An Island in the Moon

An Island in the Moon
William Blake
1784
Exported from Wikisource on 12/19/19
Chapters
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Dramatis Personae
Suction the Epicurean
Quod the Cynic
Sipsop the Pithagorean
Etruscan Column
Mrs Gimblet
Inflammable Gass
Obtuse Angle the Mathematician
Steelyard the Lawgiver
Tilli Lally, the Siptippidist
Aradobo, the Dean of Morocco
Miss Gittipin
Mrs Nannicantipot
Mrs Sistagatist (or Sigtagatist)
Gibble Gabble, the wife of Inflammable Gass
Little Scopprell
External links
An Island in the Moon, text.
[AN ISLAND IN THE MOON]
[In a Manuscript Fragment]
[PAGE 1]
[Chapter 1]
In the Moon, is a certain Island near by a mighty continent, which small island seems to have some affinity to England, & what is more extraordinary the people are so much alike & their language so much the same that you would think you was among your friends.
In this Island dwells three Philosophers--Suction, the Epicurean, Quid the Cynic, & Sipsop, the Pythagorean. I call them by the names of these sects tho the sects are not ever mentiond there as being quite out of date however the things still remain, and the vanities are the same. the three Philosophers sat together thinking of nothing.
In comes--Etruscan Column the Antiquarian & after an abundance of Enquiries to no purpose sat himself down & described something that nobody listend to so they were employd when Mrs Gimblet came in [tipsy] the corners of her mouth seemd I dont know how, but very odd as if she hoped you had not an ill opinion of her. to be sure we are all poor creatures. well she seated & [listend] seemd to listen with great attention while the Antiquarian seemd to be talking of virtuous cats, but it was not so. she was thinking of the shape of her eyes & mouth & he was thinking, of his eternal fame the three Philosophers at this time were each endeavouring to conceal [the] his laughter, (not at them but) at his own imaginations this was the situation of this improving company, when in a great hurry, Inflammable Gass the Wind finder enterd. they seemd to rise & salute each other Etruscan Column & Inflammable Gass fixd their eyes on each other, their tongues went in question & answer, but their thoughts were otherwise employd
"I don't like his eyes," said Etruscan Column.
"He's a foolish puppy," said Inflammable Gass, smiling on him.
The 3 Philosophers --[Quid] [the Elder] the Cynic smiling, the Epicurean seeming [not] studying the flame of the candle, & the Pythagorean playing with the cat--listen'd with open mouths to the edifying discourses.
"Sir said," the Antiquarian, "I have seen these works, & I do affirm that they are no such thing. They seem to me to be the most wretched, paltry, flimsy Stuff that ever--"
"What d'ye say? What dye say?" said Inflammable Gass. "Why--why I wish I could see you write so."
"Sir," said the Antiquarian, "according to my opinion the author is an errant blockhead."
"Your reason--Your reason?" said Inflammable Gass."Why--why, I think it very abominable to call a man a blockhead that you know nothing of."
"Reason Sir?" said the Antiquarian. "I'll give you an example for your reason As I was walking along the street I saw a number of swallows on the [top of an house] rails of an old Gothic square they seemd to be going on their passage, as Pliny says as I was looking up, a little outre fellow pulling me by the sleeve, cries, 'Pray Sir who do all they belong to?' I turnd my self about with [PAGE 2] great contempt. Said I, 'Go along, you fool!' 'Fool!' said he, 'who do you call fool I only askd you a civil question.' [here Etr] I had a great mind to have thrash'd the fellow only he was bigger than I"
Here Etruscan column left off--Inflammable Gass, recollecting himself [said], "Indeed I do not think the man was a fool for he seems to me to have been desirous of enquiring into the works of nature!"
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" said the Pythagorean.
It was re-echo'd by [the] Inflammable Gass to overthrow the argument.
Etruscan Column then star[t]ing up & clenching both his fists was prepared to give a formal answer to the company But Ob[t]use Angle, entering the room having made a gentle bow, proceeded to empty his pockets of a vast number of papers, turned about & sat down wiped his [head] with his pocket handkerchief & shutting his eyes began to scratch his head.
"Well, gentlemen," said he, "what is the cause of strife?
The Cynic answer'd, "They are only quarreling about Voltaire."
"Yes," said the Epicurean, "& having a bit of fun with him."
