The GREEN-ROOM SCUFFLE: Or Drury-Lane in an UPROAR.
To the Tune of Gossip Joan.
Ye Peers, ye Cits, and Beaux,
Who haunt Pit, Box and Gall’ry,
Your Persons to expose,
And shew your Wit and Raill’ry Little Boys!
Ye Lads, that Soldiers are;
Ye gen’rous keeping Cullies;
Who, with lank Face and Shape
At home set up for Bullies, From Quib’ron:
Mourn, mourn your late Disgrace,
That shut ye from behind, Sirs!
For there we know’s a place,
Where you much Sport may find, Sirs, The Green-Room.
ROXANA, on the Stage,
Wou’d but appear a Baby,
Shou’d she with KATE engage;
Yet she’s Nought to a Lady Called PEGGY.
Of late these Nymphs fell out,
And had a dismal Scuffle;
D—g l—s, who loves a Rout,
Ne’er met with such a Ruffle From the D—
KATE, who was long ill-us’d
Depended on her Merit,
But PEG, by all abus’d,
Said, She had only Spirit, Pretty Girl!
None knew from whence it rose,
But ‘twas about their Duty:
To rise by Wit one chose,
And t’other by her Beauty Both are Vain!
Who can describe the Airs,
The Green-Room Girls befitting,
The Pride and pleasing Leers
When they’re the other twitting? Artful Nymphs!
Hear the loud Storm ascend!
Oh! cruel to your Hearing!
Their diff’rent Voices blend,
And HOTSPUR interfering, Poor B—rr—y!
PEG, in a Taste polite,
At once began the Battle:
Says she, “You may be right;
“But this is Tittle-Tattle, Red-Fac’d B—ch!”
Now bristles bonny Kate;
All ready, fierce and fiery,
“Such BRIMS (cries she) I hate –
“Cou’d DAVEY e’er admire Ye? — PROSTITUTE!
My Beauty me defends,
Cries lovely pretty PEGGY;
Whilst you abuse your Friends;
And so – no more – I beg you – HELL’S DUCHESS!
Up starts a grey-hair’d Sage –
Says Kate – “’tis most provoking!
“Why should you rule the STAGE?
Mind Building, Pimping, Joaking, OLD STAGE-GOAT!
From this, sad Work ensued:
Old LIMPO got a Slap, Sir:
Which he return’d; quite rude!
And fell’d an harmless Chap, Sir, Sad JEMMEE!
“My Child shant be abus’d,”
Says limping am’rous S—y;
“Though POLLY me refus’d –
Shou’d you, — The Devil’s in ye, Saucy Peg!
Oh L—cy! then beware
How you such Belles do trust to;
For, tho’ they speak you fair,
They treat you as a BUSTO, PLAYERS ALL!
The New Female Spectator has increased our household with the addition of a 5-month-old girl kitten. The poor little mite is as yet unnamed.
A very great deal of eighteenth century representations of cats and kittens feature small girls and young women, typically playing dress-up or cuddling the puss. This print of 1804 shows a ‘novelist’, a reader of novels, with a cat on her shoulder. She seems to be in an imaginative transport; the little cat toys with her necklace. The pet is seen as a female accoutrement along the same lines as the romantic literature, soft and trifling. Nevertheless the scene is gently pleasing and companionate.