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REJECTED ADDRESSES: THE STRANGER, BY MOMUS MEDLAR by JAMES SMITH (1775-1839)

First Line: WHO HAS E'ER BEEN AT DRURY MUST NEEDS KNOW
Last Line: AND HIGH DIDDLE HO DIDDLE, POP TWEEDLE DEE.
Subject(s): THEATER & THEATERS;

WHO has e'er been at Drury must needs know the Stranger,
A wailing old Methodist, gloomy and wan,
A husband suspicious -- his wife acted Ranger,
She took to her heels, and left poor Hypocon.
Her martial gallant swore that truth was a libel,
That marriage was thraldom, elopement no sin;
Quoth she, I remember the words of my Bible --
My spouse is a Stranger, and I'll take him in.
With my sentimentalibus lachrymae roar'em,
And pathos and bathos delightful to see;
And chop and change ribs, a-la-mode Germanorum,
And high diddle ho diddle, pop tweedle dee.

To keep up her dignity no longer rich enough,
Where was her plate? -- why, 'twas laid on the shelf;
Her land fuller's earth, and her great riches kitchen-stuff --
Dressing the dinner instead of herself.
No longer permitted in diamonds to sparkle,
Now plain Mrs. Haller, of servants the dread,
With a heart full of grief, and a pan full of charcoal,
She lighted the company up to their bed.

Incensed at her flight, her poor Hubby in dudgeon
Roam'd after his rib in a gig and a pout,
Till, tired with his journey the peevish curmudgeon
Sat down and blubber'd just like a church-spout.
One day on a bench as dejected and sad he laid,
Hearing a squash, he cried, Damn it, what's that?
'Twas a child of the count's, in whose service lived Adelaide,
Soused in the river, and squall'd like a cat.

Having drawn his young excellence up to the bank, it
Appear'd that himself was all dripping, I swear;
No wonder he soon became dry as a blanket,
Exposed as he was to the count's @3son@1 and @3heir,@1
Dear sir, quoth the count, in reward of your valour,
To shew that my gratitude is not mere talk,
You shall eat a beefsteak with my cook, Mrs. Haller,
Cut from the rump with her own knife and fork.

Behold, now the count gave the Stranger a dinner,
With gunpowder-tea, which you know brings a ball,
And, thin as he was, that he might not grow thinner,
He made of the Stranger no stranger at all.
At dinner fair Adelaide brought up a chicken --
A bird that she never had met with before;
But, seeing him, scream'd, and was carried off kicking,
And he bang'd his nob 'gainst the opposite door.

To finish my tale without roundaboutation,
Young master and missee besieged their papa;
They sung a quartetto in grand blubberation --
The Stranger cried Oh! Mrs. Haller cried Ah!
Though pathos and sentiment largely are dealt in,
I have no good moral to give in exchange;
For though she, as a cook, might be given to melting,
The Stranger's behaviour was certainly strange,
With this sentimentalibus lachrymae roar'em,
And pathos and bathos delightful to see,
And chop and change ribs, a-la-mode Germanorum,
And high diddle ho diddle, pop tweedle dee.



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