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FUN: A Parodi-tragi-comical SATIRE.
As it was to have been perform'd at the Caſtle-Tavern, Pater-noſter-Row, ON THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1752, BUT Suppreſſed, BY A Special ORDER from the LORD-MAYOR and COURT of ALDERMEN.
LONDON: Sold by F. STAMPER in Pope's-head Alley, Cornhill; and by all other Bookſellers.
MDCCLII.
[Price One Shilling.]
THE Publication of this Piece would not have been ſo long delay'd, but for the Expectation of performing it, as at firſt intended; which however, by the ſame inde
LEADING STRINGS of Action; had not the Fear of thoſe, who, like Cowards, are afraid of their own Shadows, aſſiduouſly oppos'd the Repreſentation; being terribly apprehenſive that the Strength of a poor Baby Monoſyllable might affect the MagDrawcanſir.—Such is the Force of Self-Conviction!—But as this Infant is oblig'd to walk alone, by many who are reſolv'd on it's Appearance, it's Father moſt humbly deſires the good-natur'd Town will not tumble the little Creature into the Dirt; but that they will help it forward over the Kennels of Detraction; and, in Com
This Piece of Fun, Son to the Father, and Grandſon to the Grandfather of the ſame Name, was conceiv'd, in a Fit of Laughter, about the 8th of February, in the Year 1752. —His Mother advanc'd happily in her Pregleaden Characters) in a Cheſt of Braſs ſecured, like the fortunate Tickets of a Lottery, by ſeven Locks: And of which Propheſy the following is a Tran
When FunHas a Son Then Drawcanſir's Race is run.
However childiſh and ridiculous it may ſeem for a Man to be affected with ſuch idle Stuff as this, it is not unprecedented or extravagantly ſtrange; ſince Tradition tells us, that Saturn, Father of JUPITER, the Great Grandfather of Cyrus, and many other auguſt Perſonages, were equally mov'd, by ſuch Inſtigations, to much the ſame Abſurdities.
poſitive Order came down, that Mrs. FUN, who then lay at the Caſtle-Tavern, Pater-noſter-Row, muſt not be brought to-bed within the Walls, leſt the Child, which was ſuſpected to be a Baſtard, ſhould bring a Scandal on the Dignity and Chaſtity of the City. Upon this, even while the Lady lay crying out, the Father waited on the chief Perſonage of the Liberties, with Remonſtranold Woman of a very bad Character, one Mother Midnight, who had often practis'd her Profeſſion there, tho' it was now denied others. —'Twas all in vain: The Gentleman, though he behav'd with a great deal of Politeneſs and Good-manners, was ſo prepoſſeſs'd againſt the whole Family of FUN, which had been falſely repreſented to him as of no Character or Reputation, that he not only forbid the Men Midwives doing their Duty, but ſent others to ſee his Orders duly executed.—What could now be done?—Mrs. FUN was, in the midſt of her Travail, remov'd; and, noStamina were ſound, and branched out for Life. 'Tis true, indeed, its Features were ſo defac'd, that the ſtrong Likeneſs in them was almoſt loſt; and a Weakneſs, which will be laſting as it's Life, is the Conſequence of the Uſage it then met with.—If, after all, then, it ſhould fail of anſwering thoſe Expectations the Town had of it, in Embrio; it will undoubtedly be thought, there is Reaſon enough to excuſe all the Imperfections and Failings it is unhappily afflicted with; ſince theſe are ſo far from being its Faults, that they are Misfortunes which muſt infallibly engage the Protection of every candid, tender-hearted, chriſtian Reader!
Whene'er Dulneſsannoys,We all ſhould rejoice in Chorus; The Hour of the Time's before us We all ſhould rejoice, rejoice, While around we go. Let the Scriblers write like Aſſes, Our Fire their Fire ſurpaſſes, While our Charm compleat doth grow. DA CAPO.
