I little thought you'd still be able "Hold!" says the farmer, "not so fast! I have been lame these four years past." "And no great wonder," Death replies; 66 However, you still keep your eyes; And, sure to see one's loves and friends, "Perhaps," says Dodson, "so it might, I warrant you hear all the news." 66 'There's none," cries he; "and if there were, I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear." "Nay, then," the spectre stern rejoined, "These are unjustifiable yearnings; If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, You've had your three sufficient warnings; So come along; no more we'll part," He said, and touched him with his dart. And now old Dodson, turning pale, W. B. Rhodes Bombastes Furioso CHARACTERS ARTAXOMINOUS, King of Uto- ARMY: A long Drummer, a pia. FUSBOS, Minister of State. GENERAL BOMBASTES. ATTENDANTS. short Fifer, and two (some times three) Soldiers of different dimensions. DISTAFFINA. SCENE I. Interior of the Palace. The KING in his chair of state. A table set out with punchbowl, glasses, pipes, etc. ATTENDANTS on each side. TRIO-" Tekeli." 1st Atten. What will your Majesty please to wear? Or blue, green, red, black, white, or brown. 2d Atten. D'ye choose to look at the bill of fare? King. (Showing long bill.) Get out of my sight, or I'll knock you down. Here is soup, fish, or goose, or duck, or fowl, or pigeons, pig, or hare! 1st Atten. Or blue, or green, or red, or black, or white, or brown. What will your Majesty, etc. King. Get out of my sight, etc. (Exeunt ATTENDANTS.) Enter FUSBOS, and kneels to the KING. Fusbos. Hail, Artaxominous, yclep'd the Great! King. Rise, learned Fusbos-rise, my friend, and know We are but middling-that is, so, so! Fusbos. Only so, so! Oh, monstrous, doleful thing! Is it the mulligrubs affects the king? Or, dropping poisons in the cup of joy, King. Nor mulligrubs nor devils blue are here, Fusbos. Yes, I perceive it in that vacant eye, And sit and mope beside the kitchen fire. King. Last night, when undisturb'd by state affairs, Moist'ning our clay, and puffing off our cares, Oft the replenish'd goblet did we drain, And drank and smok'd, and smok'd and drank again! Until at length we got a drop too much. Fusbos. So when some donkey on the Blackheath Road, Falls, overpower'd, beneath his sandy load; The driver's curse unheeded swells the air, Since none can carry more than they can bear. King. The sapient Doctor Muggins came in haste, Who suits his physic to his patient's taste; He, knowing well on what our heart is set, Hath just prescrib'd, "To take a morning whet "; The very sight each sick'ning pain subdues. Fusbos (sits). Gen'ral Bombastes, whose resistless force Alone exceeds by far a brewer's horse, Returns victorious, bringing mines of wealth! King. Does he, by Jingo? Then we'll drink his health! (Drum and fife.) Fusbos. But hark! With loud acclaim, the fife and drum Announce your army near; behold, they come ! Enter BOMBASTES, attended by one DRUMMER, one FIFER, and two SOLDIERS, all very materially differing in size. They march round the stage and back. Bombas. Meet me this ev'ning at the Barley Mow; I'll bring your pay-you see I'm busy now. Begone, brave army, and don't kick up a row. (Exeunt SOLDIERS.) (To the KING.) Thrash'd are your foes. This watch and silken string, Worn by their chief, I as a trophy bring; I knock'd him down, then snatch'd it from his fob. (BOMBASTES kneels; the KING dubs him with a pipe, and From our own bowl here drink, my soldier true; And if you'd like to take a whiff or two, He whose brave arm hath made our foes to crouch, Bombas (arises). Honours so great have all my toils repaid, My liege, and Fusbos, here's "Success to trade." Fusbos. Well said, Bombastes! Since thy mighty blows Have given a quietus to our foes, Now shall our farmers gather in their crops, And busy tradesmen mind their crowded shops. Now shall we smoke the calumet of peace. King. I shall smoke short-cut; you smoke what you please. Bombas. Whate'er your Majesty shall deign to name, Short cut or long to me is all the same. Bombas and Fusbos. In short, so long as we your favours claim, Short cut or long, to us is all the same. King. Thanks, gen'rous friends! Now list whilst I impart How firm you're lock'd and bolted in my heart; So long as this here pouch a pipe contains, Or a full glass in that there bowl remains, To you an equal portion shall belong; This do I swear. And now let's have a song. Bombas. (Advances and attempts to sing.) You know you haven't got a singing face; SONG "Hope Told a Flattering Tale." Hope told a flattering tale, Much longer than my arm, That love and pots of ale In peace would keep me warm. |