Punch and Judy/The Tragical Comedy of Punch and Judy
THE
TRAGICAL COMEDY, OR COMICAL TRAGEDY
OF
PUNCH AND JUDY.
PREFACE.
The following drama is founded chiefly upon the performance of an old Italian way-faring puppet-showman of the name of Piccini, who has perambulated town and country for the last forty or fifty years. Like the representations of our early stage, it was not by him distinguished into acts and scenes, but the divisions were easily made; and the whole now assumes a shape, in which it may rival most of the theatrical productions of the present era, whether by Poole, popular for his "Paul Pry," Peake for his puns, Planché for his poetry, Peacock for his parodies, or Payne for his plagiarisms.
Piccini lives in the classical vicinity of Drury Lane, and is now infirm; but he still travels about, considering it "no sin to labour in his vocation:" he is thus described by a writer in a discontinued periodical, called the "Literary Speculum," which we quote, because it is the only printed notice we have seen of an individual so generally known. It is to be observed, that the article to which we are indebted, was published many years ago, and the author of it speaks of his own youth, when Piccini's age was "as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly," and before "time, the old clock-setter," had nearly let him run the whole length of his chain without winding him up again." "He (Piccini) was an Italian; a little thick-set man, with a red humourous looking countenance. He had lost one eye, but the other made up for the absence of its fellow by a shrewdness of expression sufficient for both. He always wore an oil-skin hat and a rough great coat. At his back he carried a deal box, containing the dramatis personæ of his little theatre; and in his hand the trumpet, at whose glad summons, hundreds of merry laughter-loving faces flocked round him with gaping mouths and anxious looks, all eager to renew their acquaintance with their old friend and favourite, Punch. The theatre itself was carried by a tall man, who seemed a sort of sleeping partner in the concern, or mere dumb waiter on the other's operations." The woodcut on our title page, precisely corresponds with this lively description, making some allowance for the difference of age in the master of the puppet-show; still, however, not too old to carry his deal box and to blow an "inspiring air."
Besides Piccini's representation, we have compared the following pages with, and corrected them by the exhibitions of other perambulatory artistes (as our neighbours term them) now flourishing. It will be remarked that various parodies and snatches of songs are introduced, which are at present commonly omitted, though adding greatly to the humour and spirit of the piece: for many of these we are indebted to a manuscript, with the use of which we have been favoured, by a gentleman who undertook about the year 1796 to perform the task we have now executed, by giving the unwritten, if not strictly extempore, dialogue of "Punch and Judy" a permanent and tangible shape. The tunes and words for these musical accompaniments of the puppet-show have varied from time to time, according to circumstances; they take a tolerable extensive range, the oldest being adapted from "The Beggar's Opera," first acted January 29th, 1728, and the more modern from recent popular operas.
Piccini's exhibition was, in the first instance, purely Italian, and such colloquies as he introduced were in the language of that country: he soon learnt a little broken English, and adapted his show more to the taste of English audiences. It is too much to suppose that the notion that Punch is a foreigner, and ought always to speak like one, is taken from Piccini, because Punch has been looked upon as a stranger more welcome than most, from the first moment he set his foot in this country. The performers of "Punch and Judy," who are natives of Great Britain, generally endeavour to imitate an "outlandish dialect."
There is one peculiarity about Piccini's puppets which deserves notice: they are much better carved, the features having a more marked and comic expression than those of his rivals. He brought most of them over with him from Italy, and he complained that in England he had not been able to find any workmen capable of adequately supplying the loss, if by chance one of his figures had been broken or stolen. Why his Punch was made to squint, or at least to have what is known by the epithet of a swivel-eye, unless for the sake of humour or distinction, does not appear: in this obliquity of vision, he only follows the greatest hero of Italian romance, Orlando, of whom Pulci tell us,
"Orlando molto ne gli occhi era fiero;
Tanto che alcun autore dice e pone,
Ch' egli era un poco guercio, a dire il vero."
These lines are in Canto 20 of the "Morgante Maggiore, in the following Canto he repeats the assertion, in which he is supported by Boiardo in various parts of his "Orlando Innamorato," but particularly in Canto 41, where Astolpho in high indignation against the Paladin, exclaims,
"Ov' è quel guercio traditore,
Ch' ha tanto ardir di dir ch' io son buffone?"
In fact, Orlando, as drawn by these poets, had little but his strength and courage to make the ladies love him, and the Pagans fear him; and in all respects he was far inferior to Punch.
We have already spoken of Le Sage and Piron, as writers of Puppet Plays, and we might have introduced many other distinguished authors who lived about the opening of the last century. It is well known how popular this species of entertainment was, and still is in Germany; and its dignity will receive a considerable accession, from the fact, that the greatest poet of that country, Goëthe, did not scruple to write one on the sacred story of Esther and Ahasuerus; he calls it "Neueröffnetes moralisch-politisches Puppenspiel, and Hanns Wurst," or Jack Pudding, is employed to amuse the spectators between the acts.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
- PUNCH.
- SCARAMOUCH.
- THE CHILD.
- COURTIER.
- DOCTOR.
- SERVANT.
- BLIND MAN.
- CONSTABLE.
- POLICE OFFICER.
- JACK KETCH.
- THE DEVIL.
- TOBY.
- HECTOR.
- JUDY.
- POLLY.
THE
TRAGICAL COMEDY, OR COMICAL TRAGEDY
OF
PUNCH AND JUDY.
Prologue.[1]
Ladies and Gentlemen, pray how you do?
If you all happy, me all happy too.
Stop and hear my merry littel play;
If me make you laugh, me need not make you pay.
Exit.
Act I.—Scene 1.
Mr. Punch is one jolly good fellow,
His dress is all scarlet and yellow,[3]
And if now and then he gets mellow,
It's only among his good friends.
His money most freely he spends;
To laugh and grow fat he intends;
With the girls he's a rogue and a rover;
He lives, while he can, upon clover
When he dies—it's only all over;
And there Punch's comedy ends.
(he continues to dance and sing, and then calls
"Judy, my dear! Judy!")
Enter the Dog Toby.
Punch. Hollo, Toby! who call'd you? How you do, Mr. Toby? Hope you very well, Mr. Toby.
Toby. Bow, wow, wow!
