The noble pedlar: a burletta. As performed at Marybone-Gardens. Set to music by Mr. Barthelemon.
HIS MOST OBLIGED, AND HUMBLE SERVANT, THE AUTHOR.
- FLORIMORE, a young Nobleman, diſguiſed as a Pedlar, and in love with ARABELLA.
- Mr. REINHOLD.
- BARBARINO, Lord FLORIMORE's Servant, a great Braggart, who addreſſes ARABELLA in his Maſter's Clothes.
- Mr. BANNISTER.
THE NOBLE PEDLAR.
(Arabella diſcovered dreſſing a flower-pot.)
DEAR lovely roſe, that in the morn,
When firſt I pluck'd thee from the thorn,
With matchleſs bluſhes dy'd.
Why ſhould thy charming beauties fade,
Which in the morning thou diſplay'd,
In all thy infant pride?
Where are thy vary'd colours fled?
Thy ſcent is gone, thy leaves are dead;
Alas! I've loſt my roſe!
Where are thy heav'nly beauties laid,
When winter kills each verdant blade,
With cold and chilling ſnows?
Sweet roſe adieu! thy emblem is too plain,
Thy youth gave pleaſure, but thy death gives pain;
Ye dear remaining few, I yet will ſtrive
To keep your crimſon-tinted dyes alive;—
Before the thirſty ſun your buds ſhall kill,
My water-vaſe a thouſand times I'll fill;
For your ſweet ſakes a thouſand turns I'll bring,
And rob each cryſtal brook, and cooling ſpring.
[Ex. with a watering-vaſe.
Bewitching maid, thou haſt enſnar'd my heart,
And I muſt 'gin to play the lover's part:
I'll try by ſome device her heart to ſteal;
But then the curſe of being laugh'd to ſcorn,
When I have fix'd on one ſo lowly born.
A plague on degree, for I find I'm in love,
And I will indulge the dear flame;
What fool of degree would that paſſion remove,
For the ſake of a paltry name.
E'en Jove on his fair-mortal maidens hath ſmil'd,
And gaz'd with an amorous eye,
'Till his Godſhip at laſt found his heart was beguil'd—
Then plague on it, why ſhou'd not I?
What's pomp or degree, without freedom of mind?
They ſerve but our bliſs to annoy,
Then I'll even venture, ſhou'd I but once find
Young Cupid a generous boy.
But let me pauſe—methinks it wou'd be wiſe,
To try my little charmer in diſguiſe.
A Pedlar I'll aſſume, with trinkets rare,
And that way try the paſſion of my fair.
Plague on that old mamma of mine, I ſay;
I've ſometimes half a mind to run away,
Where'er I want to go, whate'er to ſee,
She's ſure to knit her brows, and hinder me.
Who wou'd, like me, this priſon'd life endure,
And live for ever in a ſtate obſcure.
From morn to night alone I ſit,
For liberty I ſigh and fret,
Like Robin in his cage;
Mamma ſhe kills me with her care,
She tells me I am young and fair,
At a bewitching age—
Why look'ſt thou grave, my girl? I've news to tell,
Will make thee ſmile;—I know 'twill pleaſe thee well;
Thou haſt a pris'ner ta'en—
A pris'ner! How?
Oh, heed not that, he is thy pris'ner now;
He ſighs, proteſts, and ſwears that he'll be kind,
There ne'er was man ſo ſuited to thy mind;
Yet ere he takes the bliſs, for which he ſues,
He muſt be bound in Hymen's ſilken nooſe.
Alas, I've been myſelf confin'd too long,
To wiſh another half ſo great a wrong.
Fooliſh wench, thou ſoon ſhalt find,
I've got a plaything to thy mind;
Leave thy pouting,
And thy glouting,
Throw thy fooliſh fears away.
If thou too long haſt been confin'd,
I'll ſoon releaſe, and ſoon will bind;
I come to teaze thee,
And to pleaſe thee.
And to fix thy wedding-day.
My wedding-day! alas, with whom and when?
With one, the braveſt of all gentlemen;
So tall he is, ſo gallant and ſo gay,
He'd ſteal the heart of any ſaint away.
How can my boſom to a ſtranger yield?
How can he love the maid he ne'er beheld?
Behold he comes himſelf to tell his tale,
And if he talks of love to me, he'll fail:
If that's the man, he'll ne'er my paſſion move;
He is already with himſelf in love:
See how he views his perſon in the glaſs;
Indeed, mamma, I think your man's an aſs.