"And," said the Pythagorean, "endeavoring to incorporate their souls with their bodies,"
Obtuse Angle giving a grin, said, "Voltaire understood nothing of the Mathematics, and a man must be a fool i'faith not to understand the Mathematics."
Inflammable Gass turning round hastily in his chair said, "Mathematics he found out a number of Queries in Philosophy."
Obtuse Angle shutting his eyes & saying that he always understood better when he shut his eyes [It is not of use to make] "In the first place it is of no use for a man to make Queries but to solve them, for a man may be a fool & make Queries but a man must have good sound sense to solve them. a query & an answer are as different as a strait line & a crooked one. secondly--"
"I--I--I--aye! Secondly, Voltaire's a fool," says the Epicurean.
"Pooh," says the Mathematician scratching his head with double violence, "it is not worth Quarreling about."
The Antiquarian here got up--& hemming twice to shew the strength of his Lungs, said, "But my Good Sir, Voltaire was immersed in matter, & seems to have understood very little but what he saw before his eyes, like the Animal upon the Pythagoreans lap always playing with its own tail."
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" said Inflammable Gass, "He was the Glory of France. I have got a bottle of air that would spread a Plague."
Here the Antiquarian shruggd up his shoulders & was silent [talkd for half an hour] while Inflammable Gass talk'd for half an hour.
When Steelyard, the lawgiver, coming in stalking--with an act of parliament in his hand, said that it was a shameful thing that acts of parliament should be in a free state, it had so engrossed his mind that he did not salute the company.
Mrs Gimblet drew her mouth downwards.
[PAGE 3]
Chap 2d
Tilly Lally the Siptippidist Aradobo, the dean of Morocco, Miss Gittipin [&] Mrs Nannicantipot, Mrs Sigtagatist[1], Gibble Gabble the wife of Inflammable Gass--& Little Scopprell enterd the room (If I have not presented you with every character in the piece call me [Ass*Arse]—Ass.)
Notes
↑ The name “Sigtagatist” was first written “Sistagatist” in most places, but mended.
Chap 3d
In the Moon, as Phebus stood over his oriental Gardening, “O ay, come, I’ll sing you a song,” said the Cynic.
“The trumpeter shit in his hat,” said the Epicurean.
“––& clapt it on his head,” said the Pythagorean.
“Ill begin again said the Cynic
“Little Phebus came strutting in
“With his fat belly & his round chin
“What is it you would please to have
“Ho! Ho!
“I wont let it go at only so & so.”
Mrs Gimblet look’d as if they meant her. Tilly Lally laught like a Cherry clapper. Aradobo ask’d, “Who was Phebus Sir?”
Obtuse Angle answerd, quickly, “He was the God of Physic, Painting, Perspective, Geometry, Geography, Astronomy, Cookery, Chymistry, [Conjunctives], Mechanics, Tactics, Pathology, Phraseology, Theolog[y], Mythology, Astrology, Osteology, Somatology, in short every art & science adorn'd him as beads round his neck.”
Here Aradobo lookd Astonishd & askd if he understood Engraving.
Obtuse Angle Answerd indeed he did.
“Well,” said the other, “he was as great as Chatterton.”
Tilly Lally turnd round to Obtuse Angle & askd who it was that was as great as Chatterton.
“Hay! How should I know? Answerd Obtuse Angle. “Who was It, Aradobo?”
“Why sir,” said he, the Gentleman that the song was about.”
“Ah,” said Tilly Lally, “I did not hear it. What was it, Obtuse Angle?
“Pooh,” said he. “Nonsense!”
“Mhm, said Tilly Lally.
“It was Phebus,” said the Epicurean.
“Ah, that was the Gentleman,” said Aradobo.
“Pray Sir,” said Tilly Lally, “who was Phebus?”
Obtuse Angle answerd, “The heathens in the old ages us’d to have Gods that they worship’d, & they us’d to sacrifice to them you have read about that in the bible.”
“Ah,” said Aradobo, “I thought I had read of Phebus in the Bible.”
“Aradobo, you should always think [of what you st] before you speak said Obtuse Angle.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! he means Pharaoh said Tilly Lally.
“I am ashamd of you,–– making [PAGE 4] use of the names [of] in the Bible,” said Mrs. Sigtagatist.
“Ill tell you what Mrs Sinagain I don’t think there’s any harm in it,” said Tilly Lally.
“No,” said Inflammable Gass. “I have got a camera obscura at home. What was it you was talking about?