Punch. How do my good friend, your master, Mr. Toby? How do Mr. Scaramouch?[4]
Toby. Bow, wow, wow!
Punch. I'm glad to hear it. Poor Toby! What a nice good-temper'd dog it is! No wonder his master is so fond of him.
Toby. (snarls) Arr! Arr![5]
Punch. What! Toby! you cross this morning? You get out of bed the wrong way upwards?
Toby. (snarls again) Arr! Arr!
Punch. Poor Toby. (putting his hand out cautiously, and trying to coax the dog, who snaps at it) Toby, you're one nasty cross dog: get away with you! (strikes at him)
Toby. Bow, wow, wow! (seizing Punch by the nose)
Punch. Oh dear! Oh dear! My nose! my poor nose! my beautiful nose! Get away! get away, you nasty dog—I tell your master. Oh dear! dear!—Judy! Judy!
Punch. (solus, and rubbing his nose with both hands) Oh my nose! my pretty littel nose ![6] Judy! Judy! You nasty, nasty brute, I will tell you master of you. Mr. Scaramouch! (calls) My good friend, Mr. Scaramouch! Look what you nasty brute dog has done!
Enter Scaramouch, with a stick.
Scara. Hollo, Mr. Punch! what have you been doing to my poor dog?
Punch, (retreating behind the side scene, on observing the stick, and peeping round the corner) Ha! my good friend, how you do? glad to see you look so well. (aside) I wish you were farther with your nasty great stick.
Scara. You have been beating and ill-using my poor dog, Mr. Punch.
Punch. He has been biting and ill-using my poor nose,—what have got there, sir?
Scara. Where?
Punch. In your hand?
Scara. A fiddle.
Punch. A fiddel! what a pretty thing is a fiddel!—can you play upon that fiddel?
Scara. Come here, and I'll try.
Punch. No, thank you— I can hear the music here, very well.
Scara. Then you shall try yourself. Can you play?
Punch, (coming in) I do not know, 'till I try.[7] Let me see! (takes the stick, and moves slowly about, singing the tune of the "Marche des Marseillois." He hits Scaramouch a slight blow on his high cap, as if by accident)
Scara. You play very well, Mr. Punch; now let me try. I will give you a lesson how to play the fiddle. (takes the stick, and dances to the same tune, hitting Punch a hard blow on the back of his head) There's sweet music for you.
Punch. I no like you playing so well as my own. Let me again. (takes the stick, and dances as before: in the course of his dance he gets behind Scaramouch, and, with a violent blow knocks his head clean off his shoulders) How you like that tune, my good friend? That sweet music, or sour music, eh?[8] He, he, he! (laughing, and throwing away the stick) You'll never hear such another tune, so long as you live, my boy. (sings the tune of "Malbroug," and dances to it) Judy, Judy, my dear! Judy, can't you answer, my dear?
Judy, (within) Well! what do you want, Mr. Punch?
Punch. Come up stairs: I want you.
Judy. Then want must be your master. I'm busy.
Punch, (singing tune, "Malbroug")
Her answer genteel is and civil!
No wonder, you think, if we live ill,
And I wish her sometimes at the Devil,
Since that's all the answer I get.
Yet, why should I grumble and fret,
Because she's sometimes in a pet?
Though I really am sorry to say, sirs,
That that is too often her way, sirs.
For this, by and by, she shall pay, sirs.
Oh, wives are an obstinate set!
Judy, my dear! (calling) Judy, my love—pretty Judy, come up stairs.
Enter Judy.
Judy. Well, here I am! what do you want, now I'm come?
Punch, (aside) What a pretty creature! An't she one beauty?
Judy. What do you want, I say?
Punch. A kiss! a pretty kiss! (kisses her, while she hits him a slap on the face)
Judy. Take that then: how do you like my kisses? Will you have another?
Punch. No; one at a time, one at a time, my sweet pretty wife, (aside) She always is so playful. Where's the child? Fetch me the child, Judy, my dear.
Exit Judy.
Punch. (solus) There's one wife for you! What a precious darling creature? She go to fetch our child.[9]
Re-enter Judy with the Child.
Judy. Here's the child. Pretty dear! It knows its papa. Take the child.
Punch. (holding out his hands) Give it me—pretty littel thing! How like its sweet mamma!
Judy. How awkward you are!
Punch. Give it me: I know how to nurse it so well as you do. (she gives it him) Get away! (Exit Judy. Punch nursing the Child in his arms) What a pretty baby it is! was it sleepy then? Hush-a-by, by, by. (sings to the tune of "Rest thee, Babe")[10]
Oh, rest thee, my baby,
Thy daddy is here:
Thy mammy's a gaby,
And that's very clear.
Oh, rest thee, my darling,
Thy mother will come,
With a voice like a starling;—
I wish she was dumb!
Poor dear littel thing! it cannot get to sleep: by, by; by, by, hush-a-by. Well, then, it shan't, (dances the Child, and then sets it on his lap, between his knees, and sings the common nursery ditty,)
Dancy baby diddy;
What shall daddy do widdy?
Sit on his lap,
Give it some pap;
Dancy, baby, diddy.[11]
What is the matter with it. Poor thing! It has got the stomach ache, I dare say. (child cries) Hush-a-by, hush-a-by! (sitting down, and rolling it on his knees) Naughty child!—Judy! (calling) the child has got the stomach ache. Pheu! Nasty child! Judy, I say! (Child continues to cry) Keep quiet, can't you? (hits it a box on the ear) Oh you filthy child! What have you done? I won't keep such a nasty child. Hold your tongue! (strikes the Child's head several times against the side of the stage) There!—there! there! How you like that? I thought I stop your squalling. Get along with you, nasty, naughty, crying child, (throws it over the front of the stage, among the spectators)— He! he! he! (laughing and singing to the same tune as before)
Get away, nasty baby;
There it goes over:
Thy mammy's a gaby,
Thy daddy's a rover.
Re-enter Judy.
Judy. Where is the child?
Punch. Gone—gone to sleep.[12]
Judy. What have you done with the child, I say?
Punch. Gone to sleep, I say.
Judy. What have you done with it?
Punch. What have I done with it?
Judy. Ay; done with it![13] I heard it crying just now. Where is it?
Punch. How should I know?
