The Bab Ballads [3]
to strike
With gay, grotesque, outrageous dresses,
And dances comically, like
CLODOCHE AND Co., at the Princess's.
But FREDDY tries another style,
He knows some graceful steps and does 'em -
A breathing Poem - Woman's smile -
A man all poesy and buzzem.
Now FREDDY'S operatic PAS -
Now JOHNNY'S hornpipe seems entrapping:
Now FREDDY'S graceful ENTRECHATS -
Now JOHNNY'S skilful "cellar-flapping."
For many hours - for many days -
For many weeks performed each brother,
For each was active in his ways,
And neither would give in to t'other.
After a month of this, they say
(The maid was getting bored and moody)
A wandering curate passed that way
And talked a lot of goody-goody.
"Oh my," said he, with solemn frown,
"I tremble for each dancing FRATER,
Like unregenerated clown
And harlequin at some the-ayter."
He showed that men, in dancing, do
Both impiously and absurdly,
And proved his proposition true,
With Firstly, Secondly, and Thirdly.
For months both JOHN and FREDDY danced,
The curate's protests little heeding;
For months the curate's words enhanced
The sinfulness of their proceeding.
At length they bowed to Nature's rule -
Their steps grew feeble and unsteady,
Till FREDDY fainted on a stool,
And JOHNNY on the top of FREDDY.
"Decide!" quoth they, "let him be named,
Who henceforth as his wife may rank you."
"I've changed my views," the maiden said,
"I only marry curates, thank you!"
Says FREDDY, "Here is goings on!
To bust myself with rage I'm ready."
"I'll be a curate!" whispers JOHN -
"And I," exclaimed poetic FREDDY.
But while they read for it, these chaps,
The curate booked the maiden bonny -
And when she's buried him, perhaps,
She'll marry FREDERICK or JOHNNY.
Ballad: Sir Guy The Crusader
Sir GUY was a doughty crusader,
A muscular knight,
Ever ready to fight,
A very determined invader,
And DICKEY DE LION'S delight.
LENORE was a Saracen maiden,
Brunette, statuesque,
The reverse of grotesque,
Her pa was a bagman from Aden,
Her mother she played in burlesque.
A CORYPHEE, pretty and loyal,
In amber and red
The ballet she led;
Her mother performed at the Royal,
LENORE at the Saracen's Head.
Of face and of figure majestic,
She dazzled the cits -
Ecstaticised pits; -
Her troubles were only domestic,
But drove her half out of her wits.
Her father incessantly lashed her,
On water and bread
She was grudgingly fed;
Whenever her father he thrashed her
Her mother sat down on her head.
GUY saw her, and loved her, with reason,
For beauty so bright
Sent him mad with delight;
He purchased a stall for the season,
And sat in it every night.
His views were exceedingly proper,
He wanted to wed,
So he called at her shed
And saw her progenitor whop her -
Her mother sit down on her head.
"So pretty," said he, "and so trusting!
You brute of a dad,
You unprincipled cad,
Your conduct is really disgusting,
Come, come, now admit it's too bad!
"You're a turbaned old Turk, and malignant -
Your daughter LENORE
I intensely adore,
And I cannot help feeling indignant,
A fact that I hinted before;
"To see a fond father employing
A deuce of a knout
For to bang her about,
To a sensitive lover's annoying."
Said the bagman, "Crusader, get out."
Says GUY, "Shall a warrior laden
With a big spiky knob,
Sit in peace on his cob
While a beautiful Saracen maiden
Is whipped by a Saracen snob?
"To London I'll go from my charmer."
Which he did, with his loot
(Seven hats and a flute),
And was nabbed for his Sydenham armour
At MR. BEN-SAMUEL'S suit.
SIR GUY he was lodged in the Compter,
Her pa, in a rage,
Died (don't know his age),
His daughter, she married the prompter,
Grew bulky and quitted the stage.
Ballad:
With gay, grotesque, outrageous dresses,
And dances comically, like
CLODOCHE AND Co., at the Princess's.
But FREDDY tries another style,
He knows some graceful steps and does 'em -
A breathing Poem - Woman's smile -
A man all poesy and buzzem.
Now FREDDY'S operatic PAS -
Now JOHNNY'S hornpipe seems entrapping:
Now FREDDY'S graceful ENTRECHATS -
Now JOHNNY'S skilful "cellar-flapping."
For many hours - for many days -
For many weeks performed each brother,
For each was active in his ways,
And neither would give in to t'other.
After a month of this, they say
(The maid was getting bored and moody)
A wandering curate passed that way
And talked a lot of goody-goody.
"Oh my," said he, with solemn frown,
"I tremble for each dancing FRATER,
Like unregenerated clown
And harlequin at some the-ayter."
He showed that men, in dancing, do
Both impiously and absurdly,
And proved his proposition true,
With Firstly, Secondly, and Thirdly.
For months both JOHN and FREDDY danced,
The curate's protests little heeding;
For months the curate's words enhanced
The sinfulness of their proceeding.
At length they bowed to Nature's rule -
Their steps grew feeble and unsteady,
Till FREDDY fainted on a stool,
And JOHNNY on the top of FREDDY.
"Decide!" quoth they, "let him be named,
Who henceforth as his wife may rank you."
"I've changed my views," the maiden said,
"I only marry curates, thank you!"
Says FREDDY, "Here is goings on!
To bust myself with rage I'm ready."
"I'll be a curate!" whispers JOHN -
"And I," exclaimed poetic FREDDY.
But while they read for it, these chaps,
The curate booked the maiden bonny -
And when she's buried him, perhaps,
She'll marry FREDERICK or JOHNNY.
Ballad: Sir Guy The Crusader
Sir GUY was a doughty crusader,
A muscular knight,
Ever ready to fight,
A very determined invader,
And DICKEY DE LION'S delight.
LENORE was a Saracen maiden,
Brunette, statuesque,
The reverse of grotesque,
Her pa was a bagman from Aden,
Her mother she played in burlesque.
A CORYPHEE, pretty and loyal,
In amber and red
The ballet she led;
Her mother performed at the Royal,
LENORE at the Saracen's Head.
Of face and of figure majestic,
She dazzled the cits -
Ecstaticised pits; -
Her troubles were only domestic,
But drove her half out of her wits.
Her father incessantly lashed her,
On water and bread
She was grudgingly fed;
Whenever her father he thrashed her
Her mother sat down on her head.
GUY saw her, and loved her, with reason,
For beauty so bright
Sent him mad with delight;
He purchased a stall for the season,
And sat in it every night.
His views were exceedingly proper,
He wanted to wed,
So he called at her shed
And saw her progenitor whop her -
Her mother sit down on her head.
"So pretty," said he, "and so trusting!
You brute of a dad,
You unprincipled cad,
Your conduct is really disgusting,
Come, come, now admit it's too bad!
"You're a turbaned old Turk, and malignant -
Your daughter LENORE
I intensely adore,
And I cannot help feeling indignant,
A fact that I hinted before;
"To see a fond father employing
A deuce of a knout
For to bang her about,
To a sensitive lover's annoying."
Said the bagman, "Crusader, get out."
Says GUY, "Shall a warrior laden
With a big spiky knob,
Sit in peace on his cob
While a beautiful Saracen maiden
Is whipped by a Saracen snob?
"To London I'll go from my charmer."
Which he did, with his loot
(Seven hats and a flute),
And was nabbed for his Sydenham armour
At MR. BEN-SAMUEL'S suit.
SIR GUY he was lodged in the Compter,
Her pa, in a rage,
Died (don't know his age),
His daughter, she married the prompter,
Grew bulky and quitted the stage.
Ballad: