Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems by the late Thomas Haynes Bayly; Edited by his Widow. With A Memoir of the Author. In Two Volumes |
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 | Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems |  |
5
FASHIONABLE ECLOGUES.
I. Scene—Junior United Service Club.
CAPTAIN BIGGS AND LIEUTENANT WILKINS.CAPTAIN.
Come, Charles! another glass, my boy!
I've gained my end, my point is carried;
One bumper more to wish me joy—
When next we meet I shall be married.
I knew you'd stare—but can you guess
Who is the object of my passion?
Oh! she's the pink of loveliness,
The very paragon of fashion!
I've gained my end, my point is carried;
One bumper more to wish me joy—
When next we meet I shall be married.
I knew you'd stare—but can you guess
Who is the object of my passion?
Oh! she's the pink of loveliness,
The very paragon of fashion!
Nay, do not try—you'll guess in vain—
And yet, upon consideration,
I own the case is pretty plain,
You must have noticed the flirtation.
'Tis Fanny Miles! the reigning belle!
The all-accomplished, pretty Fanny!
You must confess I've managed well
To win a prize sought by so many.
And yet, upon consideration,
I own the case is pretty plain,
You must have noticed the flirtation.
'Tis Fanny Miles! the reigning belle!
The all-accomplished, pretty Fanny!
You must confess I've managed well
To win a prize sought by so many.
LIEUTENANT.
I am surprised, I must allow,
I thought the girl was too capricious.
6
Nay, nay, she never loved till now.
LIEUTENANT.
Well, but the mother's so ambitious,
She will make up to Earls and Dukes,
And now and then is disconcerted
By chilling slights, and such rebukes
As glasses raised, or eyes averted.
CAPTAIN.
That may be over-anxious zeal,
To elevate her only daughter;
You cannot feel as mothers feel.
To elevate her only daughter;
You cannot feel as mothers feel.
LIEUTENANT.
No—but the girl—you're sure you've caught her?
You think she loves you?
CAPTAIN.
Think she loves!
How can you ask so cold a question.
Her pallid cheek her passion proves—
LIEUTENANT.
Pooh! that may all be indigestion!
CAPTAIN.
Oh! do not jest; she doats on me:
There ne'er was woman so devoted.
There ne'er was woman so devoted.
LIEUTENANT.
Since she came out—stop—let me see,—
On one—two—three—four—five she's doated.
Her dotage may pass off.
CAPTAIN.
You wrong
The kindest of all earthly creatures!
Did frailty ever yet belong
To such a set of faultless features?
The kindest of all earthly creatures!
Did frailty ever yet belong
To such a set of faultless features?
7
Don't smile, for I'll convince you yet,
A patient listener entreating;
I'll say, how, when, and where we met,
And all that happened at the meeting.
It was at Almack's; she had got
One ticket, and she begg'd another;
But Lady C. declared she'd not
For worlds admit the humdrum mother.
A patient listener entreating;
I'll say, how, when, and where we met,
And all that happened at the meeting.
It was at Almack's; she had got
One ticket, and she begg'd another;
But Lady C. declared she'd not
For worlds admit the humdrum mother.
LIEUTENANT.
And yet the daughter went?
CAPTAIN.
Oh yes!—
You know—that is—what should prevent her?
You know—that is—what should prevent her?
LIEUTENANT.
If 'gainst my parent, I confess,
A door were shut, I'd scorn to enter.
CAPTAIN.
One ticket came—how could it please
Maternal feelings not to use it?
A ticket for the Duke of D's,—
Or even Almack's—who'd refuse it?
Maternal feelings not to use it?
A ticket for the Duke of D's,—
Or even Almack's—who'd refuse it?
LIEUTENANT.
Are girls so mean! Well, well, proceed.
She went, it seems—and there you met her?
She went, it seems—and there you met her?
CAPTAIN.
We met—we waltzed—and we agreed
To meet again—could I forget her?
I called next day, and Mr. Miles,
And Mrs. Miles seem'd charm'd to know me,
Contributing with many smiles
Each kind attention they could show me.
And I was ask'd to dine and sup,
And cards for balls were never wanting.
The carriage came and took me up—
We went together, t'was enchanting!
I saw at once it was their aim
That she and I should be united,
For every morning, when I came,
To something gay I was invited.
To meet again—could I forget her?
I called next day, and Mr. Miles,
And Mrs. Miles seem'd charm'd to know me,
Contributing with many smiles
Each kind attention they could show me.