Ah! the Ghoſt of Vinegar! my Soul turns ſow'r within me—'tis gone—now I am an Hercules again. A Second! Trotplaid! ah! ſhake not thy goary Locks at me, thou wert a Jacobite—A Third and like the former—Filthy Hags—why do you ſhew me this?—Ano
Antony—Antony—ſit down and read the News papers—Boy, what are you gaping at? —Why the Lad's a Nizey I think—what do you ſtare at?
Father, Father, do but look at that fine Gentleman there, all over Silver amoſt—why he's as fine again as I am—I warrant his Father muſt be a Lord.
A Lord! Antony—no—no; may be not a Parliament Man.
No! why you told me Father, when you gi'n me a new Coat at your Election, that I was as fine as any Parliament Man's Son in the Na
Ay! ay!—well, well he may be a Lord's Son then, for aught I know;—or a Lord's Baſtard may be—who knows?
Ho! ho! who? So may I Father, I may be a Lord's Baſtard too, for aught I know— neither you nor I know that, you know. Ha! ha! ha!
What do you make of your Mother then, you Dog, ha!
O Lord! O Lord! O Lord!
What's the Matter, Gentlemen? What's the Matter?—Ha! Sir Nackadil Trunnion! I am very glad to ſee you.
I don't recollect, Sir, that—
What have you forgot your Nephew— my Name is Bullyboy—I am the youngeſt Son of the Family of the Bloods.
God ſo—I beg your Pardon KinſTumbledown-hall—about five years ago, you was not much higher than this. I think —Humph—quite a Man! tho' I heard as much from your Mother—well I am very glad to ſee you—here Antony—this, Sir, is my Son Antony—come hold up your Head, and let's have none of your Snuffling—why how you ſtand ſucking your Orange, as if you were going to be hang'd.
Sir, your humble Servant, I am very proud to ſee you.
Your Servant, Sir—I don't care how proud you are, not I.
Ay Sir, this Son Sir, I intend to make a great Man—I have brought him up to London with me for that Purpoſe.—You heard I
Undoubtedly, Sir.
Now Sir, as hereafter, as things may happen and turn out, if ſo be, I ſhould come to be at the Head of Affairs; I ſhall want, you know, a good clever Fellow, with a ready Wit, to write your—what do ye call 'em, Pamphlets and News-papers on my Side, when I want to carry a Point you know.—I am told your great Men have them always in Pay.—Now if I could bring my Son Antony to this, I could truſt him better than any body elſe you know, and he might ſave me Money too.
Right, Sir,
I wont do't.
You wont, Sirrah?
No, I wont.
Not aſſiſt your Father, Sirrah!—why wont you?
'Cauſe I, wont.
Oh Sir! but it is your Duty.
What did he beat me for then?
You muſt have offended him, I ſuppoſe very groſsly.
Not I—I only ſaid I might be a Lord's Baſtard for what I knew.—What Harm was
Of me Sir!
As I did not then know you, Nephew, you know—
O Lord Sir! I am not at all offended!
Well then, why ſhould Father be of
Very true.
Well then—Humph.
I'll tell you Sir Nackadil—my Couſin Antony has the Seeds of ready Wit in his Nature, and only wants a little good Inſtruction to fit him for the Taſk you intend him;—if you'll leave him to me, I'll en
Indeed! well, I am glad to hear that, and as you are ſo happily related to him, I am ſatisfied you will uſe your utmoſt Endeavours for his Improvement.—Antony!
Well, what do you ſay?
Come, be a good Boy, Sirrah, for the Future; I'll forgive you.
With all my Heart, forget and forgive I ſay;—I never lov'd to bear Malice in my Life.
Antony will give you Directions.—Antony, I ſhall leave you to keep your Couſin Company.
Couſin!—what are you my Couſin?
Ay—my Heart.
Cod, I took you to be ſome young Lord, you are ſo woundy fine.
O Couſin Antony, if you ſtay in Town and keep Company with us Bloods, you muſt leave off that Suit, and loſe theſe lanky Locks of yours.
Bloods! Couſin, why what are they? Bloods! Bloods!