O yes, by Jove! aye, there ſhe is, I ſee
The little huzzy is in love with me.
What ſhall I ſay, tho', now we're brought together?
We'll 'gin at firſt to talk about the weather;
Good-morrow, Miſs, it is a charming day.
Ah, very, very true, Sir, as you ſay;
Pray tell me, Sir, how came it firſt about,
That you ſhould find the mighty ſecret out?
Pray tell me, pretty little ſmiling dove,
Will you not liſten to a man in love,
To one that loves you dearly.—
Then wou'd you wiſh to ſee your lover die?
With all my heart, Sir, die what way you chooſe,
Or hang yourſelf—I'll not untie the nooſe.
Impertinent and hateful—
There ne'er was ſure a baggage ſo ungrateful;
You'll raiſe my blood, you'll put me in a paſſion—
To ſee how you can uſe a man of faſhion.
I much do wonder, Madam, as you ſay.
But I will make the ſaucy jade obey.
And ſo wou'd I indeed, were I but you,
I'd make her anſwer as ſhe ought to do.
I ne'er was us'd ſo ſtrangely in my life;
I wou'd not bear this uſage from a wife.
'Tis mighty fine,
Were ſhe but mine,
I'd make her love
Whom I approve,
Or elſe ſhe ſoon ſhould find,
If ſhe deny'd
Thro' prudiſh pride,
Shou'd ſhe refuſe
Whom I ſhou'd chuſe,
She ne'er ſhou'd ſee mankind.
Ungrateful minx; how dare you uſe me thus?
Dear heart, mamma! you make a mighty fuſs.
As you did, ſaucy gipſy, ev'ry day;
Have you not teaz'd me for a huſband, pray?
Have you not told me, you wou'd fain be free,
And wiſh'd to marry for your liberty.
What muſt I do?
Why, can't you underſtand,
Conſent to give this gentleman your hand;
Ah, you're a fooliſh aggravating jade,
Give him your hand, and then your fortune's made. [Aſide to Arabella.
Enter FLORIMORE as a Pedlar.
God bleſs ye all, my worthy gentry,
I'm come to ſell, if you will pleaſe to buy.—
I've buttons, ſtuds, and egrets for the hair,
And many things beſide, all choice and rare.
Pray, ſaucy fellow, take yourſelf away.
No, no, good maſter, prithee, prithee ſtay.
I'll tell you what, my friend, 'tween you and I,
I'd have you go to thoſe who mean to buy,
You'd better take my counſel, for I fear,
You'll meet with very little cuſtom here.
Whether my Lady buys, or ſhou'd ſhe not,
She's welcome, ma'am, to look at what I've got.
[Arabella takes the box and over looks it.
I've earings of the beſt,
All made of poliſh'd paſte;
I've boxes fine as gold,
No better e'er were ſold.
Etwees all curious wrought,
No better e'er were bought;
All cheap, as cheap can be,
Pray, Lady, buy of me.
I tell you, man, we've ſomething elſe to do,
Than talk all day about your toys and you.
Dear Arabella, your conſent, I pray.
You have it, Sir,—to take yourſelf away.
Then you're reſolved for ever to refuſe.
Pray, good mamma, what earings ſhall I chuſe.
A fig o'th' earings, pray ma'am give your anſwer.
I'll love, indeed, as ſoon as e'er I can, Sir.
But to ſpeak plainly firſt, 'tween you and me,
I fear that time will never, never be.
O, well reply'd; by heaven, ſhe has wit,
And what's more rare, ſhe well can manage it. [Aſide.
Then ſince you're ſo perverſe, the devil take me,
Thou ſhalt conſent to marry, or I'll make thee.
I wou'd in all reſpects my duty fill,
But ne'er will marry one againſt my will.
'Tis in vain, Sir, to purſue me,
Marriage this way will undo me;
I'd rather live confin'd.
I'd rather be confin'd for life,
Than this way yield to be a wife,
To break my peace of mind.
Such treatment is not to be borne,
For my love, ſhe returns me her ſcorn.
A jade, I cou'd, tear out her eyes,
To ſee her effect to deſpiſe,
A perſon of your high degree.
'Tis excellent paſtime to me.
I'll never, no never comply.
I'd ſooner feed hogs in a ſtye.
You huzzy, you ſhall,
But I wont.
You ſhall feed the hogs if you don't.
Odds heart, what a pother is here.