Judy. I heard you make the pretty darling cry.
Punch. I dropped it out at window.
Judy. Oh you cruel horrid wretch, to drop the pretty baby out at window. Oh! (cries, and wipes her eyes with the corner of her white apron) You barbarous man. Oh!
Punch. You shall have one other soon, Judy, my dear. More where that come from.[14]
Judy. I'll make you pay for this, depend upon it.
Exit in haste.
Punch. There she goes. What a piece of work about nothing![15]
(dances about and sings, beating time with his head, as he turns round, on the front of the stage)
Judy. I'll teach you to drop my child out at window.
Punch. So—o—oftly, Judy, so—o—oftly! (rubbing the back of his head with his hand) Don't be a fool now,[16] What you at?
Judy. What! you'll drop my poor baby out at window again, will you? (hitting him continually on the head)
Punch. No, I never will again, (she still hits him) Softly, I say, softly. A joke's a joke.
Judy. Oh, you nasty cruel brute! (hitting him again) I'll teach yon.
Punch. But me no like such teaching. What! you're in earnest are you?
Judy. Yes, (hit) I (hit) am. (hit)
Punch. I'm glad of it: me no like such jokes.[17] (she hits him again) Leave off, I say. What! you won't, won't you?
Judy. No, I won't, (hits him)
Punch. Very well: then now come my turn to teach you. (he snatches at, and struggles with her for the stick, which he wrenches from her, and strikes her with it on the head, while she runs about to different parts of the stage to get out of his way) How you like my teaching, Judy, my pretty dear? (hitting her)
Judy. O pray, Mr. Punch—no more!
Punch. Yes, one littel more lesson, (hits her again) There, there, there! (she falls down, with her head over the platform of the stage; and as he continues to hit at her, she puts up her hand to guard her head) Any more.
Judy. No, no, no more, (lifting up her head)
Punch. (knocking down her head) I thought I should soon make you quiet.
Judy. (again raising her head) No.
Punch. (again knocking it down, and following up his blows until she is lifeless) Now if you're satisfied, I am. (perceiving that she does not move) There, get up, Judy my dear; I won't hit you any more. None of your sham-Abram.[18] This is only your fun. You got the head-ache? Why, you only asleep. Get up, I say! Well then, get down, (tosses the body down with the end of his stick) He, he, he! (laughing) To lose a wife is to get a fortune.[19] "Who'd be plagued with a wife
That could set himself free
With a rope or a knife,
Or a good stick, like me.[20]
(he throws away the body with his stick)
Enter Pretty Polly.[21]
Punch. (seeing her, and singing out of "The Beggar's Opera"[22] while she dances)
When the heart of a man is oppressed with cares,
The clouds are dispelled when a woman appears, &c.
Punch. (aside) What a beauty! What a pretty creature![23]
(extending his arms, and then clasping his hands in
admiration. She continues to dance, and dances round him, while he surveys her in silent delight. He then begins to sing a slow tune and foots it with her; and, as the music quickens, they jig it backwards and forwards, and sideways, to all parts of the stage. At last, Punch catches the lady in his arms and kisses her most audibly, while she appears "nothing loth." After waltzing, they dance to the tune of "The White Cockade," and Punch sings as follows:)
I love you so, I love you so,
I never will leave you; no, no, no:
If I had all the wives of wise King Sol,
I would kill them all for my pretty Poll.
Exeunt dancing.
Act II.
Enter Punch from behind the curtain, where he had been watching the manœuvres of the Figure.
Punch. Who the devil are you, me should like to know, with your long neck? You may get it stretched for you, one of these days, by somebody else.[25] It's a very fine day. (peeping out, and looking up at the sky) I'll go fetch my horse, and take a ride to visit my pretty Poll, (he sings to the tune of "Sally in our Alley")
Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Polly:
She's the darling of my heart,
She is so plump and jolly.
Exit, singing.
Punch. Wo, ho! my fine fellow, Wo, ho! Hector.[26] Stand still, can't you, and let me get my foot up to the stirrup.
Punch. Oh, dear! Oh, lord! Help! help! I am murdered! I'm a dead man! Will nobody save my life? Doctor! Doctor! Come, and bring me to life again. I'm a dead man. Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!
Enter Doctor.
Doctor. Who calls so loud?[28]
Punch. Oh, dear! Oh, lord! murder!
Doctor. What is the matter? Bless me, who is this? My good friend, Mr. Punch? Have you had an accident, or are you only taking a nap on the grass after dinner?
Punch. Oh, Doctor! Doctor! I have been thrown: I have been killed.
Doctor. No, no, Mr. Punch; not so bad as that, sir: you are not killed.
Punch. Not killed, but speechless.[29] Oh, Doctor! Doctor!
Doctor. Where are you hurt? Is it here? (touching his head)
Punch. No; lower.
Doctor. Here? (touching his breast)
Punch. No; lower, lower.
Doctor. Here, then? (going downwards)
Punch. No; lower still.
Doctor. Then, is your handsome leg broken?
Punch. No; higher.
Doctor. Oh, my eye! my eye! Exit.
Punch. (solus) Aye, you're right enough; it is my eye, and Betty Martin too.[30] (jumping up, and dancing and singing tune, "Malbroug."
The Doctor is surely an ass, sirs,
To think I'm as brittle as glass, sirs;
But I only fell down on the grass, sirs,
And my hurt—it is all my eye.
Punch. Hollo! hollo! Doctor—what game you up to now? Have done! What you got there?
Doctor. Physic, Mr. Punch; (hits him) physic for your hurt.
Punch. Me no like physic; it give me one headache.
Doctor. That's because you do not take enough of it. (hits him again) The more you take, the more good it will do you. (hits him)
Punch. So you doctors always say. Try how you like it yourself.
Doctor. We never take our own physic, if we can help it. (hits him) A little more, Mr. Punch, and you will soon be well.
Punch. Oh, Doctor! Doctor! no more, no more! enough physic for me; I am quite well now.
Doctor. Only another dose. (hits him)
Punch. No more!—turn and turn about is all fair, you know. (Punch makes a desperate effort, closes with the Doctor, and after a struggle, succeeds in getting the stick from him) Now, Doctor, your turn to be physicked. (beating the Doctor[31])
Doctor. Hold, Mr. Punch; I don't want any physic, my good sir.
