635 3 38 >y 1 WANDERING MINSTREL: ^ IF4^®2^ isff ©ssns ^(m?s, AS nnwoiLUZO at tie etiei^nttt Street ^rne^ttre, a>iiKKiiii®iaiLiPaiaii» SEVERAL EMBELLISHMENTS, PHILADELPHIA: PRINTED BY CHARLES ALEXANDER, ATHENIAN BUILDINGS, FRANKLIN PLACE. 1836. ■/ C •: '/ THE WANDERING MINSTREL: 4 i / > A8 rERFORMED AT Icne etiti^nut street ^Tfieatte, iPina^iiiD^iLiPisiitiit SEVERAL EMBELLISHMENTS, PHILADELPHIA: PRINTED BY CHARLES ALEXANDER, ATHENIAN BUILDINGS, FRANKLIN PLACE. 1836. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Old Crincum, Jem Bags, Herbert Carol, Tweed le. Mr. Watson. Mr. Burton. Mr. Walton. Mr. Ilathwell. Mrs. Crincum, .... Mrs. Thayer. Julia, Miss Fisher. Peggy, Mrs. Walstein. Musicians, Servants, &:c. TMPS2-007555 u THE ACT I. SCENE I . An Apartment in Mr. Criscv},i's House. A table in the hacltground, with break- fast things laid ; a newspaper hanging over the back of one of the chairs. Enter Julia and Mrs. Crincum. Mrs. C. I tell you, Julia, had yon the eloquence of Demosthenes, combined i with the lungs of Boreas, you might talk yourself out of breath and argument before I would consent to the match. Are you aware Mr. Carol's father was an attorney ? Julia. Well I and is not an attorney a gentleman by act of parliament ? Mrs. C. Yes ! and by act of parliament only — certainly never by any act of his own ; the very "Getit'^ one, &c.'',after an attorney's name proves how bad the portrait i$, sinp€ it req^ire^ the title to be tacked to its tail. Julia. But Herbert, my dear aunt, inherits only the money, and not the nature — the specie without the species of his father. Mrs. C. Well ! be he as rich and as liberal withal, as you please, the blood of the Crincums shall never be diluted with the wash that flows in the veins of the Carols ; but what else could be expected from a hard-hearted attorney, lilie the father ? — it's impossible to get blood from a stone. Julia. But it's money now-a-days that makes the man. Mrs. C. In my eyes it is the family, not the fortune. I confess I think with ' Shyloek, that flesh is preferable to money. Julia. That raay be your opinion — but I hold Mrs. C. You hold, indeed — hold your tongue. Julia. But let me beg you not to be so hasty in your judgment of Herbert. I'll promise to obtain his whole pedigree, and who knows but that he may yet turn out the scion of some illustrious house. Mrs. C Of some public-house, more likely. Hold your tongue, miss I — your conduct was bad enough before, but now it is abandoned. Julia. Well, I should say, the sooner bad conduct was abandoned, the better. But here comes undo. Enter Mr. Crincum. Mrs. C. So, you've found your way down at last, have you, Mr. C. ? Mr. C. I hope I have not kept you waiting, my dear. Mrs. C. Yes, you have kept me waiting, my dear — here's all the breakfast at cold as one's ancestors. Mr. C. Indeed, my love ! I'm very sorry ! (They sit down to breakfast.) Come, Julia, dear ! — heyday ! what's the matter here ! — what, are you and your aunt THE VVANDEHING MINSTREL. oool, ai well as the breakfast — quarrelling again, eh t — Ton my life, ihii hous« is a perfect college for dissension — and you, Mrs. C, you are the senior wrangUr. Mrs. C. Now, I'll put it to you, Mr. C. : you are a man of sound sense and discretion— a man whose only care, through life, has been the happiness of hj« niece — a man (.Helps him to butter.) Mr. C. There's quite enough butter, thankye, my dear. Mrs. C. I put it to you, Mr. C. : if you had a pipe of fin© old port, would you think of adulterating it with sloe juice ? — are you attending, Mr. C. ? — would you, I say, sacrifice the quality merely to gain a little in quantity ? Mr. C. Most unquestionably not, my love. Mrs. C. Then that's exactly my argument with regard to young Mr. Carol. Mr. C. What! the old story, eh? — but we'll talk of that another time. Let me see what the news is. — ( Takes up the paper and reads.) "Fashionable Intel- ligence" — "A Regular Flare up" — "Marriages" — "Amusements for the week" — " Pugilism" — " Theatre