Punch (30.1856)

216 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [May 31, 1856.

THE DERBY DAY
a ffiranli ©pxra.


Brown. Allegro.
To Leadenhall Market the tyrant repairs
Each morning, when quitting my Laura's retreat;
And there the oppressor—the cause of Jove's cares-
Pursues the low craft of a salesman of meat.
Oh ! how by the wretch who in carcases deals,
Can all love's delightful emotions be known ?
His bosom no softness of sentiment feels ;
His heart, like his meat, must be weighed by the stone
Jones. Allegro,
To Somerset House the poor lover repairs
Each morning, when quitting his garret's retreat.
No wonder a father with natural cares,
Thinks how's a poor husband to purchase his meat
And how by the clerk who in sentiment deals,
Can domestic felicity ever be known.
When the butcher in vain for his money appeals,
Meat fails—and contention will furnish a bone.

Grand Chorus of Cabmen.
Revenge! Revenge! 'Tis the
Cabman's cry.
Let the shout for vengeance rend the a'r;
For the Derby Diy is getting nigh.
We'll make the public pay precious high,
In revenge for the paltry sixpenny fare.
First Cabman {pointing to Ms Horse). I charge three guineas for that
old screw.
Second Cabman. That spavined jade shall bring me two.
All. We'll make the public pay. [its price,
Third Cabman {pointing to his Cab). That crazy concern shall fetch
I'll have, for the day, its value twice.
All. Hurrah for the Derby Day!
At the end of the chorus the Cabmen will disappear into the public-
house opposite, the Rank, and Brown and Jones will enter. When
in a trio with a conscientious Cabman—s. Baritone—an arrangement
may be come to for the hire of the Baritone's cab by the first and
second Tenors. There will now be an opportunity for the introduction
of a grand moving diorama of the road, introducing several scenic and
mechanical effects, comprising the turnpike-gate, with the mysterious
ceremony of taking the toll, which will admit of a bar's rest for the
orchestra. Wrhen the panorama arrives at the suburbs, a great coup de
theatre may be obtained by a view of Mb. Whippemtjp's Classical and
Commercial Academv, with the pupils drawn up in the front garden,
with faces of a high polish and hair of a smoothness for which the
bear was worried into a perspiration in the barber's back-yard, and the
grease was caught in the frying-pan. Here would be an opportunity for a
Chorus of Schoolboys.
Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy , happy, happy boys,
Whippemtjp's establishment's the scene of constant joys.
Here they never think at all of snubbing us or beating us,
But as their own family for ever they are treating us.
So by our appearances we are supposed to say,
When we are exhibited upon the Derby Day.
Jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly hours,
Schoolboy days are happiest at such a school as ours.
Parents all and guardians—bring your charges here,
To be boarded and instructed for forty pounds a-year.
So by our appearances we are supposed to say,
When we are exhibited upon the Derby Day.
As the panorama moves onwards, the following touching duett,
which speaks for itself, might take place in the cab between Brown
and Jones, the two Tenors.
Brown. Be still my heart, my bosom's fiercely bounding,
As this much cherished corner we are rounding.
Jones. Why does thine heart such strange emotions prove ?
Brown. Behold yon Villa—there resides my love.
(Andantino affetuoso) Ah ! happy ivy, that dost fondly twine
Round the green palings where my Laura dwells
Ah ! happy grotto, 'tis my Laura's shrine, _

But, oh, my heart! what anguish now I feel,
For Fathers' bosoms are of coldest steei.
Jones. Excuse my friendship, if I now inquire,
How does parental steel clash, wish love's fire?
OU hear continually of native
composers who want nothing
but a good libretto to compose an
Opera worthy of immortality, if
a Manager could only be found
to accept it, singers to sing in it,
and a theatre where it could be
brought out. We have much plea-
sure therefore in placing a plot
at the service of any would-be
Mozabt, might-be Bellini, or
could or should-be Beethoven.
We confess our predilection for
subjects of every-day life, which,
if they do not appeal to every
woman's heart, may be said to
come home to every man's bosom,
a pointof arrival, which, as it
includes the passage of the
waistcoat-pocket, where the mo-
ney is usually kept, may be sup- j ,
posed to answer the purpose of \,^rown- But see ! behold! through yonder tree,
fl,Q ¥„,cn.„r wnnlrl nrn. US—yes—do—110—it Cannot be,
My wits I feel that I shall lose,
That's Laura's form—the other's—
Jones. _ Whose ?
Brown {con strepito). Fury and madness, confusion and shame
Bring me an engine—extinguish the flame;
Lay on the wafer, be prompt with the hose;
Blest be the hand which the cold liquid throws
Over the fire that burns in my frame,
Fury and madness, confusion and shame.
Jones. Don't talk such nonsense—'tis trash that you speak,
Gammon and spinach, and bubble and squeak ;
Why should you care for a light-hearted flirt;
Don't talk of engines, but call for a squirt;
You'll have forgotten the jade in a week,
Gammon and spinach, and bubble and squeak.
Brown {subdued). Alas! you little know! that form which stands
By Laura's side, and clasps her faithless hands ;
Is my detested rival—once my friend,
Augustus Robinson of Ponder's End.
Jones. What if it i3 ? We cannot all be blest,
Let Laura have him if she likes him best—
And you at once, send every care away,
In the enjoyment of this Derby Day.

the Manager. We would pro
pose to open the Opera with a
busv scene on a cab-rank,

Together.
Brown. Fury and madness, &c. Jones. Don't talk such nonsense, &g
A considerable amount of concerted music, with a canon for six
policemen, and a scherzo for a turnpike-man, in a running accompani-
ment after a cart that had driven through without paying the toll,
would make an appropriate finish to the First Act.
The Second Act would open with a view of the race-course and all its
numerous appointments, when a novel and characteristic trio might be
introduced after the following fashion, between Thimblerigger (a Bass)
and Brown and Jones (the two Tenors) :
Thimblerigger. Here I be, with my innocent pea ;
Where ! put it, you all can see,
From thimble to thimble my fingers nimble,
Shift the simple pea about;
Now 'tis here—'twill disappear;
If I win, I win 'tis clear—
But if I'm losing, I'm not refusing,
To lay my money boldly out.
Broicn {aside to Jones). If to make money one cared a pin,
There's a fine opportunity here to win;
If Laura were banished quite from my mind,
Some amusement, I think, I here could find.
Jones. Don't think of Laura. There ! there ! did you see ?
Tis clear enough where he put the pea.
Thimblerigger. Here I be, with my innocent pea, &c. &c.
Brown. Friend, if it were not cheating you,
I'd wager a pound—
Thimblerigger. You may make it two ;
Sometimes I lose—I sometimes win,
It matters not to me a pin ;
Here I be, with my innocent pea,
Where I put it you all can see-

Tis there she sits enthroned on oyster-shens. [Looking round about Jam and working the thimbles.