Punch. Oh, yes, you do; you very bad; you must take it; I the doctor now.[32] (hits him) How do you like physic? (hits) It will do you good, (hits) This will soon cure you: (hits) physic! (hits) physic! (hits) physic! (hits)
Doctor. Oh, pray, Mr. Punch, no more! one pill of that physic is a dose.
Punch. Doctors always die when they take their own physic, (hits him) Another small dose, and you never want physic again, (hits him) There, don't you feel the physic in your inside? (Punch thrusts the end of the stick into the Doctor's stomach; the Doctor falls down dead, and Punch, as before, tosses away the body with the end of his staff) He, he, he! (laughing) Now, Doctor, you may cure
yourself, if you can. (sings and dances to the tune of "Green grow the rushes, O.")
Right toll de riddle doll,
There's an end of him, by goll![33]
I'll dance and sing
Like any thing,
With music for my pretty Poll.Exit.
Mr. Punch is a very gay man,
He is the fellow the ladies for winning, oh;
Let them do whatever they can,
They never can stand his talking and grinning, oh.
Enter a Servant, in a foreign livery.
Servant. Mr. Punch, my master, he say he no like dat noise.
Punch. (with surprise and mocking him) Your master, he say he no like dat noise! What noise?
Servant. Dat nasty noise.
Punch. Do you call music a noise.[34] Servant. My master he no lika de music, Mr. Punch, so he'll have no more noise near his house.[35]
Punch. He don't, don't he? Very well. Punch runs about the stage ringing his bell as loudly as he can)
Servant. Get away, I say wid dat nasty bell.
Punch. What bell?
Servant. That bell, (striking it with his hand)
Punch. That's a good one. Do you call this a bell? (patting it) It is an organ.
Servant. I say it is a bell, a nasty bell.
Punch. I say it is an organ, (striking him with it) What you say it is now?
Servant. An organ, Mr. Punch.
Punch. An organ? I say it is a fiddle. Can't you see? (offers to strike him again)
Servant. It is a fiddle.
Punch. I say it is a drum.
Servant. It is a drum, Mr. Punch.
Punch. I say it is a trumpet.
Servant. Well, so it is a trumpet. But bell, organ, fiddle, drum, or trumpet, my master, he say he no lika de music.
Punch. Then bell, organ, fiddle, drum, or trumpet, Mr. Punch he say your master is a fool.
Servant. And he say too, he will not have it near his house.
Punch. He's a fool, I say, not to like my sweet music. Tell him so: be off. (hits him with the bell) Get along. (driving the Servant round the stage, backwards, and
striking him often with the bell) Be off, be off. (knocking him off the stage. Exit Servant. Punch continues to ring the bell as loudly as before, while he sings and dances)
Re-enter Servant, slily, with a stick.
Servant. You one nasty, noisy, impudent blackguard, Me catch you yet. (hides again as before)
Servant. You dirty scoundrel, rascal, thief, vagabond, blackguard, and liar, you shall pay for this, depend upon it.
Servant. Me teach you how to ring your nasty noisy bell near de gentil-mens houses.
Punch. (recovering) Two can play at that, (hits the Servant with his stick. A conflict:—after a long struggle, during which the combatants exchange staves, and perform various manœuvres, Punch gains the victory, and knocks his antagonist down on the platform, by repeated blows on the head)
Servant. Oh, dear! Oh, my head!
Punch. And oh, your tail, too. (hitting him there) How do you like that, and that, and that? (hitting him each time) Do you like that music better than the other?— This is my bell, (hits) this my organ, (hits) this my fiddle, (hits) this my drum, (hits) and this my trumpet, (hits) there! a whole concert for you.
Servant. No more! me dead.
Punch. Quite dead.
Servant. Yes, quite.
Punch. Then there's the last for luck, (hits him and kills him. He then takes hold of the body by its legs, swings it round two or three times, and throws it away)
Act III.
Enter an Old Blind Man, feeling his way with a staff; he goes to the opposite side when he knocks.
Blind Man. Poor blind man, Mr. Punch; I hope you'll bestow your charity; I hear that you are very good and kind to the poor, Mr. Punch; pray have pity upon me, and may you never know the loss of your tender eyes! (listens, putting his ear to the side, and hearing nobody coming, knocks again) I lost my sight by the sands in Egypt;[36] poor blind man. Pray, Mr. Punch, have compassion upon the poor stone blind, (coughs, and spits over the side) Only a halfpenny to buy something for my bad cough. Only one halfpenny, (knocks again)
Enter Punch, and receives one of the knocks, intended for the door, upon his head.
Punch. Hollo! you old blind blackguard, can't you see?
Blind Man. No, Mr. Punch. Pray, sir, bestow your charity upon a poor blind man, with a bad cough, (coughs)
Punch. Get along, get along; don't trouble me:—nothing for you.
Blind Man. Only a halfpenny! Oh, dear! my cough is so bad! (coughs and spits in Punch's face)
Punch. Hollo! Was my face the dirtiest place you could find to spit in?[37] Get away! you nasty old blackgard! Get away! (seizes the Blind man's staff, and knocks him off the stage.—Punch hums a tune, and dances to it; and then begins to sing, in the mock Italian style, the following words, pretending to play the fiddle on his arm, with the stick)
When I think on you, my jewel,[38]
Wonder not my heart is sad;
You're so fair, and yet so cruel,
You're enough to drive me mad.
On thy lover take some pity:
And relieve his bitter smart.
Think you Heaven has made you pretty,
But to break your lover's heart?
Enter a Constable.
Constable. Leave off your singing, Mr. Punch, for I'm come to make you sing on the wrong side of your mouth.
Punch. Why, who the devil are you?
Constable. Don't you know me?
Punch. No, and don't want to know you.
Constable. Oh, but you must: I am the constable.
Punch. And who sent for you?
Constable. I am sent for you.
Punch. I don't want constable. I can settle my own business without constable, I thank you. I don't want constable.
Constable. But the constable wants you.
Punch. The Devil he does! What for, pray?
Constable. You killed Mr. Scaramouch. You knocked his head off his shoulders.
Punch. What's that to you? If you stay here much longer, I'll serve you the same.
Constable. Don't tell me. You have committed murder, and I've a warrant for you.
