THE 14 GILBERT AND SULLIVAN PLAYS

They splutter and splash like a pig in a puddle
And dickens a one of 'em's earning his salt.
For Thespis as Jove is a terrible blunder,
Too nervous and timid--too easy and weak--
Whenever he's called on to lighten or thunder,
The thought of it keeps him awake for a week.
Then mighty Mars hasn't the pluck of a parrot.
When left in the dark he will quiver and quail;
And Vulcan has arms that would snap like a carrot,
Before he could drive in a tenpenny nail.
Then Venus's freckles are very repelling,
And Venus should not have a quint in her eyes;
The learned Minerva is weak in her spelling,
And scatters her h's all over the skies.
Then Pluto in kindhearted tenderness erring,
Can't make up his mind to let anyone die--
The Times has a paragraph ever recurring,
"Remarkable incidence of longevity."
On some it has some as a serious onus,
to others it's quite an advantage--in short,
While ev're life office declares a big bonus,
The poor undertakers are all in the court.
Then Cupid, the rascal, forgetting his trade is
To make men and women impartially smart,
Will only shoot at pretty young ladies,
And never takes aim at a bachelor's heart.
The results of this freak--or whatever you term it--
Should cover the wicked young scamp with disgrace,
While ev'ry young man is as shy as a hermit,
Young ladies are popping all over the place.
This wouldn't much matter--for bashful and shymen,
When skillfully handled are certain to fall,
But, alas, that determined young bachelor Hymen
Refuses to wed anybody at all.
He swears that Love's flame is the vilest of arsons,
And looks upon marriage as quite a mistake;
Now what in the world's to become of the parsons,
And what of the artist who sugars the cake?
In short, you will see from the facts that I'm showing,
The state of the case is exceedingly sad;
If Thespis's people go on as they're going,
Olympus will certainly go to the bad.
From Jupiter downward there isn't a dab in it,
All of 'em quibble and shuffle and shirk,
A premier in Downing Street forming a cabinet,
Couldn't find people less fit for their work.
[enter Thespis L.U.E.]
THES. Sillimon, you can retire.
SILL. Sir, I--
THES. Don't pretend you can't when I say you can. I've seen you
do it--go. [exit Sillimon bowing extravagantly. Thespis imitates
him]Well, Mercury, I've been in power one year today.
MER. One year today. How do you like ruling the world?
THES. Like it. Why it's as straightforward as possible. Why
there hasn't been a hitch of any kind since we came up here. Lor'
the airs you gods and goddesses give yourselves are perfectly
sickening. Why it's mere child's play.
MER. Very simple isn't it?
THES. Simple? Why I could do it on my head.
MER. Ah--I darsay you will do it on your head very soon.
THES. What do you mean by that, Mercury?
MER. I mean that when you've turned the world quite topsy-turvy
you won't know whether you're standing on your head or your
heels.
THES. Well, but Mercury, it's all right at present.
MER. Oh yes--as far as we know.
THES. Well, but, you know, we know as much as anybody knows; you
know I believe the world's still going on.
MER. Yes--as far as we can judge--much as usual.
THES. Well, the, give the Father of the Drama his due Mercury.
Don't be envious of the Father of the Drama.
MER. But you see you leave so much to accident.
THES. Well, Mercury, if I do, it's my principle. I am an easy
man, and I like to make things as pleasant as possible. What did
I do the day we took office? Why I called the company together
and I said to them: "Here we are, you know, gods and goddesses,
no mistake about it, the real thing. Well, we have certain duties
to discharge, let's discharge them intelligently. Don't let us be
hampered by routine and red tape and precedent, let's set the
original gods an example, and put a liberal interpretation on our
duties. If it occurs to any one to try an experiment in his own
department, let him try it, if he fails there's no harm done, if
he succeeds it is a distinct gain to society. Don't hurry your
work, do it slowly and well." And here we are after a twelvemonth
and not a single complaint or a single petition has reached me.
MER. No, not yet.
THES. What do you mean by "no,not yet?"
MER. Well, you see, you don't understand things. All the
petitions that are addressed by men to Jupiter pass through my
hands, and its my duty to collect them and present them once a
year.
THES. Oh, only once a year?
MER. Only once a year--
THES. And the year is up?
MER. Today.
THES. Oh, then I suppose there are some complaints?
MER. Yes, there are some.
THES. [Disturbed] Oh, perhaps there are a good many?
MER. There are a good many.
THES. Oh, perhaps there are a thundering lot?
MER. There are a thundering lot.
THES. [very much disturbed] Oh.
MER. You see you've been taking it so very easy--and so have most
of your company.
THES. Oh, who has been taking it easy?
MER. Well, all except those who have been trying experiments.
THES. Well but I suppose the experiment are ingenious?
MER. Yes; they are ingenious, but on the whole ill-judged. But
it's time go and summon your court.
THES. What for.
MER. To hear the complaints. In five minutes they will be here.
[Exit]
THES. [very uneasy] I don't know how it is, but there is
something in that young man's manner that suggests that the
father of the gods has been taking it too easy. Perhaps it would
have been better if I hadn't given my company so much scope. I
wonder what they've been doing. I think I will curtail their
discretion, though none of them appear to have much of the
article. It seems a pity to deprive 'em of what little they
have.
[Enter Daphne, weeping]
THES. Now then, Daphne, what's the matter with you?
DAPH. Well, you know how disgracefully Sparkeion--
THES. [correcting her] Apollo--
DAPH. Apollo, then--has treated me. He promised to marry me years
ago and now he's married to Nicemis.
THES. Now look here. I can't go into that. You're in Olympus now
and must behave accordingly. Drop your Daphne--assume your
Calliope.
DAPH. Quite so. That's it. [mysteriously]
THES. Oh--that is it? [puzzled]
DAPH. That is it. Thespis. I am Calliope, the muse of fame.
Very good. This morning I was in the Olympian library and I took
down the only book there. Here it is.
THES. [taking it] Lempriere's Classical Dictionary. The Olympian
Peerage.
DAPH. Open it at Apollo.
THES. [opens it] It is done.
DAPH. Read.
THES. "Apollo was several times married, among others to Issa,
Bolina, Coronis, Chymene, Cyrene, Chione, Acacallis, and
Calliope."
DAPH. And Calliope.
THES. [musing] Ha. I didn't know he was married to them.
DAPH. [severely] Sir. This is the family edition.
THES. Quite so.
DAPH. You couldn't expect a lady to read any other?
THES. On no consideration. But in the original version--
DAPH. I go by the family edition.
THES. Then by the family edition, Apollo is your husband.
[Enter Nicemis and Sparkeion]
NICE. Apollo your husband? He is my husband.
DAPH. I beg your pardon. He is my husband.
NICE. Apollo is Sparkeion, and he's married to me.
DAPH. Sparkeion is Apollo, and he's married to me.
NICE. He is my husband.
DAPH. He's your brother.
THES. Look here, Apollo, whose husband are you? Don't let's have
any row about it; whose husband are you?
SPAR. Upon my honor I don't know. I'm in a very delicate
position, but I'll fall in with any arrangement Thespis may
propose.
DAPH. I've just found out that he's my husband and yet he goes
out every evening with that "thing."
THES. Perhaps he's trying an experiment.
DAPH. I don't like my husband to make such experiments. The
question is, who are we all and what is our relation to each
other.
SPAR. You're Diana. I'm Apollo
And Calliope is she.
DAPH. He's your brother.
NICE. You're another. He has fairly married me.
DAPH. By the rules of this fair spot
I'm his wife and you are not.
SPAR & DAPH. By the rules of this fair spot
I'm/she's his wife and you are not.
NICE. By this golden wedding ring,
I'm his wife, and you're a "thing."
DAPH, NICE, SPAR. By this golden wedding ring,
I'm/She's his wife and you're a "thing."
ALL. Please will someone kindly tell us.
Who are our respective kin?
All of us/them are very jealous
Neither of us/them will give in.
NICE. He's my husband, I declare,
I espoused him properlee.
SPAR. That is true, for I was there,
And I saw her marry me.
DAPH. He's your brother--I'm his wife.
If we go by Lempriere.
SPAR. So she is, upon my life.
Really, that seems very fair.
NICE. You're my husband and no other.
SPAR. That is true enough I swear.
DAPH. I'm his wife, and you're his brother.
SPAR. If we go by Lempriere.
NICE. It will surely be unfair,
To decide by Lempriere. [crying]
DAPH. It will surely be quite fair,
To decide by Lempriere.
SPAR & THES How you settle it I don't care,
Leave it all to Lempriere.
[Spoken] The Verdict
As Sparkeion is Apollo,
Up in this Olympian clime,
Why, Nicemis, it will follow,
He's her husband, for the time. [indicating Daphne]
When Sparkeion turns to mortal
Join once more the sons of men.
He may take you to his portal [indicating Nicemis]
He will be your husband then.
That oh that is my decision,
'Cording to my mental vision,
Put an end to all collision,
My decision, my decision.
ALL. That oh that is his decision. etc.
[Exeunt Thes, Nice., Spar and Daphne, Spar. with Daphne, Nicemis
weeping with Thespis. mysterious music. Enter Jupiter, Apollo
and Mars from below, at the back of stage. All wear cloaks, as
disguise and all are masked]
JUP., AP., MARS. Oh rage and fury, Oh shame and sorrow.
We'll be resuming our ranks tomorrow.
Since from Olympus we have departed,
We've been distracted and brokenhearted,
Oh wicked Thespis. Oh villain scurvy.
Through him Olympus is topsy turvy.
Compelled to silence to grin and bear it.
He's caused our sorrow, and he shall share it.
Where is the monster. Avenge his blunders.
He has awakened Olympian thunders.
[Enter Mercury]
JUP. Oh monster.
AP. Oh monster.
MARS. Oh monster.
MER. [in great terror] Please sir, what have I done, sir?
JUP. What did we leave you behind for?
MER. Please sir, that's the question I asked for when you went
away.
JUP. Was it not that Thespis might consult you whenever he was in
a difficulty?
MER. Well, here I've been ready to be consulted, chockful of
reliable information--running over with celestial maxims--advice
gratis ten to four--after twelve ring the night bell in cases of
emergency.
JUP. And hasn't he consulted you?
MER. Not he--he disagrees with me about everything.
JUP. He must have misunderstood me. I told him to consult you
whenever he was in a fix.
MER. He must have though you said in-sult. Why whenever I opened
my mouth he jumps down my throat. It isn't pleasant to have a
fellow constantly jumping down your throat--especially when he
always disagrees with you. It's just the sort of thing I can't
digest.
JUP. [in a rage] Send him here. I'll talk to him.
[enter Thespis. He is much terrified]
JUP. Oh monster.
AP. Oh monster.
MARS. Oh monster.
[Thespis sings in great terror, which he endeavours to conceal]
JUP. Well sir, the year is up today.
AP. And a nice mess you've made of it.
MARS. You've deranged the whole scheme of society.
THES. [aside] There's going to be a row. [aloud and very
familiarly]My dear boy, I do assure you--
JUP. Be respectful.
AP. Be respectful.
MARS. Be respectful.
THES. I don't know what you allude to. With the exception of
getting our scene painter to "run up" this temple, because we
found the ruins draughty, we haven't touched a thing.
JUP. Oh story teller.
AP. Oh story teller.
MARS. Oh story teller.
[Enter thespians]
THES. My dear fellows, you're distressing yourselves
unnecessarily. The court of Olympus is about to assemble to
listen to the complaints of the year, if any. But there are
none, or next to none. Let the Olympians assemble. [Thespis
takes chair. JUP., AP., and MARS sit below him.
Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that it is usual for the gods to
assemble once a year to listen to mortal petitions. It doesn't
seem to me to be a good plan, as work is liable to accumulate;
but as I am particularly anxious not to interfere with Olympian
precedent, but to allow everything to go on as it has always been
accustomed to go--why, we'll say no more about it. [aside] But
how shall I account for your presence?
JUP. Say we are the gentlemen of the press.
THES. That all our proceedings may be perfectly open and aboveboard
I have communicated with the most influential members of
the Athenian press, and I beg to introduce to your notice three
of its most distinguished members. They bear marks emblematic of
the anonymous character of modern journalism. [Business of
introduction. Thespis is very uneasy] Now then, if you're all
ready we will begin.
MER. [brings tremendous bundle of petitions] Here is the agenda.
THES. What's that? The petitions?
MER. Some of them. [opens one and reads] Ah, I thought there'd be
a row about it.
THES. Why, what's wrong now?
MER. Why, it's been a foggy Friday in November for the last six
months and the Athenians are tired of it.
THES. There's no pleasing some people. This craving for perpetual
change is the curse of the country. Friday's a very nice day.
MER. So it is, but a Friday six months long.--it gets monotonous.
JUP, AP, MARS. [rising] It's perfectly ridiculous.
THES. [calling them] Cymon.
CYM. [as time with the usual attributes] Sir.
THES. [Introducing him to the three gods] Allow me--Father Time--
rather young at present but even time must have a beginning. In
course of time, time will grow older. Now then, Father Time,
what's this about a wet Friday in November for the last six
months.
CYM. Well, the fact is, I've been trying an experiment. Seven
days in the week is an awkward number. It can't be halved. Two;'s
into seven won't go.
THES. [tries it on his fingers] Quite so--quite so.
CYM. So I abolished Saturday.
JUP, AP, MARS. Oh but. [Rising]
THES. Do be quiet. He's a very intelligent young man and knows
what he is about. So you abolished Saturday. And how did you find
it answer?
CYM. Admirably.
THES. You hear? He found it answer admirably.
CYM. Yes, only Sunday refused to take its place.
THES. Sunday refused to take its place?
CYM. Sunday comes after Saturday--Sunday won't go on duty after
Friday. Sunday's principles are very strict. That's where my
experiment sticks.
THES. Well, but why November? Come, why November?
CYM. December can't begin until November has finished. November
can't finish because he's abolished Saturday. There again my
experiment sticks.
THES. Well, but why wet? Come now, why wet?
CYM. Ah, that is your fault. You turned on the rain six months
ago and you forgot to turn it off again.
JUP., AP., MARS. [rising] On this is monstrous.
ALL. Order. Order.
THES. Gentlemen, pray be seated. [to the others] The liberty of
the press, one can't help it. [to the three gods] It is easily
settled. Athens has had a wet Friday in November for the last six
months. Let them have a blazing Tuesday in July for the next
twelve.
JUP., AP., MARS. But--
ALL. Order. Order.
THES. Now then, the next article.
MER. Here's a petition from the Peace Society. They complain
because there are no more battles.
MARS. [springing up] What.
THES. Quiet there. Good dog--soho; Timidon.
TIM. [as Mars] Here.
THES. What's this about there being no battles?
TIM. I've abolished battles; it's an experiment.
MARS. [spring up] Oh come, I say--
THES. Quiet then. [to Tim] Abolished battles?
TIM. Yes, you told us on taking office to remember two things. To
try experiments and to take it easy. I found I couldn't take it
easy while there are any battles to attend to, so I tried the
experiment and abolished battles. And then I took it easy. The
Peace Society ought to be very much obliged to me.
THES. Obliged to you. Why, confound it. Since battles have been
abolished, war is universal.
TIM. War is universal?
THES. To b sure it is. Now that nations can't fight, no two of
'em are on speaking terms. The dread of fighting was the only
thing that kept them civil to each other. Let battles be
restored and peace reign supreme.
MER. Here's a petition from the associated wine merchants of
Mytilene? Are there no grapes this year?
THES. Well, what's wrong with the associated wine merchants of
Mytilene? Are there no grapes this year?
THES. Plenty of grapes. More than usual.
THES. [to the gods] You observe, there is no deception. There are
more than usual.
MER. There are plenty of grapes, only they are full of ginger
beer.
THREE GODS. Oh, come I say [rising they are put down by Thespis.]
THES. Eh? what [much alarmed] Bacchus.
TIPS. [as Bacchus] Here.
THES. There seems to be something unusual with the grapes of
Mytilene. They only grow ginger beer.
TIPS. And a very good thing too.
THES. It's very nice in its way but it is not what one looks for
from grapes.
TIPS. Beloved master, a week before we came up here, you insisted
on my taking the pledge. By so doing you rescued me from my
otherwise inevitable misery. I cannot express my thanks. Embrace
me. [attempts to embrace him.]
THES. Get out, don't be a fool. Look here, you know you're the
god of wine.
TIPS. I am.
THES. [very angry] Well, do you consider it consistent with your
duty as the god of wine to make the grapes yield nothing but
ginger beer?
TIPS. Do you consider it consistent with my duty as a total
abstainer to grow anything stronger than ginger beer?
THES. But your duty as the god of wine--
TIPS. In every respect in which my duty as the god of wine can be
discharged consistently with my duty as a total abstainer, I will
discharge it. But when the functions clash, everything must give
way to the pledge. My preserver. [Attempts to embrace him]
THES. Don't be a confounded fool. This can be arranged. We can't
give over the wine this year, but at least we can improve the
ginger beer. Let all the ginger beer be extracted from it
immediately.
THREE GODS. We can't stand this,
We can't stand this.
It's much too strong.
We can't stand this.
It would be wrong.
Extremely wrong.
If we stood this.
If we stand this
If we stand this
We can't stand this.
DAPH, SPAR, NICE. Great Jove, this interference.
Is more than we can stand;
Of them make a clearance,
With your majestic hand.
JOVE. This cool audacity, it beats us hollow.
I'm Jupiter.
MARS. I'm Mars.
AP. I'm Apollo.
[Enter Diana and all the other gods and goddesses.
ALL. [kneeling with their foreheads on the ground]
Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo
Have quitted the dwellings of men;
The other gods quickly will follow.
And what will become of us then.
Oh pardon us, Jove and Apollo,
Pardon us, Jupiter, Mars:
Oh see us in misery wallow.