Royal, Drnry Lane, Hamlet" — "Horrible Murder" — " Paginini's Concert" — " Extraordinary charge" — Eh! what's all this about? (Looking up the paper.) Why there's no head to this article! — oh! I see! — il't one of the parliamentary articles, and they certainly don't require any. Mrs. C. Pooh! can't you find something more amusing than that to readT — give me the paper. {Takes it and looks over it.) I always look for the murders, crira. cons., &c. Eh ! what do I see ! — well now this is delightful. Julia. Read it out, aunt, pray. Mrs. C. "Is expected every day." How I long to sea the dear. Mr. C And who may this dear of yours be ? Mrs. C. " Apollo" — ah, " music hath charms to soothe the savage breast" — are you attending, Mr. C.I — do you hear me, I say ? {Reads.) " We understand a bet is on the tapis, between two persons of distinction, that a well known musical nobleman will collect a certain sum of money by travelling through the country, under the disguise of a Wandering Minstrel. The titled votary of Apollo is now on his tours, and invariably experiences the kindest receptions from the gentry of the different towns he visits, it being easy to perceive from his nobltt air and courtly demeanour that his character is assumed ; he is now journeying towards Worthing, where he is expected every day." What do you think of that, Mr. C? Mr. C. Why I think the fellow's a pretty vagabond, whoever ho be. Mrs. C. Pshaw ! doesn't the paper say he is a nobleman in disguise — but your •oul was ever dead to romance. Mr. C. Romance ! fiddlestick ! — where's the romance, I should like to know, in a fellow's rendering himself amenable to the vagrant act ? Mrs. C. I declare, Mr. C, your ideas are as ancient as your face ! Haven't you heard he's a nobleman, trying to collect a certain sum of money, under the disguise of a Wandering Minstrel? Mr. C. Well ! then he ought to be indicted for obtaining money under falw pretences — and, if I had my way, he should be. (They rise and come forward.) Mrs. C. If you had your way, indeed ! — oh, you poor weak old man ; but I never intend you to have your way, Mr. C. — no, no, the conduct you must adopt is, directly you hear of his arrival, to go yourself and place your house at his service. Mr. C. And have him continually caterwauling under my roof! — not if it was Apollo himself, instead of the votary. Mrt. C. You won't, won't you ? — but you shall, Mr. C. ; do you hear that? — . THE WANDERING MINSTREL. 5 you shall. Only imagine reading in the Court Journal, that " Mr. Crincum wa» the distinguished host, at whose mansion \^j^^andering Minstrel was so hospi- tably entertained, during his stay at Wortbing." 5iut he may be in town at ihit very moment; why don't you fly, Mr. C? — why don't you fly, I say? Julia, my dear, follow us. Who knows but that the dear creature might take a fancy to you ! Your arm, Mr. C. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Exterior of Mr. Crixcum's Houte. Enter Jem Bags, playing the Clarionet very ladly. Jem B. Veil! now, that's what I calls werry tidy work! — two bobs and a tanner for seven doors isn't so bad, blow me ! — summit better this ere, than wonding three yards of fav'rite songs for a hapny ; what miserable vork that was, to be sure : I was always a crying about the streets, "here you has 'em — here's one hundred and fifty new and pop'lar hairs for a hapny ; here's — "Mary 1 believes thee true" "Hoskey Valker" — "Giles Scroggins courted Rlolly Brown" "On the Banks of the Blue Moselle" — "Barclay and Perkins' drayman" — "H« was famed for deeds of harms" — "Ilis there a heart vot never lov'd" "Th« dandy dog's meat man" — "If 1 had a donkey what vouldn't go" "Hover the hills and faravay" — "Oh, say not woman's love is bought" for the small charge of one hapny. Then I vent driver to a hack, but that didn't answer at all ; com- petition has cut us all up, and none on us does nothin'. Song — ^The Hackney Coachman. My name's honest Jarvey, I come unto you, To tell all my