Punch. And I've a warrant for you. (Punch knocks him down, and dances and sings about the stage, to the tune of "Green grow the Rushes O.")
Enter an Officer, in a cocked hat with a cockade, and a long pigtail.[39]
Officer. Stop your noise, my fine fellow
Punch. Shan't.
Officer. I'm an officer.
Punch. Very well. Did I say you were not?
Officer. You must go with me. You killed your wife and child.
Punch. They were my own, I suppose; and I had a right to do what I liked with them.
Officer. We shall see that, I'm come to take you up.
Punch. And I'm come to take you down. (Punch knocks him down, and sings and dances as before]
Enter Jack Ketch, in a fur-cap. Punch, while dancing, runs up against him without seeing him.
Punch. (with some symptoms of alarm) My dear Sir,—I beg you one thousand pardons: very sorry.
J. Ketch. Aye, you'll be sorry enough before I've done with you. Don't you know me?
Punch. Oh, sir, I know you very well, and I hope you very well, and Mrs. Ketch very well.
J. Ketch. Mr. Punch, you're a very bad man. Why did you kill the Doctor?
Punch. In self defence.
J. Ketch. That won't do.
Punch. He wanted to kill me.
J. Ketch. How?
Punch. With his dd physic.
J. Ketch. That's all gammon. You must come to prison: my name's Ketch.
Punch. Ketch that then. (Punch knocks down Jack Ketch, and continues to dance and sing[40])
Scene II.
Punch. Oh dear! Oh dear! what will become of poor pill-garlick now. My pretty Poll, when shall I see you again? (sings to the air of "Water parted from the Sea")
Punch, when parted from his dear,
Still must sing in doleful tune.
I wish I had those rascals here,
I'd settle all their hashes soon!
Enter Jack Ketch. He fixes a gibbet on the platform of the stage, and exit.
Punch. Well, I declare now, that very pretty! That must be a gardener. What a handsome three he has planted just opposite the window, for a prospect![41]
Enter the Constable. He places a ladder against the gibbet, and exit.
Punch. Stop thief! stop thief! There's one pretty rascal for you. He come back again and get up the ladder to steal the fruit out of the tree.
Enter two Men with a coffin. They set it down on the platform, and exeunt.
Punch. What that for, I wonder? Oh dear, I see now: what one fool I was! That is large basket for the fruit be put into.
Re-enter Jack Ketch.
J. Ketch. Now, Mr. Punch, you may come out, if you like it.
Punch. Thank you, kindly; but me very well where I am. This very nice place, and pretty prospect.
J. Ketch. What, won't you come out, and have a good dinner for nothing?
Punch. Much obliged, Mr. Ketch, but I have had my dinner for nothing already.[42]
J. Ketch. Then a good supper?
Punch. I never eat suppers: they are not wholesome.
J. Ketch. But you must come out. Come out, and be hanged.[43]
Punch. You would not be so cruel.
J. Ketch. Why were you so cruel as to commit so many murders?
Punch. But that's no reason why you should be cruel, too, and murder me.[44]
J. Ketch. Come, directly.
Punch. I can't; I got one bone in my leg.
J. Ketch. And you've got one bone in your neck, but that shall be soon broken. Then I must fetch you. (he goes to the prison, and after a struggle, in which Punch calls out, "Mercy! mercy! I'll never do so again!"
Jack Ketch brings him out to the front of the stage)
Punch. Oh dear! Oh dear! Be quiet—can't you let me be?
J. Ketch. Now, Mr. Punch, no more delay. Put your head through this loop.
Punch. through there! What for?
J. Ketch. Aye, through there.
Punch. What for?—I don't know how.
J. Ketch. It is very easy: only put your head through here.
Punch. What, so? (poking his head on one side of the noose)
J. Ketch. No, no, here!
Punch. So, then? (poking his head on the other side)
J. Ketch. Not so, you fool.
Punch. Mind who you call fool: try if you can do it yourself. Only shew me how, and I do it directly.
J. Ketch. Very well; I will. There, you see my head, and you see this loop: put it in, so. (putting his head through the noose)
Punch. And pull it tight, so! (he pulls the body forcibly down, and hangs Jack Ketch) Huzza! Huzza! (Punch takes down the corpse, and places it in the coffin: he then stands back)
Punch. There they go. They think they have got Mr. Punch safe enough, (sings)
They're out! they're out! I've done the trick!
Jack Ketch is dead—I'm free;
I do not care, now, if Old Nick
Himself should come for me.
Right foll de riddle loll,
I'm the boy to do 'em all,
Here's a stick
To thump Old Nick,
If he by chance upon me call.
Enter the Devil. He just peeps in at the corner of the stage, and exit.
Punch. (much frightened, and retreating as far as he
can) Oh, dear! Oh, lord! Talk of the devil, and he pops up his horns. There the old gentleman is, sure enough. (a pause and dead silence, while Punch continues to gaze at the spot where the Devil appeared. The Devil comes forward) Good, kind Mr. Devil, I never did you any harm, but all the good in my power.—There, don't come any nearer. How you do, Sir? (collecting courage) I hope you and all your respectable family well? Much obliged for this visit—Good morning—should be sorry to keep you, for I know you have a great deal of business when you come to London, (the Devil advances) Oh, dear! What will become of me? (the Devil darts at Punch, who escapes, and aims a blow at his enemy: the Devil eludes it, as well as many others, laying his head on the platform, and slipping it rapidly backwards and forwards, so that Punch, instead of striking him, only repeatedly hits the boards) Exit Devil.
Punch. He, he, he! (laughing) He's off: he knew which side his bread buttered on. He one deep, cunning devil. (Punch is alarmed by hearing a strange supernatural whirring noise, something like the rapid motion of fifty spinning wheels, and again retreats to the corner, fearfully waiting the event)
Punch. Oh, my head! What is that for? Pray, Mr. Devil, let us be friends, (the Devil hits him again, and Punch begins to take it in dudgeon, and to grow angry) Why, you must be one very stupid Devil not to know your best friend when you see him. (the Devil hits him again) Be quiet, I say, you hurt me!—Well if you won't, we must try which is the best man,—Punch or the Devil.