Cursing our terrible stars.
[enter other gods.]
ALL THESPIANS: Let us remain, we beg of you pleadingly.
THREE GODS: Let them remain, they beg of us pleadingly.
THES. Life on Olympus suits us exceedingly.
GODS. Life on Olympus suits them exceedingly.
THES. Let us remain, we pray in humility.
GODS. Let 'em remain, they pray in humility.
THES. If we have shown some little ability.
GODS. If they have shown some little ability.
Let us remain, etc...
JUP. Enough, your reign is ended.
Upon this sacred hill.
Let him be apprehended
And learn out awful will.
Away to earth, contemptible comedians,
And hear our curse, before we set you free'
You shall be all be eminent tragedians,
Whom no one ever goes to see.
ALL. We go to earth, contemptible tragedians,
We hear his curse, before he sets us free,
We shall all be eminent tragedians,
Whom no one ever, ever goes to see.
SILL, SPAR, THES. Whom no one
Ever goes to see.
[The thespians are driven away by the gods, who group themselves
in attitudes of triumph.]
THES. Now, here you see the arrant folly
Of doing your best to make things jolly.
I've ruled the world like a chap in his senses,
Observe the terrible consequences.
Great Jupiter, whom nothing pleases,
Splutters and swears, and kicks up breezes,
And sends us home in a mood avengin'
In double quick time, like a railroad engine.
And this he does without compunction,
Because I have discharged with unction
A highly complicated function
Complying with his own injunction,
Fol, lol, lay
CHO. All this he does....etc.
[The gods drive the thespians away. The thespians prepare to
descent the mountain as the curtain falls.
CURTAIN
TRIAL BY JURY
Libretto by W. S. Gilbert
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE LEARNED JUDGE
THE PLAINTIFF
THE DEFENDANT
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF
USHER
FOREMAN OF THE JURY
ASSOCIATE
FIRST BRIDESMAID
First produced at the Royalty Theatre, London, March 25, 1875
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
CHORUS
Hark, the hour of ten is sounding:
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,
Hall of Justice, crowds surrounding,
Breathing hope and fear--
For to-day in this arena,
Summoned by a stern subpoena,
Edwin, sued by Angelina,
Shortly will appear.
Enter Usher
SOLO - USHER
Now, Jurymen, hear my advice--
All kinds of vulgar prejudice
I pray you set aside:
With stern, judicial frame of mind
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
CHORUS
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
[During Chorus, Usher sings fortissimo, "Silence in Court!"]
USHER Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case:
Observe the features of her face--
The broken-hearted bride.
Condole with her distress of mind:
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
CHORUS From bias free, etc.
USHER And when, amid the plaintiff's shrieks,
The ruffianly defendant speaks--
Upon the other side;
What he may say you needn't mind---
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
CHORUS From bias free, etc.
Enter Defendant
RECIT -- DEFENDANT
Is this the court of the Exchequer?
ALL. It is!
DEFENDANT (aside) Be firm, be firm, my pecker,
Your evil star's in the ascendant!
ALL. Who are you?
DEFENDANT. I'm the Defendant.
CHORUS OF JURYMEN (shaking their fists)
Monster, dread our damages.
We're the jury!
Dread our fury!
DEFENDANT Hear me, hear me, if you please,
These are very strange proceedings--
For permit me to remark
On the merits of my pleadings,
You're at present in the dark.
[Defendant beckons to Jurymen--they leave the box and gather around
him as they sing the following:
That's a very true remark--
On the merits of his pleadings
We're at present in the dark!
Ha! ha!--ha! ha!
SONG -- DEFENDANT
When first my old, old love I knew,
My bosom welled with joy;
My riches at her feet I threw--
I was a love-sick boy!
No terms seemed too extravagant
Upon her to employ--
I used to mope, and sigh, and pant,
Just like a love-sick boy!
Tink-a-tank! Tink-a-tank!
But joy incessant palls the sense;
And love, unchanged, will cloy,
And she became a bore intense
Unto her love-sick boy!
With fitful glimmer burnt my flame,
And I grew cold and coy,
At last, one morning, I became
Another's love-sick boy.
Tink-a-tank! Tink-a-tank!
CHORUS OF JURYMEN (advancing stealthily)
Oh, I was like that when a lad!
A shocking young scamp of a rover,
I behaved like a regular cad;
But that sort of thing is all over.
I'm now a respectable chap
And shine with a virtue resplendent
And, therefore, I haven't a scrap
Of sympathy with the defendant!
He shall treat us with awe,
If there isn't a flaw,
Singing so merrily--Trial-la-law!
Trial-la-law! Trial-la-law!
Singing so merrily--Trial-la-law!
[They enter the Jury-box.
RECIT--USHER (on Bench)
Silence in Court, and all attention lend.
Behold your Judge! In due submission bend!
Enter Judge on Bench
CHORUS
All hail, great Judge!
To your bright rays
We never grudge
Ecstatic praise.
All hail!
May each decree
As statute rank
And never be
Reversed in banc.
All hail!
RECIT--JUDGE
For these kind words, accept my thanks, I pray.
A Breach of Promise we've to try to-day.
But firstly, if the time you'll not begrudge,
I'll tell you how I came to be a Judge.
ALL. He'll tell us how he came to be a Judge!
JUDGE. I'll tell you how...
ALL. He'll tell us how...
JUDGE. I'll tell you how...
ALL. He'll tell us how...
JUDGE Let me speak...!
ALL. Let him speak!
JUDGE. Let me speak!
ALL. (in a whisper). Let him speak!
He'll tell us how he came to be a Judge!
USHER. Silence in Court! Silence in Court!
SONG--JUDGE
When I, good friends, was called to the bar,
I'd an appetite fresh and hearty.
But I was, as many young barristers are,
An impecunious party.
I'd a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue--
And a brief which I bought of a booby--
A couple of shirts, and a collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!
CHORUS. A couple of shirts, etc.
JUDGE. At Westminster Hall I danced a dance,
Like a semi-despondent fury;
For I thought I never should hit on a chance
Of addressing a British Jury--
But I soon got tired of third-class journeys,
And dinners of bread and water;
So I fell in love with a rich attorney's
Elderly, ugly daughter.
CHORUS. So he fell in love, etc.
JUDGE. The rich attorney, he jumped with joy,
And replied to my fond professions:
"You shall reap the reward of your pluck, my boy,
At the Bailey and Middlesex sessions.
You'll soon get used to her looks," said he,
"And a very nice girl you will find her!
She may very well pass for forty-three
In the dusk, with a light behind her!"
CHORUS. She may very well, etc.
JUDGE. The rich attorney was good as his word;
The briefs came trooping gaily,
And every day my voice was heard
At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey.
All thieves who could my fees afford
Relied on my orations.
And many a burglar I've restored
To his friends and his relations.
CHORUS. And many a burglar, etc.
JUDGE. At length I became as rich as the Gurneys--
An incubus then I thought her,
So I threw over that rich attorney's
Elderly, ugly daughter.
The rich attorney my character high
Tried vainly to disparage---
And now, if you please, I'm ready to try
This Breach of Promise of Marriage!
CHORUS. And now if you please, etc.
JUDGE. For now I'm a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. For now I'm a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Though all my law be fudge,
Yet I'll never, never budge,
But I'll live and die a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE (pianissimo). It was managed by a job--
ALL. And a good job, too!
JUDGE. It was managed by a job!
ALL. And a good job too!
JUDGE. It is patent to the mob,
That my being made a nob
Was effected by a job.
ALL. And a good job too!
[Enter Counsel for Plaintiff. He takes his place in front row of
Counsel's seats
RECIT -- COUNSEL
Swear thou the jury!
USHER. Kneel, Jurymen, oh, kneel!
[All the Jury kneel in the Jury-box, and so are hidden from
audience.
USHER. Oh, will you swear by yonder skies,
Whatever question may arise,
'Twixt rich and poor, 'twixt low and high,
That you will well and truly try?
JURY (raising their hands, which alone are visible)
To all of this we make reply
By the dull slate of yonder sky:
That we will well and truly try.
We'll try.
(All rise with the last note)
RECIT -- COUNSEL
Where is the Plaintiff?
Let her now be brought.
RECIT -- USHER
Oh, Angelina! Come thou into Court!
Angelina! Angelina!
Enter the Bridesmaids
CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS
Comes the broken flower--
Comes the cheated maid--
Though the tempest lower,
Rain and cloud will fade
Take, oh maid, these posies:
Though thy beauty rare
Shame the blushing roses,
They are passing fair!
Wear the flowers 'til they fade;
Happy be thy life, oh maid!
[The Judge, having taken a great fancy to First Bridesmaid, sends
her a note by Usher, which she reads, kisses rapturously,
and places in her bosom.
Enter Plaintiff
SOLO -- PLAINTIFF
O'er the season vernal,
Time may cast a shade;
Sunshine, if eternal,
Makes the roses fade!
Time may do his duty;
Let the thief alone--
Winter hath a beauty.
That is all his own.
Fairest days are sun and shade:
I am no unhappy maid!
[The Judge having by this time transferred his admiration to
Plaintiff, directs the Usher to take the note from First
Bridesmaid and hand it to Plaintiff, who reads it,
kisses it rapturously, and places it in her bosom.
CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS
Comes the broken flower, etc.
JUDGE. Oh, never, never, never,
Since I joined the human race,
Saw I so excellently fair a face.
THE JURY (shaking their forefingers at him). Ah, sly dog!
Ah, sly dog!
JUDGE (to Jury). How say you?
Is she not designed for capture?
FOREMAN (after consulting with the Jury). We've but one word,
m'lud, and that is--Rapture!
PLAINTIFF (curtseying). Your kindness, gentlemen, quite
overpowers!
JURY. We love you fondly, and would make you ours!
BRIDESMAIDS (shaking their forefingers at Jury).
Ah, sly dogs! Ah, sly dogs!
RECIT -- COUNSEL for PLAINTIFF
May it please you, m'lud!
Gentlemen of the jury!
ARIA -- COUNSEL
With a sense of deep emotion,
I approach this painful case;
For I never had a notion
That a man could be so base,
Or deceive a girl confiding,
Vows, etcetera deriding.
ALL. He deceived a girl confiding,
Vows, etcetera, deriding.
[Plaintiff falls sobbing on Counsel's breast and remains there.
COUNSEL. See my interesting client,
Victim of a heartless wile!
See the traitor all defiant
Wear a supercilious smile!
Sweetly smiled my client on him,
Coyly woo'd and gently won him.
ALL. Sweetly smiled, etc.
COUNSEL. Swiftly fled each honeyed hour
Spent with this unmanly male!
Sommerville became a bow'r,
Alston an Arcadian Vale,
Breathing concentrated otto!--
An existence la Watteau.
ALL. Bless, us, concentrated otto! etc.
COUNSEL. Picture, then, my client naming,
And insisting on the day:
Picture him excuses framing--
Going from her far away;
Doubly criminal to do so,
For the maid had bought her trousseau!
ALL. Doubly criminal, etc.
COUNSEL (to Plaintiff, who weeps)
Cheer up, my pretty--oh, cheer up!
JURY. Cheer up, cheer up, we love you!
[Counsel leads Plaintiff fondly into Witness-box; he takes a tender
leave of her, and resumes his place in Court.
(Plaintiff reels as if about to faint)
JUDGE. That she is reeling
Is plain to see!
FOREMAN. If faint you're feeling
Recline on me!
[She falls sobbing on to the Foreman's breast.
PLAINTIFF (feebly). I shall recover
If left alone.
ALL. (shaking their fists at Defendant)
Oh, perjured lover,
Atone! atone!
FOREMAN. Just like a father [Kissing her
I wish to be.
JUDGE. (approaching her)
Or, if you'd rather,
Recline on me!
[She jumps on to Bench, sits down by the Judge, and falls sobbing
on his breast.
COUNSEL. Oh! fetch some water
From far Cologne!
ALL. For this sad slaughter
Atone! atone!
JURY. (shaking fists at Defendant)
Monster, monster, dread our fury--
There's the Judge, and we're the Jury!
Come! Substantial damages,
Dam---
USHER. Silence in Court!
SONG -- DEFENDANT
Oh, gentlemen, listen, I pray,
Though I own that my heart has been ranging,
Of nature the laws I obey,
For nature is constantly changing.
The moon in her phases is found,
The time, and the wind, and the weather.
The months in succession come round,
And you don't find two Mondays together.
Consider the moral, I pray,
Nor bring a young fellow to sorrow,
Who loves this young lady to-day,
And loves that young lady to-morrow.
BRIDESMAIDS (rushing forward, and kneeling to Jury).
Consider the moral, etc.
One cannot eat breakfast all day,
Nor is it the act of a sinner,
When breakfast is taken away,
To turn his attention to dinner.
And it's not in the range of belief,
To look upon him as a glutton,
Who, when he is tired of beef,
Determines to tackle the mutton.
But this I am willing to say,
If it will appease her sorrow,
I'll marry this lady to-day,
And I'll marry the other to-morrow.
BRIDESMAIDS (rushing forward as before)
But this he is willing say, etc.
RECIT -- JUDGE
That seems a reasonable proposition,
To which, I think, your client may agree.
COUNSEL
But I submit, m'lud, with all submission,
To marry two at once is Burglaree!
[Referring to law book.
In the reign of James the Second,
It was generally reckoned
As a rather serious crime
To marry two wives at a time.
[Hands book up to Judge, who reads it.
ALL. Oh, man of learning!
QUARTETTE
JUDGE. A nice dilemma we have here,
That calls for all our wit:
COUNSEL. And at this stage, it don't appear
That we can settle it.
DEFENDANT (in Witness-box).
If I to wed the girl am loth
A breach 'twill surely be--
PLAINTIFF. And if he goes and marries both,
It counts as Burglaree!
ALL. A nice dilemma we have here,
That calls for all our wit.
DUET -- PLAINTIFF and DEFENDANT
PLAINTIFF (embracing him rapturously)
I love him--I love him--with fervour unceasing
I worship and madly adore;
My blind adoration is ever increasing,
My loss I shall ever deplore.
Oh, see what a blessing, what love and caressing
I've lost, and remember it, pray,
When you I'm addressing, are busy assessing
The damages Edwin must pay---
Yes, he must pay!
DEFENDANT (repelling her furiously)
I smoke like a furnace--I'm always in liquor,
A ruffian--a bully--a sot;
I'm sure I should thrash her, perhaps I should kick her,
I am such a very bad lot!
I'm not prepossessing, as you may be guessing,
She couldn't endure me a day!
Recall my professing, when you are assessing
The damages Edwin must pay!
PLAINTIFF. Yes, he must pay!
[She clings to him passionately; after a struggle, he throws her
off into arms of Counsel.
JURY. We would be fairly acting,
But this is most distracting!
If, when in liquor he would kick her,
That is an abatement.
RECIT -- JUDGE
The question, gentlemen--is one of liquor.
You ask for guidance--this is my reply:
He says, when tipsy, he would thrash and kick her.
Let's make him tipsy, gentlemen, and try!
COUNSEL. With all respect,
I do object!
PLAINTIFF. I do object!
DEFENDANT. I don't object!
ALL. With all respect
We do object!
JUDGE (tossing his books and paper about)
All the legal furies seize you!
No proposal seems to please you,
I can't sit up here all day,
I must shortly get away.
Barristers, and you, attorneys,
Set out on your homeward journeys;
Gentle, simple-minded Usher,
Get you, if you like, to Russher;
Put your briefs upon the shelf,
I will marry her myself!
[He comes down from Bench to floor of Court. He embraces
Angelina.
FINALE
PLAINTIFF. Oh, joy unbounded,
With wealth surrounded,
The knell is sounded
Of grief and woe.
COUNSEL. With love devoted
On you he's doated,
To castle moated
Away they go.
DEFENDANT. I wonder whether
They'll live together,
In marriage tether
In manner true?
USHER. It seems to me, sir,
Of such as she, sir,
A Judge is he, sir,
And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Yes, I am a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Yes, I am a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Though homeward as you trudge,
You declare my law is fudge.
Yet of beauty I'm a judge.
ALL. And a good Judge too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
ALL. And a great snob, too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
ALL. And a great snob, too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
I'll reward him from his fob.
So we've settled with the job,
ALL. And a good job, too!
Dance
CURTAIN
UTOPIA LIMITED
OR
THE FLOWERS OF PROGRESS
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan
Libretto by William S. Gilbert
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
King Paramount, the First (King of Utopia)
Scaphio and Phantis (Judges of the Utopian Supreme Court)
Tarara (The Public Exploder)
Calynx (The Utopian Vice-Chamberlain)
Imported Flowers of Progress:
Lord Dramaleigh (a British Lord Chamberlain)
Captain Fitzbattleaxe (First Life Guards)
Captain Sir Edward Corcoran, K.C.B. (of the Royal Navy)
Mr. Goldbury (a company promoter; afterwards Comptroller of the
Utopian
Household)
Sir Bailey Barre, Q.C., M.P.
Mr. Blushington (of the County Council)
The Princess Zara (eldest daughter of King Paramount)
The Princesses Nekaya and Kalyba (her Younger Sisters)
The Lady Sophy (their English Gouvernante)
Utopian Maidens:
Salata
Melene
Phylla
ACT I
A Utopian Palm Grove
ACT II
Throne Room in King Paramount's Palace
First produced at the Savoy Theatre on October 7, 1893.
ACT I.
OPENING CHORUS.
In lazy languor--motionless,
We lie and dream of nothingness;
For visions come
From Poppydom
Direct at our command:
Or, delicate alternative,
In open idleness we live,
With lyre and lute
And silver flute,
The life of Lazyland.
SOLO - Phylla.
The song of birds
In ivied towers;
The rippling play
Of waterway;
The lowing herds;
The breath of flowers;
The languid loves
Of turtle doves--
These simply joys are all at hand
Upon thy shores, O Lazyland!