Why Sir, I have the Honour to be a Blood.
O Cod! I ſhould like to be ſuch another as you very well;—why you look amoſt as well again as I do—tho', tho'f I ſay't, I'm a clever Fellow in the Main too.
Oh! a very clever Fellow, and will be much cleverer if you'll be rul'd by me.
Gauſh, I'll do any Thing you bid me.
Well then, you ſhall be a Blood:—In the firſt Place then, you muſt learn to hate that dry old Dog, that left us juſt now.
What Father! Oh Cod! I learned that a good while ago.
And then you muſt laugh at all he ſays to you.
O gauſh! but he'll break my Head for that tho'.
Pho! pho! you muſt not mind that,— if he does, you muſt laugh at him again.
So I will, now I think on't, or ſuppoſe I break his Head too: Ha!—hang me if I don't think I could beat him.
Bravo! that will do.—And then you muſt be witty upon ev'ry body.
What, cut Jokes upon 'em, ha!—oh! I am a Dab at that.
Ay Sir, but your Country Jokes are noNobody;—you muſt learn to bully, pull People by the Noſe, trip up their Heels, break their Heads, and ſo forth.
Ay, but then they muſt not be ſo big as I.
No, no, you muſt always take Care of that—but you may hum any body ſafely.
Hum—ah! pray what's that?
Why; ſuppoſe now I was to meet your Father:—I go up to him, and, with a very ſerious Countenance, ſay, Lord Sir, I wonder you can ſeem ſo unconcern'd, —do you know that your Son Antony is juſt now drop'd down dead in
an Apoplectick Fit?—Upon my Honour 'tis true. —So, putting him into the utmoſt Conſter
Cod, this is good Fun enough, and then he'd run home frighted out of his Wits, and find it all a Joke:—Ha! ha! gauſh I like that. —And will this make me a Blood?
O Lord Sir, no! theſe are but half the Qualifications. You muſt learn Humour—
O Sir, I am of a very good Humour al
Oh! that you muſt break yourſelf of— and learn to box, talk Baudy, roar and look big.
Oh! I can roar and look big—you ſhall ſee now.
O Lord Sir! that will never do—This Sir, is the way.
O Lord! O Lord!
And then to be truly humorous, you muſt ſteal Trinkets and Pocket-books from the Ladies, which you are to keep for the Jeſt's ſake;— then Sir, you are to bilk Taverns, —tumble the Waiters down Stairs, —break all the Glaſſes in your Way, —ſally into the Street, —take all the young Women you meet for Whores, and kick the old ones into the KenCovent-garden Round-houſe, —be carried before the Juſtice, where you have nothing to
Gentleman, and the old Dog his Worſhip will ſtand by you in abuſing all the World.—This, my Boy, is true Humour.—You muſt alſo be a Critic.
A Critic! ha! that's ſomething harder ſtill—is'nt.
No Sir, nothing eaſier—you can read, I ſuppoſe.
O yes, I can read.
Ay, well, but that's not very material,— if you can do any thing more than tell your Let
My Letters! oh! I could tell my Letters at 4 Years old.
That's more than ſome Critics can do at thirty.
And then I can write very well, and talk Latin:—Quid agis? What are you doing?— Repeto mecum, I am repeating by myſelf. Quid repetis.
Faith, my Boy, you are a better Scholar than half the Critics at Sam's, George's; or the Bedford.—But this is not much to the Pur
Ah! like enough, —criticiſe, —ah.
Ay, that's no more than this, Sir, —you muſt affect to have read every thing.—Then
Oh Sir, Stuff Sir, Damnation Stuff Sir, ſtupid Stuff by G—d, —the Author's an Aſs, damme.
Ah!
And then at the Appearance of a new Piece upon the Stage, you are to go, becauſe ev'ry body does—Before the Curtain riſes, you put the Houſe in a Riot, and afterwards you muſt groan and cry Augh, off, no more, no more, Damnation low!—Oh, and then Sir, you muſt whip ſuch a Machine as this out of your Pocket, and—
Ho! ho! ho! well, that's well enough, —let me try.—Damnation low!— Goles, I believe I ſhall ſoon learn,— Well, and will this make me a Blood like you, ha!