woes, for I've nothing to do ; The rail roads has ruined us, and what much worse is We're druv from the streets by them curst omnibuses. Them omnibus fellers they load themselves heavy, From Schuylkill right down to the 'Change for a levy; 'Fore they were invented, I did the trick holler. And for ev'ry such job charged not less than a dollar. Then pity poor Jarvey, kind gentlefolks, pray, For he's sadly in debt, without money to pay. If you looks at my wehicle, osses, and me, A lot of starv'd hanimals plainly you'll see ; We crawls out of a morning, but's no use to talk. When we gets on the stand the osses can't walk. Once, in pleasing the ladies, it was my delight To trot 'em about from moraing till night, But now, I must own, it's a circumstance rare. That ever 1 picks up a yore from the/at>. Then pity poor Jarvey, &c. One would think the fair ladiea would all make a fuw. To sit with strange men in a long omnibus ; Yet some ladies there are, who betwixt you and I, Are fond of a bua", when a sweetheart is nigh. 6 THE WANDERING MINSTREL. Now I'll ask you the qiieslion, pray, what can be worse. Than lo clap fourteen passengers into a hearse? I peep'd into one t'oilier day, and I saw 'Tvvhere cramm'd full of ladies, wh' were all in the straw. Then pity poor Jarvey,&c. Once I used to earn near five dollars a day. And at night drive a party of folks to the play ; But if now-a-days in the country they ride, In the cars on the rail road alone they take pride. One way I account for some of my lo.sses. Half of my customers keeps tlieir own osses ; T'other half when they rides, says in accents so funny, "Just charge the fare, driver, I a'n't got no money." They pity poor Jarvey, &c. When a smart looking chap, I was fond of the girls, Black eyes, rosy cheeks, and teeth white as pearls ; But my plans in matchmaking have always miscarried, And now I'm too poor to afford to get married. Then I pray you, kind customers, Jarvey forgive, In your smiles and good-humour he wishes to live ; Only say you are pleased, and I promise, some day, You shall ride in my coach, and have nothing to pay. Then pity poor Jarvey, &c. And I dare say I might a been a following that ere calling to this werry day, if it arn't a been for Bill Raven. I never shall forget Bill Raven's a saying lo me — says he — "I say, Jem Bags, vhy doesn't you take to the singing line?" "Vhy," says I, " vhy, coz I sings vorser than an old tin teakettle." "Vorser," says he, "so much the betterer ; oh, yourn's a helegant woice for ballad singing ! a sartain fortune for any one, blow me '." "Jist show a light," says 1. "Veil, then," says lie, "I means to says as how if one, with a woice like yourn, was to strike up afore the houses — and 'specially them vith the knockers tied up— they'd villingly give sixpence to get rid on you." "I twigs," say» I — " howsom- dever," I says to myself, says I, "if my woice is a sartain fortun', what 'ud a old clarionet be, as I can't play much!" — and I was right ; what a jolly row it does kick up, to be sure ! In a quiet place like this 'ere, they'd give me any thing to get rid on me ! Directly I strikes up, out comes the sarvint with tuppence or thruppence, and borders me to move on. "Don't you wish you may get it?" Bays I ; "move on for tuppence or thruppence I vhy, does you think now I'm hintirely hignorant of the wallet/ of peace and quietness ? I never moves on under sixpence." (Looking up al the house.) But there seems summat in the quiet vay here ; 1 think as how they'd stand a shilling. {He strikes vj), taking care to make all the noise possible ; prcsenthj Mr. and Mrs. Crincu.m, the former very much annoyed at the noise, enter from the house.) Jem. B. I knew they couldn't stand that werry long. Mrs. C. See there, Mr. C. ! there he is — there's the Wandering Minstrel ! — oh, the dear melodious creature. Jem B. She says I'm a hodious screecher. I sartainly must ax 'em a shil- ling. Mrs. C. And now, Mr. C. you go and place your house at the disposal of the tilled votary of Apollo, assuring him your constant study shall b» to en- dow it witii all the ronifbrls of a home. THE WAMDERING MIiNSTREL. 