(Enter Calynx)
Calynx: Good news! Great news! His Majesty's eldest daughter,
Princess Zara, who left our shores five years since to go
to
England--the greatest, the most powerful, the wisest
country
in the world--has taken a high degree at Girton, and is
on
her way home again, having achieved a complete mastery
over
all the elements that have tended to raise that glorious
country to her present pre-eminent position among
civilized
nations!
Salata: Then in a few months Utopia may hope to be completely
Anglicized?
Calynx: Absolutely and without a doubt.
Melene: (lazily) We are very well as we are. Life without a
care--every want supplied by a kind and fatherly monarch,
who, despot though he be, has no other thought than to
make
his people happy--what have we to gain by the great
change
that is in store for us?
Salata: What have we to gain? English institutions, English
tastes,
and oh, English fashions!
Calynx: England has made herself what she is because, in that favored
land, every one has to think for himself. Here we
have no need to think, because our monarch anticipates
all
our wants, and our political opinions are formed for us
by
the journals to which we subscribe. Oh, think how much
more
brilliant this dialogue would have been, if we had been
accustomed to exercise our reflective powers! They say
that
in England the conversation of the very meanest is a
coruscation
of impromptu epigram!
(Enter Tarara in a great rage)
Tarara: Lalabalele talala! Callabale lalabalica falahle!
Calynx: (horrified) Stop--stop, I beg! (All the ladies close
their
ears.)
Tarara: Callamalala galalate! Caritalla lalabalee kallalale poo!
Ladies: Oh, stop him! stop him!
Calynx: My lord, I'm surprised at you. Are you not aware that
His
Majesty, in his despotic acquiescence with the emphatic
wish
of his people, has ordered that the Utopian language
shall
be banished from his court, and that all communications
shall henceforward be made in the English tongue?
Tarara: Yes, I'm perfectly aware of it, although--(suddenly
presenting
an explosive "cracker"). Stop--allow me.
Calynx: (pulls it). Now, what's that for?
Tarara: Why, I've recently been appointed Public Exploder to His
Majesty, and as I'm constitutionally nervous, I must
accustom
myself by degrees to the startling nature of my
duties.
Thank you. I was about to say that although, as Public
Exploder, I am next in succession to the throne, I
nevertheless
do my best to fall in with the royal decree. But
when
I am overmastered by an indignant sense of overwhelming
wrong, as I am now, I slip into my native tongue without
knowing it. I am told that in the language of that great
and pure nation, strong expressions do not exist, consequently
when I want to let off steam I have no
alternative
but to say, "Lalabalele molola lililah kallalale poo!"
Calynx: But what is your grievance?
Tarara: This--by our Constitution we are governed by a Despot
who,
although in theory absolute--is, in practice, nothing of
the
kind--being watched day and night by two Wise Men whose
duty
it is, on his very first lapse from political or social
propriety, to denounce him to me, the Public Exploder,
and
it then becomes my duty to blow up His Majesty with
dynamite--allow me. (Presenting a cracker which Calynx
pulls.) Thank you--and, as some compensation to my
wounded
feelings, I reign in his stead.
Calynx: Yes. After many unhappy experiments in the direction of
an
ideal Republic, it was found that what may be described
as a
Despotism tempered by Dynamite provides, on the whole,
the
most satisfactory description of ruler--an autocrat who
dares not abuse his autocratic power.
Tarara: That's the theory--but in practice, how does it act?
Now,
do you ever happen to see the Palace Peeper? (producing
a
"Society" paper).
Calynx: Never even heard of the journal.
Tarara: I'm not surprised, because His Majesty's agents always
buy
up the whole edition; but I have an aunt in the
publishing
department, and she has supplied me with a copy. Well,
it
actually teems with circumstantially convincing details
of
the King's abominable immoralities! If this high-class
journal may be believed, His Majesty is one of the most
Heliogabalian profligates that ever disgraced an
autocratic
throne! And do these Wise Men denounce him to me? Not
a
bit of it! They wink at his immoralities! Under the
circumstances
I really think I am justified in exclaiming
"Lalabelele molola lililah kalabalale poo!" (All horrified.)
I don't care--the occasion demands it. (Exit
Tarara)
(March. Enter Guard, escorting Scaphio and Phantis.)
CHORUS.
O make way for the Wise Men!
They are the prizemen--
Double-first in the world's university!
For though lovely this island
(Which is my land),
She has no one to match them in her city.
They're the pride of Utopia--
Cornucopia
Is each his mental fertility.
O they make no blunder,
And no wonder,
For they're triumphs of infallibility.
DUET -- Scaphio and Phantis.
In every mental lore
(The statement smacks of vanity)
We claim to rank before
The wisest of humanity.
As gifts of head and heart
We wasted on "utility,"
We're "cast" to play a part
Of great responsibility.
Our duty is to spy
Upon our King's illicites,
And keep a watchful eye
On all his eccentricities.
If ever a trick he tries
That savours of rascality,
At our decree he dies
Without the least formality.
We fear no rude rebuff,
Or newspaper publicity;
Our word is quite enough,
The rest is electricity.
A pound of dynamite
Explodes in his auriculars;
It's not a pleasant sight--
We'll spare you the particulars.
Its force all men confess,
The King needs no admonishing--
We may say its success
Is something quite astonishing.
Our despot it imbues
With virtues quite delectable,
He minds his P's and Q's,--
And keeps himself respectable.
Of a tyrant polite
He's paragon quite.
He's as modest and mild
In his ways as a child;
And no one ever met
With an autocrat yet,
So delightfully bland
To the least in the land!
So make way for the wise men, etc.
(Exeunt all but Scaphio and Phantis. Phantis is pensive.)
Scaphio: Phantis, you are not in your customary exuberant spirits.
What is wrong?
Phantis: Scaphio, I think you once told me that you have never
loved?
Scaphio: Never! I have often marvelled at the fairy influence
which
weaves its rosy web about the faculties of the greatest
and
wisest of our race; but I thank Heaven I have never been
subjected to its singular fascination. For, oh, Phantis!
there is that within me that tells me that when my time
does
come, the convulsion will be tremendous! When I love, it
will be with the accumulated fervor of sixty-six years!
But
I have an ideal--a semi-transparent Being, filled with an
inorganic pink jelly--and I have never yet seen the woman
who approaches within measurable distance of it. All are
opaque--opaque--opaque!
Phantis: Keep that ideal firmly before you, and love not until you
find her. Though but fifty-five, I am an old campaigner
in
the battle-fields of Love; and, believe me, it is better
to
be as you are, heart-free and happy, than as I
am--eternally
racked with doubting agonies! Scaphio, the Princess Zara
returns from England today!
Scaphio: My poor boy, I see it all.
Phantis: Oh! Scaphio, she is so beautiful. Ah! you smile, for you
have never seen her. She sailed for England three months
before you took office.
Scaphio: Now tell me, is your affection requited?
Phantis: I do not know--I am not sure. Sometimes I think it is,
and
then come these torturing doubts! I feel sure that she
does
not regard me with absolute indifference, for she could
never look at me without having to go to bed with a sick
headache.
Scaphio: That is surely something. Come, take heart, boy! you
are
young and beautiful. What more could maiden want?
Phantis: Ah! Scaphio, remember she returns from a land where every
youth is as a young Greek god, and where such beauty as
I
can boast is seen at every turn.
Scaphio: Be of good cheer! Marry her, boy, if so your fancy
wills,
and be sure that love will come.
Phantis: (overjoyed) Then you will assist me in this?
Scaphio: Why, surely! Silly one, what have you to fear? We have
but
to say the word, and her father must consent. Is he not
our
very slave? Come, take heart. I cannot bear to see you
sad.
Phantis: Now I may hope, indeed! Scaphio, you have placed me on
the
very pinnacle of human joy!
DUET -- Scaphio and Phantis.
Scaphio: Let all your doubts take wing--
Our influence is great.
If Paramount our King
Presume to hesitate
Put on the screw,
And caution him
That he will rue
Disaster grim
That must ensue
To life and limb,
Should he pooh-pooh
This harmless whim.
Both: This harmless whim--this harmless whim,
It is as I/you say, a harmless whim.
Phantis: (dancing) Observe this dance
Which I employ
When I, by chance
Go mad with joy.
What sentiment
Does this express?
(Phantis continues his dance while Scaphio vainly endeavors to
discover
its meaning)
Supreme content
And happiness!
Both: Of course it does! Of course it does!
Supreme content and happiness.
Phantis: Your friendly aid conferred,
I need no longer pine.
I've but to speak the word,
And lo, the maid is mine!
I do not choose
To be denied.
Or wish to lose
A lovely bride--
If to refuse
The King decide,
The royal shoes
Then woe betide!
Both: Then woe betide--then woe betide!
The Royal shoes then woe betide!
Scaphio: (Dancing) This step to use
I condescend
Whene'er I choose
To serve a friend.
What it implies
Now try to guess;
(Scaphio continues his dance while Phantis is vainly endeavouring
to
discover its meaning)
It typifies
Unselfishness!
Both: (Dancing) Of course it does! Of course it does!
It typifies unselfishness.
(Exeunt Scaphio and
Phantis.)
March. Enter King Paramount, attended by guards and nobles, and
preceded
by girls dancing before him.
CHORUS
Quaff the nectar--cull the roses--
Gather fruit and flowers in plenty!
For our king no longer poses--
Sing the songs of far niente!
Wake the lute that sets us lilting,
Dance a welcome to each comer;
Day by day our year is wilting--
Sing the sunny songs of summer!
La, la, la, la!
SOLO -- King.
A King of autocratic power we--
A despot whose tyrannic will is law--
Whose rule is paramount o'er land and sea,
A presence of unutterable awe!
But though the awe that I inspire
Must shrivel with imperial fire
All foes whom it may chance to touch,
To judge by what I see and hear,
It does not seem to interfere
With popular enjoyment, much.
Chorus: No, no--it does not interfere
With our enjoyment much.
Stupendous when we rouse ourselves to strike,
Resistless when our tyrant thunder peals,
We often wonder what obstruction's like,
And how a contradicted monarch feels.
But as it is our Royal whim
Our Royal sails to set and trim
To suit whatever wind may blow--
What buffets contradiction deals
And how a thwarted monarch feels
We probably will never know.
Chorus: No, no--what thwarted monarch feels,
You'll never, never know.
RECITATIVE -- King.
My subjects all, it is your with emphatic
That all Utopia shall henceforth be modelled
Upon that glorious country called Great Britain--
To which some add--but others do not--Ireland.
Chorus: It is!
King: That being so, as you insist upon it,
We have arranged that our two younger daughters
Who have been "finished" by an English Lady--
(tenderly) A grave and good and gracious English Lady--
Shall daily be exhibited in public,
That all may learn what, from the English standpoint,
Is looked upon as maidenly perfection!
Come hither, daughters!
(Enter Nekaya and Kalyba. They are twins, about fifteen years old;
they
are very modest and demure in their appearance, dress and
manner.
They stand with their hands folded and their eyes cast down.)
CHORUS
How fair! how modest! how discreet!
How bashfully demure!
See how they blush, as they've been taught,
At this publicity unsought!
How English and how pure!
DUET -- Nekaya and Kalyba.
Both: Although of native maids the cream,
We're brought up on the English scheme--
The best of all
For great and small
Who modesty adore.
Nek: For English girls are good as gold,
Extremely modest (so we're told)
Demurely coy--divinely cold--
And that we are--and more.
Kal: To please papa, who argues thus--
All girls should mould themselves on us
Because we are
By furlongs far
The best of the bunch,
We show ourselves to loud applause
From ten to four without a pause--
Nek: Which is an awkward time because
It cuts into our lunch.
Both: Oh maids of high and low degree,
Whose social code is rather free,
Please look at us and you will see
What good young ladies ought to be!
Nek: And as we stand, like clockwork toys,
A lecturer whom papa employs
Proceeds to prussia
Our modest ways
And guileless character--
Kal: Our well-known blush--our downcast eyes--
Our famous look of mild surprise.
Nek: (Which competition still defies)--
Our celebrated "Sir!!!"
Kal: Then all the crowd take down our looks
In pocket memorandum books.
To diagnose
Our modest pose
The Kodaks do their best:
Nek: If evidence you would possess
Of what is maiden bashfulness
You need only a button press--
Kal: And we will do the rest.
Enter Lady Sophy -- an English lady of mature years and extreme
gravity
of demeanour and dress. She carries a lecturer's wand in her
hand. She is led on by the King, who expresses great regard
and
admiration for her.
RECITATIVE -- Lady Sophy
This morning we propose to illustrate
A course of maiden courtship, from the start
To the triumphant matrimonial finish.
(Through the following song the two Princesses illustrate in
gesture
the description given by Lady Sophy.)
SONG -- Lady Sophy
Bold-faced ranger
(Perfect stranger)
Meets two well-behaved young ladies.
He's attractive,
Young and active--
Each a little bit afraid is.
Youth advances,
At his glances
To their danger they awaken;
They repel him
As they tell him
He is very much mistaken.
Though they speak to him politely,
Please observe they're sneering slightly,
Just to show he's acting vainly.
This is Virtue saying plainly
"Go away, young bachelor,
We are not what you take us for!"
When addressed impertinently,
English ladies answer gently,
"Go away, young bachelor,
We are not what you take us for!"
As he gazes,
Hat he raises,
Enters into conversation.
Makes excuses--
This produces
Interesting agitation.
He, with daring,
Undespairing,
Give his card--his rank discloses
Little heeding
This proceeding,
They turn up their little noses.
Pray observe this lesson vital--
When a man of rank and title
His position first discloses,
Always cock your little noses.
When at home, let all the class
Try this in the looking glass.
English girls of well bred notions,
Shun all unrehearsed emotions.
English girls of highest class
Practice them before the glass.
His intentions
Then he mentions.
Something definite to go on--
Makes recitals
Of his titles,
Hints at settlements, and so on.
Smiling sweetly,
They, discreetly,
Ask for further evidences:
Thus invited,
He, delighted,
Gives the usual references:
This is business. Each is fluttered
When the offer's fairly uttered.
"Which of them has his affection?"
He declines to make selection.
Do they quarrel for his dross?
Not a bit of it--they toss!
Please observe this cogent moral--
English ladies never quarrel.
When a doubt they come across,
English ladies always toss.
RECITATIVE -- Lady Sophy
The lecture's ended. In ten minute's space
'Twill be repeated in the market-place!
(Exit Lady Sophy, followed by Nekaya and
Kalyba.)
Chorus: Quaff the nectar--cull the roses--
Bashful girls will soon be plenty!
Maid who thus at fifteen poses
Ought to be divine at twenty!
(Exeunt all but
KING.)
King: I requested Scaphio and Phantis to be so good as to favor
me
with an audience this morning. (Enter SCAPHIO and
PHANTIS.)
Oh, here they are!
Scaphio: Your Majesty wished to speak with us, I believe.
You--you
needn't keep your crown on, on our account, you know.
King: I beg your pardon. (Removes it.) I always forget that!
Odd, the notion of a King not being allowed to wear one
of
his own crowns in the presence of two of his own
subjects.
Phantis: Yes--bizarre, is it not?
King: Most quaint. But then it's a quaint world.
Phantis: Teems with quiet fun. I often think what a lucky thing
it
is that you are blessed with such a keen sense of humor!
King: Do you know, I find it invaluable. Do what I will, I
cannot
help looking at the humorous side of things--for,
properly
considered, everything has its humorous side--even the
Palace Peeper (producing it). See here--"Another Royal
Scandal," by Junius Junior. "How long is this to last?"
by
Senex Senior. "Ribald Royalty," by Mercury Major.
"Where
is the Public Exploder?" by Mephistopheles Minor. When
I
reflect that all these outrageous attacks on my morality
are
written by me, at your command--well, it's one of the
funniest
things that have come within the scope of my
experience.
Scaphio: Besides, apart from that, they have a quiet humor of
their
own which is simply irresistible.
King: (gratified) Not bad, I think. Biting, trenchant
sarcasm--the rapier, not the bludgeon--that's my line.
But
then it's so easy--I'm such a good subject--a bad King
but a
good Subject--ha! ha!--a capital heading for next week's
leading article! (makes a note) And then the stinging
little paragraphs about our Royal goings-on with our
Royal
Second Housemaid--delicately sub-acid, are they not?
Scaphio: My dear King, in that kind of thing no one can hold a
candle
to you.
Phantis: But the crowning joke is the Comic Opera you've written
for
us--"King Tuppence, or A Good Deal Less than Half a
Sovereign"--
in which the celebrated English tenor, Mr.
Wilkinson,
burlesques your personal appearance and gives grotesque
imitations of your Royal peculiarities. It's immense!
King: Ye--es--That's what I wanted to speak to you about. Now
I've not the least doubt but that even that has its
humorous
side too--if one could only see it. As a rule I'm pretty
quick at detecting latent humor--but I confess I do not
quite see where it comes in, in this particular instance.
It's so horribly personal!
Scaphio: Personal? Yes, of course it's personal--but consider the
antithetical humor of the situation.
King: Yes. I--I don't think I've quite grasped that.
Scaphio: No? You surprise me. Why, consider. During the day
thousands
tremble at your frown, during the night (from 8 to
11)
thousands roar at it. During the day your most arbitrary
pronouncements are received by your subjects with abject
submission--during the night, they shout with joy at your
most terrible decrees. It's not every monarch who enjoys
the privilege of undoing by night all the despotic
absurdities
he's committed during the day.
King: Of course! Now I see it! Thank you very much. I was
sure
it had its humorous side, and it was very dull of me not
to
have seen it before. But, as I said just now, it's a
quaint
world.
Phantis: Teems with quiet fun.
King: Yes. Properly considered, what a farce life is, to be
sure!
SONG -- King.
