(Aside to Mr. C.) – Was it for this I gave my faith to you?
(Aside to Capt. C.) – Was it for this I drove you out to Kew,
Paid cab and lunch, brown stout, and ruin blue?
Pieman.– That 'ere flash madam hit me in the withers.
All-hot (pointing to Mr. Clipclose).– And that cove knock'd my kitchen-range to shivers!
Mr. C. (to Policeman.) – Let me explain, sir.
Miss S. Pray, sir, let me speak.
Policeman.– Silence! and keep your gammon for the beak.
Policeman.– Zounds! what is this? it smothers me almost.
Is it the gas-pipe?
Capt. C. No, dash my wig! a ghost!
Roundelay —Ghost and Company.
("Good morrow to you, Madam Joan.")
All in the family way,
Whack-fal-li, fal-la-di-day!
Are you met here to take tea?
Whack-fal-li, &c.
Or is it love-making you're come?
Tol-de-re-lol, &c.
Or to keep clear away from a bum?
Whack-fal-li, &c.
Oh, no, sir! we're going to jail,
Whack-fal-li, &c.
Unless, Mister Ghost, you'll go bail,
Whack-fal-li, &c.
A spectre, Miss S. will not do,
Whack-fal-li, &c.
Where the blazes! should we look for you?
Whack-fal-li, &c.
Ah, Terry, you traitor, you're there!
Whack-fal-li, &c.
As usual, deceiving the fair!
Whack-fal-li, &c.
You'll pay dear enough for your pranks!
Whack-fal-li, &c.
You're broke, and reduced to the ranks!
Whack-fal-li, &c.
By St. Patrick, I'm done for, at last!
From a captain come down to a private.
Terry Connor, your glory is past;
A very nice pass to arrive at!
(To the Ghost.)
I say, you old rum-looking swell,
I would deem it a favour, and civil,
In spite of your sulphur'ous smell,
To take me down stairs to the devil,
And get me a troop in his guards.
Ghost (to the Capt.) – Shut your potato-trap! we still refuse —
The corps's so moral – Life-Guardsmen and Blues.
4th Wife.– Cheer up, my Connor; 'twas in jest I spoke,
When I affirm'd my best beloved was broke.
Ghost (addressing the company).– Ladies and Gemmen, give the ghost a hearance,
As this, his first, must be his last appearance.
(To Mr. and Mrs. Clipclose) – Bent upon wedlock, and an heir, to vex ye,
If toasted cheese had not brought apoplexy,
I died asleep, and left my hard-won riches;
Search the left pocket of my dark drab breeches;
Open the safe, and there you'll find my will;
Deal for cash only and stick to Ludgate-hill;
Watch the apprentices, and lock the till;
And quit the turf, the finish, and the mill;
Turn a new leaf, and leave off former sins;
Pay the pieman, and mend young "All-hot's" tins.
Mr. C. (doubtfully.) – Did you die rich, dad?
Ghost. Rich as any Jew;
And half a plum, son Bob, devolves on you.
Mrs. C.– What a dear ghost, to die when he was wanted!
Will you forgive me?
Ghost. Ma'am, your pardon's granted.
My time's but short; but still, before I go,
With Miss Juliana I would sport a toe.
Miss S.– With all my heart. What would your ghostship order?
Ghost.– Tell them to play, "Blue bonnets o'er the border."
Apollonicon strikes up the country-dance. Ghost leads off with Miss Smashaway; the Captain follows with Mrs. Clipclose; Clipclose, Mags, Snags, and Poppleton each choose one of the Captain's Wives; the Police dance with the Ladies' Maids; and the Pieman with "All-hot." Twice down the middle, poussette, and form hands round. At the end of the dance, the Ghost vanishes, and the remainder of the dramatis personæ take hands, and advance to the stage-lights.
Dad's away, and we may play,
Nor dread Old Grumpy's frown;
Well may we say, "thrice happy day
When Square-toes toddled down!"
There's now luck about the house,
There's now luck to a';
There's now luck about the house
Since grumpy dad's awa!
"I am not in the habit of frequenting the theatres, nor indeed any public house, except the House of Commons; neither do I pretend to be particularly conversant with the drama: but, by general consent, this play has been declared not inferior to the happiest effort of the bard of Avon, as player-people call William Shakspeare. I have not seen it represented; for, the free list being suspended, prudence would not permit me to attend. Had half-price been taken, I think I should have gone to the two-shilling gallery; but this question is irrelevant.
"The author deserves well of his country. Indeed, his is a double claim; and the debt consequently due by the public would amount to a large tottle. No doubt the restoration of the drama is a matter of some importance;