Devil seems to grow weary, and Punch succeeds in planting several heavy blows. The balance being restored, the fight is kept up for some time, and towards the conclusion Punch has the decided advantage, and drives his enemy before him. The Devil is stunned by repeated blows on the head and horns, and falls forward on the platform, where Punch completes his victory, and knocks the breath out of his body. Punch then puts his staff up the Devil's black clothes, and whirls him round in the air, exclaiming, "Huzza! huzza! the Devil's dead!")
Curtain.
LONDON · PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAFFORD STREET.
- ↑ The ancient motions, or puppet-shows, had prologues, as appears, among other authorities, from Jasper Mayne's "City Match," Act 5. Sc. 2.
"like a buskin'd prologue, in
A stately, high, majestic motion bare."Powell also, as we have already seen, (vide Chap. 3) attacked Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., in a prologue. Puppet-show men, now-a-days, seem to have adopted Cumberland's opinion, in his "Observer," that prologues and epilogues are useless appendages.
- ↑ This air and the Marseilles March, afterwards spoken of, were doubtless first introduced, as substitutes for others which had become less acceptable. Very recently the tune of Malbroug has again come into vogue with the lower orders.
- ↑ Scarlet and yellow are still proverbially called "Tom Fool's colours," which may form another slight link of connection between Punch and the clown of our old comedies, and the court jesters of our ancestors.
- ↑ The Italian character in the impromptu comedies, called Scaramouch, was known in England, and considerably before Pulcinello made his appearance. He gives the title to Ravencroft's comedy, and in D'Urfey's "Madam Fickle," licensed in 1676, Toby, the son of Mr. Tilbury, is made to employ it as a fashionable term of abuse, "Scaramouchi, Rascal, Poltron, Popinjay!—Son of twenty fathers!" &c. Act 2. Soon after the year 1720, Punch became a common character in afterpieces. In the "Weekly Journal" of Dec. 14, 1723, the plot of "Harlequin and Dr. Faustus" is given, in which it appears that Punch performed the part of one of the Doctor's Scholars. Duplessis was a celebrated Punch, and performed for Chetwood's benefit, in 1726.
- ↑ In reference to this sound, Shakspeare tells us that "R is the dog's letter. "Romeo and Juliet." Act 2. Scene 5.
- ↑ Punch's nose, which he here calls "little," ironically, according to the authority of one of our old play-wrights, would lead us to conclude him rather of Florentine than of Neapolitan origin.—Lodowick Barry, in his laughable comedy of manners, called "Ram Alley," printed in 1611, and reprinted in the last edition of "Dodsley's Old Plays," vol. 5. has a curious and humorous passage on the diversity of noses, a part of which only is here applicable, but we shall be pardoned for quoting the whole.
"I'll tell thee what,
A witty woman may with ease distinguish
All men by their noses, as thus: your nose
Tuscan is lovely, large, and broad,
Much like a goose; your valiant generous nose,
A crooked, smooth, and a great puffing nose.
Your scholar's nose is very fresh and raw,
For want of fire in winter, and quickly smells
His chops of mutton in his dish of porage.
Your puritan nose is very sharp and long,
And much like your widow's, and with ease can smell
An edifying capon five streets off."This dissertation is worthy of Slaukenbergius. The nose of our hero is "lovely, large and broad," like "your nose Tuscan," and it is at the same time a
" valiant generous nose,
A crooked, smooth, and a great puffing nose." - ↑ This is a regular "Joe, page 47." Every body must remember Mr. Miller's story of the countryman, who was asked if he could play upon the violin, and who answered that he "did not know, because, as how, he had never tried." There may, however, be some corresponding joke in Italian. We have read it in French.
- ↑
How sour sweet music is, when time is broke."
"Richard II." Act 5, Sc. 5.
Substitute head for time, and the line would be very applicable. Had Punch meant any allusion to it, he would have made the quotation and the change.
- ↑ The MS. to which we are very much indebted for the musical department of our drama, supplies another stanza to the tune of "Malbroug," which we have excluded from the text, as it contains already two specimens of the kind, and the simile regarding her voice is used afterwards. It is, however, worth adding in a note. Punch sings it after he has received the slap on the face, and while Judy is gone for the child:
My wife is a beautiful darling,
And though her tongue goes like a starling,
We seldom have fighting or snarling.
Her voice is delightful to hear!
But take care you don't get too near;
Sometimes her behaviour is queer:
With her hands she has always been handy.
I must doctor my face with some brandy,
And sweetened with white sugar-candy,
I'll take it inside, never fear. - ↑ Evidently an interpolation since "Guy Mannering" was brought upon the stage. For what song this parody was substituted, cannot now be ascertained.
- ↑ The admirers of "the antiquities of nursery literature," (to use the words of the "Quarterly Review," which wisely devoted some sheets to the subject,) may like to see a different version of this "delicate and simple ditty," which we have on the highest authority. It runs thus:
"Dancy, baby, dancy,
How it shall gallop and prancy!
Sit on my knee;
Now kissy me:
Dancy, baby, dancy." - ↑ Punch equivocates between death itself and the "ape of death."
"After life's fitful fever it sleeps well."
"Macbeth," Act 3, Scene 2. - ↑ Judy might say with the Moor—
Done with it? "By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shewn."—"Othello," Act 3, Scene 3. - ↑ This may remind the reader of an anecdote in Machiavelli's "Discorsi" (Lib. 3, cap. 6, Delle Congiurie), where Caterina the wife of Girolamo Riorio, Count of Forli, in a very extraordinary manner, defied her enemies, and shewed how little she valued the lives of her sons. Mr. Roscoe ("Life of Lorenzo de Medici," 2, 164, edition 1825), does not seem to be aware that the story is to be found in Machiavelli, and he quotes Muratori's "Annals," 9, 556, for his authority. Muratori treats the point with great decorum;—"Rispose loro quella forte femmina che se avessero fatti perir que' figliuoli, restavano a lei le forme per farne de gli altri."
- ↑
"This nothing's more than matter," and yet Punch was right in the sense in which Shakespeare speaks in "Coriolanus;"—
"It was a thing of nothing—titleless,"
for the infant has no name, and it is uncertain whether it ever was christened. We have heard it invariably spoken of as "the child;" and even its sex is doubtful, unless we take the word of Thomson,—"Heroes are sires of boys,"—and then we shall, of course, conclude that Punch's offspring was a man-child.