First you're born--and I'll be bound you
Find a dozen strangers round you.
"Hallo," cries the new-born baby,
"Where's my parents? which may they be?"
Awkward silence--no reply--
Puzzled baby wonders why!
Father rises, bows politely--
Mother smiles (but not too brightly)--
Doctor mumbles like a dumb thing--
Nurse is busy mixing something.--
Every symptom tends to show
You're decidedly de trop--
All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Time's teetotum,
If you spin it,
Gives it quotum
Once a minute.
I'll go bail
You hit the nail,
And if you fail,
The deuce is in it!
King: You grow up and you discover
What it is to be a lover.
Some young lady is selected--
Poor, perhaps, but well-connected.
Whom you hail (for Love is blind)
As the Queen of fairy kind.
Though she's plain--perhaps unsightly,
Makes her face up--laces tightly,
In her form your fancy traces
All the gifts of all the graces.
Rivals none the maiden woo,
So you take her and she takes you.
All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Joke beginning,
Never ceases
Till your inning
Time releases,
On your way
You blindly stray,
And day by day
The joke increases!
King: Ten years later--Time progresses--
Sours your temper--thins your tresses;
Fancy, then, her chain relaxes;
Rates are facts and so are taxes.
Fairy Queen's no longer young--
Fairy Queen has got a tongue.
Twins have probably intruded--
Quite unbidden--just as you did--
They're a source of care and trouble--
Just as you were--only double.
Comes at last the final stroke--
Time has had its little joke!
All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Daily driven
(Wife as drover)
Ill you've thriven--
Ne'er in clover;
Lastly, when
Three-score and ten
(And not till then),
The joke is over!
Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Then--and then
The joke is over!
(Exeunt Scaphio and
Phantis.)
King: (putting on his crown again) It's all very well. I
always
like to look on the humorous side of things; but I do not
think I ought to be required to write libels on my own
moral
character. Naturally, I see the joke of it--anybody
would--but Zara's coming home today; she's no longer a
child, and I confess I should not like her to see my
Opera--though it's uncommonly well written; and I should
be
sorry if the Palace Peeper got into her hands--though
it's
certainly smart--very smart indeed. It is almost a pity
that I have to buy up the whole edition, because it's
really
too good to be lost. And Lady Sophy--that blameless type
of
perfect womanhood! Great Heavens, what would she say if
the
Second Housemaid business happened to meet her pure blue
eye! (Enter Lady Sophy)
Lady S.: My monarch is soliloquizing. I will withdraw. (going)
King: No--pray don't go. Now I'll give you fifty chances, and
you
won't guess whom I was thinking of.
Lady S.: Alas, sir, I know too well. Ah! King, it's an old, old
story, and I'm wellnigh weary of it! Be warned in
time--from my heart I pity you, but I am not for you!
(going)
King: But hear what I have to say.
Lady S.: It is useless. Listen. In the course of a long and
adventurous
career in the principal European Courts, it has
been
revealed to me that I unconsciously exercise a weird and
supernatural fascination over all Crowned Heads. So
irresistible
is this singular property, that there is not a
European Monarch who has not implored me, with tears in
his
eyes, to quit his kingdom, and take my fatal charms elsewhere.
As time was getting on it occurred to me that by
descending several pegs in the scale of Respectability I
might qualify your Majesty for my hand. Actuated by this
humane motive and happening to possess Respectability
enough
for Six, I consented to confer Respectability enough for
Four upon your two younger daughters--but although I
have,
alas, only Respectability enough for Two left, there is
still, as I gather from the public press of this country
(producing the Palace Peeper), a considerable balance in
my
favor.
King: (aside) Damn! (aloud) May I ask how you came by this?
Lady S.: It was handed to me by the officer who holds the position
of
Public Exploder to your Imperial Majesty.
King: And surely, Lady Sophy, surely you are not so unjust as
to
place any faith in the irresponsible gabble of the
Society
press!
Lady S.: (referring to paper) I read on the authority of Senex
Senior that your Majesty was seen dancing with your
Second
Housemaid on the Oriental Platform of the Tivoli Gardens.
That is untrue?
King: Absolutely. Our Second Housemaid has only one leg.
Lady S.: (suspiciously) How do you know that?
King: Common report. I give you my honor.
Lady S.: It may be so. I further read--and the statement is
vouched
for by no less an authority that Mephistopheles
Minor--that
your Majesty indulges in a bath of hot rum-punch every
morning. I trust I do not lay myself open to the charge
of
displaying an indelicate curiosity as to the mysteries of
the royal dressing-room when I ask if there is any
foundation
for this statement?
King: None whatever. When our medical adviser exhibits
rum-punch
it is as a draught, not as a fomentation. As to our
bath,
our valet plays the garden hose upon us every morning.
Lady S.: (shocked) Oh, pray--pray spare me these unseemly
details.
Well, you are a Despot--have you taken steps to slay this
scribbler?
King: Well, no--I have not gone so far as that. After all,
it's
the poor devil's living, you know.
Lady S.: It is the poor devil's living that surprises me. If this
man lies, there is no recognized punishment that is
sufficiently
terrible for him.
King: That's precisely it. I--I am waiting until a punishment
is
discovered that will exactly meet the enormity of the
case.
I am in constant communication with the Mikado of Japan,
who
is a leading authority on such points; and, moreover, I
have
the ground plans and sectional elevations of several
capital
punishments in my desk at this moment. Oh, Lady Sophy,
as
you are powerful, be merciful!
DUET -- King and Lady Sophy.
King: Subjected to your heavenly gaze
(Poetical phrase),
My brain is turned completely.
Observe me now
No monarch I vow,
Was ever so afflicted!
Lady S: I'm pleased with that poetical phrase,
"A heavenly gaze,"
But though you put it neatly,
Say what you will,
These paragraphs still
Remain uncontradicted.
Come, crush me this contemptible worm
(A forcible term),
If he's assailed you wrongly.
The rage display,
Which, as you say,
Has moved your Majesty lately.
King: Though I admit that forcible term
"Contemptible worm,"
Appeals to me most strongly,
To treat this pest
As you suggest
Would pain my Majesty greatly.
Lady S: This writer lies!
King: Yes, bother his eyes!
Lady S: He lives, you say?
King: In a sort of way.
Lady S: Then have him shot.
King: Decidedly not.
Lady S: Or crush him flat.
King: I cannot do that.
Both: O royal Rex,
My/her blameless sex
Abhors such conduct shady.
You/I plead in vain,
I/you will never gain
Respectable English lady!
(Dance of repudiation by Lady Sophy. Exit followed by
King.)
March. Enter all the Court, heralding the arrival of the Princess
Zara,
who enters, escorted by Captain Fitzbattleaxe and four
Troopers, all
in the full uniform of the First Life Guards.
CHORUS.
Oh, maiden, rich
In Girton lore
That wisdom which,
We prized before,
We do confess
Is nothingness,
And rather less,
Perhaps, than more.
On each of us
Thy learning shed.
On calculus
May we be fed.
And teach us, please,
To speak with ease,
All languages,
Alive and dead!
SOLO--Princess and Chorus
Zara: Five years have flown since I took wing--
Time flies, and his footstep ne'er retards--
I'm the eldest daughter of your King.
Troop: And we are her escort--First Life Guards!
On the royal yacht,
When the waves were white,
In a helmet hot
And a tunic tight,
And our great big boots,
We defied the storm;
For we're not recruits,
And his uniform
A well drilled trooper ne'er discards--
And we are her escort--First Life Guards!
Zara: These gentlemen I present to you,
The pride and boast of their barrack-yards;
They've taken, O! such care of me!
Troop: For we are her escort--First Life Guards!
When the tempest rose,
And the ship went so--
Do you suppose
We were ill? No, no!
Though a qualmish lot
In a tunic tight,
And a helmet hot,
And a breastplate bright
(Which a well-drilled trooper ne'er discards),
We stood as her escort--First Life Guards!
CHORUS
Knightsbridge nursemaids--serving fairies--
Stars of proud Belgravian airies;
At stern duty's call you leave them,
Though you know how that must grieve them!
Zara: Tantantarara-rara-rara!
Fitz: Trumpet-call of Princess Zara!
Cho: That's trump-call, and they're all trump cards--
They are her escort--First Life Guards!
ENSEMBLE
Chorus Princess Zara and
Fitzbattleaxe
Ladies Oh! the hours are gold,
And the joys untold,
Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. When my eyes behold
My beloved Princess;
Men And the years will seem
When the tempest rose, etc. But a brief day-dream,
In the joy extreme
Of our happiness!
Full Chorus: Knightsbridge nursemaids, serving fairies, etc.
(Enter King, Princess Nekaya and Kalyba, and Lady Sophy. As the
King enters,
the escort present arms.)
King: Zara! my beloved daughter! Why, how well you look and
how
lovely you have grown! (embraces her.)
Zara: My dear father! (embracing him) And my two beautiful
little sisters! (embracing them)
Nekaya: Not beautiful.
Kalyba: Nice-looking.
Zara: But first let me present to you the English warrior who
commands my escort, and who has taken, O! such care of me
during my voyage--Captain Fitzbattleaxe!
Troopers: The First Life Guards.
When the tempest rose,
And the ship went so--
(Captain Fitzbattleaxe motions them to be silent. The Troopers
place
themselves in the four corners of the stage, standing at ease,
immovably, as if on sentry. Each is surrounded by an admiring
group of young ladies, of whom they take no notice.)
King: (to Capt. Fitz.) Sir, you come from a country where
every
virtue flourishes. We trust that you will not criticize
too
severely such shortcomings as you may detect in our
semi-barbarous society.
Fitz.: (looking at Zara) Sir, I have eyes for nothing but the
blameless and the beautiful.
King: We thank you--he is really very polite! (Lady Sophy, who
has
been greatly scandalized by the attentions paid to the
Lifeguardsmen by the young ladies, marches the Princesses
Nekaya and Kalyba towards an exit.) Lady Sophy, do not
leave
us.
Lady S.: Sir, your children are young, and, so far, innocent. If
they are to remain so, it is necessary that they be at
once
removed from the contamination of their present
disgraceful
surroundings. (She marches them off.)
King: (whose attention has thus been called to the proceedings
of
the young ladies--aside) Dear, dear! They really
shouldn't.
(Aloud) Captain Fitzbattleaxe--
Fitz.: Sir.
King: Your Troopers appear to be receiving a troublesome amount
of
attention from those young ladies. I know how strict you
English soldiers are, and I should be extremely
distressed
if anything occurred to shock their puritanical British
sensitiveness.
Fitz.: Oh, I don't think there's any chance of that.
King: You think not? They won't be offended?
Fitz.: Oh no! They are quite hardened to it. They get a good
deal
of that sort of thing, standing sentry at the Horse
Guards.
King: It's English, is it?
Fitz.: It's particularly English.
King: Then, of course, it's all right. Pray proceed, ladies,
it's
particularly English. Come, my daughter, for we have
much
to say to each other.
Zara: Farewell, Captain Fitzbattleaxe! I cannot thank you too
emphatically
for the devoted care with which you have
watched
over me during our long and eventful voyage.
DUET -- Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe.
Zara: Ah! gallant soldier, brave and true
In tented field and tourney,
I grieve to have occasioned you
So very long a journey.
A British warrior give up all--
His home and island beauty--
When summoned to the trumpet call
Of Regimental Duty!
Cho: Tantantara-rara-rara!
Trumpet call of the Princess Zara!
ENSEMBLE
Men Fitz. and Zara (aside)
A British warrior gives up all, etc. Oh my joy, my pride,
My delight to hide,
Let us sing, aside,
Ladies What in truth we feel,
Let us whisper low
Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. Of our love's glad glow,
Lest the truth we show
We would fain conceal.
Fitz.: Such escort duty, as his due,
To young Lifeguardsman falling
Completely reconciles him to
His uneventful calling.
When soldier seeks Utopian glades
In charge of Youth and Beauty,
Then pleasure merely masquerades
As Regimental Duty!
All: Tantantarara-rara-rara!
Trumpet-call of Princess Zara!
ENSEMBLE
Men Fitz. and Zara (aside)
A British warrior gives up all, etc. Oh! my hours are gold,
And the joys untold,
When my eyes behold
Ladies My beloved Princess;
And the years will seem
Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. But a brief day-dream,
In the job extreme
Of our happiness!
(Exeunt King and Zara in one direction, Lifeguardsmen and crowd in
opposite direction. Enter, at back, Scaphio and Phantis, who
watch
Zara as she goes off. Scaphio is seated, shaking violently,
and
obviously under the influence of some strong emotion.)
Phantis: There--tell me, Scaphio, is she not beautiful? Can you
wonder that I love her so passionately?
Scaphio: No. She is extraordinarily--miraculously lovely! Good
heavens, what a singularly beautiful girl!
Phantis: I knew you would say so!
Scaphio: What exquisite charm of manner! What surprising delicacy
of
gesture! Why, she's a goddess! a very goddess!
Phantis: (rather taken aback) Yes--she's--she's an attractive
girl.
Scaphio: Attractive? Why, you must be blind!--She's
entrancing--enthralling--intoxicating! (Aside) God
bless
my heart, what's the matter with me?
Phantis: (alarmed) Yes. You--you promised to help me to get her
father's consent, you know.
Scaphio: Promised! Yes, but the convulsion has come, my good boy!
It is she--my ideal! Why, what's this? (Staggering)
Phantis! Stop me--I'm going mad--mad with the love of
her!
Phantis: Scaphio, compose yourself, I beg. The girl is perfectly
opaque! Besides, remember--each of us is helpless
without
the other. You can't succeed without my consent, you
know.
Scaphio: And you dare to threaten? Oh, ungrateful! When you came
to
me, palsied with love for this girl, and implored my
assistance,
did I not unhesitatingly promise it? And this is
the
return you make? Out of my sight, ingrate! (Aside)
Dear!
dear! what is the matter with me? (Enter Capt.
Fitzbattleaxe
and Zara)
Zara: Dear me. I'm afraid we are interrupting a tete-a-tete.
Scaphio: (breathlessly) No, no. You come very appropriately. To
be
brief, we--we love you--this man and
I--madly--passionately!
Zara: Sir!
Scaphio: And we don't know how we are to settle which of us is to
marry you.
Fitz.: Zara, this is very awkward.
Scaphio: (very much overcome) I--I am paralyzed by the singular
radiance of your extraordinary loveliness. I know I am
incoherent. I never was like this before--it shall not
occur again. I--shall be fluent, presently.
Zara: (aside) Oh, dear, Captain Fitzbattleaxe, what is to be
done?
Fitz.: (aside) Leave it to me--I'll manage it. (Aloud) It's
a
common situation. Why not settle it in the English
fashion?
Both: The English fashion? What is that?
Fitz.: It's very simple. In England, when two gentlemen are in
love with the same lady, and until it is settled which
gentleman is to blow out the brains of the other, it is
provided, by the Rival Admirers' Clauses Consolidation
Act,
that the lady shall be entrusted to an officer of
Household
Cavalry as stakeholder, who is bound to hand her over to
the
survivor (on the Tontine principle) in a good condition
of
substantial and decorative repair.
Scaphio: Reasonable wear and tear and damages by fire excepted?
Fitz.: Exactly.
Phantis: Well, that seems very reasonable. (To Scaphio) What do
you
say--Shall we entrust her to this officer of Household
Cavalry? It will give us time.
Scaphio: (trembling violently) I--I am not at present in a
condition
to think it out coolly--but if he is an officer of
Household
Cavalry, and if the Princess consents---
Zara: Alas, dear sirs, I have no alternative--under the Rival
Admirers' Clauses Consolidation Act!
Fitz.: Good--then that's settled.
QUARTET
Fitzbattleaxe, Zara, Scaphio, and Phantis.
Fitz.: It's understood, I think, all round
That, by the English custom bound
I hold the lady safe and sound
In trust for either rival,
Until you clearly testify
By sword and pistol, by and by,
Which gentleman prefers to die,
And which prefers survival.
ENSEMBLE
Sca. and Phan. Zara and Fitz
Its clearly understood all round We stand, I think, on safish
ground
That, by your English custom bound Our senses weak it will
astound
He holds the lady safe and sound If either gentleman is found
In trust for either rival, Prepared to meet his rival.
Until we clearly testify Their machinations we defy;
By sword or pistol, by and by We won't be parted, you and
I--
Which gentleman prefers to die, Of bloodshed each is rather
shy--
Which prefers survival. They both prefer survival
Phan.: If I should die and he should live
(aside to Fitz.) To you, without reserve, I give
Her heart so young and sensitive,
And all her predilections.
Sca.: If he should live and I should die,
(aside to Fitz.) I see no kind of reason why
You should not, if you wish it, try
To gain her young affections.
ENSEMBLE
Sca. and Phant. Fitz and Zara
If I should die and you should live As both of us are positive
To this young officer I give That both of them intend to
live,
Her heart so soft and sensitive, There's nothing in the case to
give
And all her predilections. Us cause for grave
reflections.
If you should live and I should die As both will live and neither
die
I see no kind of reason why I see no kind of reason why
He should not, if he chooses, try I should not, if I wish it,
try
To win her young affections. To gain your young
affections!
(Exit Scaphio and Phantis
together)
DUET -- Zara and Fitzbattleaxe
Ensemble: Oh admirable art!
Oh, neatly-planned intention!
Oh, happy intervention--
Oh, well constructed plot!
When sages try to part
Two loving hearts in fusion,
Their wisdom's delusion,
And learning serves them not!
Fitz.: Until quit plain
Is their intent,
These sages twain
I represent.
Now please infer
That, nothing loth,
You're henceforth, as it were,
Engaged to marry both--
Then take it that I represent the two--
On that hypothesis, what would you do?
Zara. (aside): What would I do? what would I do?
