DOI Heft:
July 18, 1863
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16872#0033
21
July 18, 1863.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
PER-FECT-LY WE-DICULOUS !
Conductor (Setting down Two of liis Passengers). “ Change, Sir? Oh, I beg yer pardon, Sir, I took for Two! I thought this Young Woman
was along o’ You, Sir ! ”
POST-PRANDIAL DUET,
OR CARMEN AMCEB2EUM.
As lately sung at the M-n-s-n House, with great applause, by
The Earl of D-by and Mr. Dis-a-li.
B-by. My Lord Mayor, as our host, in proposing the toast
Bis. Which you gave in so handsome a manner,
B-by. A great honour you’ve done us, and every one
Bis. Underneath the Conservative banner.
B-by. I receive it with pride, and my friend by my side
Bis Will concur in that just observation.
B-by. I rejoice that we seem to have won your esteem,
Bis. And have met with your kind approbation.
B-by. That’s peculiarly sweet, coming after a treat
Bis. Which has given us real enjoyment.
B-by. Of a meeting like this all the business is bliss;
Bis. ’Tis a truly delightful employment!
B-by. All the more, my Lord Mayor, relish we your good fare
Bis. That ’tis such a long while since we tasted
B-by.. Of official good things, that our maws famine wrings;
Bis. And your turtle-soup will not be wasted.
B-by. ’Tis a bore, l will say, a severe trial, nay,
Bis. Provoking, vexatious, annoying,
B by. Out of luck to remain, so long forced to abstain
Bis. From the fat you behold others cloying.
B-by. Here have we had to wait, and in both Church and State,
Bis. Every slice, large and small, see them carving,
B-by. To explain our sad plight almost ready to write,
Bis. On the floor of the House, “We are Starving.”
B by. But our hunger, at least, has been stayed by a feast,
Bis. Representing the goal of our wishes.
B-by. For to what other end do we strive and contend
Bis. Than the best of good liquors and dishes ?
B-by. Thus divinely to eat, and to drink, would complete
Bis. The content of our highest ambition,
B-by. Hid the Ministers share this repast, my Lord Mayor,
Bis. And were we in their happy position.
A WORD WITH M. THALBERG.
Monsieur Thalberg, Monsieur Thalberg, what are you about,
Sir ? What d’ye mean by frightening us by letting it be advertised that
your performance at the Crystal Palace last week was your “ farewell
recital”? No doubt you love retirement, everybody does, but you
have surely not the cruelty to think of it at present ? Your villa near
to Naples is no doubt a sweet retreat, but to think of it at present
would be simply villa-nous. Recollect, you have a duty to perform to
the public, and the public will not let you off from your performance.
While you give us so much pleasure, you must not consult your own :
we love your play so much that we would always have you work at it.
A few bars’ rest is all that we can let you take; or come, say a lew
months’, if you really do require it. Yes, Halle is delightful, and so
is Arabella : but because a tart is street, are we to have no turtle ?
There is nobody to fill your place, Sir, if you go: for nobody can make
the piano sing as you can. A piano is to many a piano-forte-et-dure,
! an instrument of horribly excruciating torture. But in your hands a
[piano never can torment, it can only charm and gratify. With Miss
' Blank, and some few other hundred girls who shall be nameless, a piano
is a box of tinkling jangling wires, winch serve only to emit a stupid jig
or senseless polka. With you it is for sweetness as the voice of Jenny
Lind ; and lor fire and force and fulness, as the orchestra of Mellon.
So don’t talk of retirement if you please, good Monsieur Thalberg.
it is a pleasure to hear you play, and we have not so many pleasures
that we can well afford to lose one. And why should you retire? There
is no lack of life about you. Your right hand has not lost its cunning,
nor your left one either—that is, if you have a left, which your playing
makes one question. It is a tempi ing thing no doubt to try the Southern
lazyfaire, and join the Naples lazy roni: but you must not think of
leaving till the ladies give you leave, aud, with Judy at their head, the
ladies all protest they cannot part with you at present.