- ↑ This was the great Grimaldi's celebrated exclamation in "Mother Goose" and elsewhere, and from him it seems borrowed: we call him "the great Grimaldi" to distinguish him from his great grandfather, grandfather, father, and son, for they have been a succession of clowns for five generations. The most remarkable of "Joey's" predecessors was called "Jambes de fer," from the strength and spring of his limbs: he was the grandfather and a great favorite with the ladies—"ferrum est quod amant:" he once broke a chandelier by lofty vaulting, and with a piece of the glass almost knocked out the eye of the Turkish Ambassador, who made it a formal complaint to the French Court. "Joey's" son promised much, and cannot be said to have performed little; for all the winter he was at Covent-Garden, and all the summer at Sadler's Wells; however, he never reached a point of comparison with his father;
"Compared with whom all other clowns were fools."
- ↑ This is a jest in almost every language, but it is particularly common in Italy. It is inserted in Domenichi's Collection of "Motti Burle e Facetie:" Venice, 1565. It is of a piece with the story relating to General , whom T. H. kicked in a ball-room. "What do you mean by that, sir?" (cried the General,) "Am I to take that as a personal affront?"—"To be sure you are," replied T. H.—"I am glad of it, (returned the General,) I like people to speak intelligibly—it saves the trouble of farther explanation." Accordingly, T. H. heard no more from the officer; who afterwards got so often affronted, and received patiently so many insults, that he acquired the nick-name of "the receiver General."
- ↑ This is a very old English word; not, however, inserted and explained by the Rev. H. J. Todd. Sham is said to be derived from the Welch, and Abram is from what were formerly called "Abram," or Abraham men," who pretended to be poor and sick, and therefore objects of charity. (See "Dodsley's Old Plays," new edition, vol. 2, page 4, note 2.) To sham-Abram is a term in daily use:
"Sham-Abram you may
In any fair way,
But you must not sham Abraham Newland."
"T. Dibdin's Song."
Bank-notes were formerly signed "Abraham Newland."
- ↑ The English proverb is, "he that loses his wife and sixpence, loses a tester." It is put into the mouth of Sancho, in Act 2 of Durfey's "Don Quixote," Part 1.
- ↑ Evidently from Juvenal, Sat. 6.
"Ferre potes dominam salvis tot restibus ullam?
Cum pateant altæ caligantesque fenestræ,
Cum tibi vicinum se prœbeat Æmilius pons?Here it seems doubtful whether the poet means to recommend the hen-pecked husband himself to use the halter, leap out of the window, &c. or that he should hang his wife, or give her the benefit of the air. Punch's actions supply a commentary on his words, if any were wanting.
- ↑ Sometimes called Nancy, and hence the old saying,—
"For fun and fancy,
As Punch kissed Nancy." - ↑ This song was probably first introduced into a puppet-show, at the time when Gay's work was so extravagantly popular; but not more popular than it deserved to be.
- ↑ In this copy of "Punch and Judy," Pretty Polly is merely a mute, which perhaps might recommend her to our hero, in contrast with his late spouse. In a few of the representations she speaks; and one which was popular in 1795 and 1796, contained the following scene. We ought to premise, that in that show, Polly was supposed to be the daughter of a gentleman whom Punch had just slain, in a quarrel regarding his performances on the sheep-bell.
Enter Polly very gaily dressed.
Polly. Where is my father? my dear father! Punch. (aside) What a beauty!
Polly. Who killed my poor father? Oh! Oh! (cries)
Punch. 'Twas I.
Polly. Oh! Cruel wretch, why did you kill my father?
Punch. For your sake, my love.
Polly. Oh, you barbarian!
Punch. Don't cry so, my dear. You will cry your pretty eyes out, and that would be a pity.
Polly. Oh, oh! How could you kill him?
Punch. He would not let me have you, and so I killed him. If you take on so, I must cry too—Oh, oh! (pretending to weep) How sorry I am!
Polly. And are you really sorry?
Punch. Yes, very sorry look how I cry.
Polly. (aside) What a handsome young man. It is a pity he should cry so.—How the tears run down his beautiful long nose!—Did you kill my father out of love of me, and are you sorry? If you are sorry, I must forgive you.
Punch. I could kill myself for love of you, much more your father.
Polly. Do you then really love me?
Punch. I do! I do!
Polly. Then I most love you!"
Then they embrace, kiss, and dance. The whole scene, barring the dancing, seems modelled upon the interview between Richard III. and Lady Anne. It is copied from the MS. we have before mentioned.
- ↑ This scene is peculiar to Piccini, and he defies all the other exhibitors of Puppet-shows in England to make the figure take off the hat with one hand. This is the true reason for its introduction; and it is not easy to see in what way it relates to Mr. Punch and his adventures, unless, as he is now in the midst of his career of vice and crime, the stretching of the neck is to be taken as an awful forewarning of the danger of the same kind the hero is likely to incur under the hands of Jack Ketch.
"You have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck."is a passage in "Othello."—If it be meant that Punch should lay his murders on the neck of this mysterious personage, it is clear that there is room enough for all of them.
- ↑ "I pr'ythee keep that for the hangman."—"Henry IV. Part I." And Punch might add, as the forewarner appears to be a courtier, "I know thou worship'st as St. Nicholas truly as a man of falsehood may."
- ↑ The horses of the ancient heroes of romance, especially in Italy, (the birth-place of our hero,) had all their names, sometimes descriptive of their qualifications, or of peculiar marks, or ornaments: that of Orlando, as everybody knows, was Baiardo; that of Aglante, Rabicano, and that of the Cid, Babieca, &c. For this reason, too, Don Quixote gives his steed the style and title of Rozinante, "as it was not fit that so famous a knight's horse, and chiefly being so good a beast, should want a known name."—"Shelton's Don Quixotte," Edition 1652, fol. 2.
- ↑ Punch is no great horseman, but it is to be remembered that he was not a gentleman born or bred; and, as Spenser says,
"But chiefly skill to ride seems a science
Proper to gentle blood."Sir Philip Sidney opens his "Defence of Poesie" with an account of his industry at the Emperor's court in acquiring perfection in this art, which old Ascham, in his "Schoolmaster," praises very extravagantly, quoting the "three excellent praises amongst those noble gentlemen, the old Persians—always to speak truth, to ride fair, and shoot well."