“Law!” said Tilly Lally. “What has that to do with Pharaoh?”
“Pho! nonsense! hang Pharoh & all his host,” said the Pythagorean. “Sing away, Quid.”
Then the Cynic sung ––
“Honour & Genius is all I ask
“And I ask the Gods no more
“No more, No more, | the three Philosophers
“No more, No more.” | bear Chorus.
Here Aradobo suck’d his under lip.
Chap 4
“Hang names!” said the Pythagorean. “What’s Pharoh better than Phebus, or Phebus than Pharoh?”
“Hang them both,” said the Cynic.
“Don’t be prophane,” said Mrs Sistagatist.
“Why?” said Mrs Nannicantipot, “I don’t think it’s prophane to say ‘Hang Pharoh.’” “Oh,” said Mrs Sinagain. “I'm sure you ought to hold your tongue, for you never say any thing about the scriptures, & you hinder your husband from going to church.”
“Ha, Ha!” said Inflammable Gass. “What! don’t you like to go to church?”
“No,” said Mrs Nannicantipot. “I think a person may be as good at home.”
“If I had not a place of profit that forces me to go to church”, said Inflammable Gass, “I’d see the parsons all hang’d, – a parcel of lying—“
“O!” said Mrs Sigtagatist. “If it was not for churches & chapels I should not have liv’d so long. There was I, up in a Morning at four o’clock when I was a Girl. I would run like the dickins till I was all in a heat. I would stand till I was ready to sink into the earth. Ah, Mr Huffcap would kick the bottom of the Pulpit out, with Passion, would tear off the sleeve of his Gown & set his wig on fire & throw it at the people. He’d cry & stamp & kick & sweat and all for the good of their souls.”
“I’m sure he must be a wicked villain,” said Mrs Nannicantipot, “a passionate wretch. If I was a man I’d wait at the bottom of the pulpit stairs & knock him down & run away!”
“You would, you Ignorant jade? I wish I could see you hit any of the ministers! You deserve to have your ears boxed you do.”
“Im sure this is not religion answers the [PAGE 5] other.
Then Mr Inflammable Gass ran & shov’d his head into the fire & set his [head] hair all in a flame & ran about the room. No–no, he did not; I was only making a fool of you.
Chap 5
Obtuse Angle, Scopprell, Aradobo, & Tilly Lally are all met in Obtuse Angle’s study.
“Pray,” said Aradobo, “is Chatterton a Mathematician?”
“No,” said Obtuse Angle. “How can you be so foolish as to think he was?”
“Oh, I did not think he was–I only ask’d,” said Aradobo.
“How could you think he was not, & ask if he was?” said Obtuse Angle.
“Oh no, Sir. I did think he was, before you told me, but afterwards I thought he was not.”
Obtuse Angle said, “In the first place you thought he was & then afterwards when I said he was not you thought he was not. Why I know that––”
“Oh no, sir, I thought that lie was not, but I ask’d t to know whether he was.”
“How can that be?” said Obtuse Angle. “How could you ask & think that he was not?”
“Why,” said he, “it came into my bead that he was not.”
“Why then,” said Obtuse Angle, “you said that he was?”
“Did I say so? Law! I did not think I said that.”
“Did not he?” said Obtuse Angle.
“Yes,” said Scopprell.
“But I meant–––” said Aradobo, “I–-I–-I can’t think. Law! Sir, I wish you’d tell me, how it is.”
Then Obtuse Angle put his chin in his hand & said, “Whenever you think, you must always think for yourself.”
“How Sir!” said Aradobo. “Whenever I think, I must think myself? I think I do. In the first place–––” said he with a grin.
“Poo! Poo!” said Obtuse Angle. “Don’t be a fool.”
Then Tilly Lally took up a Quadrant & ask’d, “[what is this gim crank for]. Is not this a sun dial?”
“Yes,” said Scopprell, “but it’s broke.”
At this moment the three Philosophers enter’d and low’ring darkness hover’d o’er th’ assembly.
“Come,” said the Epicurean, “let’s have some rum & water, & hang the mathematics! Come Aradobo! Say some thing.”
Then Aradobo began, “In the first place I think, I think in the first place that Chatterton was clever at Fissic, Follogy, Pistinology, Aridology, Arography, Transmography, Phizography, Hogamy, Hatomy, & hall that, but in the first place he eat wery little, wickly–that is, he slept very little which he brought into a consumsion; & what was that that he took? [Cha] Fissic or somethink,––& so died!
