Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas

Chorus– Don't tell me Belgravia, &c

The Marquis kept a-fidgeting and frowning at his wife,
For she talked to me as free as if she'd known me all my life!
I felt that I was in the swim, so wasn't over-awed,
But 'ung about and spent my cash as lavish as a lord!

Spoken– It was worth all the money, I can tell you, to be chatting there across the counter with a real live Marchioness for as long as ever my funds would 'old out. They'd have held out much longer, only the Marchioness made it a rule never to give change – she couldn't break it, she said, not even for me. I wish I could give you an idea of how she smiled as she made that remark; for the fact is, when an aristocrat does unbend – well, —

Chorus– Don't tell me Belgravia, &c

Next time I meet the Marchioness a-riding in the Row,
I'll ketch her eye and raise my 'at, and up to her I'll go,
(With sentiment) – And tell her next my 'art I keep the stump of that cigar
She sold me on the 'appy day we 'ad at her Bazaar!

Spoken– And she'll be pleased to see me again, I know! She's not one of your stuck-up sort; don't you make no mistake about it, the aristocracy ain't 'alf as bloated as people imagine who don't know 'em. Whenever I hear parties running 'em down, I always say:

Chorus– Don't tell me Belgravia is stiff in behaviour, &c

vi.– THE CHIVALROUS

The singer (who should be a large man, in evening dress, with a crumpled shirt-front) will come on the stage with a bearing intended to convey at first sight that he is a devoted admirer of the fair sex. After removing his crush-hat in an easy manner, and winking airily at the orchestra, he will begin: —

WHY SHOULDN'T THE DARLINGS?

There's enthusiasm brimming in the breasts of all the women,
And they're calling for enfranchisement with clamour eloquent:
When some parties in a huff rage at the plea for Female Suffrage,
I invariably floor them with a simple argu-ment.

Chorus (to be rendered with a winning persuasiveness)

Why shouldn't the darlings have votes? de-ar things!
On politics each of 'em dotes, de-ar things!
(Pathetically.) Oh it does seem so hard
They should all be debarred,
'Cause they happen to wear petticoats, de-ar things!

Nature all the hens to crow meant, I could prove it in a moment,
Though they've selfishly been silenced by the cockadoodle-doos.
But no man of sense afraid is of enfranchising the Ladies.
(Magnanimously.) Let 'em put their pretty fingers into any pie they choose!

Spoken– For —

Chorus– Why shouldn't the darlings, &c

They would cease to care for dresses, if we made them elec-tresses,
No more time they'd spend on needlework, nor at pianos strum;
Every dainty little Dorcas would be sitting on a Caucus,
Busy wire-pulling to produce the New Millenni-um!

Spoken– Oh! —

Chorus– Why shouldn't the darlings, &c

In the House we'll see them sitting soon, it will be only fitting
They should have an opportunity their country's laws to frame.
And the Ladies' legislation will be sure to cause sensation,
For they'll do away with everything that seems to them a shame!

Spoken– Then —

Chorus– Why shouldn't the darlings, &c

They will promptly clap a stopper on whate'er they deem improper,
Put an end to vaccination, landed property, and pubs;
And they'll fine Tom, Dick, and Harry, if they don't look sharp and marry,
And for Kindergartens confiscate those nasty horrid Clubs!

Spoken– Ah! —

Chorus– Why shouldn't the darlings, &c

They'll declare it's quite immoral to engage in foreign quarrel,
And that Britons never never will be warriors any more!
When our forces are abolished, and defences all demolished,
They will turn upon the Jingo tack, and want to go to war!

Spoken– So —

Chorus– Why shouldn't the darlings, &c

(With a grieved air.) Yet there's some who'd close such vistars to their poor down-trodden sistars,
And persuade 'em, if they're offered votes, politely to refuse!
Say they do not care about 'em, and would rather be without 'em —
Oh, I haven't common patience with such narrer-minded views!

Spoken– No! —

Chorus– Why shouldn't the darlings, &c

And it's females – that's the puzzle! – who petition for the muzzle,
Which I call it poor and paltry, and I think you'll say so too.
They are not in any danger. Let 'em drop the dog-in-manger!
If they don't require the vote themselves, there's other Ladies do!

Spoken– And —