(To Fitz.) In such a case,
Upon your breast,
My blushing face
I think I'd rest--(doing so)
Then perhaps I might
Demurely say--
"I find this breastplate bright
Is sorely in the way!"
Fitz.: Our mortal race
Is never blest--
There's no such case
As perfect rest;
Some petty blight
Asserts its sway--
Some crumbled roseleaf light
Is always in the way!
(Exit Fitzbattleaxe. Manet
Zara.)
(Enter King.)
King: My daughter! At last we are alone together.
Zara: Yes, and I'm glad we are, for I want to speak to you very
seriously. Do you know this paper?
King: (aside) Da--! (Aloud) Oh yes--I've--I've seen it.
Where
in the world did you get this from?
Zara: It was given to me by Lady Sophy--my sisters' governess.
King: (aside) Lady Sophy's an angel, but I do sometimes wish
she'd mind her own business! (Aloud) It's--ha!
ha!--it's
rather humorous.
Zara: I see nothing humorous in it. I only see that you, the
despotic
King of this country, are made the subject of the
most
scandalous insinuations. Why do you permit these things?
King: Well, they appeal to my sense of humor. It's the only
really comic paper in Utopia, and I wouldn't be without
it
for the world.
Zara: If it had any literary merit I could understand it.
King: Oh, it has literary merit. Oh, distinctly, it has
literary
merit.
Zara: My dear father, it's mere ungrammatical twaddle.
King: Oh, it's not ungrammatical. I can't allow that.
Unpleasantly
personal, perhaps, but written with an
epigrammatical
point that is very rare nowadays--very rare indeed.
Zara: (looking at cartoon) Why do they represent you with such
a
big nose?
King: (looking at cartoon) Eh? Yes, it is a big one! Why,
the
fact is that, in the cartoons of a comic paper, the size
of
your nose always varies inversely as the square of your
popularity. It's the rule.
Zara: Then you must be at a tremendous discount just now! I
see a
notice of a new piece called "King Tuppence," in which an
English tenor has the audacity to personate you on a
public
stage. I can only say that I am surprised that any
English
tenor should lend himself to such degrading
personalities.
King: Oh, he's not really English. As it happens he's a
Utopian,
but he calls himself English.
Zara: Calls himself English?
King: Yes. Bless you, they wouldn't listen to any tenor who
didn't call himself English.
Zara: And you permit this insolent buffoon to caricature you in
a
pointless burlesque! My dear father--if you were a free
agent, you would never permit these outrages.
King: (almost in tears) Zara--I--I admit I am not altogether
a
free agent. I--I am controlled. I try to make the best
of
it, but sometimes I find it very difficult--very
difficult
indeed. Nominally a Despot, I am, between ourselves, the
helpless tool of two unscrupulous Wise Men, who insist on
my
falling in with all their wishes and threaten to denounce
me
for immediate explosion if I remonstrate! (Breaks down
completely)
Zara: My poor father! Now listen to me. With a view to
remodelling
the political and social institutions of Utopia, I
have
brought with me six Representatives of the principal
causes
that have tended to make England the powerful, happy, and
blameless country which the consensus of European
civilization
has declared it to be. Place yourself unreservedly
in
the hands of these gentlemen, and they will reorganize
your
country on a footing that will enable you to defy your
persecutors. They are all now washing their hands after
their journey. Shall I introduce them?
King: My dear Zara, how can I thank you? I will consent to
anything
that will release me from the abominable tyranny of
these two men. (Calling) What ho! Without there!
(Enter
Calynx) Summon my Court without an instant's delay!
(Exit
Calynx)
FINALE
Enter every one, except the Flowers of Progress.
CHORUS
Although your Royal summons to appear
From courtesy was singularly free,
Obedient to that summons we are here--
What would your Majesty?
RECITATIVE -- King
My worthy people, my beloved daughter
Most thoughtfully has brought with her from England
The types of all the causes that have made
That great and glorious country what it is.
Chorus: Oh, joy unbounded!
Sca., Tar., Phan (aside). Why, what does this mean?
RECITATIVE -- Zara
Attend to me, Utopian populace,
Ye South Pacific island viviparians;
All, in the abstract, types of courtly grace,
Yet, when compared with Britain's glorious race,
But little better than half clothed Barbarians!
CHORUS
Yes! Contrasted when
With Englishmen,
Are little better than half-clothed barbarians!
Enter all the Flowers of Progress, led by Fitzbattleaxe.
SOLOS -- Zara and the Flowers of Progress.
(Presenting Captain Fitzbattleaxe)
When Britain sounds the trump of war
(And Europe trembles),
The army of the conqueror
In serried ranks assemble;
'Tis then this warrior's eyes and sabre gleam
For our protection--
He represents a military scheme
In all its proud perfection!
Chorus: Yes--yes
He represents a military scheme
In all its proud perfection.
Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
SOLO -- Zara.
(Presenting Sir Bailey Barre, Q.C., M.P.)
A complicated gentleman allow to present,
Of all the arts and faculties the terse embodiment,
He's a great arithmetician who can demonstrate with ease
That two and two are three or five or anything you please;
An eminent Logician who can make it clear to you
That black is white--when looked at from the proper point
of
view;
A marvelous Philologist who'll undertake to show
That "yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."
Sir Bailey: Yes--yes--yes--
"Yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."
All preconceived ideas on any subject I can scout,
And demonstrate beyond all possibility of doubt,
That whether you're an honest man or whether you're a thief
Depends on whose solicitor has given me my brief.
Chorus: Yes--yes--yes
That whether your'e an honest man, etc.
Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
Zara: (Presenting Lord Dramaleigh and County Councillor)
What these may be, Utopians all,
Perhaps you'll hardly guess--
They're types of England's physical
And moral cleanliness.
This is a Lord High Chamberlain,
Of purity the gauge--
He'll cleanse our court from moral stain
And purify our Stage.
Lord D.: Yes--yes--yes
Court reputations I revise,
And presentations scrutinize,
New plays I read with jealous eyes,
And purify the Stage.
Chorus: Court reputations, etc.
Zara: This County Councillor acclaim,
Great Britain's latest toy--
On anything you like to name
His talents he'll employ--
All streets and squares he'll purify
Within your city walls,
And keep meanwhile a modest eye
On wicked music halls.
C.C.: Yes--yes--yes
In towns I make improvements great,
Which go to swell the County Rate--
I dwelling-houses sanitate,
And purify the Halls!
Chorus: In towns he makes improvements great, etc.
Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
SOLO -- Zara:
(Presenting Mr. Goldbury)
A Company Promoter this with special education,
Which teaches what Contango means and also Backwardation--
To speculators he supplies a grand financial leaven,
Time was when two were company--but now it must be seven.
Mr. Gold.: Yes--yes--yes
Stupendous loans to foreign thrones
I've largely advocated;
In ginger-pops and peppermint-drops
I've freely speculated;
Then mines of gold, of wealth untold,
Successfully I've floated
And sudden falls in apple-stalls
Occasionally quoted.
And soon or late I always call
For Stock Exchange quotation--
No schemes too great and none too small
For Companification!
Chorus: Yes! Yes! Yes! No schemes too great, etc.
Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
Zara: (Presenting Capt. Sir Edward Corcoran, R.N.)
And lastly I present
Great Britain's proudest boast,
Who from the blows
Of foreign foes
Protects her sea-girt coast--
And if you ask him in respectful tone,
He'll show you how you may protect your own!
SOLO -- Captain Corcoran
I'm Captain Corcoran, K.C.B.,
I'll teach you how we rule the sea,
And terrify the simple Gauls;
And how the Saxon and the Celt
Their Europe-shaking blows have dealt
With Maxim gun and Nordenfelt
(Or will when the occasion calls).
If sailor-like you'd play your cards,
Unbend your sails and lower your yards,
Unstep your masts--you'll never want 'em more.
Though we're no longer hearts of oak,
Yet we can steer and we can stoke,
And thanks to coal, and thanks to coke,
We never run a ship ashore!
All: What never?
Capt.: No, never!
All: What never?
Capt: Hardly ever!
All: Hardly ever run a ship ashore!
Then give three cheers, and three cheers more,
For the tar who never runs his ship ashore;
Then give three cheers, and three cheers more,
For he never runs his ship ashore!
CHORUS
All hail, ye types of England's power--
Ye heaven-enlightened band!
We bless the day and bless the hour
That brought you to our land.
QUARTET
Ye wanderers from a mighty State,
Oh, teach us how to legislate--
Your lightest word will carry weight,
In our attentive ears.
Oh, teach the natives of this land
(Who are not quick to understand)
How to work off their social and
Political arrears!
Capt. Fitz.: Increase your army!
Lord D.: Purify your court!
Capt. Corc: Get up your steam and cut your canvas short!
Sir B.: To speak on both sides teach your sluggish brains!
Mr. B.: Widen your thoroughfares, and flush your drains!
Mr. Gold.: Utopia's much too big for one small head--
I'll float it as a Company Limited!
King: A Company Limited? What may that be?
The term, I rather think, is new to me.
Chorus: A company limited? etc.
Sca, Phant, and Tara (Aside)
What does he mean? What does he mean?
Give us a kind of clue!
What does he mean? What does he mean?
What is he going to do?
SONG -- Mr. Goldbury
Some seven men form an Association
(If possible, all Peers and Baronets),
The start off with a public declaration
To what extent they mean to pay their debts.
That's called their Capital; if they are wary
They will not quote it at a sum immense.
The figure's immaterial--it may vary
From eighteen million down to eighteenpence.
I should put it rather low;
The good sense of doing so
Will be evident at once to any debtor.
When it's left to you to say
What amount you mean to pay,
Why, the lower you can put it at, the better.
Chorus: When it's left to you to say, etc.
They then proceed to trade with all who'll trust 'em
Quite irrespective of their capital
(It's shady, but it's sanctified by custom);
Bank, Railway, Loan, or Panama Canal.
You can't embark on trading too tremendous--
It's strictly fair, and based on common sense--
If you succeed, your profits are stupendous--
And if you fail, pop goes your eighteenpence.
Make the money-spinner spin!
For you only stand to win,
And you'll never with dishonesty be twitted.
For nobody can know,
To a million or so,
To what extent your capital's committed!
Chorus: No, nobody can know, etc.
If you come to grief, and creditors are craving
(For nothing that is planned by mortal head
Is certain in this Vale of Sorrow--saving
That one's Liability is Limited),--
Do you suppose that signifies perdition?
If so, you're but a monetary dunce--
You merely file a Winding-Up Petition,
And start another Company at once!
Though a Rothschild you may be
In your own capacity,
As a Company you've come to utter sorrow--
But the Liquidators say,
"Never mind--you needn't pay,"
So you start another company to-morrow!
Chorus: But the liquidators say, etc.
King: Well, at first sight it strikes us as dishonest,
But if its's good enough for virtuous England--
The first commercial country in the world--
It's good enough for us.
Sca., Phan., Tar. (aside to the King)
You'd best take care--
Please recollect we have not been consulted.
King: And do I understand that Great Britain
Upon this Joint Stock principle is governed?
Mr. G.: We haven't come to that, exactly--but
We're tending rapidly in that direction.
The date's not distant.
King: (enthusiastically) We will be before you!
We'll go down in posterity renowned
As the First Sovereign in Christendom
Who registered his Crown and Country under
The Joint Stock Company's Act of Sixty-Two.
All: Ulahlica!
SOLO -- King
Henceforward, of a verity,
With Fame ourselves we link--
We'll go down to Posterity
Of sovereigns all the pink!
Sca., Phan., Tar.: (aside to King)
If you've the mad temerity
Our wishes thus to blink,
You'll go down to Posterity,
Much earlier than you think!
Tar.: (correcting them)
He'll go up to Posterity,
If I inflict the blow!
Sca., Phan.: (angrily)
He'll go down to Posterity--
We think we ought to know!
Tar.: (explaining) He'll go up to Posterity,
Blown up with dynamite!
Sca., Phan.: (apologetically)
He'll go up to Posterity,
Of course he will, you're right!
ENSEMBLE
King, Lady Sophy, Nek., Sca., Phan, and Tar Fitz. and
Zara (aside)
Kal., Calynx and Chorus (aside)
Henceforward of a verity, If he has the temerity Who love
with all sincerity;
With fame ourselves we Our wishes thus to blink Their
lives may safely link.
link--
And go down to Posterity, He'll go up to Posterity And as for
our posterity
Of sovereigns all pink! Much earlier than they We don't
care what they think!
think!
CHORUS
Let's seal this mercantile pact--
The step we ne'er shall rue--
It gives whatever we lacked--
The statement's strictly true.
All hail, astonishing Fact!
All hail, Invention new--
The Joint Stock Company's Act--
The Act of Sixty-Two!
END OF ACT I
ACT II
Scene -- Throne Room in the Palace. Night. Fitzbattleaxe
discovered,
singing to Zara.
RECITATIVE -- Fitzbattleaxe.
Oh, Zara, my beloved one, bear with me!
Ah, do not laugh at my attempted C!
Repent not, mocking maid, thy girlhood's choice--
The fervour of my love affects my voice!
SONG -- Fitzbattleaxe.
A tenor, all singers above
(This doesn't admit of a question),
Should keep himself quiet,
Attend to his diet
And carefully nurse his digestion;
But when he is madly in love
It's certain to tell on his singing--
You can't do the proper chromatics
With proper emphatics
When anguish your bosom is wringing!
When distracted with worries in plenty,
And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,
And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice,
Now observe--(sings a high note),
You see, I can't do myself justice!
I could sing if my fervour were mock,
It's easy enough if you're acting--
But when one's emotion
Is born of devotion
You mustn't be over-exacting.
One ought to be firm as a rock
To venture a shake in vibrato,
When fervour's expected
Keep cool and collected
Or never attempt agitato.
But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,
And his lips appear pasted together,
And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe--(sings a high note),
It's no use--I can't do myself justice!
Zara: Why, Arthur, what does it matter? When the higher
qualities
of the heart are all that can be desired, the higher
notes
of the voice are matters of comparative insignificance.
Who
thinks slightingly of the cocoanut because it is husky?
Besides
(demurely), you are not singing for an engagement
(putting her hand in his), you have that already!
Fitz.: How good and wise you are! How unerringly your practiced
brain winnows the wheat from the chaff--the material from
the merely incidental!
Zara: My Girton training, Arthur. At Girton all is wheat, and
idle chaff is never heard within its walls! But tell me,
is
not all working marvelously well? Have not our Flowers
of
Progress more than justified their name?
Fitz.: We have indeed done our best. Captain Corcoran and I
have,
in concert, thoroughly remodeled the sister-services--and
upon so sound a basis that the South Pacific trembles at
the
name of Utopia!
Zara: How clever of you!
Fitz.: Clever? Not a bit. It's easy as possible when the
Admiralty
and Horse Guards are not there to interfere. And so
with
the others. Freed from the trammels imposed upon them by
idle Acts of Parliament, all have given their natural
talents
full play and introduced reforms which, even in England,
were never dreamt of!
Zara: But perhaps the most beneficent changes of all has been
effected
by Mr. Goldbury, who, discarding the exploded
theory
that some strange magic lies hidden in the number Seven,
has
applied the Limited Liability principle to individuals,
and
every man, woman, and child is now a Company Limited with
liability restricted to the amount of his declared
Capital!
There is not a christened baby in Utopia who has not
already
issued his little Prospectus!
Fitz.: Marvelous is the power of a Civilization which can transmute,
by a word, a Limited Income into an Income Limited.
Zara: Reform has not stopped here--it has been applied even to
the
costume of our people. Discarding their own barbaric
dress,
the natives of our land have unanimously adopted the
tasteful
fashions of England in all their rich entirety.
Scaphio
and Phantis have undertaken a contract to supply the
whole
of Utopia with clothing designed upon the most approved
English models--and the first Drawing-Room under the new
state of things is to be held here this evening.
Fitz.: But Drawing-Rooms are always held in the afternoon.
Zara: Ah, we've improved upon that. We all look so much better
by
candlelight! And when I tell you, dearest, that my Court
train has just arrived, you will understand that I am
longing
to go and try it on.
Fitz.: Then we must part?
Zara: Necessarily, for a time.
Fitz.: Just as I wanted to tell you, with all the passionate
enthusiasm
of my nature, how deeply, how devotedly I love you!
Zara: Hush! Are these the accents of a heart that really
feels?
True love does not indulge in declamation--its voice is
sweet, and soft, and low. The west wind whispers when he
woos the poplars!
DUET -- Zara and Fitzbattleaxe.
Zara: Words of love too loudly spoken
Ring their own untimely knell;
Noisy vows are rudely broken,
Soft the song of Philomel.
Whisper sweetly, whisper slowly,
Hour by hour and day by day;
Sweet and low as accents holy
Are the notes of lover's lay.
Both: Sweet and low, etc.
Fitz: Let the conqueror, flushed with glory,
Bid his noisy clarions bray;
Lovers tell their artless story
In a whispered virelay.
False is he whose vows alluring
Make the listening echoes ring;
Sweet and low when all-enduring
Are the songs that lovers sing!
Both: Sweet and low, etc.
(Exit Zara. Enter King dressed as Field-Marshal.)
King: To a Monarch who has been accustomed to the uncontrolled
use
of his limbs, the costume of a British Field-Marshal is,
perhaps, at first, a little cramping. Are you sure that
this is all right? It's not a practical joke, is it? No
one has a keener sense of humor than I have, but the
First
Statutory Cabinet Council of Utopia Limited must be
conducted
with dignity and impressiveness. Now, where are the
other five who signed the Articles of Association?
Fitz.: Sir, they are here.
(Enter Lord Dramaleigh, Captain Corcoran, Sir Bailey Barre, Mr.
Blushington, and
Mr. Goldbury from different entrances.)