This is all the Inſtruction you will re
Will it?—Then I'll be a Blood, damme.
Well, you'll remember what I have told you, and I'll ſee you again in the Afternoon.— Here's an Acquaintance of mine coming, that I ſhall want to talk with.
Well, well, I won't tell any body what you ſay.
No Sir, you muſt leave me.
Ay, ay, take it with you to practice.
So I will.—Damnation low.
Ha! ha! ha! high Humbug! ha! ha! ha!
Sir, a Porter has brought this for your Honour.
A Letter from Jack Riot?
Damme Jack, we had high Hum laſt Night at Mother Brindles, — Bitch Peg, damnation ſaucy, —knock'd up a Duſt and play'd Hell;—you'll come to George's, — a Mob of us going to ſee Blood Henley, and Poor Nell, Juſtice to be bam'd, and the Doctor in fine Pickle, — dam my Blood.
Have among you, my Boys.
Old Women the Peſts of the Creation—what conſtitutes them? Ignorance and a College EduSmart Sayings—St. Paul's Church-yard and, Grub-ſtreet, the ſame Place—Puffs— Horſes, the Conſumers of Oats, gone to draw the Aſſes to Mother Midnight's Oratory—long Ears beſt to taſte the Muſic of the Salt-box— In my humble Opinion they are got on the wrong Side of the Poſt there—Mary Midnight not herſelf—See the Old Woman's Dunciad—what
Roxana Termagant, an old Apple Woman, who is ſhe? Who's afraid? Not I—I don't ſcreen myſelf under Petticoats—none but Fools and Villains oppoſe Juſtice.—Who's a FaSubſidies ſubſide—Who's King then?—I ſhall write my own Memoirs ſoon—or ſet up a DailyClare-market Journal—who'll ſmoke then?—Proteſtants—who?—Pope a Pop—who ſays ſo?—No honeſt Man— I am an honeſt Man—Nobody'l deny that— whoever could prove me a Rogue?
It is neceſſary Women ſhould have maſculine Epithets when Men creep into Petticoats—why ſhould not a Woman be call'd a Rogue, Raſcal, Scoundrel, Villain—no Proof to the contrary— Sauce for Gooſe Sauce for a Gander—I ſay it— prove it—New Aſtronomy, no Aſtronomy; Greſham College an Old Woman—Man in the Moon ſet up there by Moſes. Moſes a much greater Man than Sir Iſaac Newton—a Comet, what?— Neither a Catherine Pear nor a Cheſhire Cheeſe.
Mother Midnight made Uſe of unfair Weapons —Salt-boxes! why does a Salt-box make her a better Man? Why I can get five Salt-boxes, and
Canini from Bologna—come forth—now truſt your Ears—
There's the maſterly—the grand Coup— the ev'ry Thing— Muſic itſelf no more than Sound, Sound no more than Noiſe—I myſelf a good Muſician—perhaps a little harſh to old Women or ſo—but come—Signor Canini renew the Strain—
—Conviction! now who's Conqueror? Epaminondas a great Man—I much like him —have been up long enough ſince I go down unconquer'd.—
Well, Sir, and what Buſineſs do you Follow? Your Name is File you ſay—do you never attend the Play-houſe Door, to ſee the Com
No Sir.
I believe, Fellow, you don't ſtrictly confine yourſelf to Truth—did you never ſee my Face before?
No Sir—nor do I ever deſire to ſee it again.
What's that you mutter about?— Who has any Thing to lay to the Charge of this Man?
I, Sir—he aſſaulted and robbed me, as my Servants can witneſs.
Your Servants! Man—why, who are you, Fellow?
Sir.
Sir, I ſay, Man—Fellow—who are you?
I am call'd Mountain, Sir.
