University of Virginia Library

Scene Ninth.

—Fairy Palace of the Golden Eggs.
Fairies discovered at back—one Fairy in centre with three glass distaffs—The Princess Babillarda and Idelfonza, with King Gander, Minister, Councillors, Guards, Pages, and Ladies of Honour discovered.
Mother G.
(joining the hand of Belavoir and Finetta)
Here crown'd and wedded happy may you be.


145

Rich.
Well, but I say, what's to become of me?
Of crown—of queen—of vengeance all bereft.

Mother G.
Without 'em for the moral you are left.

Rich.
I! Well, I shan't be the first rogue of quality
Who at the last has taken to morality;
(to audience)
We've all been guilty of a deal of folly,
But then it was to make our young friends jolly,
And teach them, too, some lessons often told,
But not at all the worse for being old;
And first the Author owns he's made strange use,
Of these thrice golden eggs of Mother Goose:
But you'll observe he humbly hopes and begs,
Some reason in this roasting of her eggs.
As idleness of evil is the root,
So safety is, of prudence, the rich fruit;
We've not been idle, that I think you'll own—
Whether we have been prudent will be shewn
By your decision; if a kind one, we
To golden eggs shall change the distaffs three!

Finale—Air, “The Ratcatcher's Daughter.”
Fin.
At Christmas time, whate'er the rhyme,
It should convey a moral;
For giving you a piece with two,
With us you will not quarrel.
So may distress, through idleness,
Ne'er make your children smarters;
But prudence still ensure success
To your pretty little sons and daughters.
Singing, Doddle dee, &c.

Babil.
The “Yellow Dwarf” to Easter ran,
And a very long time arter;
And our Princess may do no less,
If you'll but kindly start her;
Then from east and west, come here, and just
Make these your winter quarters;
And every night, we'll strive to delight,
All your pretty little sons and daughters.
Singing, Doodle dee, &c.


146

Rich.
Wych Street's not fur from Westminster,
As you come up the Strand, O;
And here we are, at Temple Bar,
With the City close at hand, O.
There are busses vot run to Islington,
And t'other side of the water;
So we trust you'll bring, every mother's son,
With his purty little father's darter.
To sing, Doodle dee, &c.

CURTAIN.