7 Jem B. Veil ! if she isn't a talking abont the comforts of a home ; now, there arn't no one sets a higher loalley ori the comforts of a home, than I does — I couldn't think ef moving on under a shilling. Mrs. C. Why don't you do as I bid you ? — why don't you stii yourself, Mr. C. ? Mr. C What, make my house a home for such a vagabond as that! better convert it into a refuge for the destitute at once — Mrs. C. To call him a vagabond ! was there ever such a lamentable want of discernment ! when it's so easy to perceive his character is assumed! oh, you poor blind old man, you ! {CoiirUsies to Jem.) I fear, sir, unaccustomed as you are to your present mode of life, you must feel yourself rather fatigued. Jem B. (,Aside.) She's a trying to get rid on me vith a bit of blarney; but it ■ von't do, Mrs. — Fatigued, marm? quite the contrary! I'm as fresh as an oyster on the fifth of August ! Bless you ! I could keep all night at this ere. (.Point- ing to his clarionet.) Mrs. C. The paper was very right, he certainly has all the air of a noble- man — Jem B. The hair of a nobleman, marm ? nothing like it, I can assure you : that was the hair of" the dog's meat man ;" but the old gentleman there doesn't seem werry pleased. Mrs. C. I can assure you he's quite delighted, sir. Mr. C. No, I a'n't — no, I a'n't. Mrs. C. Hold your tongue, or I'll send you to bed. Jem. B. Howsomdever, I'm partic'Iar easy to get rid on. {Holds out his hand.) Mrs. C. There, Mr. C, I knew you'd insult the gentleman with your nonsense. {To Jem.) But I trust, sir, we are not to shake hands just yet ; be- lieve me, if there be one instrument to which Mr. C. and myself are more par- tial than another, it is the clarionet. Mr. C. No, it isn't — no, it isn't — Mrs. C. {Checking him.) Only wait till I get you alone, that's all, Mr. C. Jem B. Then the sooner I'm off the better. Mrs. C. But you will not leave us thus abruptly, and without taking any refreshment ? Jem B. Oh ! if you're going to stand summat, I'm your man. Mrs. C. My house is at your command, sir; but first allow me to inquire under what name you are at present travelling ? Jem B. Vhy, marm, I answers to the name of Jem Bags, for vant of a betterer. Mrs. C. Jem Bags! ha! ha! an excellent sobriquet* every hope of being successful with your bet ? Jem B- {Aside) My Bet ! how should she know any thing about Bet — my in- tended Betsey Bags that is to be ? Successful, marm ! it won't be long afore I has a better half. Mrs. C. Indeed ! It v;ill not be many days before you have the better half! and yet your bet must be a good round one. JemB. Vhy, yes. Bet sartainly is rather roundish, marm; but, bless your heart, such a figure ! the greatest vaste I ever seed. Mrs. C. Ahl sir, there I agree with you; bets are certainly the greatest waste possible — a shameful extravagance ! If I am not presuming, sir, how heavy may your bets run ? 8 THE WANDERING MINSTREL. Jevi B. How heavy, marm? vhy, let me see — about fourteen or fifteen aton« —say 200 lbs. Mrs. C. Two hundred pounds, sir! Jc7n B. Yes, that's about the cut, I think. Mrs. C. Oh, that's a mere trifle I Jem S. Is it, though ? Mrs. C. Now my thoughts, sir, ran nearer two thousand. Jem B. Two thousand pounds, marm ! vhy, Dan Lambert never made that are. Mrs. C. Dan Lambert ! Whom does he mean by Dan Lambert, Mr. C. ? Mr. C. I don't know Danny Lambert — Mrs. C. No, nor any thing else. He's some great sporting character, I dara ■ay. But you must feel the want of some refreshment, sir ? Jem B. Vhy, I sartainly should like a drop of heavy — Mrs. C. A drop of heavy — what's heavy, Mr. C. 1 Mr. C. I don't know — I a'n't got any heavy. Mrs. C. We have some excellent light wines, sir ; though I'm afraid we can offer you no heavy. Jem B. Blfess you ! I'm not particular to a shade. (Mrs. C. gives her arm to Jem Bags, and leads him to the door of her house, which Mr. C. has dosed; Mrs. C. pushes him aside, and goes off with Jem, who exclaims, "my heyes, here's a go!") Mr. C. {Solui.) Well ! thus it is when an old man forgets himself and mar- ries a young wife ; it's ten to one she follows his example and forgets him, loo; my wife's voice was shrill enough before, there was no need of a clarionet for an accompaniment. A Wandering Minstrel — and a lord ! A pretty lord ! the Lord knows who ! However, if he be a lord, he supports the character of a blackguard with a great deal of spirit. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Drawing Room — Tables, Chairs, ^c. Enter Pecgv, showing in Jem Bags. Peg. Will you look this way, if you please, sir ? Jem B. Ble8s.you ! when there's a pretty girl to be seed, I den't want axing to look that way ; ah I (f sees you doesn't know Jem Bags. Peg. Jem Bags I wkat ! him as used to go crying of ballads ? indeed, but I do, though ! Jem B. You does ! let me examine you ; vhy, blow me, if it arn't Peg !— the werry Peg as I used to hang my affections on ! Peg. But how comes it, Jem, you've given up a crying them ere ballads ? Jem B. Vhy, you sees, they writes such stuff now-a-days for sentimental bal- lads, they actually atn't vorth vhile crying about ; and so, as I could do nothing in that there vay — Peg. You corned down here to see if you couldn't do Master and Missus by a passing yourself off for a nobleman. TriK WANDERING MINSTREL 9 Jem B. Come out of the cart, now ! I pass myself off for a nobleman I do you think I'd make such a thorough blackguard of myself as that — Peg Why, hasn't you been making Missus believe you're the Landsora* Wandering Minstrel what's a travelling through the country for a wager? Jem B. 1 make your Missus believe I was the handsome Wandering Minstrel I why, I arn't got the face to io it ! But only to think of my being taken for a lord ! howsomdever, since it is so, you know, I shall embrace the opportunity Peg. Well! I should have thought you might have found something belter than that to embrace. Jem B. Ah! I'm fly! — it's the way with all the gals directly they sets eyes on me , they're never heasy ; but bless her little heart ! she shall have a kisi {He tdke$ hold of her hand.) Peg. No, but she won't now. (She snatches her hand avxiy, runs round the stage and exit. Jem follows her. and goes violently into the arms of Mrs. Crin- CUM, v)ho is entering with Mr. C.) Mr. C. Halloa, sir ! what are you after ? Jem B. What am I arter, old gemmen ? now I dare say, you thinks I was ar- ler that there sarvint of yourn ? Mrs. C. It is too plain, sir! and I must say, it surprises me to see a gentleman of your rank let himself down in such a way. Jem B. Lawks, marm ! there wasn't no letting down in the case! quite the contrary ! I was a keeping up my character ; you see, marm, ve vandering minstrels is so famous for running arter the gals, that one is hobligated to do it, vhether he likes it or not — Mrs. C. True, sir, I forgot ; there, Mr. C. don't you hear ? he acknowledge* himself to be the Wandering Minstrel — don't you hear, Mr. C? I came, sir, to Bay, we purpose having a small concert this evening, and to beg that we may be allowed the valuable aid of your musical abilities. Jem B. My musical abilities — ha ! ha ! My clarionet is at your sarvice, marm. Mrs. C. Ah ! sir, I knew we might count upon your acquiescence ; I havo desired the leader to wait your instructions about the music. Jem B. {Aside.) Vait my instructions ! then, hang me, if I don't think he'll have to vail a precious long time! Mrs. C. You will find him, I believe, sir, a gentleman of some skill — but hero he is, to speak for himself. Enter Tweedle. Mr. C. Mr. Tweedle— the— Mrs. C. {Pushing Mr. C. aside.) Mr. Tweedle, that is the real Wandering Minstrel. {^iK.and Mrs. C. retire up. Tweedle 6ou!S— Jeji touches his hat— lliey both advance and shake hands.) Jem B. How at| you ? are you hearty ? Tweed. I am delighted, sir, to have the honour of meeting a genileraan whose musical