And I was ask'd to dine and sup,
And cards for balls were never wanting.
The carriage came and took me up—
We went together, t'was enchanting!
8
That she and I should be united,
For every morning, when I came,
To something gay I was invited.
In purchases, she sought my taste;
Where'er we went, 'twas I escorted;
In gallopades, I held her waist;
In morning walks, my arm supported.
I saw the time was come, in fact,
When honour bade me to disclose all,
So in the Opera's last act
Last night—I whisper'd a proposal!
Where'er we went, 'twas I escorted;
In gallopades, I held her waist;
In morning walks, my arm supported.
I saw the time was come, in fact,
When honour bade me to disclose all,
So in the Opera's last act
Last night—I whisper'd a proposal!
LIEUTENANT.
And what said Fanny?
CAPTAIN.
Oh! she sigh'd—
And raised her fan a blush to smother.
I gently breathed, “Oh! with what pride
Shall I present you to my brother.”
She started—(timid pet!) the word
Was premature—the thought a bad one.
“Brother!” she said; “I never heard—
You never mention'd that you had one.”
And raised her fan a blush to smother.
I gently breathed, “Oh! with what pride
Shall I present you to my brother.”
She started—(timid pet!) the word
Was premature—the thought a bad one.
“Brother!” she said; “I never heard—
You never mention'd that you had one.”
“My elder brother!” I exclaim'd.
She turn'd away—(sweet bashful creature!
To hear her future brother named
No doubt had crimson'd ev'ry feature.)
Then pleading earnestly I stood,
With half-averted face she heard me,
And answer'd “Sir—you're—very—good—”
But to her “dear mamma” referred me.
She turn'd away—(sweet bashful creature!
To hear her future brother named
No doubt had crimson'd ev'ry feature.)
Then pleading earnestly I stood,
With half-averted face she heard me,
And answer'd “Sir—you're—very—good—”
But to her “dear mamma” referred me.
I hurried home, and quickly wrote,
As 'twere with wand of necromancer;
To Mrs. Miles I sent the note,
And now I'm waiting for the answer.
As 'twere with wand of necromancer;
To Mrs. Miles I sent the note,
And now I'm waiting for the answer.
9
Sit down, my friend—don't fidget so—
Those men at breakfast will observe us—
Sit down, I beg of you—
Those men at breakfast will observe us—
Sit down, I beg of you—
CAPTAIN.
Oh! no,
I really can't, I am so nervous.
Ha! what is this!—a note for me!
'Tis it!—“No answer” did the man say?—
Now then my longing eyes will see
All that sincere affection can say!
(reads)
I really can't, I am so nervous.
Ha! what is this!—a note for me!
'Tis it!—“No answer” did the man say?—
Now then my longing eyes will see
All that sincere affection can say!
“Sir—your obliging note—high sense—
My daughter has—of the great honour—
Of good opinion—preference—”
There, my boy!—there—'tis plain I've won her!
(reads again)
My daughter has—of the great honour—
Of good opinion—preference—”
There, my boy!—there—'tis plain I've won her!
“But—you're a younger brother, Sir!
And I must say—you will excuse it—
You were to blame to think of her;
And your proposal—must refuse it.
“I think it best to add at once,
That in declining your acquaintance—”
I'll read no more!—Oh, idiot! dunce!
How shall I bear this cruel sentence?
And I must say—you will excuse it—
You were to blame to think of her;
And your proposal—must refuse it.
“I think it best to add at once,
That in declining your acquaintance—”
I'll read no more!—Oh, idiot! dunce!
How shall I bear this cruel sentence?
LIEUTENANT.
Be calm, my friend.
CAPTAIN.
Alas! till now,
I never knew what blighted hope meant.
I never knew what blighted hope meant.
LIEUTENANT.
Be pacified.
CAPTAIN.
Ah! tell me how
I best may manage an elopement.
I'll seek a druggist—happy plan!
And I will ask him—
I best may manage an elopement.
10
And I will ask him—
LIEUTENANT.
Pray be placid!
CAPTAIN.
For Epsom crystals; but the man
I'll bribe to give oxalic acid!
I'll bribe to give oxalic acid!
LIEUTENANT.
Nay, seek amusement—it is right.
CAPTAIN.
I'll tell my man to load my pistols.
LIEUTENANT.
Come to the opera to-night.
CAPTAIN.