So all the people in the book enter’d into the room & they could not talk any more to the present purpose.
[PAGE 6]
Chap 6
They all went home & left the Philosophers. Then Suction Ask’d if Pindar was not a better Poet, than Ghiotto was a Painter.
“Plutarch has not the life of Ghiotto,” said Sipsop.
“No,” said Quid, “to be sure, he was an Italian.”
“Well,” said Suction, “that is not any proof.”
“Plutarch was a nasty ignorant puppy,” said Quid. “I hate your sneaking rascals. there’s Aradobo in [twen[ty]] ten or twelve years will be a far superior genius.”
“Ah!” said the Pythagorean, “Aradobo will make a very clever fellow.”
“Why,” said Quid, “I think that [a] any natural fool would make a clever fellow if he was properly brought up.”
“Ah, hang your reasoning!” said the Epicurean. I hate reasoning. I do every thing by my feelings.”
”Ah!” said Sipsop, “I only wish Jack [Hunter] Tearguts had had the cutting of Plutarch. He understands anatomy better than any of the Ancients. He’ll plunge his knife up to the hilt in a single drive, and thrust his fist in, and all in the space of a quarter of an hour. He does not mind their crying, tho’ they cry ever so. He’ll swear at them & keep them down with his fist, & tell them that he’ll scrape their bones if they don’t lay still & be quiet. What the devil should the people in the hospital that have it done for nothing, make such a piece of work for?”
”Hang that,” said Suction; “let us have a Song.”
”Then [Sipsop sang] the Cynic sang––
1
”When old corruption first begun,
Adorn’d in yellow vest,
He committed on flesh a whoredom–
O, what wicked beast!
2
From them a callow babe did spring,
And old corruption smil’d
To think his race should never end.
For now he had a child.
3
He call’d him Surgery, & fed
The babe with his own milk,
For flesh & he could ne’er agree,
She would not let him suck.
4
And this he always kept in mind,
And form’d a crooked knife,
And ran about with bloody hands
To seek his mother’s life.
5
And as he ran to seek his mother
He met with a dead woman,
He fell in love & married her,
A deed which is not common.
6
She soon grew pregnant & brought forth
Scurvy & spotted fever.
The father grin’d & skipt about
And said, ‘I’m made for ever!
7
For now I have procur’d these imps
I’ll try experiments.’
With that he tied poor scurvy down
& stopt up all its vents.
8
And when the child began to swell,
He shouted out aloud,
I’ve found the dropsy out, & soon
Shall do the world more good.’
9
He took up fever by the neck
And cut out all its spots,
And thro’ the holes which he had made
He first discover’d guts.”
“Ah,” said Sipsop, “you think we are rascals––& we think you are rascals. I do as I chuse. What is it to any body what I do? I am always unhappy too. When I think of Surgery––I don’t know. I do it because I like it. My father does what he likes & so do I. I think, somehow, I’ll leave it off. There was a woman having her cancer cut, & she shriek’d so, that I was quite sick”
Chap 7
“Good-night,” said Sipsop. “Good-night,” said the other two. Then [they] Quid & Suction were left alone. Then said Quid, “I think that Homer is bombast, & Shakespeare is too wild, & Milton has no feelings; they might be easily outdone. Chatterton never writ those poems! A parcel of fools, going to Bristol! If I was to go I’d find it out in a minute, but I’ve found it out already.”
“If I don’t knock them all up next year in the Exhibition, I’ll be hang’d,” said Suction, “Hang Philosophy! I would not give a farthing for it! Do all by your feelings, and never think at all about it. I’m hang’d if I don’t get up to-morrow morning by four o’clock & work Sir Joshua.”
“Before ten years are at an end,” said Quid, “how I will work these poor milk [PAGE 8] sop devils,––an ignorant pack of wretches!”
So they went to bed.
Chap 8
Steelyard the Lawgiver, sitting at his table, taking extracts from Hervey’s Meditations among the tombs & Young’s Night thoughts. [This is unfair and ?I ?think]
“He is not able to hurt me,” (said he) “more than making me Constable or taking away the parish business. Hah!
[O what a scene is here what a disguise]
My crop of corn is but a field of tares”,
Says Jerome happiness is not for us poor crawling reptiles of the earth. Talk of happiness & happiness! It’s no such thing.Every person has as something.
