 | The Bee and the Orange Tree ; or, The Four Wishes |  |
Scene Third.
—Gorge near the Ogre's Cave.Enter Ravagio.
Air—Ravagio—“I am a Friar of Orders Grey.”
I am an Ogre I beg to say,
And gobble up any one in my way.
I pluck not blackberry, hip or haw,
With fat little babbies I fill my craw;
On young folks though I prefer to sup,
I don't object to them when grown up;
And why I'm so plump the reason I'll tell,
Who lives on his neighbours is sure to live well.
What sharper, or swindler, or usuring Jew,
But lives much the same as the Ogres do.
As the O—O—O, &c.
And gobble up any one in my way.
I pluck not blackberry, hip or haw,
With fat little babbies I fill my craw;
On young folks though I prefer to sup,
I don't object to them when grown up;
And why I'm so plump the reason I'll tell,
Who lives on his neighbours is sure to live well.
What sharper, or swindler, or usuring Jew,
But lives much the same as the Ogres do.
As the O—O—O, &c.
He who plunders the orphan child,
Mightn't he just as well eat him broiled?
He who robs his neighbour of bread,
Had better have swallowed him whole instead.
The sempstress wasted by slow decay,
Has her bones but picked in another way;
To the weary weaver with sleep o'ercome,
The factory bell sounds like “Fee Fo Fum.”
How many who swagger this wide world through
Might just as well be called Ogres too!
Be called O—O—O, &c.
Mightn't he just as well eat him broiled?
He who robs his neighbour of bread,
Had better have swallowed him whole instead.
The sempstress wasted by slow decay,
Has her bones but picked in another way;
To the weary weaver with sleep o'ercome,
The factory bell sounds like “Fee Fo Fum.”
How many who swagger this wide world through
Might just as well be called Ogres too!
Be called O—O—O, &c.
58
Yes, I maintain, Ogres are less to blame
Than many persons I decline to name.
To eat up man and wife is far less cruel
Than let 'em starve apart on water gruel!
And better swallow infants, fast as pills,
Then grind their bones to dust in cotton mills.
And when we think of surplus population,
An Ogre's quite a blessing to a nation!
Talking of wives and children—where's my wife
And hopeful son?—a fine boy, 'pon my life,
And soon shall have a wife himself—what ho!
Dame Tourmentine!
Enter Tourmentine.
Tour.
I come, Ravagio!
Rav.
Where's Croquemitain? still lingering on the heights?
Enter Croquemitain, carrying a quantity of surveying instruments, books, &c.
Cro.
No, pa, here—laden with theodolites,
Rods, chains, books, maps, and plans for deposition!
Rav.
The owners were in capital condition!
I haven't made so good a meal for years.
We've eaten—let me see—four engineers,
And ten surveyors—not to mention clerks.
We shall get fat upon these railroad sparks.
Why, since the panic broke out in the City,
We've ate a whole provisional committee!
Tour.
The chairman was particularly tough,
And yet I'm sure I roasted him enough.
Rav.
My dear, he was a very old offender,
And there's no roasting makes those fellows tender.
Come, let's to sleep—we want no more to-night,
It's best to leave off with an appetite.
Trio—Ravagio, Tourmentine, and Croquemitain—“Say what shall be our sport to-day?”—“Moore's National Melodies.”
With what has been our food to-day,
There's nothing on earth can sure compare;
So light, so white—so recherché—
For Ogres the very fare!
There's nothing on earth can sure compare;
So light, so white—so recherché—
For Ogres the very fare!
59
But though I have filled my crop,
And am anything but sharp-set,
On a nice tit-bit if I could pop,
I've a corner for that left yet.
(Exeunt)
And am anything but sharp-set,
On a nice tit-bit if I could pop,
I've a corner for that left yet.
| The Bee and the Orange Tree ; or, The Four Wishes | |