talents promise so much. Jem B. {Aside.) They may promise a great deal— but hang me, if they don't perform very little ! Twtcd. Respecting the selection of music for this evening— what school do you prefer f 3 10 THE WANDERING MINSTREL. JemB. What school I {Aside) Blow me, jl"! was ever inside on one .' but I must not let him know nothing about that. Vhy, I thinks as how, the Parish Bihool is a pretty lidy un. Tweed. The Paris school — ay, sir, France certainly contains some very excel- lent mnslcrs, — Auber — Heriz — Jem B. (Aside) Auber hurts ! whal does he mean by Auber hurls ? nh. I see ; old Aiihor must be the chnp vot flogs the boys at that there kcIiooI. Aiil;er hurts ! I believe you, he jusl does hurt. Lawks ! how he used to make rae sing out. to be sure! Tweed. Used to make you sing otif, did he, sir ? a plan I always adopt my- self; tlirowihe voice well out from the chest ; excellent exercise, sir. Jem B. You may say that, old chap ! bless you ! old Auber used only to give it us for the exercise ; the doctors used to recommend it. Tweed. Certainly, sir, Dr. Arne — Jem B. Ah ! I didn't know his name. Tweed. And many other equally eminent professors did so. Pray, sir, what may be your opinion of the Doctor's compositions ? Jem B. {Mahes a face expressive of disgust.) Why, my opinion is, the doctors' compositions is all werry filthy stuff Tweed. Filthy stuff! indeed, sir? but you surely would not apply so harsh a term to all the doctor's works ; do you consider his Artaxerxes ? Jim B. Consider he's arter who? Tweed. Artaxerxes, sir. Jem B. In course I does ; I considers he's arter Xerxes, and arter every bodf else, loo. Tweed. Then, sir, since you do not seem to approre of the doctor's works, what mny be your opinion of Bishop's? JemB. Of bishops? {Aside.) Well, if he isn't a going to politics ; now — how- Bomdever, so long as he fights shy of that musical work, I doesn't mind. What does I think of bishops ? why, I thinks they're just as bad, if not wurserer, than doctors. Tweed. Indeed, sir I perhaps you are no admirer of the English style ; maybe, you do not npprove of The Sea! the Sea ! of Neukomn ? Jem B. Didn't I say I vouldn't have nothing to say about bishops ! where'* th» use, then, of talking to me about the see of Neukomn ? I tell ysu, I don't wont nothing to do with the see of Neukomn, or the see of Durham, either. Tweed. The Sea of Durham ! I never recollect hearing it. Jem B. But a great many people does, though. Tweed. Well, sir, since nothing English seems to please you, what may y»\i think of Paganini ? Jem B. What ninny? Tweed. Paganini, sir; the great violinist, who has lately drawn such larga houses v\iih his one string — what may be your opinion of his powere ? Jem B. Why, my opinion is, that his powers must be werry great, if he drawt a house with one string. Tweed. Truly, sir ; and as a harpist, what think you of Boscha's science ? Jem B. Boxers' science ! now you've just hit it ! your boxers, I thinks, is one of the prettiest sciences going, and if you've a mind for any thing in that there vay — why I'm your man. (Squares at Tweedle; Mr. and Mrs. C. come d0wn *nd pnrh TwKEDLE off. Exit Tweedi-e ) THE WANDKRING MIJNSTREL. U Mr. C. Really, this behaviour surpasses every thing, sir ; the lowest vagabond would beat you — Jem B. Beat me ! would he? just you come and try, old chap, and see how i would pummel ihat there ugly face of yourn. (Jkm Bags and Mr. C. square at taih oiher — Mrs. C. inlerpost-s.) Mr. C. You im[indeiit scoundrel! Mn. C. I beg you'll keep your temper, Mr. C. Jem B. Keep his temper ! well ! I think, the sooner he loses such a temper, the better. Mrs. C. {Coaxingly) Let us leave him to himself for awhile, my dear; at present, you perceive he is rather exciied ; I will go and see after ihe gentle- man's refreshment ; now, pray don't exasperate the gentleman, Mr. C. [Exit. Mr. C. No, I won't, my dear. (Crincum squares al Jem, and then runs off.) Jem B. Go along with you, you old fool, you! that chap's a