Hear then the pride & knowledge of a Sailor,
His sprit sail fore sail main sail & his mizzen.
A poor frail man! god wot I know none frailer.
I know no greater sinner than John Taylor.
If I had only myself to care for I'd soon make Double Elephant look foolish, & Filligree work. I hope [I] shall live to see–
‘The wreck of matter & the crush of worlds’,
as Younge says.”
Obtuse Angle enterd the Room.
“What news, Mr Steelyard?
“I am Reading ‘Theron & Aspasio’, said he.
Obtuse Angle took up the books one by one.
“I don’t find it here,” said he.
“Oh no,” said the other, “it was the meditations!”
Obtuse Angle took up the book & read till the other was quite tir'd out.
Then Scopprell & Miss Gittipin, coming in Scopprell took up a book & read following passage:–

”An Easy of [Human] Huming Understanding, by John Lookye [Gentleman] Gent.
“John Locke,” said Obtuse Angle.
“O, ay–Lock,” said Scopprell. [“Its a book about…”]
”Now here,” said Miss Gittipin I never saw such company in my life. You are always talking of your books. I like to be where we talk. You had better take a walk, that we may have some pleasure. I am sure I never see any pleasure. There’s Double Elephant’s Girls, they have their own way; & there’s Miss Filligreework she goes out in her coaches, & her footman, & her maids, & Stormonts, & Balloon hats, & a pair of Gloves every day, & the sorrows of Werter, & Robinsons, & the Queen of France’s Puss colou, & my Cousin Gibble Gabble says that I am like nobody else. I might as well be in a nunnery. There they go [to] in Postchaises & Stages to Vauxhall & Ranelagh. And I hardly know what a coach is, except when I go to [PAGE 9] Mr Jacko's he knows what riding is, [& he does not] & his wife is the most agreeable woman. You hardly know she has a tongue in her head, and he is the funniest fellow, & I do believe he'll go in partnership with his master, & they have black servants lodge at their house. I never saw such a place in my life. He says he as Six & twenty rooms in his house, and I believe it, & he is not such a liar as Quid thinks he is.” [but he is always Envying]
“Poo! Poo! Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue,” said the Lawgiver.
This quite provok’d Miss Gittipin, to interrupt her in her favourite topic, & she proceeded to use every Provoking speech that ever she could, & he bore it [more] like a Saint than a Lawgiver, and with great Solemnity he address’d the company in these words:–
”They call women the weakest vessel, but I think they are the strongest. A girl has always more tongue than a boy. I have seen a little brat no higher than a nettle, & she had as much tongue as a city clark; but a boy would be such a fool, not have any thing to say and, if any body ask’d him a question he would put his head into a hole & hide it. I am sure I take but little pleasure. You have as much pleasure as I have. There I stand & bear every fool’s insult. if I had only myself to care for, I'd wring off their noses.”
To this Scopprell answer’d, “I think the Ladies discourses, Mr Steelyard, are some of them more improving than any book. That is the way I have got some of my knowledge.”
”Then,” said Miss Gittipin, “Mr Scopprell, do you know the song of Phebe and Jellicoe?
“No, Miss,” said Scopprell.
Then she repeated these verses while Steelyard walk’d about the room:
“Phebe, drest like beauties Queen,
Jellicoe in faint peagreen,
Sitting all beneath a grot
Where the little lambkins trot;
Maidens dancing loves a sporting,
All the country folks a courting,
Susan, Johnny, Bet, & Joe
Lightly tripping on a row.
Happy people who can be
In happiness compard with ye?
The Pilgrim with his crook & hat
Sees your happiness compleat.”
”A charming Song, indeed miss,” said Scopprell.
[That was all for..] here they reciev’d a summons for a merry making at the Philosopher’s house.
[PAGE 10]
Chap 9
“I say, this evening [we'd] we'll all get drunk. I say — dash! an Anthem an Anthem!” said Suction.
“Lo the Bat with Leathern wing,
Winking & blinking,
Winking & blinking,
Winking & blinking,
Like Doctor Johnson.”
Quid. ‘Oho’, said Doctor Johnson
To Scipio Africanus,
‘If you dont own me a Philosopher
I’ll kick your Roman Anus’.”
Suction. “A ha To Doctor Johnson
Said Scipio Africanus
Lift up my Roman Petticoatt
And kiss my Roman Anus.’”
“And the Cellar goes down with a Step.” (Grand Chorus.)
“Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Hom Hooooo, my poooooor siiides! I I should die if I was to live here! said Scopprell. “Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho!”
1st Vo. Want Matches
2d Vo. Yes Yes Yes
1st Vo. Want Matches
2d Vo. No----------
1st Vo. “Want Matches?”
2d Vo. “Yes Yes Yes ”
1st Vo. “Want Matches”
2d Vo. “No---------”
Here was Great confusion & disorder Aradobo said that the boys in the street sing something very pritty & funny [about London — O no] about Matches. Then Mrs Nannicantipot sung:
“I cry my matches as far as Guild hall;
God bless the duke & his aldermen all!”
Then sung Scopprell:
“I ask the Gods no more,—
no more, no more.”
“Then,” said Suction, “come Mr Lawgiver, your song”; and the Lawgiver sung:
“As I walkd forth one may morning
To see the fields so pleasant & so gay
O there did I spy a young maiden sweet [PAGE 11]
Among the Violets that smell so sweet
Smell so sweet
Smell so sweet
Among the Violets that smell so sweet.”
“Hang your Violets! Here’s your Rum & water [sweeter]. “O ay,” said Tilly Lally, “Joe Bradley & I was going along one day in the Sugar house. Joe Bradley saw—for he had but one eye— [?one] saw a treacle Jar. So he goes of his blind side & dips his hand up to the shoulder in treacle. ‘Here, [ll] lick, lick, lick!’ said he. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! For he had but one eye. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho!’
Then sung Scopprell:
“And I ask the Gods no more, —
no more, no more,
no more, no more”
”Miss Gittipin,” said he, “you sing like a harpsichord. Let your bounty descend to our fair ears and favour us with a fine song.”
Then she sung:
“This frog he would a-wooing ride,
Kitty alone, — Kitty alone, —
This frog he would a-wooing ride, —
Kitty alone & I!
Sing cock I cary, Kitty alone, —
Kitty alone, — Kitty alone, —
Cock I car, Kitty alone, —
Kitty alone & I!”
“Charming! truly elegant!” said Scopprell.
“And I ask the gods no more!”
”Hang your Serious Songs!” said Sipsop, & he sung as follows:
“Fa ra so bo ro
Fa ra bo ra
Sa ba ra ra ba rare roro
Sa ra ra ra bo ro ro ro
Radara
Sarapodo no flo ro.”
”Hang Italian songs! Let’s have English!” said Quid. “[Sing a Mathematical Song Obtuse Angle then he sung] English Genius for ever! here I go:
“Hail Matrimony, made of Love,
To thy wide gates how great a drove
On purpose to be yok'd do come!
Widows & maids & Youths also,
That lightly trip on beauty's toe,
Or sit on beauty's bum.
Hail, fingerfooted lovely Creatures!
The females of our human Natures,
Formed to suckle all Mankind.
Tis you that come in time of need;
Without you we shoud never Breed,
Or any Comfort find.
For if a Damsel's blind or lame,
Or Nature's hand has crooked her frame, [PAGE 12]
Or if she's deaf, or is wall eyed,
Yet if her heart is well inclined,
Some tender lover she shall find
That panteth for a Bride.
The universal Poultice this,
To cure whatever is amiss
In damsel or in Widow gay.
It makes them smile, it makes them skip,
Like Birds just cured of the pip,
They chirp, & hop away.
Then come ye Maidens,come ye Swains,
Come & be eased of all your pains
In Matrimony's Golden cage.”
“[None of] Go & be hanged!” said Scopprel. “How can you have the face to make game of Matrimony?”
[“What you skipping flea how dare ye? I’ll dash you through your chair,” says the Cynic. “This Quid” (cries out Miss Gittipin), always spoils good company in this manner & its a shame.”]
Then Quid call’d upon Obtuse Angle for a Song, & he, wiping his face & looking on the corner of the ceiling, sang:
“To be or not to be
Of great capacity,
Like Sir Isaac Newton,
Or Locke? or Doctor South,
Or Sherlock upon death?
I’d rather be Sutton.
For he did build a house
For aged men & youthm
With walls of brick & stone.
He furnish’d it within
With whatever he could win
And all his own.
He drew out of the Stocks
His money in a box,
And sent his servant
To Green the Bricklayer
And to the Carpenter:
He was so fervent.
The chimneys were three score,
The windows many more,
And for convenience
He sinks & gutters made,
And all the way he pav’d
To hinder pestilence.
