_Islington, March 25, 1827._
Vol. I.--17.
[Illustration: ~London Cries.~]
“Buy a fine singing-bird!”
The _criers_ of singing birds are extinct: we have only the
bird-_sellers_. This engraving, therefore, represents a by-gone
character: it is from a series of etchings called the “Cries of London,”
by Marcellus Lauron, a native of the Hague, where he was born in 1653.
He came to England with his father, by whom he was instructed in
painting. He drew correctly, studied nature diligently, copied it
closely, and so surpassed his contemporaries in drapery, that sir
Godfrey Kneller employed him to clothe his portraits. He likewise
excelled in imitating the different styles of eminent masters, executed
conversation pieces of considerable merit, and died at London in 1705.
His “London Cries” render his name familiar, on account of the
popularity which these performances still possess, and there being among
them likenesses of several “remarkable people” of the times. “Lauron’s
Cries” are well known to collectors, with whom the portrait of a pedlar,
if a “_mentioned_ print,” is quite as covetable as a peer’s.
Mr. Fenn of East Dereham, Norfolk, writing to the Rev. Mr. Granger, who
was the Linnæus of “engraved British portraits,” sends him a _private_
etching or two of a “Mr. Orde’s doing,” and says, “He is a fellow of
King’s College, Cambridge, and is exceedingly lucky in taking off any
peculiarity of person. Mr. Orde is a gentleman of family and fortune,
and in these etchings makes his genius a conveyance of his charity, as
he gives the profits arising from the local sale of the impressions in
the University, to the originals from whom he draws his
likenesses.--Randal, the orangeman, got enough by the sale of himself to
equip himself from head to food: he always calls his oranges, &c. by
some name corresponding to the time he sells them; as, at the
commencement, _Commencement_ oranges; at a musical entertainment,
_Oratorio_ oranges. By this humour he is known throughout the
University, where he is generally called _Dr._ Randal. His likeness,
manner, and gait, are exactly taken off.--The Clare-hall fruit-woman
too is very striking, as indeed are all the etchings.”[131]
Mr. Malcolm tells of a negro-man abroad, who cried “_balloon_ lemons,
quality oranges, quality lemons, holiday limes, with a certain
peculiarity, and whimsicality, that recommended him to a great deal of
custom. He adventured in a lottery, obtained a prize of five thousand
dollars, became raving mad, through excess of joy, and died in a few
days.”
Lauron’s “London Cries” will be further noticed: in the mean time it may
suffice to say, that this is the season wherein a few kidnappers of the
feathered tribe walk about with their little prisoners, and tempt young
fanciers to “buy a fine singing bird.”
_April 9, 1827._
*
[131] Letters between Rev. J. Granger, &c.
* * * * *
~Garrick Plays.~
No. XIV.
[From the “Arraignment of Paris,” a Dramatic Pastoral, by George Peel,
1584.]
_Flora dresses Ida Hill, to honour the coming of the Three Goddesses._
_Flora._ Not Iris in her pride and bravery
Adorns her Arch with such variety;
Nor doth the Milk-white Way in frosty night
Appear so fair and beautiful in sight,
As done these fields, and groves, and sweetest bowers,
Bestrew’d and deck’d with parti-colour’d flowers.
Along the bubbling brooks, and silver glide,
That at the bottom doth in silence slide,
The watery flowers and lilies on the banks
Like blazing comets burgeon all in ranks;
Under the hawthorn and the poplar tree,
Where sacred Phœbe may delight to be:
The primrose, and the purple hyacinth,
The dainty violet, and the wholesome minth;
The double daisy, and the cowslip (Queen
Of summer flowers), do over-peer the green;
And round about the valley as ye pass,
Ye may ne see (for peeping flowers) the grass.--
They are at hand by this.
Juno hath left her chariot long ago,
And hath return’d her peacocks by her Rainbow;
And bravely, as becomes the Wife of Jove,
Doth honour by her presence to our grove:
Fair Venus she hath let her sparrows fly,
To tend on her, and make her melody;
Her turtles and her swans unyoked be,
And flicker near her side for company:
Pallas hath set her tigers loose to feed,
Commanding them to wait when she hath need:
And hitherward with proud and stately pace,
To do us honour in the sylvan chace,
They march, like to the pomp of heav’n above,
Juno, the Wife and Sister of King Jove,
The warlike Pallas, and the Queen of Love.