regular human wen — nothing more than a lump of superfluous flesh upon the face of natur. Enter Pecgv, slilij. Peg. Whist ! Jem, is any one with you ? Jem B. Any one with me ! no, they vas all agin me ! Peg. Against you ! what for ? why you arn't a been forgetting yourself, hav» you, Jem ? Jem B. Forgetting myself! never fear, Peggy! I thinks a great deal too much of myself, to do that. Peg. And so do I. La ! all the time you've been away — I never done nothing but remember how happy 1 was when jou first made overtures to me. Jem B. Well ! if she arn't music-mad as well as the rest on 'em ! I tell you, I don't know nothing about music. Peg. Who was a talking of music, pray? Jem B. Why, you ! didn't you say 1 made overture! J Peg. Lord, bless your innocence ! Jem B. Veil, I hope he vill. Peg. Making overtures means pledging your love. Jem B. Pledging your love! vhy, they vouldn'i lend you nothing on it. Peg. Pshaw ! it means popping the question — Jem B. Popping !— in course it does— arn't pledging and popping all the same? Peg. Well then, I mean when you used to come a courting of me ; don't you remember our nice trips to Bagnigge Welis? Jem B. Yes. and don't you remember my calling for two teas and a pot of heavy —and hadn't got no blunt, and was obligated to leave my handkerchief until Monday— and don't you remember the dances we used to have ?— don't 1 ?— and the tune too — this was it. IThey go off into aJig—JzM accompanying on the clarionet— In the middle of which a servant enters with refreshment, which Jem, m the heat oj Ins merri- ment, upsets-JEfi and Peggy run off Servant picks up the pieces, pockeU the cakey, and exit.) yi THE WANDERING MINSTREL S C K N F. IV. A Romantic Retreat. Enter Julia. Julia. This is ihe hour Herbert appointed — and yet no signs of him— would I could hear his guitar I Enter Herbert Carol. Herbert. Ha, Julia, my dear! what! beautiful and smiling as ever, eh f no wonder at my dying of love for you ! would not such bewitching smiles kill any man ? I declare ono might safely say of you, what Shakspeare says of Richard- — " You can smile, and mnrdcr vv'hile you snaile." Julia. But I fear all smiles will soon be at an end ; my aunt will not listen to your addresses, and has forbidden ray seeing you for the future — Herbert. What is to be done ? Julia. I have thought of a stratagem — my aunt gives a concert this evening, in honour of a fellow whom she has founi strolling about the village — and whom she calls the Wandering Minstrel, which, I am convinced, is not the fact ; now, if you could only obtain admission to the house, disguised as the real wanderer — I think two or three songs on your guitar would be certain to gain her consent — Herbert. And you really imagine you are to be bought for a song, do you ? I'VE A HARP FOR MY LOVE. I've a harp for my love, and a sword for my foe, And both I bear with me wherever I go. I have passed through Ihe valley, I have forded the flood. On the mountain's proud summit I've joyously stood ; My harp it is tuneful, my sword it is true. And both are devoted, dear lady, to you. I've a song for the old, that shall make them forgef. When smiling they hear me, each grief and regret, I've a song for the young, full of love and delight. And both shall be yours if you listen to-night. My harp it is tuneful, my sword it is true. And both are devoted, dear lady, to you. And when docs this said concert Lake place ? Julia. Almost immediately ! not a moment is to be lost! so, hurry you to yotir toilet. Herbert. But you will grant me one kiss, ere I go, as an encouragement ? Julia. No ! not one ! Herbert. W^ell ! then, I must e'en console myself with the one you gave m» yesterday. Julia. The one I gave you ? the one you stole, you mean. Herbert. That may be — but you know, Julia, '• the receiver of stolen goods ii as bad as the thief [Exeunt. THE WANDERING MINSTREL. 