'Tis a pother which I like to hear. [Aſide.
I'll take to my heels firſt and run.
Get home, and be lock'd up for life,
I'd rather be ſo than his wife;
So I'll take your good counſel, and go.
SOPHORINA.END OF THE FIRST PART.
Was ever a mother us'd ſo?
GENTLE Pedlar, I could love thee,
Were I not ſo much above thee;
So kind he gives, and ſpeaks ſo mild,
He has my heart almoſt beguil'd.
His cheeks are of the roſe's dye,
Like pearl his teeth, like jet his eye;
O, gentle Pedlar, 'tis a ſhame
Thou art not worth a better name.
Enter SOPHORINA and BARBARINO, the latter yet unſeen by ARABELLA.
Well, Arabella, do you perſevere?
Will you ne'er lend a charitable ear?
Your gentle lover, I'm afraid will die.
But not of love, good mother; no, not I. [Aſide.
I wiſh, mamma, you'd ſay no more about him,
I ſhall be better off indeed, without him;
If he's in love, I pity him I'm ſure,
Tho' pity ſeldom will a lover cure;
But yet, mamma, indeed, 'tween you and I,
I've got another lover in my eye.
BARBARINO [ruſhing forward.]
Another lover? this is worſe and worſe!
Oh! I cou'd burſt with ſtorm, cou'd ſwear, cou'd curſe;
My jealouſy, with fury, now encreaſes,
I'll tear this new-found lover all to pieces.
Oh, mercy on us! what a dreadful creature!
If he'd a wife, he certainly would eat her.
But were you once my new-found ſpark to ſee,
You wou'd adore the rogue as well as me.
Was ever mortal man ſo treated?
What! in my love to be defeated?
Oh! let me but lay hold of him,
I'll tear the traitor limb from limb;
I'd rather met with death, I ſwear,
Than once the name of rival hear.
Yes; I'd adore him, you ſhou'd find;
I'd ſtrew his limbs before the wind.
Then here behold the dear bewitching thing,
Behold your rival in this ſparkling ring.
And am I then at laſt ſo much deſpis'd,
As by a gaudy ring to be outpris'd.
A ring! for heaven's ſake, how came you by it?
I had it given me ma'am, I don't deny it.
By whom, by whom; pray tell me, Miſs, and when?
By one, the humbleſt of all humble men;
And lo, he comes, in hopes you'll ſomething buy,
Some necklace, earing, or ſome rarity.
Pray tell me, worthy friend, how is't you live?
Is it by what you ſell, or what you give?
To thoſe, in whom civility I meet,
It is my fancy oftentimes to treat;
To thoſe I do not love perhaps ſo well,
To ſuch I neither care to give or ſell.
This fellow's ſome impoſture, you will find,
The country ſwarms with numbers of his kind.
He only gives away to take you in.
Return the ring, and let the villain go,
Nay, he may be a thief, for ought you know.
Dear Lady, judge not hardly of me, pray.
Then take yourſelf and trumpery away.
O, 'tis cruel thus to judge me.
And without the leaſt offence,
You'll ſurely not the time begrudge me,
While I prove my innocence.
I came to ſteal, indeed, 'tis true,
A jewel which belongs to you,
For which I'd give my heart.
Then, lovely maiden, interfere,
And ſtand a poor man's friend;
Thou art the jewel I revere,
I ſeek no other end.
But I'm, I fear, by much too rude,
A poor man never ſhou'd intrude;
Take this, and I'll depart. [gives her a diamond necklace.
Preſumptious fellow! know you were you've got?
Pray, good gentleman, be not ſo hot.
How dare ſuch knaves as you to talk of love?
Becauſe 'twas taught me by the gods above.
You talk too free, methinks, 'tween you and I.
I thought your queſtion wanted a reply. [Barbarino whiſpers Sophorina.
Am I deceiv'd, or is it truly ſo? [Looking at Barbarino.
My vaſſal, as I live, my Barbarino!
To try my fair one, and to know my man. [Aſide.
I fear 'tis very true, Sir, what you ſay, [To Barbarino.
We'd better ſend the ſaucy knave away.
Pray tell me, fellow, where you got thoſe things,
Thoſe golden boxes, diamonds and rings.
I bought 'em.
Stole 'em, if you pleaſe;
Come, Sir, confeſs, and down upon your knees.
Excuſe me, Sir, I've always made a rule,
Never to make confeſſion to a fool.
Death and veng'ance! ſhall I bear all this?
