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Nos. 7 & 8:
Chorus and Song (Hassan)
Enter Hassan from street, bringing with him a crowd of ragged beggars, cripples, etc. His wives enter from the house and busy themselves in handing refreshments to the men, under Hassan's direction.
| Men. | |||
| Tramps and scamps | |||
| And halt and blind, | |||
| Empty beggar and cringing cripple too! | |||
| Maimed and lamed, | |||
| Who've wailed and whined | |||
| Since the morning for food and tipple too! | |||
| Here is truly hospitality! Take your seats without formality! Drown our care, conviviality! |
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| While there is sunshine make your hay! | |||
| Wives. | |||
| Tramps and scamps | |||
| Of every kind — | |||
| Baksheesh beggar and cringing cripple too — | |||
| Maimed and lamed | |||
| And halt and blind | |||
| Take his victuals and drink his tipple too! | |||
| Here's mistaken hospitality! Disregard for all formality! Crazy unconventionality! |
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| What will his friends and neighbours say? | |||
| Hassan (to Beggars). | ||
| My friends I am a fool! | ||
| 'Tis luck for you that I'm no wiser! | ||
| All. | ||
| Wiser? Why, sir? | ||
| Hassan. | ||
| With all impostors such as you | ||
| I am a sympathiser! | ||
| All. | ||
| Fie, sir! Fie, sir! | ||
| (To one another) He knows we are impostors, | ||
| And he is a sympathiser! | ||
| (To Hassan) But why do you on swindlers | ||
| Cast a sympathising eye, sir? | ||
| Hassan. | ||
| I've been one too! | ||
Song. — Hassan and Chorus.
| Hassan. | ||
| When my father sent me to Ispahan, | ||
| Said he, "My boy, don't dread it: | ||
| Here's the usual one half-crown, Hassan, | ||
| You'll get some more, with credit. | ||
| A nice new suit and a brush and comb, | ||
| And a tongue that's smooth and witty, | ||
| A man may be nothing at all at home — | ||
| But something in the City!" | ||
| Chorus. | ||
| That's all you want to feel at home | ||
| As something in the City! | ||
| Hassan. | ||
| So I came to town,where I said that I | ||
| Was the owner of an island, | ||
| Where the sea-birds flocked — and by and bye | ||
| The gulls did flock to my land! | ||
| As a sample soil I had mixed some loam | ||
| With gold to make it gritty; | ||
| A prophet I'd ne'er been made at home — | ||
| But made one in the City! | ||
| Chorus. | ||
| A prophet I'd never been at home, | ||
| But made one in the City! | ||
| Hassan. | ||
| Now that gold of mine was a mine of gold | ||
| That set the town a-whirling; | ||
| So the public and the land I sold | ||
| For half a million sterling! | ||
| As the Romans do you must do in Rome | ||
| (Where thieves are called banditti), | ||
| But impudent robbery spells at home, | ||
| "Promotion" in the City! | ||
| Chorus. | ||
| That's what we call it here at home, | ||
| "Promotion" in the City! | ||
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Page modified 18 May 2008