A Century of Parody and Imitation

by Unknown

DRURY LANE HUSTINGS.

A NEW HALFPENNY BALLAD.
BY A PIC-NIC POET.

This is the very age of promise: To promise is most courtly and fashionable. Performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgement that makes it.

Timon of Athens.

[To be sung by Mr. Johnstone in the character of Looney M'Twolter.]

I.

Mr. Jack, your address, says the Prompter to me,

So I gave him my card—no, that a'nt it, says he;

'Tis your public address. Oh! says I, never fear,

If address you are bother'd for, only look here.

[Puts on hat affectedly.

Tol de rol lol, &c.

II.

With Drury's for sartin we'll never have done,

We've built up another, and yet there's but one;

The old one was best, yet I'd say, if I durst,

The new one is better—the last is the first.

Tol de rol, &c.

III.

These pillars are call'd by a Frenchified word,

A something that's jumbled of antique and verd;

The boxes may show us some verdant antiques,

Some old harridans who beplaster their cheeks.

Tol de rol, &c.

IV.

Only look how high Tragedy, Comedy, stick,

Lest their rivals, the horses, should give them a kick!

If you will not descend when our authors beseech ye,

You'll stop there for life, for I'm sure they can't reach ye.

Tol de rol, &c.

V.

Each one shilling god within reach of a nod is,

And plain are the charms of each gallery goddess—

You, Brandy-faced Moll, don't be looking askew,

When I talk'd of a goddess I didn't mean you.

Tol de rol, &c.

VI.

Our stage is so prettily fashion'd for viewing,

The whole house can see what the whole house is doing:

'Tis just like the Hustings, we kick up a bother;

But saying is one thing, and doing's another.

Tol de rol, &c.

VII.

We've many new houses, and some of them rum ones,

But the newest of all is the new House of Commons;

'Tis a rickety sort of a bantling, I'm told,

It will die of old age when it's seven years old.

Tol de rol, &c.

VIII.

As I don't know on whom the election will fall,

I move in return for returning them all;

But for fear Mr. Speaker my meaning should miss,

The house that I wish 'em to sit in is this.

Tol de rol, &c.

IX.

Let us cheer our great Commoner, but for whose aid

We all should have gone with short commons to bed;

And since he has saved all the fat from the fire,

I move that the house be call'd Whitbread's Entire.

Tol de rol, &c.

'"A New Halfpenny Ballad," by a Pic-Nic Poet, is a good imitation of what was not worth imitating—that tremendous mixture of vulgarity, nonsense, impudence, and miserable puns, which, under the name of humorous songs, rouses our polite audiences to a far higher pitch of rapture than Garrick or Siddons ever was able to inspire.'—Edinburgh Review.