- ↑ So the Apothecary, in "Romeo and Juliet," of whom we say, as Dante does of the she-wolf—
"Che di tutte brame
Sembiava carca nella sua magrezza."enters at the exclamation of the hero, with "Who calls so loud?" Punch's Doctor is quite "another guess sort of a gentleman," to use a phrase of Farquhar's, "fat with full fees and no physic."
- ↑ A good deal has been written on the etymology and meaning of what is called an Irish bull, of which we have here a specimen; some have supposed it to be derived from a ridicule of the Pope's bulls, &c., &c.; but its origin is very simple: a bull is a blunder; and only let the reader pronounce the two first letters of the word blunder, and he immediately has the true etymology—blunder, or per ellipsin bl. Milton correctly defines a bull, when he says it "takes away the essence of that which it calls itself." (Smectymn. Apology.) but rather before the time when he flourished it seems to have been almost synonymous, with a jest. Thus in Shirley's "Gamester," 1637 Act 3, Hazard says to Wilding,
Wilding. His bulls you mean.
"He will talk desperately
And swear he is the father of all the bulls
Since Adam: if all fail, he has a project
To print his jests.Hazard. You're right,
And dedicate 'em to the gamesters,"&c.
- ↑ This joke is much more proper, in some respects, in Catholic Italy, than in Protestant England, where we have left off praying to Saints. The saying is, however, as is well known, derived from times prior to the Reformation, when Mihi, beate Martine was the commencement of an address to St. Martin: the use of it, as an expression of ridicule, implying incredulity, must, of course, have been posterior to that event, when disbelief in the efficacy of such addresses became general.
- ↑
We cannot call Punch lethargicus, but, at all events
"fit pugil et medicum urget."As one of our old translators has it,
"He knocks down the quack
On the flat of his back." - ↑
"He will be the physician that should be the patient."
"Troilus and Cressida," Act 2. - ↑ A very respectable ancient English oath. Goll, in our old writers, and in the vulgar tongue, is the same as hand; so that to swear "goll," is nothing more than to swear by one's hand. "By goles," or "golls," is still used in the country. Thus, in S. Rowley's "Noble Soldier," 1634, Act 3. Baltazar says to Onelia, (a lady of Spanish and not of Irish extraction, as might be supposed by her name,) "Say'st thou me so? Give me thy goll, thou art a noble girl," &c. We leave it to future sagacious commentators on this play, to shew that "learning is somewhere vain," and to multiply quotations on a point never disputed.
- ↑ Our less refined ancestors used to do so. "A noise of fiddlers," "a noise of flutes," &c., are common expressions in old plays of the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. Punch's ear for music resembles that of Nick Bottom. "I have a reasonable good ear for music: let us have the tongs and the bones."
- ↑ Part of a now unacted scene in "Othello," very much resembles this. The Clown enters, and complains of certain serenaders hired by Cassio, and tells them, "the General so likes your music, that he desires you of all loves to make no more noise with it. 1st Musician. Well, sir, we will not. Clown. If you have any music that may not be heard, to't again: but as they say, to hear music, the General does not greatly care. 1st Musician. We have none such, sir. Clown. Then put your pipes in your bag and hie away. Go—vanish into air! Away!"
- ↑ Of cause, this explanation of the cause of blindness was inserted after Sir Ralph Abercrombie's expedition to Egypt, when many beggars were seen about the streets asking alms on the same score. Before that date, some other popular cause was, no doubt, assigned.
- ↑ This joke is of Italian origin. Bandello (Part 3, Novel 42) makes the Spanish Ambassador spit in the face of one of the servants of the famous Roman courtezan Imperia, whose house was most splendidly furnished. It is, however, older than Bandello's time; and it is also found in the Italian jest book, before quoted, collected by Domenichi in 1565.
- ↑ A real Italian air and song, introduced by Piccini, of which this is a translation: the first words of the original are—
"Quando pens' io à la mia bella."
- ↑ The ordinary performers of puppet-shows do not seem clearly to understand the distinction between an officer of the army and an officer of the police.
- ↑ After the defeat of Jack Ketch, we have sometimes seen, with a total disregard of his rank and office, the Chief Justice of England introduced, for the purpose of making the caption of Punch. The dialogue between the two was equally infra dignitatem, at least on the part of the first Judge of the land.
Chief Justice. Hollo! Punch, my boy!
Punch. Hollo! who are you with your head like a cauliflower?
Chief Justice. Don't you know me? I'm the Lord Chief Justice.
Punch. I don't care if you're the Lord Chancellor. You shan't get me into Chancery, that's all.
Chief Justice. But I shall get you into prison. You're a murderer! you've killed I don't know how many people.
Punch. If you don't know, you had better go and learn.
Chief Justice. That won't do, my fine fellow. You're a murderer, and you must come and be hanged.
Punch. I'll be hanged if I do. (knocks down the Chief Justice, and dances and sings)
- ↑ Of course Punch does not think what he says, but he only "plays with his fate;" as Racine remarks in "Athalie," (Act 2)
"Les malheurs n'avoient pas abattu sa fierté,"
although in the commencement of this scene the recollection of his mistress had a little "rebated the edge of his hilarity."
- ↑ Among the "Rime burlesche di varj Autori," originally collected by Grazzini, is a very humorous Capitolo, in praise of debt, (attributed by some to Berni, and by the editor of Tassoni's "Secchia Rapita," Venice, 1747, to Orazio Toscanella,) with some lines quite in the spirit in which our hero speaks in the text.
"Non so più bello star, ch'entro d'un muro, &c.
A prison, truly, is a charming place,
Where all the livelong day we may be idle;
A blest retreat where mind has double space,
Because our bodies we are forc'd to bridle:
Where all that we require is given, not bought,
I mean all good things, and are but denied ill.
When to this happy rest we once are brought,
It verifies the words of Aristotle—
Gross sense decays, and we have time for thought. - ↑ A direct plagiarism from Shakspeare: "Master Barnardine, you must rise and be hanged." Measure for Measure.
- ↑ An instance how Punch's self-possession never forsakes him. In a single sentence he confutes all who contend that man by law should have power over the life of his fellow man.