[Takes off begging paper.]
"I'm starving." Ah, it happens to be true!
On air I cannot feed, howe'er one stuffs,
Not even when it comes to me in puffs.
I wonder what's become of our small party,
Who, yesterday, were sailing well and hearty?
I saw our shipwrecked crew sink in the bay;
'Twould be a subject fit for Frith, R.A.
And if the shore last night they failed in gaining,
I am the only Landseer now remaining.
Being no gambler, I'll ne'er trust again
My fortunes to the chances of the main.
In 1863 Mr. Burnand brought out, at the Royalty, "Ixion, or the Man at the Wheel,"[17] which proved to be one of the happiest of his efforts. This he followed up, at the same theatre, two years later, with "Pirithous," in which the adventures of Ixion's son were as humorously depicted. In the interval he had produced at the Olympic "Cupid and Psyche" (December, 1864), a burlesque on an ever-popular subject. Years before—so early as 1837—a piece called "Cupid," written by Joseph Graves, had been represented at the Queen's and Strand, with Wild and Miss Malcolm at the one house and Hammond and Miss Daly at the other as the God of Love and his beloved. In "Cupid," however, there was little verbal wit. The god figured as a gay deceiver, who had promised marriage to Psyche, but had refused to "implement" the undertaking. Whereupon Jupiter decides that Cupid shall be shot dead by Psyche; but she, using the god's own arrows, does but transfix him with the love she yearns for. Cupid sings, early in the piece, a parody of "The Sea! the Sea!" beginning—
Psyché! Psyché! my own Psyché,
The pretty, fair, and ever free!—
But, otherwise, Graves's "book" is not particularly brilliant, Though smoothly written and fairly brisk in action.
In "Cupid and Psyche" Mr. Burnand made Psyche the daughter of a king, who, because she will not marry and thus relieve him of the anxiety caused by a certain Prophecy, chains her to a rock on the sea-shore. To this he is incited by Venus, who regards Psyche as her rival in beauty. Psyche is duly rescued and espoused by Cupid, who (as in the old myth) remains invisible to her until her curiosity gets the better of her prudence; and, in the end, Venus abates her enmity, and the union of the pair is duly recognised. In one place, Psyche, entering, distractedly, in search of Cupid, cries:—
A river! I debate with myself wedder
I'll end my tale with a sensation header
From a small boat. It could not clear the reeds;
One cannot make an oar way through these s(weeds).
Why should I live? Alas, from me forlorn
Each lad turns on his heel to show his (s)corn!
The county lads to me make no advances;
The county girls avert their county-nances.
Counties! (struck with an idea) I'll drown myself,—
Down hesitation!
Nor men, nor folk, shall stop my suffoc-ation!
Elsewhere Mars says to Cupid:—
Stop, you ill-bred little pup!
Is this the way an 'Arrow boy's brought up?
Your conduct would disgrace the lowest Cretan.