Was not this a good man,
Whose life was but a span,
Whose name was Sutton, — [PAGE 13]
As Locke or Doctor South,
Or Sherlock upon Death.
Or Sir Isaac Newton?”
The Lawgiver was very attentive & beg’d to have it sung over again & again till the company were tired & insisted on the Lawgiver singing song himself, which he readily complied with.
“This city & this country has brought forth many mayors,
To sit in state & give forth laws out of their old oak chairs,
With face as brown as any nut with drinking of strong ale;
Good English hospitality, O then it did not fail!
With scarlet gowns & broad gold lace would make a yeoman sweat,
With stockings roll’d above their knees & shoes as black as jet,
With eating beef & drinking beer, O they were stout & hale!
Good English hospitality, O then it did not fail!
Thus sitting at the table wide, the Mayor & Aldermen
Were fit to give law to the city; each eat as much as ten.
The hungry poor ente’rd the hall to eat good beef & ale.
Good English hospitality, O then it did not fail!”
Here they gave a shout, & the company broke up.
Chap 10
Thus these happy Islanders spent their time. But felicity does not last long, for being met at the house of Inflammable Gass the windfinder, the following affairs happen’d.
”Come, Flammable,” said Gibble Gabble, “& let’s enjoy ourselves. Bring the Puppets.”
“Hay, — Hay,” said he, “you—sho—why—ya, ya, how can you be so foolish? Ha! Ha! Ha! She calls the experiments puppets!”
Then he went up stairs & loaded the maid, with glasses, & brass tubes, & magic pictures.
“Here ladies & gentlemen,” said he I’ll shew you a louse, [climing] or a flea, or a butterfly, or a cock chafer, the blade bone of a tittle back. No, no. Here’s a bottle of wind that I took up in the bog house, O dear, O dear, the water’s got into the sliders! Look here, Gibble Gabble! Lend me your handkerchief, Tilly Lally.
Tilly Lally took out his handkerchief, which smear’d the glass worse than ever. Then he screw’d it on. Then he took the sliders, & then he set up the glasses for the Ladies to view the pictures. Thus he was employ’d, & quite out of breath. While Tilly Laily & Scopprell were pumping at the air pump, Smack went the glass.
“Hang!” said Tilly Lally.
Inflammable Gass turn’d short round & threw down the table & Glasses, & Pictures, & broke the bottles of wind, & let out the Pestilence. He saw the Pestilence fly out of the bottle, & cried out, [PAGE 14] while he ran out of the room:
“[Go] Come out! Come out! [you ar] We are putrified! We are corrupted! Our lungs are destroy’d with the Flogiston. This will spread a plague all thro' the Island!
He was down stairs the very first. On the back of him came all the others in a heap.
So they need not bidding go.
Chap 11
Another merry meeting at the house of Steelyard the Lawgiver. After Supper Steelyard & Obtuse Angle. had pump’d Inflammable Gass quite dry. They play’d at forfeits & try’d every method to get good song then he sung humour.
Said Miss Gittipin, “Pray, Mr Obtuse Angle, sing us a song.”
Then he sung:
“Upon a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
The children walking two & two in grey & blue & green,
Grey headed beadles walk’d before with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul’s they like Thames’ waters flow.
O what a multitude they seem’d, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies, they sit with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes were there, but multitudes of lambs,
[And all in order sit and waiting the chief chanter’s commands]
Thousands of little girls & boys raising their innocent hands
[Then like a mighty wind they raise to heav’n the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heav’n among,
When the whole multitude of innocents their voices raise
Like angels on the throne of heav’n, raising the voice of phraise]
Let Cherubim & Seraphim now raise their voices high]
Then like a mighty wind they raise to heav’n the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heav’n among,
Beneath them sit the rev’rend men the guardians of the poor
Then cherish pity lest you drive an angel from your door.”[1]
After this they all sat silent for a quarter of an hour, [& Mrs Sistagatist]
& Mrs Nannicantipot said, “It puts me in Mind of my [grand] mother’s song:”
[The voice]
“When the tongues of children are heard on the green,
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast,
And every thing else is still.
‘Then come home my children the sun is gone down,
And the dews of night arise;
Come, Come, leave off play, & let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies’ [PAGE 15]
‘No, No, let us play, for it is yet day,
And we cannot [go to] go to sleep [till it’s dark]
[The flocks are at play & we can’t go away]
Besides in the Sky the little birds fly,
And the meadows are cover’d with Sheep’
‘Well, Well, go & play till the light fades away,
And then go home to bed.