I'll go and buy the fatal crystals.
LIEUTENANT.
I've got two tickets—'tis a sin
To die despairing. Come, my crony!
To die despairing. Come, my crony!
CAPTAIN.
Well—to please you—I'll just drop in
And take one peep at Taglioni.
And take one peep at Taglioni.
II. Scene—The Governor's Study.
SQUIRE LONG AND LONG JUNIOR.SQUIRE LONG.
George, why don't you marry?—at your time of life
'Tis a man's bounden duty to look for a wife.
11
Your will is my law, Sir; but what can I do?
The ladies I fix upon never please you!
SQUIRE LONG.
No, George, but your father your interest watches.
I've pointed out three or four excellent matches.
LONG, JUNr.
Your will is my law, Sir; but then, do you see,
The ladies you fix upon never please me.
SQUIRE LONG.
Why zounds! George, you don't go the right way to work,
Make up to the Fox-hunting Heiress from York.
LONG, JUNr.
The steeple chase lady!—If after that spec
There's less danger of breaking my heart than my neck;
A brilliant her eye, but a ruby her nose is,
Horse laughter her smile, and her bloom cabbage roses!
SQUIRE LONG.
Oh! George, you provoke me; but say, have you seen
The rich and rare private theatrical Queen?
Who gets up the plays down at Splashington Hall,
First Manager—Dramatist—Actress—and all!
LONG, JUNr.
No! not the Blue Lady who rules the Green-room,
Artificial in attitude, simper, and bloom;
Who looks up so loving in Romeo's face,
Returning with gusto each sigh and embrace.
To make a proscenium she'd split my saloon,
And darken it all for rehearsals at noon.
'Twould ruffle me, Sir—why, 'twould ruffle a saint
To live amid canvass, gilt paper and paint.
12
What think you then, George, of the Baronet's widow,
The lady of arable, pasture, and meadow?
LONG, JUNr.
Sir Acre's relict? No, no, my good Sir,
For ruin lurks under rich widows like her.
The crops that she cuts, and the beasts that she kills
Are all melted down in her milliner's bills!
Don't talk of her produce—its merit must stop,
If I cannot prevent her from wearing a crop!
Her hey-day is endless; she'll add to my trouble,
And into straw bonnets she'd turn all my stubble!
SQUIRE LONG.
Miss Blonda, the beauty—what think you of her
The beauty, par excellence—can you demur?
LONG, JUNr.
The belle of the public? Ah! no, Sir, I seek
For one with the first bloom of youth on her cheek;
The belle of my own individual choice,
Not hawk'd about yearly by Fashion's shrill voice:
Exhibited here, and exhibited there,
Until, so long used to vulgarity's stare,
So petted by connoisseur, sculptor and painter,
My home-admiration could never content her!
If I praised her, she'd say, “Oh! I've heard that before;
Indeed, my Lord So and So used to say more!”
SQUIRE LONG.
Well, George, you shan't marry a beauty; you shan't;
There's plain Miss Golightly, who wants a gallant.
Besides, she writes novels—
LONG, JUNr.
Ay, when I'm in haste
To make love to a gorgon, she'll be to my taste.
But worse—oh! a thousand times worse than her looks,
Is the thought of her putting me into her books!
13
Some foible of mine, just to fill up a sketch!
How very convenient, when other themes flag
To have me, just like a wild fox in a bag,
And then hunt me out, giving all but my name,
While those who peruse the three volumes exclaim:
“Oh! dear me, how like him; how very absurd!
That's meant for her husband, I give you my word!
How wrong of her, though—the resemblance must strike!
How very improper! Good gracious, how like!”
SQUIRE LONG.
Well, George, there's Miss Wilkins; the lady they laud
For graces acquired whilst living abroad.
Her singing; her playing!
LONG, JUNr.
Why no, I confess
She's too foreign in manner—too foreign in dress;
In all that she utters and does, I detect
A something that tells me she aims at effect,
And copying Frenchified airs; after all
She wears the French fashions that suit a French doll;
Her singing is squall, and her laughter is giggle!
Her figure all bustle, her dancing all wriggle!
SQUIRE LONG.
But, zounds, you must marry! At your time of life
'Tis a man's bounden duty to look for a wife.
LONG, JUNr.
Your will is my law, Sir—but what can I do?
The ladies I fix upon never please you.
SQUIRE LONG.
No, George; but your father your interest watches:
I've pointed out several excellent matches!