13 B C E N E V . A grand Saloon — Musiciam in the background, with music stands arranged bt/vre them — Company, <^c, dixcovered. Enter Tweedle and Julia, Mrs. CmscvM conducting Jem Bags; Ma-C./ollomng. Mrs. C. Every thing is arranged, sir, and only wails your commands, to commence onr feast ol Apollo. Jem B. Feast of Apollo! ah, marm, I believe you, directly I strikes up with this here thing-mejig. — {Pointing to his clarionet) — there will be a precious blow out. Mrs. C. Mr. Tweedle, do you conduct the Wandering Minstrel lo his seat. Jem B. Thank ye, marm, I knows how to conduct myself. (Tweedle and Jbh join the musicians; Jem taking his seat in t?ie centre ) How are you, my reg'lars ? Now, marm, vot vill you have? (As if crying ballads.) Ere you has 'em, here — "Nancy Dawson" "I met her at the Fancy Fair" — "My love ia like the red, red Rose" "D'ye call that Nothing" — "The merry Swiss Boy" "Vhat a shocking bad hat" — "Alice Gray' "Does you ever think of me, love" — "Poor Marion" "Flare up" — "I have had a pint of Sherry" with "A goblet of Bur- gundy" — and all for the charge of one penny. {Aside) At my old work again, blow me ! What will you have, marm ? Mrs. C. Any thing yo'.i please, sir; consult yourself. Jem B. Well, then, old Tweedle, Fm for "Barney Brallaghan." Tweed. Barney Brallaghan ! I am afraid it is not among our collection, sir. Jem B. Now a'n't you a pretty kind of a chap, to set yourself up for a mu- sicianer, and arn't got the overture of Barney Brallaghan ! Tweed. However, sir, we'll do our best. Jem B. And who axed you to do any more ? {Pointing to the music before him) Is this Barney Brallaghan ? Tweed. No, sir — Jem B. Never mind, 1 can make Barney Brallaghan out of it Now, then, my reg'lars — all at once. {They commence playing — Jem Bags accompanying mon discordantly on the cla- rionet ; after the first or second bar, he blows in Tweedle's ear — begins danc- ing — in the course of which, he kicks down several of the music stands, and scatters most of tfte performert — lie dances down lo the front of the stage.) Enter Peggy. Jem B. What are you interrupting the consart for? Peg. Please, marm, here's a gentleman wishes lo see you, that calls himself the real Wandering Minstrel, and says Mr. Bags is only an impostor. Jem B. {Aside.) Blow me, if it isn't all over with me, then. You're a nice harticle, a'n't you ? vhen do you expect to go to Bagnigge Veils, to drink tea vith me agin ? Can't you get rid on him no how ? — saj your Missus is out. {To Mrs. C.) It's all gammon, marm, every vord on it ; send for the beadle, and have the vagabond taken up. Mrs. C. First let me judge whether his story be totally without foundation; show him up. Peggy. {Exit Peggy. Hi^RBF.p.t Casot. is heard singing vilhont.) 14 THE WANDERING MINSTREL. Enter Herbert Carol, disguised at the Wandering Minstrel. Jem B. Do you call that chap a singer, marm 7 vhy, I'll soon show you he arn't got no more ear for music than a cosiemongei's donitey. Herb. I trust, madam, I shall be able to convince you of the error you have committed, and prove to you which of the two has the greater claim upon your hospitality. Mr. C. There, my dear, I always told you I could see through that fellow. Jem R. See through me ! what a piercing eye he must have ! a regular gimblet eye ! Mrs. C. However, to dissipate every possible doubt, we will make trial of your skill, on which Mr. Tweedle shall decide, and the reward of the winner ■liall be the hand of my niece. What say you, sir? Herb. Cheerfully, madam, do I consent. THE BLOOM IS ON THE RYE. My dearest Jane, my pretty Jane, Ah, never look so shy. But meet me in tiie evening. When the bloom is on the rye. The spring is waning fast, my love. The corn is in the ear ; The summer months are coming, love. The moon shines bright and clear. Then pretty Jane, &c. But name the day, the wedding day, And I will buy the ring ; The land and maids in favours gay. And the village bells shall ring. The spring is waning, tic Mrs. C. Beautiful indeed I and now, Mr. Bags, let us see whether you can «qual such strains; surpass them, I am convinced, no mortal can; rem«>mber