If you'll return the knave his necklace, Miſs,
You ſoon ſhall ſee how I will treat the ſlave,
I'll ſlay the thief, and make yon ditch his grave.
For what, pray Sir, what has the poor man done?
What, do you take his part? then we're undone.
Indeed, mamma, I do, indeed I will,
For I believe the Pedlar honeſt ſtill;
His looks, the name of villain muſt reprove,
For they are all humility and love.
Immortal Cupid! this is mighty fine!
She cannot be a daughter ſure of mine;
A Pedlar-man! is that your taſte you jade?
Pedlar indeed, oh me! I ſhall go mad.
My tender, lovely maid, farewel! adieu!
I'll go myſelf, but leave my heart with you.
But ere I go this di'mond locket take,
And wear it, dear one, for a Pedlar's ſake. [To Arabella.
Stay, ſtay, my gentle Pedlar, prithee ſtay,
For I cou'd liſten to thee all the day;
What Pedlar ever talk'd in ſuch a ſtrain?
Come back, dear friend, and talk to me again.
'Tis not the jewel which ſo much I prize,
It is the language of thy tongue and eyes.
Fire and brimſtone! I'll no more behold;
Away, get hence, you ſaucy beggar bold;
I'll put an end, you villain, to your rout,
Good ma'am aſſiſt me, and we'll hand him out.
Aye, that I will, good Sir, with all my heart.
Wou'd I a giant were to take his part.
[Barbarino and Sophorina, in ſtruggling with Florimore, they throw off his cloak, and pull off his falſe hair, and diſcover a ſtar upon his breaſt.
Ye Gods! my Lord! my rival and my maſter!
Did ever mortal meet with ſuch diſaſter?
Now, what the Devil ſhall I do or ſay?
The beſt way'll be, I think, to run away. [Aſide.
Pray, gentlefolks, why are ye both ſo grave?
I thought you wou'd have made yon ditch my grave;
Perhaps you've chang'd your minds.
[Page 19] SOPHORINA.
Oh! lack a day,
We're both confounded—and have nought to ſay.
[Florimore makes affectionate ſigns to Arabella.
O pardon what is paſt, my Lord,
I'll never, no, upon my word,
I'll ne'er do ſo again.
O let this ſhameful ſcene paſs by,
And for the future I will try
To wipe away the ſtain.
O mercy, how I quake and tremble,
How cou'd your Lordſhip ſo diſſemble,
And feign your part ſo well?
I hope your Lordſhip will forgive me,
It was your pleaſure to deceive me,
Your own love tale to tell.
Tis all forgot; but for the ſake of me,
Uſe other Pedlars with more charity.
I truſt you'll never more yourſelf expoſe,
Nor act the lover in your maſter's clothes. [To Barbarino.
I wiſh him hang'd, my Lord, if you'll believe me,
Becauſe the villain ſtrove ſo to deceive me.
Then ſince you ſeem ſo truly to repent,
To make amends, now give me your conſent,
To wear this lovely charmer by my ſide,
I wiſh to make the matchleſs maid my bride.
Your bride! my Lord? I'm all ſurpriſe and wonder;
You've my conſent;—but make her knuckle under
Dear Arabella, who e'er thought to ſee
Thee ſtand ſo fair a chance for quality.
[Page 20] FLORIMORE.
And now fair maid, it does on you depend,
To give this comic ſcene a happy end. [To Arabella.
Give your inſtructions, I will nought deny,
That may befit a maiden's modeſty.
'Tis fairly ſpoke; now yield me that fair hand.
You have it, gentle Lord, upon demand;
Were't but my hand, the gift were mean and poor,
Had you not archly ſtole my heart before.
Celeſtial maid! thou'ſt huſh'd each doubt and fear;
Was ever maid ſo lovely and ſincere?
In thy dear arms, I'll ſeek eternal reſt,
And lull my cares, to ſleep upon thy breaſt.
Let ſmiling Cupids weave a crown,
Young Hymen's brows to bind;
Then make this matchleſs maid my own,
The faireſt of her kind.
Her hateful head, let Envy hide,
Whilſt I my joys confeſs;
There never ſure was yet a bride
Felt equal happineſs.
Ye mighty Gods, I aſk no more,
I've got the maid / man that I adore,
Let happineſs on both attend,
And may your joys ne'er know an end.
Come let us all then join the lay,
To celebrate the wedding-day.
Come let us all then join the lay,
To celebrate the wedding day.