SUCTION: |
The trumpeter shat in his hat . . . TRA LA! |
SIPSOP: |
. . . And clapt it on his head. TRA LA!! |
QUID: |
[scornfully] I'll begin again. Little Phebus came strutting
in
With his fat belly & his round chin,
What is it you would please to have?
Ho! Ho!
I won't let it go at only so & so.
[GIMBLET thinks they mean her; TILLY LALLY laughs] |
ARADOBO: |
[to QUID] Who was Phebus, sir? |
OBTUSE ANGLE: |
He was the God of physic, painting, perspective, geometry, geography,
astronomy, cookery, chemistry, mechanics, tactics, pathology, phraseology,
theology, mythology, astrology, osteology, somatology -- in short,
every art and science adorned him as beads around his neck. |
ARADOBO: |
Did he understand engraving? |
ARADOBO: |
Well, he was as great as Chatterton. |
TILLY LALLY: |
[to OBTUSE ANGLE] Who was as great as Chatterton? |
OBTUSE ANGLE: |
Hey! How should I know? Who was it, Aradobo? |
ARADOBO: |
Why sir, the gentleman that the song was about. |