King: Oh! (Addressing them) Gentlemen, our daughter holds her
first Drawing-Room in half an hour, and we shall have
time
to make our half-yearly report in the interval. I am
necessarily
unfamiliar with the forms of an English Cabinet
Council--perhaps the Lord Chamberlain will kindly put us
in
the way of doing the thing properly, and with due regard
to
the solemnity of the occasion.
Lord D.: Certainly--nothing simpler. Kindly bring your chairs
forward--His Majesty will, of course, preside.
(They range their chairs across stage like Christy Minstrels. King
sits center, Lord Dramaleigh on his left, Mr. Goldbury on his
right,
Captain Corcoran left of Lord Dramaleigh, Captain
Fitzbattleaxe right of
Mr. Goldbury, Mr. Blushington extreme right, Sir Bailey Barre
extreme
left.)
King: Like this?
Lord D.: Like this.
King: We take your word for it that this is all right. You are
not making fun of us? This is in accordance with the
practice
at the Court of St. James's?
Lord D.: Well, it is in accordance with the practice at the Court
of
St. James's Hall.
King: Oh! it seems odd, but never mind.
SONG -- King.
Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses.
Which empties our police courts, and abolishes divorces.
Chorus: Divorce is nearly obsolete in England.
King: No tolerance we show to undeserving rank and splendour;
For the higher his position is, the greater the offender.
Chorus: That's maxim that is prevalent in England.
King: No peeress at our drawing-room before the Presence passes
Who wouldn't be accepted by the lower middle-classes.
Each shady dame, whatever be her rank, is bowed out
neatly.
Chorus: In short, this happy country has been Anglicized
completely
Is really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicizing
We have brought about--Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England--with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
King: Our city we have beautified--we've done it willy-nilly--
And all that isn't Belgrave Square is Strand and
Piccadilly.
Chorus: We haven't any slummeries in England!
King: The chamberlain our native stage has purged beyond a
question.
Of "risky" situation and indelicate suggestion;
No piece is tolerated if it's costumed indiscreetly--
Chorus: In short this happy country has been Anglicized completely!
It really is surprising, etc.
King: Our peerage we've remodelled on an intellectual basis,
Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races--
Chorus: We are going to remodel it in England.
King: The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seek
admission,
And literary merit meets with proper recognition--
Chorus: As literary merit does in England!
King: Who knows but we may count among our intellectual
chickens
Like you, an Earl of Thackery and p'r'aps a Duke of
Dickens--
Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais (when they come) we'll
welcome sweetly--
Chorus: In short, this happy country has been Anglicized
completely!
It really is surprising, etc.
(At the end all rise and replace their chairs.)
King: Now, then for our first Drawing-Room. Where are the
Princesses?
What an extraordinary thing it is that since
European
looking-glasses have been supplied to the Royal bedrooms
my daughters are invariably late!
Lord D.: Sir, their Royal Highnesses await your pleasure in the
Ante-room.
King: Oh. Then request them to do us the favor to enter at
once.
(Enter all the Royal Household, including (besides the Lord
Chamberlain)
the Vice-Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, the
Master
of the Buckhounds, the Lord High Treasurer, the Lord Steward,
the
Comptroller of the Household, the Lord-in-Waiting, the Field
Officer in Brigade Waiting, the Gold and Silver Stick, and the
Gentlemen Ushers. Then enter the three Princesses (their
trains
carried by Pages of Honor), Lady Sophy, and the
Ladies-in-Waiting.)
King: My daughters, we are about to attempt a very solemn
ceremonial,
so no giggling, if you please. Now, my Lord
Chamberlain,
we are ready.
Lord D.: Then, ladies and gentlemen, places, if you please. His
Majesty
will take his place in front of the throne, and will
be
so obliging as to embrace all the debutantes. (LADY
SOPHY
much shocked.)
King: What--must I really?
Lord D.: Absolutely indispensable.
King: More jam for the Palace Peeper!
(The King takes his place in front of the throne, the Princess Zara
on
his left, the two younger Princesses on the left of Zara.)
King: Now, is every one in his place?
Lord D.: Every one is in his place.
King: Then let the revels commence.
(Enter the ladies attending the Drawing-Room. They give their
cards
to the Groom-in-Waiting, who passes them to the
Lord-in-Waiting,
who passes them to the Vice-Chamberlain, who passes them to
the
Lord Chamberlain, who reads the names to the King as each lady
approaches. The ladies curtsey in succession to the King and
the
three Princesses, and pass out. When all the presentations
have
been accomplished, the King, Princesses, and Lady Sophy come
forward, and all the ladies re-enter.)
RECITATIVE -- King
This ceremonial our wish displays
To copy all Great Britain's courtly ways.
Though lofty aims catastrophe entail,
We'll gloriously succeed or nobly fail!
UNACCOMPANIED CHORUS
Eagle High in Cloudland soaring--
Sparrow twittering on a reed--
Tiger in the jungle roaring--
Frightened fawn in grassy mead--
Let the eagle, not the sparrow,
Be the object of your arrow--
Fix the tiger with your eye--
Pass the fawn in pity by.
Glory then will crown the day--
Glory, glory, anyway!
Exit
all.
Enter Scaphio and Phantis, now dressed as judges in red and ermine
robes
and undress wigs. They come down stage melodramatically --
working together.
DUET -- Scaphio and Phantis.
Sca.: With fury deep we burn
Phan.: We do--
Sca.: We fume with smothered rage--
Phan.: We do--
Sca.: These Englishmen who rule supreme,
Their undertaking they redeem
By stifling every harmless scheme
In which we both engage--
Phan.: They do--
Sca.: In which we both engage--
Phan.: We think it is our turn--
Sca.: We do--
Phan.: We think our turn has come--
Sca.: We do.
Phan.: These Englishmen, they must prepare
To seek at once their native air.
The King as heretofore, we swear,
Shall be beneath our thumb--
Sca.: He shall--
Phan.: Shall be beneath out thumb--
Sca.: He shall.
Both: (with great energy)
For this mustn't be, and this won't do.
If you'll back me, then I'll back you,
No, this won't do,
No, this mustn't be.
With fury deep we burn...
Enter the King.
King: Gentlemen, gentlemen--really! This unseemly display of
energy within the Royal precincts is altogether unpardonable.
Pray, what do you complain of?
Scaphio: (furiously) What do we complain of? Why, through the
innovations introduced by the Flowers of Progress all our
harmless schemes for making a provision for our old age
are
ruined. Our Matrimonial Agency is at a standstill, our
Cheap Sherry business is in bankruptcy, our Army Clothing
contracts are paralyzed, and even our Society paper, the
Palace Peeper, is practically defunct!
King: Defunct? Is that so? Dear, dear, I am truly sorry.
Scaphio: Are you aware that Sir Bailey Barre has introduced a law
of
libel by which all editors of scurrilous newspapers are
publicly
flogged--as in England? And six of our editors
have
resigned in succession! Now, the editor of a scurrilous
paper can stand a good deal--he takes a private thrashing
as
a matter of course--it's considered in his salary--but no
gentleman likes to be publicly flogged.
King: Naturally. I shouldn't like it myself.
Phantis: Then our Burlesque Theater is absolutely ruined!
King: Dear me. Well, theatrical property is not what it was.
Phantis: Are you aware that the Lord Chamberlain, who has his own
views as to the best means of elevating the national
drama,
has declined to license any play that is not in blank
verse
and three hundred years old--as in England?
Scaphio: And as if that wasn't enough, the County Councillor has
ordered
a four-foot wall to be built up right across the
proscenium, in case of fire--as in England.
Phantis: It's so hard on the company--who are liable to be roasted
alive--and this has to be met by enormously increased
salaries--as in England.
Scaphio: You probably know that we've contracted to supply the
entire
nation with a complete English outfit. But perhaps you
do
not know that, when we send in our bills, our customers
plead liability limited to a declared capital of
eighteenpence, and apply to be dealt with under the
Winding-up Act--as in England?
King: Really, gentlemen, this is very irregular. If you will
be
so good as to formulate a detailed list of your
grievances
in writing, addressed to the Secretary of Utopia Limited,
they will be laid before the Board, in due course, at
their
next monthly meeting.
Scaphio: Are we to understand that we are defied?
King: That is the idea I intended to convey.
Phantis: Defied! We are defied!
Scaphio: (furiously) Take care--you know our powers. Trifle with
us, and you die!
TRIO -- Scaphio, Phantis, and King.
Sca.: If you think that, when banded in unity,
We may both be defied with impunity,
You are sadly misled of a verity!
Phan.: If you value repose and tranquility,
You'll revert to a state of docility,
Or prepare to regret your temerity!
King.: If my speech is unduly refractory
You will find it a course satisfactory
At an early Board meeting to show it up.
Though if proper excuse you can trump any,
You may wind up a Limited Company,
You cannot conveniently blow it up!
(Scaphio and Phantis thoroughly baffled)
King.: (Dancing quietly)
Whene'er I chance to baffle you
I, also, dance a step or two--
Of this now guess the hidden sense:
(Scaphio and Phantis consider the question as King continues
dancing
quietly--then give it up.)
It means complete indifference!
Sca. and Phan.: Of course it does--indifference!
It means complete indifference!
(King dancing quietly. Sca. and Phan. dancing furiously.)
Sca. and Phan.: As we've a dance for every mood
With pas de trois we will conclude,
What this may mean you all may guess--
It typifies remorselessness!
King.: It means unruffled cheerfulness!
(King dances off placidly as Scaphio and Phantis dance furiously.)
Phantis: (breathless) He's right--we are helpless! He's no
longer a
human being--he's a Corporation, and so long as he
confines
himself to his Articles of Association we can't touch
him!
What are we to do?
Scaphio: Do? Raise a Revolution, repeal the Act of Sixty-Two,
reconvert
him into an individual, and insist on his immediate
explosion!
(Tarara enters.) Tarara, come here; you're the
very man we want.
Tarara: Certainly, allow me. (Offers a cracker to each; they
snatch
them away impatiently.) That's rude.
Scaphio: We have no time for idle forms. You wish to succeed to
the
throne?
Tarara: Naturally.
Scaphio: Then you won't unless you join us. The King has defied
us,
and, as matters stand, we are helpless. So are you. We
must devise some plot at once to bring the people about
his
ears.
Tarara: A plot?
Phantis: Yes, a plot of superhuman subtlety. Have you such a
thing
about you?
Tarara: (feeling) No, I think not. No. There's one on my
dressing-table.
Scaphio: We can't wait--we must concoct one at once, and put it
into
execution without delay. There is not a moment to spare!
TRIO -- Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara.
Ensemble
With wily brain upon the spot
A private plot we'll plan,
The most ingenious private plot
Since private plots began.
That's understood. So far we've got
And, striking while the iron's hot,
We'll now determine like a shot
The details of this private plot.
Sca.: I think we ought--(whispers)
Phan. and Tar.: Such bosh I never heard!
Phan.: Ah! happy thought!--(whispers)
Sca. and Tar.: How utterly dashed absurd!
Tar.: I'll tell you how--(whispers)
Sca and Phan.: Why, what put that in your head?
Sca.: I've got it now--(whispers)
Phan. and Tar.: Oh, take him away to bed!
Phan.: Oh, put him to bed!
Tar.: Oh, put him to bed!
Sca.: What, put me to bed?
Phan. and Tar.: Yes, certainly put him to bed!
Sca.: But, bless me, don't you see--
Phan.: Do listen to me, I pray--
Tar.: It certainly seems to me--
Sca.: Bah--this is the only way!
Phan.: It's rubbish absurd you growl!
Tar.: You talk ridiculous stuff!
Sca.: You're a drivelling barndoor owl!
Phan.: You're a vapid and vain old muff!
(All, coming down to audience.)
So far we haven't quite solved the plot--
They're not a very ingenious lot--
But don't be unhappy,
It's still on the tapis,
We'll presently hit on a capital plot!
Sca.: Suppose we all--(whispers)
Phan.: Now there I think you're right.
Then we might all--(whispers)
Tar.: That's true, we certainly might.
I'll tell you what--(whispers)
Sca.: We will if we possibly can.
Then on the spot-- (whispers)
Phan. and Tar.: Bravo! A capital plan!
Sca.: That's exceedingly neat and new!
Phan.: Exceedingly new and neat.
Tar.: I fancy that that will do.
Sca.: It's certainly very complete.
Phan.: Well done you sly old sap!
Tar.: Bravo, you cunning old mole!
Sca.: You very ingenious chap!
Phan.: You intellectual soul!
(All, coming down and addressing audience.)
At last a capital plan we've got
We won't say how and we won't say what:
It's safe in my noddle--
Now off we will toddle,
And slyly develop this capital plot!
(Business. Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis in one direction, and Tarara
in
the other.)
(Enter Lord Dramaleigh and Mr. Goldbury.)
Lord D.: Well, what do you think of our first South Pacific
Drawing-Room? Allowing for a slight difficulty with the
trains, and a little want of familiarity with the use of
the
rouge-pot, it was, on the whole, a meritorious affair?
Gold.: My dear Dramaleigh, it redounds infinitely to your
credit.
Lord D.: One or two judicious innovations, I think?
Gold.: Admirable. The cup of tea and the plate of mixed
biscuits
were a cheap and effective inspiration.
Lord D.: Yes--my idea entirely. Never been done before.
Gold.: Pretty little maids, the King's youngest daughters, but
timid.
Lord D.: That'll wear off. Young.
Gold.: That'll wear off. Ha! here they come, by George! And
without
the Dragon! What can they have done with her?
(Enter Nekaya and Kalyba timidly.)
Nekaya: Oh, if you please, Lady Sophy has sent us in here,
because
Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe are going on, in the
garden,
in a manner which no well-conducted young ladies ought to
witness.
Lord D.: Indeed, we are very much obliged to her Ladyship.
Kalyba: Are you? I wonder why.
Nekaya: Don't tell us if it's rude.
Lord D.: Rude? Not at all. We are obliged to Lady Sophy because
she
has afforded us the pleasure of seeing you.
Nekaya: I don't think you ought to talk to us like that.
Kalyba: It's calculated to turn our heads.
Nekaya: Attractive girls cannot be too particular.
Kalyba: Oh pray, pray do not take advantage of our unprotected
innocence.
Gold.: Pray be reassured--you are in no danger whatever.
Lord D.: But may I ask--is this extreme delicacy--this shrinking
sensitiveness--a general characteristic of Utopian young
ladies?
Nekaya: Oh no; we are crack specimens.
Kalyba: We are the pick of the basket. Would you mind not coming
quite so near? Thank you.
Nekaya: And please don't look at us like that; it unsettles us.
Kalyba: And we don't like it. At least, we do like it; but it's
wrong.
Nekaya: We have enjoyed the inestimable privilege of being
educated
by a most refined and easily shocked English lady, on the
very strictest English principles.
Gold.: But, my dear young ladies---
Kalyba: Oh, don't! You mustn't. It's too affectionate.
Nekaya: It really does unsettle us.
Gold.: Are you really under the impression that English girls
are
so ridiculously demure? Why, an English girl of the
highest
type is the best, the most beautiful, the bravest, and
the
brightest creature that Heaven has conferred upon this
world
of ours. She is frank, open-hearted, and fearless, and
never shows in so favorable a light as when she gives her
own blameless impulses full play!
Nekaya Oh, you shocking story!
and
Kalyba:
Gold.: Not at all. I'm speaking the strict truth. I'll tell
you
all about her.
SONG -- Mr. Goldbury.
A wonderful joy our eyes to bless,
In her magnificent comeliness,
Is an English girl of eleven stone two,
And five foot ten in her dancing shoe!
She follows the hounds, and on the pounds--
The "field" tails off and the muffs diminish--
Over the hedges and brooks she bounds,
Straight as a crow, from find to finish.
At cricket, her kin will lose or win--
She and her maids, on grass and clover,
Eleven maids out--eleven maids in--
And perhaps an occasional "maiden over!"
Go search the world and search the sea,
Then come you home and sing with me
There's no such gold and no such pearl
As a bright and beautiful English girl!
With a ten-mile spin she stretches her limbs,
She golfs, she punts, she rows, she swims--
She plays, she sings, she dances, too,
From ten or eleven til all is blue!
At ball or drum, til small hours come
(Chaperon's fans concealing her yawning)
She'll waltz away like a teetotum.
And never go home til daylight's dawning.
Lawn-tennis may share her favours fair--
Her eyes a-dance, and her cheeks a-glowing--
Down comes her hair, but then what does she care?
It's all her own and it's worth the showing!
Go search the world, etc.
Her soul is sweet as the ocean air,
For prudery knows no haven there;
To find mock-modesty, please apply
To the conscious blush and the downcast eye.
Rich in the things contentment brings,
In every pure enjoyment wealthy,
Blithe and beautiful bird she sings,
For body and mind are hale and healthy.
Her eyes they thrill with right goodwill--
Her heart is light as a floating feather--
As pure and bright as the mountain rill
That leaps and laughs in the Highland heather!
Go search the world, etc.
QUARTET
Nek.: Then I may sing and play?
Lord D.: You may!
Kal.: Then I may laugh and shout?
Gold.: No doubt!.
Nek.: These maxims you endorse?
Lord D.: Of course!
Kal.: You won't exclaim "Oh fie!"
Gold.: Not I!
Gold: Whatever you are--be that:
Whatever you say--be true:
Straightforwardly act--
Be honest--in fact,
Be nobody else but you.
Lord D.: Give every answer pat--
Your character true unfurl;
And when it is ripe,
You'll then be a type
Of a capital English girl.
All.: Oh sweet surprise--oh, dear delight,
To find it undisputed quite,
All musty, fusty rules despite
That Art is wrong and Nature right!
Nek.: When happy I,
With laughter glad
I'll wake the echoes fairly,
And only sigh
When I am sad--
And that will be but rarely!
Kal.: I'll row and fish,
And gallop, soon--
No longer be a prim one--
And when I wish
To hum a tune,
It needn't be a hymn one?