* * * * *
_The Muses, and Country Gods, assemble to welcome the Goddesses._
_Pomona._ ------ with country store like friends we venture forth.
Think’st, Faunus, that these Goddesses will take our gifts in worth?
_Faunus._ Nay, doubtless; for, ’shall tell thee, Dame, ’twere
better give a thing,
A sign of love, unto a mighty person, or a King,
Than to a rude and barbarous swain both bad and basely born:
FOR GENTLY TAKES THE GENTLEMAN THAT OFT THE CLOWN WILL SCORN.
* * * * *
_The Welcoming Song._
_Country Gods._ O Ida, O Ida, O Ida, happy hill!
This honour done to Ida may it continue still!
_Muses._ Ye Country Gods, that in this Ida wonne,
Bring down your gifts of welcome,
For honour done to Ida.
_Gods._ Behold in sign of joy we sing,
And signs of joyful welcome bring.
For honour done to Ida.
_Pan._ The God of Shepherds, and his mates
With country cheer salutes your States:
Fair, wise, and worthy, as you be!
And thank the gracious Ladies Three,
For honour done to Ida.
* * * * *
_Paris. Œnone._
_Paris._ Œnone, while we bin disposed to walk,
Tell me, what shall be subject of our talk.
Thou hast a sort of pretty tales in store;
’Dare say no nymph in Ida’s woods hath more.
Again, beside thy sweet alluring face,
In telling them thou hast a special grace.
Then prithee, sweet, afford some pretty thing,
Some toy that from thy pleasant wit doth spring.
_Œn._ Paris, my heart’s contentment, and my choice
Use thou thy pipe, and I will use my voice;
So shall thy just request not be denied,
And time well spent, and both be satisfied.
_Paris._ Well, gentle nymph, although thou do me wrong,
That can ne tune my pipe unto a song,
Me list this once, Œnone, for thy sake,
This idle task on me to undertake.
(_They sit under a tree together._)
_Œn._ And whereon then shall be my roundelay?
For thou hast heard my store long since, ’dare say--
How Saturn did divide his kingdom tho’
To Jove, to Neptune, and to Dis below:
How mighty men made foul successless war
Against the Gods, and State of Jupiter:
How Phorcyas’ ’ympe, that was so trick and fair,
That tangled Neptune in her golden hair,
Became a Gorgon for her lewd misdeed;--
A pretty fable, Paris, for to read;
A piece of cunning, trust me for the nonce,
That wealth and beauty alter men to stones:
How Salmacis, resembling Idleness,
Turns men to women all thro’ wantonness:
How Pluto raught Queen Pluto’s daughter thence,
And what did follow of that love-offence:
Of Daphne turn’d into the Laurel Tree,
That shews a myrror of virginity:
How fair Narcissus, tooting on his shade,
Reproves disdain, and tells how form doth vade:
How cunning Philomela’s needle tells,
What force in love, what wit in sorrow, dwells:
What pains unhappy Souls abide in Hell,
They say, because on Earth they lived not well,--
Ixion’s wheel, proud Tantal’s pining woe,
Prometheus’ torment, and a many moe;
How Danaus’ daughters ply their endless task;
What toil the toil of Sysiphus doth ask.
All these are old, and known, I know; yet, if thou wilt have any,
Chuse some of these; for, trust me else, Œnone hath not many.
_Paris._ Nay, what thou wilt; but since my cunning not compares
with thine,
Begin some toy that I can play upon this pipe of mine.
_Œn._ There is a pretty Sonnet then, we call it CUPID’S CURSE:
“They that do change old love for new, pray Gods they change for
worse.”
(_They sing._)
_Œn._ Fair, and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be,
The fairest shepherd on our green,
A Love for any Lady.
_Paris._ Fair, and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be,
Thy Love is fair for thee alone,
And for no other Lady.
_Œn._ My Love is fair, my Love is gay.
And fresh as bin the flowers in May,
And of my Love my roundelay,
My merry, merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid’s Curse:
They that do change old love for new.
Pray Gods they change for worse.
_Both._ {Fair, and fair, &c.} (_repeated._)
{Fair, and fair, &c.}
_Œn._ My Love can pipe, my Love can sing,
My Love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry, merry roundelays
Amen to Cupid’s Curse:
They that do change old love for new,
Pray Gods they change for worse.
_Both._ {Fair, and fair, &c.} (_repeated._)
{Fair, and fair, &c.}
* * * * *