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh’d,
And all the hills echoed.” [2]
Then [Miss Gittipin] [Tilly Lally sung] [Quid] sung Quid:
“O father father where are you going
Oh do not walk so fast;
Oh, speak, father, speak to your little boy,
Or else I shall be lost.
The night it was dark & no father was there,
And the child was wet with dew.
The mire was deep, & the child did weep
And away the vapour flew.” [3]
Here nobody could sing any longer, till Tilly Lally pluck’d up a spirit & he sung:
“O I say, you Joe,
Throw us the ball.
I’ve a good mind to go,
And leave you all.
I never saw such a bowler,
To bowl the ball in a [turd] tansey,
And to clean it with my handkercher
Without saying a word.
That Bill’s a foolish fellow,
[To hit me with the bat]
He has given me a black eye.
He does not know how to handle a bat
Any more than a dog or a cat.
He has knock’d down the wicket
And broke the stumps,
And runs without shoes to save his pumps.”
Here a laugh began and Miss Gittipin sung:
“Leave O leave [me] to my sorrows,
Here Ill sit & fade away;
Till I’m nothing but a spirit,
And I lose this form of clay. [PAGE 16]
Then if chance along this forest
Any walk in pathless ways,
Thro’ the gloom he'll see my shadow,
Hear my voice upon the Breeze.”
The Lawgiver all the while sat delighted to see them in such a serious humour.
“Mr Scopprel,” said he, “you must be acquainted with a great many songs.”
“O, dear sir! Ho, Ho, Ho, I am no singer. I must beg of one of these tender hearted ladies to sing for me.”
They all declined, & he was forced to sing himself:
“There’s Doctor Clash
And Signior Falalasole:
O they sweep in the cash
Into their purse hole.
Fa me la sol. La me fa sol.
[how many Blackamoors
cou’d singwith their thick lips]
Great A, little A,
Bouncing B.
Play away, Play away,
Your out of the key.
Fa me la sol. La me fa sol.
Musicians should have
A pair of very good ears,
And Long fingers & thumbs,
And not like clumsy bears.
Fa me la sol. La me fa sol.
Gentlemen, Gentlemen,
Rap, Rap, Rap,
Fiddle, Fiddle, Fiddle,
Clap, Clap, Clap.
Fa me la sol. La me fa sol.
“Hm” said the Lawgiver, “Funny enough! Let’s have handel’s water piece.”
Then Sipsop sung:
“A crowned king,
On a white horse sitting,
With his trumpets sounding,
And Banners flying,
Thro’ the clouds of smoke he makes his way,
And the shout of his thousands fills his heart with rejoicing & victory:
And the shout of his thousands fills his heart with rejoicing & victory.
Victory Victory! ’twas William, the prince of Orange, —”
[Here a leaf or more is missing]
[PAGE X]
“—them Illuminating the Manuscript.”
“Ay,” said she, “that would be excellent.”
“Then,”said he, “I would have all the writing Engraved instead of Printed, & at every other leaf a high finish’d print — all in three Volumes folio — & sell them a hundred pounds apiece. They would print off two thousand.”
“Then,” said she, “whoever will not have them will be ignorant fools & will not deserve to live.”
“Don’t you think I have something of the Goat’s face?” says he.
“Very like a Goat’s face,” she answerd.
“I think your face,” said he, “is like that noble beast the Tyger. Oh, I was at Mrs Sicknaken’s & I was speaking of my abilities but their nasty hearts, poor devils, are
eat up with envy. They envy me my abilities, & all the Women envy your abilities.”
“My dear, they hate people who are of higher abil[it]ies than their nasty, filthy [Souls] Selves. But do you outface them, & then Strangers will see you have an
opinion.”
“Now I think we should do as much good as we can when we are at Mr Femality's. Do yo[u] snap, & take me up, and I will fall into such a passion. I’ll hollow and stamp & frighten all the People there, & show them what truth is.”
At this Instant Obtuse Angle came in.
“Oh, I am glad you are come,” said Quid.
End>
* * *
↑ First draft of “Holy Thursday” from “Songs of Innocence”.
↑ First draft of “Nurse song” from “Songs of Innocence”.
↑ First draft of “Little Boy lost” from “Songs of Innocence”.
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