Gold and Lord D.: No, no!
It needn't be a hymn one!
All (dancing): Oh, sweet surprise and dear delight
To find it undisputed quite--
All musty, fusty rules despite--
That Art is wrong and Nature right!
(Dance, and
off)
(Enter Lady Sophy)
RECITATIVE -- Lady Sophy.
Oh, would some demon power the gift impart
To quell my over-conscientious heart--
Unspeak the oaths that never had been spoken,
And break the vows that never should be broken!
SONG -- Lady Sophy
When but a maid of fifteen year,
Unsought--unplighted--
Short petticoated--and, I fear,
Still shorter-sighted--
I made a vow, one early spring,
That only to some spotless King
Who proof of blameless life could bring
I'd be united.
For I had read, not long before,
Of blameless kings in fairy lore,
And thought the race still flourished here--
Well, well--
I was a maid of fifteen year!
(The King enters and overhears this verse)
Each morning I pursued my game
(An early riser);
For spotless monarchs I became
An advertiser:
But all in vain I searched each land,
So, kingless, to my native strand
Returned, a little older, and
A good deal wiser!
I learnt that spotless King and Prince
Have disappeared some ages since--
Even Paramount's angelic grace--
Ah me!--
Is but a mask on Nature's face!
(King comes forward)
King: Ah, Lady Sophy--then you love me!
For so you sing--
Lady S.: (Indignant and surprise. Producing "Palace Peeper")
No, by the stars that shine above me,
Degraded King!
For while these rumours, through the city bruited,
Remain uncontradicted, unrefuted,
The object thou of my aversion rooted,
Repulsive thing!
King: Be just--the time is now at hand
When truth may published be.
These paragraphs were written and
Contributed by me!
Lady S.: By you? No, no!
King: Yes, yes. I swear, by me!
I, caught in Scaphio's ruthless toil,
Contributed the lot!
Lady S.: That that is why you did not boil
The author on the spot!
King: And that is why I did not boil
The author on the spot!
Lady S.: I couldn't think why you did not boil!
King: But I know why I did not boil
The author on the spot!
DUET -- Lady Sophy and King
Lady S.: Oh, the rapture unrestrained
Of a candid retractation!
For my sovereign has deigned
A convincing explanation--
And the clouds that gathered o'er
All have vanished in the distance,
And the Kings of fairy lore
One, at least, is in existence!
King: Oh, the skies are blue above,
And the earth is red and rosal,
Now the lady of my love
Has accepted my proposal!
For that asinorum pons
I have crossed without assistance,
And of prudish paragons
One, at least, is in existence!
(King and Lady Sophy dance gracefully. While this is going on Lord
Dramaleigh enters unobserved with Nekaya and Capt.
Fitzbattleaxe. The
two girls direct Zara's attention to the King and Lady Sophy,
who
are still dancing affectionately together. At this point the
King kisses Lady Sophy, which causes the Princesses to make an
exclamation. The King and Lady Sophy are at first much
confused at
being detected, but eventually throw off all reserve, and the
four couples break into a wild Tarantella, and at the end
exeunt
severally.)
Enter all the male Chorus, in great excitement, for various
entrances,
led by Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara, and followed by the
female
Chorus.
CHORUS.
Upon our sea-girt land
At our enforced command
Reform has laid her hand
Like some remorseless ogress--
And made us darkly rue
The deeds she dared to do--
And all is owing to
Those hated Flowers of Progress!
So down with them!
So down with them!
Reform's a hated ogress.
So down with them!
So down with them!
Down with the Flowers of Progress!
(Flourish. Enter King, his three daughters, Lady Sophy, and the
Flowers
of Progress.)
King: What means this most unmannerly irruption?
Is this your gratitude for boons conferred?
Scaphio: Boons? Bah! A fico for such boons, say we!
These boons have brought Utopia to a standstill!
Our pride and boast--the Army and the Navy--
Have both been reconstructed and remodeled
Upon so irresistible a basis
That all the neighboring nations have disarmed--
And War's impossible! Your County Councillor
Has passed such drastic Sanitary laws
That all doctors dwindle, starve, and die!
The laws, remodeled by Sir Bailey Barre,
Have quite extinguished crime and litigation:
The lawyers starve, and all the jails are let
As model lodgings for the working-classes!
In short--Utopia, swamped by dull Prosperity,
Demands that these detested Flowers of Progress
Be sent about their business, and affairs
Restored to their original complexion!
King: (to Zara) My daughter, this is a very unpleasant state
of
things. What is to be done?
Zara: I don't know--I don't understand it. We must have
omitted
something.
King: Omitted something? Yes, that's all very well, but---
(Sir
Bailey Barre whispers to Zara.)
Zara: (suddenly) Of course! Now I remember! Why, I had
forgotten
the most essential element of all!
King: And that is?---
Zara: Government by Party! Introduce that great and glorious
element--at once the bulwark and foundation of England's
greatness--and all will be well! No political measures
will
endure, because one Party will assuredly undo all that
the
other Party has done; and while grouse is to be shot, and
foxes worried to death, the legislative action of the
country
will be at a standstill. Then there will be sickness
in
plenty, endless lawsuits, crowded jails, interminable
confusion
in the Army and Navy, and, in short, general and
unexampled
prosperity!
All: Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
Phantis: (aside) Baffled!
Scaphio: But an hour will come!
King: Your hour has come already--away with them, and let them
wait my will! (Scaphio and Phantis are led off in
custody.)
From this moment Government by Party is adopted, with all
its attendant blessings; and henceforward Utopia will no
longer be a Monarchy Limited, but, what is a great deal
better, a Limited Monarchy!
FINALE
Zara: There's a little group of isles beyond the wave--
So tiny, you might almost wonder where it is--
That nation is the bravest of the brave,
And cowards are the rarest of all rarities.
The proudest nations kneel at her command;
She terrifies all foreign-born rapscallions;
And holds the peace of Europe in her hand
With half a score invincible battalions!
Such, at least, is the tale
Which is born on the gale,
From the island which dwells in the sea.
Let us hope, for her sake
That she makes no mistake--
That she's all the professes to be!
King: Oh, may we copy all her maxims wise,
And imitate her virtues and her charities;
And may we, by degrees, acclimatize
Her Parliamentary peculiarities!
By doing so, we shall in course of time,
Regenerate completely our entire land--
Great Britain is the monarchy sublime,
To which some add (others do not) Ireland.
Such at least is the tale, etc.
CURTAIN.
THE YEOMEN OF THE GUARD
or
The Merryman and His Maid
Book by
W.S. GILBERT
Music by
ARTHUR SULLIVAN
First produced at the Savoy Theatre in London, England,
on October 3, 1888.
THE YEOMEN OF THE GUARD
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
SIR RICHARD CHOLMONDELEY [pronounced Chum'lee]
(Lieutenant of the Tower) Baritone
COLONEL FAIRFAX (under sentence of death) Tenor
SERGEANT MERYLL (of the Yeomen of the Guard) Bass/Baritone
LEONARD MERYLL (his son) Tenor
JACK POINT (a Strolling Jester) Light Baritone
WILFRED SHADBOLT
(Head Jailer and Assistant Tormentor) Bass/Baritone
THE HEADSMAN Non-singing
FIRST YEOMAN Baritone
SECOND YEOMAN Tenor
THIRD YEOMAN [optional] Baritone
FOURTH YEOMAN [optional] Tenor
FIRST CITIZEN Chorus
SECOND CITIZEN Chorus
ELSIE MAYNARD (a Strolling Singer) Soprano
PHOEBE MERYLL (Sergeant Meryll's Daughter) Mezzo-Soprano
DAME CARRUTHERS (Housekeeper to the Tower) Contralto
KATE (her Niece) Soprano
Chorus of YEOMEN of the Guard, GENTLEMEN, CITIZENS, etc.
SCENE: Tower Green
16th Century
ACT I
[Scene.-- Tower Green]
[Phoebe discovered spinning.
No. 1. When maiden loves, she sits and sighs
(INTRODUCTION and SONG)
Phoebe
PHOEBE When maiden loves, she sits and sighs,
She wanders to and fro;
Unbidden tear-drops fill her eyes,
And to all questions she replies,
With a sad "Heigh-ho!"
'Tis but a little word--"Heigh-ho!"
So soft, 'tis scarcely heard--"Heigh-ho!"
An idle breath--
Yet life and death
May hang upon a maid's "Heigh-ho!"
When maiden loves, she mopes apart,
As owl mopes on a tree;
Although she keenly feels the smart,
She cannot tell what ails her heart,
With its sad "Ah, me!"
'Tis but a foolish sigh--"Ah, me!"
Born but to droop and die--"Ah, me!"
Yet all the sense
Of eloquence
Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"
Yet all the sense
Of eloquence
Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"
"Ah, me!", "Ah, me!"
Yet all the sense
Of eloquence
Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"
[PHOEBE weeps
[Enter WILFRED
WILFRED Mistress Meryll!
PHOEBE [looking up] Eh! Oh! it's you, is it? You may go
away,if you like. Because I don't want you, you know.
WILFRED Haven't you anything to say to me?
PHOEBE Oh yes! Are the birds all caged? The wild beasts all
littered down? All the locks, chains, bolts, and bars
in good order? Is the Little Ease sufficiently
comfortable? The racks, pincers, and thumbscrews all
ready for work? Ugh! you brute!
WILFRED These allusions to my professional duties are in
doubtful taste. I didn't become a head-jailer because
I like head-jailing. I didn't become an assistanttormentor
because I like assistant-tormenting. We
can't all be sorcerers, you know. [PHOEBE is annoyed]
Ah! you brought that upon yourself.
PHOEBE Colonel Fairfax is not a sorcerer. He's a man of
science and an alchemist.
WILFRED Well, whatever he is, he won't be one for long, for
he's to be beheaded to-day for dealings with the
devil. His master nearly had him last night, when the
fire broke out in the Beauchamp [pronounced Bee'cham]
Tower.
PHOEBE Oh! how I wish he had escaped in the confusion! But
take care; there's still time for a reply to his
petition for mercy.
WILFRED Ah! I'm content to chance that. This evening at halfpast
seven-- ah! [Gesture of chopping off a head.]
PHOEBE You're a cruel monster to speak so unfeelingly of the
death of a young and handsome soldier.
WILFRED Young and handsome! How do you know he's young and
handsome?
PHOEBE Because I've seen him every day for weeks past taking
his exercise on the Beauchamp [pronounced Bee'cham]
Tower.
WILFRED Curse him!
PHOEBE There, I believe you're jealous of him, now. Jealous
of a man I've never spoken to! Jealous of a poor soul
who's to die in an hour!
WILFRED I am! I'm jealous of everybody and everything. I'm
jealous of the very words I speak to you-- because they
reach your ears-- and I mustn't go near 'em!
PHOEBE How unjust you are! Jealous of the words you speak to
me! Why, you know as well as I do that I don't even
like them.
WILFRED You used to like 'em.
PHOEBE I used to pretend I like them. It was mere politeness
to comparative strangers.
[Exit PHOEBE, with spinning wheel
WILFRED I don't believe you know what jealousy is! I don't
believe you know how it eats into a man's heart-- and
disorders his digestion-- and turns his interior into
boiling lead. Oh, you are a heartless jade to trifle
with the delicate organization of the human interior.
No. 1A. When jealous torments
(OPTIONAL SONG)
Wilfred
WILFRED When jealous torments rack my soul,
My agonies I can't control,
Oh, better sit on red hot coal
Than love a heartless jade.
The red hot coal will hurt no doubt,
But red hot coals in time die out,
But jealousy you can not rout,
Its fires will never fade.
It's much less painful on the whole
To go and sit on red hot coal
'Til you're completely flayed,
Or ask a kindly friend to crack
Your wretched bones upon the rack
Than love a heartless jade,
Than love a heartless jade.
The kerchief on your neck of snow
I look on as a deadly foe,
It goeth where I dare not go
And stops there all day long.
The belt that holds you in its grasp
Is to my peace of mind a rasp,
It claspeth what I can not clasp,
Correct me if I'm wrong.
It's much less painful on the whole
To go and sit on red hot coal
'Til you're completely flayed,
Or ask a kindly friend to crack
Your wretched bones upon the rack
Than love a heartless jade,
Than love a heartless jade.
The bird that breakfasts on your lip,
I would I had him in my grip,
He sippeth where I dare not sip,
I can't get over that.
The cat you fondle soft and sly,
He layeth where I dare not lie.
We're not on terms, that cat and I.
I do not like that cat.
It's much less painful on the whole
To go and sit on red hot coal
'Til you're completely flayed,
Or ask a kindly friend to crack
Your wretched bones upon the rack
Than love a heartless jade,
Than love a heartless jade.
Or ask a kindly friend to crack
Your wretched bones upon the rack
Than love a heartless jade.
[Exit WILFRED. Enter people excitedly, followed by YEOMEN
of the Guard with SERGEANT MERYLL at rear.
No. 2. Tower warders, Under orders
(Double Chorus)
CROWD and YEOMEN, with Solo 2ND YEOMEN
CROWD Tower warders,
Under orders,
Gallant pikemen, valiant sworders!
Brave in bearing,
Foemen scaring,
In their bygone days of daring!
Ne'er a stranger
There to danger--
Each was o'er the world a ranger;
To the story
Of our glory
Each a bold, a bold contributory!
YEOMEN In the autumn of our life,
Here at rest in ample clover,
We rejoice in telling over
Our impetuous May and June.
In the evening of our day,
With the sun of life declining,
We recall without repining
All the heat of bygone noon,
We recall without repining
All the heat,
We recall, recall
All of bygone noon.
2ND YEOMAN This the autumn of our life,
This the evening of our day;
Weary we of battle strife,
Weary we of mortal fray.
But our year is not so spent,
And our days are not so faded,
But that we with one consent,
Were our loved land invaded,
Still would face a foreign foe,
As in days of long ago,
Still would face a foreign foe,
As in days of long ago,
As in days of long ago,
As in days of long ago.
YEOMEN Still would face a foreign foe,
As in days of long ago.
CROWD Tower warders,
Under orders,
Gallant pikemen, valiant sworders!
Brave in bearing, Foemen scaring,
In their bygone days of daring!
CROWD YEOMEN
Tower warders, This the autumn of our life
Under orders,
Gallant pikemen,
Valiant sworders
Brave in bearing, This the evening of our day;
Foemen scaring,
In their bygone days of daring!
Ne'er a stranger Weary we of battle strife,
There to danger
Each was o'er the world a ranger:
To the story Weary we of mortal fray.
Of our glory
Each a bold,
A bold contributory.
To the story This the autumn of our life.
Of our glory
Each a bold contributory! This the evening of our day,
Each a bold contributory! This the evening of our day.
[Exit CROWD. Manent YEOMEN. Enter DAME CARRUTHERS.
DAME A good day to you!
2ND
YEOMAN Good day, Dame Carruthers. Busy to-day?
DAME Busy, aye! the fire in the Beauchamp [pronounced
Bee'cham] last night has given me work enough. A dozen
poor prisoners-- Richard Colfax, Sir Martin Byfleet,
Colonel Fairfax, Warren the preacher-poet, and half-ascore
others-- all packed into one small cell, not six
feet square. Poor Colonel Fairfax, who's to die today,
is to be removed to no. 14 in the Cold Harbour
that he may have his last hour alone with his
confessor; and I've to see to that.
2ND
YEOMAN Poor gentleman! He'll die bravely. I fought under him
two years since, and he valued his life as it were a
feather!
PHOEBE He's the bravest, the handsomest, and the best young
gentleman in England! He twice saved my father's life;
and it's a cruel thing, a wicked thing, and a
barbarous thing that so gallant a hero should lose his
head-- for it's the handsomest head in England!
DAME For dealings with the devil. Aye! if all were beheaded
who dealt with him, there'd be busy things on Tower
Green.
PHOEBE You know very well that Colonel Fairfax is a student
of alchemy-- nothing more, and nothing less; but this
wicked Tower, like a cruel giant in a fairy-tale, must
be fed with blood, and that blood must be the best and
bravest in England, or it's not good enough for the
old Blunderbore. Ugh!
DAME Silence, you silly girl; you know not what you say. I
was born in the old keep, and I've grown grey in it,
and, please God, I shall die and be buried in it; and
there's not a stone in its walls that is not as dear
tome as my right hand.
No. 3. When our gallant Norman foes
(SONG WITH CHORUS)
Dame Carruthers and Yeomen
DAME When our gallant Norman foes
Made our merry land their own,
And the Saxons from the Conqueror were flying,
At his bidding it arose,
In its panoply of stone,
A sentinel unliving and undying.
Insensible, I trow,
As a sentinel should be,
Though a queen to save her head should
come a-suing,
There's a legend on its brow
That is eloquent to me,
And it tells of duty done and duty doing.
The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
And men may bleed and men may burn,
O'er London town and its golden hoard
I keep my silent watch and ward!
CHORUS The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
O'er London town and all its hoard,
And men may bleed and men may burn,
O'er London town and all its hoard,
O'er London town and its golden hoard
I keep my silent watch and ward!
DAME Within its wall of rock
The flower of the brave
Have perished with a constancy unshaken.
From the dungeon to the block,
From the scaffold to the grave,
Is a journey many gallant hearts have taken.
And the wicked flames may hiss
Round the heroes who have fought
For conscience and for home in all its beauty,
But the grim old fortalice
Takes little heed of aught
That comes not in the measure of its duty.
The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
And men may bleed and men may burn,
O'er London town and its golden hoard
I keep my silent watch and ward!
CHORUS The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
O'er London town and all its hoard,
And men may bleed and men may burn,
O'er London town and all its hoard,
O'er London town and its golden hoard
I keep my silent watch and ward!
[Exeunt all but PHOEBE. Enter SERGEANT MERYLL.