LONG, JUNr.
Your will is my law, Sir, but then do you see,
The ladies you fix upon never please me!
14
III. Scene—Mrs. Long's Boudoir.
MRS. AND MISS LONG.MRS. LONG.
My darling daughter, come to me;
Why is your cheek so pale?
To fond maternal ears reveal
Your first-love's faltering tale.
You love young Lord Fitzlackstiver—
(Incomparable youth!
What fascinating eyes he has!)—
You love him?—speak the truth.
MISS LONG.
No—no—I do not love him—no—
That word is far too tame;
A faintness comes all over me
When others breathe his name.
I doat upon him! oh, Mamma,
Don't tell me I am wrong;
You know he comes here every day,
And stays here all day long.
MRS. LONG.
He does, my pet, I know he does,
(Most excellent young man!)
But, dearest, long ere you came out
His daily calls began.
MISS LONG.
What mean you, Madam!
MRS. LONG.
Miss, I mean
His Lordship is my friend—
My Cicisbeo—my— in short,
Your fancies, child, must end.
15
Madam! Mamma! what can you mean?
He's not in love with you?
I'll go and speak to my Papa—
MRS. LONG.
Do—if you dare, love, do!
Your father's age, and gout, and bile,
And half a hundred ills
Keep him at home; I cannot stay
To make him take his pills.
And then in public, you must know,
A man is indispensable.
(Now listen, child, and dry your eyes—
I always thought you sensible!)
As for a ball—your father's far
More fit for hearse and hatchment;
And who can blame Platonic love
And innocent attachment?
MISS LONG.
My heart will break! oh, 'tis enough
To plunge me in despair,
To give up such a nobleman!
With such a head of hair!
Besides, now don't be angry, Ma—
When Pa to bed is carried,
You've never time to talk to me—
I should like to be married!
MRS. LONG.
Like to be married! so you shall;
Yes, darling, to be sure—
But not to Lord Fitzlackstiver,
The amiable—but poor!
Your husband shall have golden coin
As countless as sea-sand;
Yes, child, the Duke Filchesterton
Has offer'd you his hand!
16
What do you say?—The Duke!—His Grace!
A Duchess!—can it be!
(He's sixty-five) how very odd
That he should fix on me!
The Duke!—(he can't have long to live)
His Grace! when will he call?
How lucky Lord Fitzlackstiver
Meant nothing after all!
The Duke!—he's very, very old;
But what's that to his wife!
You do not care three straws about
My father's time of life.
His Grace!—what gorgeous wedding clothes!
What jewels I shall get!
The diamonds of the family,
(I'll have them all new set.)
The Duke!—he can't live very long,
His husky cough is chronic,
And doubtless I shall find a friend
Exceedingly platonic.
You'll tell the Duke I'm flatter'd—pleased:—
Oh! stop, Mamma—you'll see,
Of course, that all his worldly goods
Are settled upon me.
A Duchess!—only think, Mamma,
I shall be call'd your Grace!
What had I best be married in,
White satin or blond lace?
Bless me! how very strange 'twill seem
To have a spouse on crutches!
I long to tell Fitzlackstiver
That I'm to be a Duchess.
Poor Fitz! It's well I'm not his wife;
It would have made me ill,
To go and make a fuss about
Some odious butcher's bill.
It never would have suited me
To hash the boil'd and roast!
And ascertain what eggs, and beer,
And soap, and candles cost!
17
Oh, apropos of marriage!
I must consult him when he calls,
About my travelling carriage.
The gout, they say, is apt to kill
When vital parts it touches;
Make haste, Mamma, and tell the Duke,
That I will be his Duchess!
IV. Scene—Hogsnorton House.
MR. MRS. AND MISS HUM.MISS HUM.
Oh, winter in Brighton, in Regency Square,
Oh, winter in Brighton, the Court will be there!
'Tis not for myself that I ask it—oh! no,
'Tis for dear papa's health that I'm anxious to go.
MRS. HUM.
My dear, she is right, you should really arrange
Some party of pleasure; you do want a change;
For you just at present this place is too dull,
Do winter at Brighton, for Brighton is full.
MR. HUM.
Oh, don't think of moving for my sake, my dear,
You're really too anxious—I'm very well here.
MISS HUM.
Well! oh, my dear father! excuse me, you're wrong
To sport with my feelings—go look at your tongue.