Mountain! alias Dunghill, ay—ay I know you—the vileſt Fellow that ever wore a
Inſolent Raſcal!
To File—ſtand you aſide, Fellow— I ſhall talk to you preſently.— File]
My Name is Brindle, if it pleaſe your Worſhip, —this young Gentleman here is a vile Fellow, and laſt Night broke into my Bed-chamber and raviſh'd me, without giving me any thing for it;—which your Worſhip knows is a cruel Thing—when I have kept Houſe in the Pariſh and paid Taxes this two Years— under your Worſhip's Protection and Favour.— But theſe young Fellows think they may do any Thing with any body, becauſe, as how, we are civil and obliging to our Cuſtomers, and all that, if it pleaſe your Worſhip.—So therefore, I beg your Worſhip will make out a Mittimus and ſend him to Newgate, and have him ſcragg'd;— for indeed 'twas a Rape, if it pleaſe your WorPenlez or Maclaine.
It is very well, Madam, we are acquain
Damme Sir!—a Bitch of Bitches— damn my Blood!
That, Sir, is nothing at all to the Pur
I very ſeldom do talk to the Purpoſe, Sir — does your Worſhip always do that? That, Sir, is a damnation Failing of mine.
Sir, I ſhall make you ſpeak to the Pur
Will you by the Lord? Then you'll make me do more than body elſe can.
Sir, do you know that I am a Juſtice of Peace?
Not I Sir, but I judge ſo by your Stu
Dare you affront a Magiſtrate, Sir, in his Office? Do you know, Sir, that I ſhall ſend you to the Gatehouſe?
Not I—damn my Blood! if I know any ſuch thing.
Do you know, Sir, that it is in my Power to commit you to Newgate?
Bedford—damme!
This muſt be ſome young Fellow of Quality by his Impudence; I muſt take Care how I act with him.—I'll try him a little further however—[Aſide] Do you know, Sir, the Con
The Conſequence of a Rape, old Boy! —a Baſtard, a Baſtard, or two at moſt— but there's no Danger with Peg there; ſhe'll breed nothing but the Conſumption of Mer
Indeed, if it pleaſe your Worſhip, I am as honeſt a Woman, in my Way, as ever broke Bread.
Only in a damn'd bad Way, Peg— I'll tell you, Bobadil—your Worſhip would do well by putting her in a better, by ſending her to Bridewell, damme!
It muſt be ſo—he's ſome Spawn of Quality—Pray, Sir, may I have the Ho
As you begin to grow a little civil and intelligible, I'll tell you, Sir—I have the HoRiot.
Lord Riot! let me ſee—whereabouts doth he lie?—In or out—Riot—Riot— out—ay; but then he's Brother to Bacon Hope
Dangle's Neice, who was Siſter to Viſcount Favour, that married the Earl of Place's Daughter, who is Son to his Grace of Promiſe; and ſo it is poſſible I may offend ſomeAſide.] Though I have not the HoJuſtice—Do you know, Miſtreſs, the Conſequence of bringing ſuch a Charge as you were going, againſt the noble Gentleman?
Indeed, if it pleaſe your Worſhip, he did—
No—Woman, he did not.
I'll take my Oath.
Ha! Woman—do you contradict me? How do you ſay it was?
—Why—if it pleaſe your Wor
How, Woman! I GOES up Stairs— falſe Engliſh, Woman, falſe Engliſh, and conſeMittimus ſhall be made out immediately.
No—no—damn the Bitch, I have abus'd her, let her go about her Buſineſs.
If 'twill oblige your Lordſhip that ſhe be diſmiſs'd—or elſe it is proper theſe PeoGood of Community— Woman, I believe you are a ſad Creature; but as I have a great deal of the Milk of Human Kindneſs
Servile Dog! Ha! ha! ha!