July 18, 1863.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
PER-FECT-LY WE-DICULOUS !
Conductor (Setting down Two of liis Passengers). “ Change, Sir? Oh, I beg yer pardon, Sir, I took for Two! I thought this Young Woman
was along o’ You, Sir ! ”
POST-PRANDIAL DUET,
OR CARMEN AMCEB2EUM.
As lately sung at the M-n-s-n House, with great applause, by
The Earl of D-by and Mr. Dis-a-li.
B-by. My Lord Mayor, as our host, in proposing the toast
Bis. Which you gave in so handsome a manner,
B-by. A great honour you’ve done us, and every one
Bis. Underneath the Conservative banner.
B-by. I receive it with pride, and my friend by my side
Bis Will concur in that just observation.
B-by. I rejoice that we seem to have won your esteem,
Bis. And have met with your kind approbation.
B-by. That’s peculiarly sweet, coming after a treat
Bis. Which has given us real enjoyment.
B-by. Of a meeting like this all the business is bliss;
Bis. ’Tis a truly delightful employment!
B-by. All the more, my Lord Mayor, relish we your good fare
Bis. That ’tis such a long while since we tasted
B-by.. Of official good things, that our maws famine wrings;
Bis. And your turtle-soup will not be wasted.
B-by. ’Tis a bore, l will say, a severe trial, nay,
Bis. Provoking, vexatious, annoying,
B by. Out of luck to remain, so long forced to abstain
Bis. From the fat you behold others cloying.
B-by. Here have we had to wait, and in both Church and State,
Bis. Every slice, large and small, see them carving,
B-by. To explain our sad plight almost ready to write,
Bis. On the floor of the House, “We are Starving.”
B by. But our hunger, at least, has been stayed by a feast,
Bis. Representing the goal of our wishes.
B-by. For to what other end do we strive and contend
Bis. Than the best of good liquors and dishes ?
B-by. Thus divinely to eat, and to drink, would complete
Bis. The content of our highest ambition,
B-by. Hid the Ministers share this repast, my Lord Mayor,
Bis. And were we in their happy position.
A WORD WITH M. THALBERG.
Monsieur Thalberg, Monsieur Thalberg, what are you about,
Sir ? What d’ye mean by frightening us by letting it be advertised that
your performance at the Crystal Palace last week was your “ farewell
recital”? No doubt you love retirement, everybody does, but you
have surely not the cruelty to think of it at present ? Your villa near
to Naples is no doubt a sweet retreat, but to think of it at present
would be simply villa-nous. Recollect, you have a duty to perform to
the public, and the public will not let you off from your performance.
While you give us so much pleasure, you must not consult your own :
we love your play so much that we would always have you work at it.
A few bars’ rest is all that we can let you take; or come, say a lew
months’, if you really do require it. Yes, Halle is delightful, and so
is Arabella : but because a tart is street, are we to have no turtle ?
There is nobody to fill your place, Sir, if you go: for nobody can make
the piano sing as you can. A piano is to many a piano-forte-et-dure,
! an instrument of horribly excruciating torture. But in your hands a
[piano never can torment, it can only charm and gratify. With Miss
' Blank, and some few other hundred girls who shall be nameless, a piano
is a box of tinkling jangling wires, winch serve only to emit a stupid jig
or senseless polka. With you it is for sweetness as the voice of Jenny
Lind ; and lor fire and force and fulness, as the orchestra of Mellon.
So don’t talk of retirement if you please, good Monsieur Thalberg.
it is a pleasure to hear you play, and we have not so many pleasures
that we can well afford to lose one. And why should you retire? There
is no lack of life about you. Your right hand has not lost its cunning,
nor your left one either—that is, if you have a left, which your playing
makes one question. It is a tempi ing thing no doubt to try the Southern
lazyfaire, and join the Naples lazy roni: but you must not think of
leaving till the ladies give you leave, aud, with Judy at their head, the
ladies all protest they cannot part with you at present.