18
Well! oh, my dear husband, you cannot disguise
That terrible yellowness under your eyes!
MR. HUM.
Begone, ye two birds of ill omen! I see
Through this sensitive, anxious, attention to me.
If I am so delicate, why should I hear
The noise that the sea makes at this time of year?
You, Miss, and you, Madam, are trying by stealth
To coax me to Brighton, by talking of health.
I know what you want, Miss! and you, Madam, too—
You want a gay season—yes, both of you do!
MISS HUM.
Papa, you're unkind; but I scorn to complain,
In Hogsnorton House I'm content to remain.
I did think the moving might do you some good;
No matter—my motives are misunderstood;
But even suppose that I did want a change,
From stupid Hogsnorton, I'm sure it's not strange;
You don't want to see me establish'd in life!
Who'd come to Hogsnorton to look for a wife?
MRS. HUM.
Don't talk to your father—sweet girl, it's no use,
He deems my solicitude all an excuse!
I've nursed him, and watch'd him, and now he imputes—
No matter—I'm silent, but all men are brutes!
He deems me deceitful; you heard what he said—
He'll be sorry enough perhaps when I'm dead!
MR. HUM.
Maria, don't cry! Leonora, for shame!—
Ask any soul breathing if I am to blame!
At Hogsnorton House there's my leather arm-chair,
So cosey and snug—(only look at it there!)
And then there's my cellar, my genuine wine,
Without my old sherry I really can't dine.
19
My purse for a gingerbread mansion at Brighton?
Where, sleepless, you hear the perpetual din
Of the tide going out, or the tide coming in.
MRS. HUM.
Nay, dearest, don't say so; the lodging shan't be
In one of the terraces facing the sea;
You'll sleep undisturb'd, love, in Regency Square;
And how could you think I'd forget the arm-chair?
I plann'd that all nicely, my dear; if we went,
It was by the van to be carefully sent.
And then too the wine, love, (how odd you and I
Should think of the very same things, by the by!)
Your genuine sherry I meant to have placed
In hampers. You see, dear, I study your taste!
MISS HUM.
And, dearest papa, you and I will walk out,
(You'll lean on my arm, and a fig for the gout;)
You'll go to the library every day,
And read all the papers in such a snug way.
And don't you remember the shop on the Steyne?
The pastrycook's shop kept by Phillips! I mean,
The shop where you used to eat soup?
MR. HUM.
Very true,
I almost can fancy I smell it—can't you?
MRS. HUM.
Yes, love, so delicious! And then, too, the chat
And the whist at Sir Robert's—you don't forget that?
MR. HUM.
The whist? oh, that was very pleasant!
MRS. HUM.
Yes, very!—
Shall Simpson have orders to pack up the sherry?
20
Egad!—but you're certain Sir Robert is there?
MISS HUM.
Oh, positive! When shall we pack the arm-chair?
MR. HUM.
I went there last year by the doctor's advice.
That mulligatawny is certainly nice.
The sherry may travel, 'tis true—and the chair—
But Simpson must pack it with very great care.
I think it may do me some good—so I'll write
To Parsons to take me a lodging to-night.
(Exit Mr. Hum.)
MRS. HUM.
There! did I not manage him well? I declare,
Whilst I live, I shall doat on that darling arm-chair;
A lucky idea, was it not?—and the wine?
MISS HUM.
Yes, mamma; and the soup was a good hit of mine.
MRS. HUM.
And the whist at Sir Robert's! The whist and the chat!
MISS HUM.
Sir Robert's in France, mamma—
MRS. HUM.
Never mind that!
We'll vow we expected to meet him, and then
We'll soon find out two or three humdrum old men.
MISS HUM.
And now, dear mamma, you're aware that I want
A bonnet and gown.
MRS. HUM.
No, Maria, you can't—
21
You've worn that so little I gave you last year;
Your gowns too must serve for the present.
MISS HUM.
Ah! no—
You cannot help sending to Carson.
MRS. HUM.
Why so?
MISS HUM.
Oh, really, mamma, though you do not want dress
To set off your figure and face, I confess,
Yet still I did see such a hat and pelisse!
They'd suit you exactly, I never shall cease
To wish that you had them! Cerulean blue!
Send for them to please your Maria, pray do.
MRS. HUM.
My amiable daughter! I cannot refuse
To send up to Carson. What gown will you choose?
I'll order the blue for myself; and I think
Your bonnet, my darling, had better be pink.
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