Hold, Sir, a Moment, perhaps I have not ſuch a Veneration for your Quality as his Worſhip; therefore I ſhall charge Mr. Conſtable with you for the Inſult you put on me laſt Night in your Way to the Round-houſe, and expect you find Bail, before his Worſhip, to anſwer me in a proper Place—I attended you here this Morn
Why, faith, thou art a very comical old Fellow, damme—Do you know now I don't remember I ever ſaw your Face before?
That may be, Sir—I muſt aſſiſt your Memory then.
Why thou art an odd Bitch—what ſhall I ſay to this Fellow, Bobadil?
Oh! I'll deal with him for your LordGatehouſe, my Lord.
Me to the Gatehouſe, Mr. Juſtice! do you know, Sir, that I am in the Commiſſion of the Peace, and of the Quorum! and that I am Repreſentative in Parliament?
For the Borough of Muddletown.
I had like to have gone too far here.
Send Sir Nackadil Trunnion to the Gatehouſe, indeed!
I beg Sir Nackadil Trunnion's Pardon in the moſt ſubmiſſive Manner, but I hope a Miſtake, ariſing from the many Deceptions People of the poorer, and conſequently of the viler, Claſs put on us, will find an Excuſe—And I hope alſo, the Error his Lordſhip might poſſibly, unknowJuſtice and the Good of Community, than the perfect Amity of People of Power and Fortune, and which it is neceſſary they ſhould preſerve, in order that the lower Part of Mankind ſhould meet with the PuHonour, Juſtice and Good-manners.
As you are ſo perfectly obliging, Sir, and ſeem to come to a right Underſtanding
A dry troubleſome old Bitch, this!— I believe I had better make it up with him, damn my Blood!—
Cod, here comes Father—now I'll have ſome Fun with him—I'll hum him, damme.
Well, Antony, what's the matter, Boy? What do you cry for? What are you blubbering about?
O Lord! Father, O Lord! O Lord! our Houſe at Tumbledown-hall is burn'd down to the Ground, and every thing deſtroy'd—here has been Steward Poundage to look for you, and tell you of it—he's gone to ſee about for you.
Tumbledown-hall burn'd to the Ground, and all the rich Furniture and Plate gone to the Dogs! oh I am ruin'd! undone! I had rather have loſt half my Eſtate. Where, where is Mr. Poundage gone? What is there nothing ſav'd at
Ho! ho! ha! a Hum—Ha! ha! ha!
What do you laugh at your Father's Misfortunes?
Why Father you're humm'd—Ho!
Humm'd! you Dog, what do you mean by that?
Ho! ho! why 'tis all a Joke—Ho! ho! I don't know any thing about Tumbledownball, not I.
You don't—and a'nt you a pretty Fellow to make Game of your Father, ha! Sir.
Ho! ho! ho! I don't mind that— damme—I muſt not heed that—there—
Amazing Impudence! you do, Sir! then there, and there, and there. [Beats him.
OLord! OLord! OLord! no indeed I don't—pray Father. [Falls on his Knees.
O! have I brought you to Reaſon young Gentleman, and pray who has been tutor
hum any body.
A mighty pretty Fellow, that! I ſhall go and acquaint my Brother Bullyboy of this Be
Yes, he ſaid I muſt learn to bully and ſwear and look big and ſo, and then I muſt learn to be a Critic, and to cry Stuff, Damnation low! and to whiſtle thus—and that would make me a great Man.
Mighty pretty! a fine Fellow, that!— I had intruſted my Son with a fine Raſcal—he would give me a good Account of him—a very good Account indeed, and this was the Way you was to become a great Man—Come along, Sir, and if ever I ſee you converſing with that Couſin of your's again, I ſhall wring your Noſe off for you—Come, Sir, I ſhall take another Courſe with you—I am now going to Greſham College —Come along, Sir—let me ſee if you can learn nothing better there.
It being reported that aHILLmuſt be levell'd, before theBedfordCoffee-houſe could be taken, Orders were given accordingly; but this was after wards found to be a Miſtake, a ſecond Expreſs aſ ſuring us, that this HILLwas only a little paultry Dunghill and had long before been levell'd with the Dirt.