PHOEBE Father! Has no reprieve arrived for the poor
gentleman?
MERYLL No, my lass; but there's one hope yet. Thy brother
Leonard, who, as a reward for his valour in saving his
standard and cutting his way through fifty foes who
would have hanged him, has been appointed a Yeoman of
the Guard, will arrive to-day; and as he comes
straight from Windsor, where the Court is, it may be--
it may be-- that he will bring the expected reprieve
with him.
PHOEBE Oh, that he may!
MERYLL Amen to that! For the Colonel twice saved my life, and
I'd give the rest of my life to save his! And wilt
thou not be glad to welcome thy brave brother, with
the fame of whose exploits all England is a-ringing?
PHOEBE Aye, truly, if he brings the reprieve.
MERYLL And not otherwise?
PHOEBE Well, he's a brave fellow indeed, and I love brave
men.
MERYLL All brave men?
PHOEBE Most of them, I verily believe! But I hope Leonard
will not be too strict with me-- they say he is a very
dragon of virtue and circumspection! Now, my dear old
father is kindness itself, and----
MERYLL And leaves thee pretty well to thine own ways, eh?
Well, I've no fears for thee; thou hast a featherbrain,
but thou'rt a good lass.
PHOEBE Yes, that's all very well, but if Leonard is going to
tell me that I may not do this and I may not do that,
and I must not talk to this one, or walk with that
one, but go through the world with my lips pursed up
and my eyes cats down, like a poor nun who has
renounced mankind-- why, as I have not renounced
mankind, and don't mean to renounce mankind, I won't
have it-- there!
MERYLL Nay, he'll not check thee more than is good for thee,
Phoebe! He's a brave fellow, and bravest among brave
fellows, and yet it seems but yesterday that he robbed
the Lieutenant's orchard.
No. 3A. A laughing boy
(OPTIONAL SONG)
Sergeant Meryll
MERYLL A laughing boy but yesterday,
A merry urchin blithe and gay,
Whose joyous shout came ringing out
Unchecked by care or sorrow.
Today a warrior all sunbrown,
When deeds of soldierly renown
Are not the boast of London town,
A veteran tomorrow, today a warrior,
A veteran tomorrow!
When at my Leonard's deeds sublime,
A soldier's pulse beats double time,
And grave hearts thrill as brave hearts will
At tales of martial glory.
I burn with flush of pride and joy,
A pride unbittered by alloy,
To find my boy, my darling boy,
The theme of song and story,
To find my darling boy
The theme of song and story!
To find my boy, my darling boy,
The theme of song and story!
[Enter LEONARD MERYLL
LEONARD Father!
MERYLL Leonard! my brave boy! I'm right glad to see thee, and
so is Phoebe!
PHOEBE Aye-- hast thou brought Colonel Fairfax's reprieve?
LEONARD Nay, I have here a despatch for the Lieutenant, but no
reprieve for the Colonel!
PHOEBE Poor gentleman! poor gentleman!
LEONARD Aye, I would I had brought better news. I'd give my
right hand-- nay, my body-- my life, to save his!
MERYLL Dost thou speak in earnest, my lad?
LEONARD Aye, father-- I'm no braggart. Did he not save thy
life? and am I not his foster-brother?
MERYLL Then hearken to me. Thou hast come to join the Yeomen
of the Guard!
LEONARD Well?
MERYLL None has seen thee but ourselves?
LEONARD And a sentry, who took scant notice of me.
MERYLL Now to prove thy words. Give me the despatch and get
thee hence at once! Here is money, and I'll send thee
more. Lie hidden for a space, and let no one know.
I'll convey a suit of Yeoman's uniform to the
Colonel's cell-- he shall shave off his beard, so that
none shall know him, and I'll own him as my son, the
brave Leonard Meryll, who saved his flag and cut his
way through fifty foes who thirsted for his life. He
will be welcomed without question by my brother-
Yeomen, I'll warrant that. Now, how to get access to
the Colonel's cell? [To PHOEBE] The key is with they
sour-faced admirer, Wilfred Shadbolt.
PHOEBE [demurely] I think-- I say, I think-- I can get anything
I want from Wilfred. I think-- mind I say, I think-- you
may leave that to me.
MERYLL Then get thee hence at once, lad-- and bless thee for
this sacrifice.
PHOEBE And take my blessing, too, dear, dear Leonard!
LEONARD And thine. eh? Humph! Thy love is newborn; wrap it up
carefully, lest it take cold and die.
No. 4. Alas! I waver to and fro
(TRIO)
Phoebe, Leonard, and Meryll
PHOEBE Alas! I waver to and fro!
Dark danger hangs upon the deed!
ALL Dark danger hangs upon the deed!
LEONARD The scheme is rash and well may fail;
But ours are not the hearts that quail,
The hands that shrink, the cheeks that pale
In hours of need!
ALL No, ours are not the hearts that quail,
The hands that shrink, the cheeks that pale
The hands that shrink, the cheeks that pale
In hours of need!
MERYLL The air I breathe to him I owe:
My life is his-- I count it naught!
PHOEBE
and LEONARD That life is his-- so count it naught!
MERYLL And shall I reckon risks I run
When services are to be done
To save the life of such an one?
Unworthy thought! Unworthy thought!
PHOEBE
and LEONARD And shall we reckon risks we run
To save the life of such an one?
ALL Unworthy thought! Unworthy thought!
We may succeed-- who can foretell?
May heav'n help our hope--
May heav'n help our hope,
farewell!
May heav'n help our hope,
Help our hope,
farewell!
[LEONARD embraces MERYLL and PHOEBE, and then exits. PHOEBE
weeping.
MERYLL [goes up to PHOEBE] Nay, lass, be of good cheer, we
may save him yet.
PHOEBE Oh! see, after-- they bring the poor gentleman from the
Beauchamp! [pronounced Bee'cham] Oh, father! his hour
is not yet come?
MERYLL No, no-- they lead him to the Cold Harbour Tower to
await his end in solitude. But softly-- the Lieutenant
approaches! He should not see thee weep.
[Enter FAIRFAX, guarded by YEOMEN. The LIEUTENANT enters,
meeting him.
LIEUT. Halt! Colonel Fairfax, my old friend, we meet but
sadly.
FAIRFAX Sir, I greet you with all good-will; and I thank you
for the zealous acre with which you have guarded me
from the pestilent dangers which threaten human life
outside. In this happy little community, Death, when
he comes, doth so in punctual and business-like
fashion; and, like a courtly gentleman, giveth due
notice of his advent, that one may not be taken
unawares.
LIEUT. Sir, you bear this bravely, as a brave man should.
FAIRFAX Why, sir, it is no light boon to die swiftly and
surely at a given hour and in a given fashion! Truth
to tell, I would gladly have my life; but if that may
not be, I have the next best thing to it, which is
death. Believe me, sir, my lot is not so much amiss!
PHOEBE [aside to MERYLL] Oh, father, father, I cannot bear
it!
MERYLL My poor lass!
FAIRFAX Nay, pretty one, why weepest thou? Come, be comforted.
Such a life as mine is not worth weeping for. [sees
MERYLL] Sergeant Meryll, is it not? [to LIEUTENANT]
May I greet my old friend? [Shakes MERYLL's hand;
MERYLL begins to weep] Why, man, what's all this? Thou
and I have faced the grim old king a dozen times, and
never has his majesty come to me in such goodly
fashion. Keep a stout heart, good fellow-- we are
soldiers, and we know how to die, thou and I. Take my
word for it, it is easier to die well than to live
well-- for, in sooth, I have tried both.
No. 5. Is life a boon?
(BALLAD)
Fairfax
FAIRFAX Is life a boon?
If so, it must befall
That Death, whene'er he call,
Must call too soon.
Though fourscore years he give,
Yet one would pray to live
Another moon!
What kind of plaint have I,
Who perish in July,
who perish in July?
I might have had to die,
Perchance, in June!
I might have had to die,
Perchance, in June!
Is life a thorn?
Then count it not a whit!
Nay, count it not a whit!
Man is well done with it;
Soon as he's born
He should all means essay
To put the plague away;
And I, war-worn,
Poor captured fugitive,
My life most gladly give--
I might have had to live,
Another morn!
I might have had to live,
Another morn!
[At the end, PHOEBE is led off, weeping, by MERYLL.
FAIRFAX And now, Sir Richard, I have a boon to beg. I am in
this strait for no better reason than because my
kinsman, Sir Clarence Poltwhistle, one of the
Secretaries of State, has charged me with sorcery, in
order that he may succeed in my estate, which devolves
to him provided I die unmarried.
LIEUT. As thou wilt most surely do.
FAIRFAX Nay, as I will most surely not do, by your worship's
grace! I have a mind to thwart this good cousin of
mine.
LIEUT. How?
FAIRFAX By marrying forthwith, to be sure!
LIEUT. But heaven ha' mercy, whom wouldst thou marry?
FAIRFAX Nay, I am indifferent on that score. Coming Death hath
made of me a true and chivalrous knight, who holds all
womankind in such esteem that the oldest, and the
meanest, and the worst-favoured of them is good enough
for him. So, my good Lieutenant, if thou wouldst serve
a poor soldier who has but an hour to live, find me
the first that comes-- my confessor shall marry us, and
her dower shall be my dishonoured name and a hundred
crowns to boot. No such poor dower for an hour of
matrimony!
LIEUT. A strange request. I doubt that I should be warranted
in granting it.
FAIRFAX There never was a marriage fraught with so little of
evil to the contracting parties. In an hour she'll be
a widow, and I-- a bachelor again for aught I know!
LIEUT. Well, I will see what can be done, for I hold thy
kinsman in abhorrence for the scurvy trick he has
played thee.
FAIRFAX A thousand thanks, good sir; we meet again in this
spot in an hour or so. I shall be a bridegroom then,
and your worship will wish me joy. Till then,
farewell. [To GUARD] I am ready, good fellows.
[Exit with GUARD into Cold Harbour Tower]
LIEUT. He is a brave fellow, and it is a pity that he should
die. Now, how to find him a bride at such short
notice? Well, the task should be easy! [Exit]
[Enter JACK POINT and ELSIE MAYNARD, pursued by a CROWD of
men and women. POINT and ELSIE are much terrified; POINT,
however, assuming an appearance of self-possession.
No. 6. Here's a man of jollity
(CHORUS)
People, Elsie, and Jack Point
CHORUS Here's a man of jollity,
Jibe, joke, jollify!
Give us of your quality,
Come, fool, follify!
If you vapour vapidly,
River runneth rapidly,
Into it we fling
Bird who doesn't sing!
Give us an experiment
In the art of merriment;
Into it we throw
Cock who doesn't crow!
Banish your timidity,
And with all rapidity
Give us quip and quiddity--
Willy-nilly, O!
River none can mollify;
Into it we throw
Fool who doesn't follify,
Cock who doesn't crow!
Banish your timidity,
And with all rapidity
Give us quip and quiddity--
Willy-nilly, O!
POINT [alarmed] My masters, I pray you bear with us, and we
will satisfy you, for we are merry folk who would make
all merry as ourselves. For, look you, there is humour
in all things, and the truest philosophy is that which
teaches us to find it and to make the most of it.
ELSIE [struggling with 1ST CITIZEN] Hands off, I say,
unmannerly fellow! [she boxes his ears]
POINT [to 1ST CITIZEN] Ha! Didst thou hear her say, "Hands
off"?
1ST
CITIZEN Aye, I heard her say it, and I felt her do it! What
then?
POINT Thou dost not see the humour of that?
1ST
CITIZEN Nay, if I do, hang me!
POINT Thou dost not? Now, observe. She said, "Hands off!
"Whose hands? Thine. Off whom? Off her. Why? Because
she is a woman. Now, had she not been a woman, thine
hands had not been set upon her at all. So the reason
for the laying on of hands is the reason for the
taking off of hands, and herein is contradiction
contradicted! It is the very marriage of pro with con;
and no such lopsided union either, as times go, for
pro is not more unlike con than man is unlike woman--
yet men and women marry every day with none to say,
"Oh, the pity of it!" but I and fools like me! Now
wherewithal shall we please you? We can rhyme you
couplet, triolet, quatrain, sonnet,rondolet, ballade,
what you will. Or we can dance you saraband, gondolet,
carole, pimpernel, or Jumping Joan.
ELSIE Let us give them the singing farce of the Merryman and
his Maid-- therein is song and dance too.
ALL Aye, the Merryman and his Maid!
No. 7. I have a song to sing, O!
(DUET)
Elsie and Point
POINT I have a song to sing, O!
ELSIE Sing me your song, O!
POINT It is sung to the moon
By a love-lorn loon,
Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
It's a song of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye.
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
ELSIE I have a song to sing, O!
POINT Sing me your song, O!
ELSIE It is sung with the ring
Of the songs maids sing
Who love with a love life-long, O!
It's the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud,
Who loved a lord, and who laughed aloud
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
POINT I have a song to sing, O!
ELSIE Sing me your song, O!
POINT It is sung to the knell
Of a churchyard bell,
And a doleful dirge, ding dong, O!
It's a song of a popinjay, bravely born,
Who turned up his noble nose with scorn
At the humble merrymaid, peerly proud,
Who loved a lord, and who laughed aloud
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
ELSIE I have a song to sing, O!
POINT Sing me your song, O!
ELSIE It is sung with a sigh
And a tear in the eye,
For it tells of a righted wrong, O!
It's a song of the merrymaid, once so gay,
Who turned on her heel and tripped away
From the peacock popinjay, bravely born,
Who turned up his noble nose with scorn
At the humble heart that he did not prize:
So she begged on her knees, with downcast eyes,
For the love of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
BOTH Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
His pains were o'er, and he sighed no more,
For he lived in the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
His pains were o'er, and he sighed no more,
For he lived in the love of a ladye!
1ST
CITIZEN Well sung and well danced!
2ND
CITIZEN A kiss for that, pretty maid!
ALL Aye, a kiss all round. [CROWD gathers around her]
ELSIE [drawing dagger] Best beware! I am armed!
POINT Back, sirs-- back! This is going too far.
2ND
CITIZEN Thou dost not see the humour of it, eh? Yet there is
humour in all things-- even in this. [Trying to kiss
her]
ELSIE Help! Help!
[Enter LIEUTENANT with GUARD. CROWD falls back
LIEUT. What is the pother?
ELSIE Sir, we sang to these folk, and they would have repaid
us with gross courtesy, but for your honour's coming.
LIEUT. [to CROWD] Away with ye! Clear the rabble.
[GUARDS push CROWD off, and go off with them]
Now, my girl, who are you, and what do you here?
ELSIE May it please you, sir, we are two strolling players,
Jack Point and I, Elsie Maynard, at your worship's
service. We go from fair to fair, singing, and
dancing, and playing brief interludes; and so we make
a poor living.
LIEUT. You two, eh? Are ye man and wife?
POINT No, sir; for though I'm a fool, there is a limit to my
folly. Her mother, old Bridget Maynard, travels with
us (for Elsie is a good girl), but the old woman is abed
with fever, and we have come here to pick up some
silver to buy an electuary for her.
LIEUT. Hark ye, my girl! Your mother is ill?
ELSIE Sorely ill, sir.
LIEUT. And needs good food, and many things that thou canst
not buy?
ELSIE Alas! sir, it is too true.
LIEUT. Wouldst thou earn an hundred crowns?
ELSIE An hundred crowns! They might save her life!
LIEUT. Then listen! A worthy but unhappy gentleman is to be
beheaded in an hour on this very spot. For sufficient
reasons, he desires to marry before he dies, and he
hath asked me to find him a wife. Wilt thou be that
wife?
ELSIE The wife of a man I have never seen!
POINT Why, sir, look you, I am concerned in this; for though
I am not yet wedded to Elsie Maynard, time works
wonders, and there's no knowing what may be in store
for us. Have we your worship's word for it that this
gentleman will die to-day?
LIEUT. Nothing is more certain, I grieve to say.
POINT And that the maiden will be allowed to depart the very
instant the ceremony is at an end?
LIEUT. The very instant. I pledge my honour that it shall be
so.
POINT An hundred crowns?
LIEUT. An hundred crowns!
POINT For my part, I consent. It is for Elsie to speak.
No. 8. How say you, maiden, will you wed
(TRIO)
Elsie, Point, and Lieutenant
LIEUT. How say you, maiden, will you wed
A man about to lose his head?
For half an hour
You'll be his wife,
And then the dower
Is your for life.
A headless bridegroom why refuse?
If truth the poets tell,
Most bridegrooms, 'ere they marry,
Lose both head and heart as well!
ELSIE A strange proposal you reveal,
It almost makes my senses reel.
Alas! I'm very poor indeed,
And such a sum I sorely need.
My mother, sir, is like to die.
This money life may bring.
Bear this in mind, I pray,
If I consent to do this thing!
POINT Though as a general rule of life
I don't allow my promised wife,
My lovely bride that is to be,
To marry anyone but me,
Yet if the fee is promptly paid,
And he, in well-earned grave,
Within the hour is duly laid,
Objection I will waive!
Yes, objection I will waive!
ALL Temptation, oh, temptation,
Were we, I pray, intended
To shun, what e'er our station,
Your fascinations splendid;
Or fall, whene'er we view you,
Head over heels into you?
Head over heels, Head over heels,
Head over heels into you!
Head over heels, Head over heels,
Head over heels, Right into you!
Head over heels, Head over heels, etc.
Temptation, oh, temptation!
[During this, the LIEUTENANT has whispered to WILFRED
(who has entered). WILFRED binds ELSIE's eyes with a
kerchief, and leads her into the Cold Harbour Tower
LIEUT. And so, good fellow, you are a jester?
POINT Aye, sir, and like some of my jests, out of place.
LIEUT. I have a vacancy for such an one. Tell me, what are
your qualifications for such a post?
POINT Marry, sir, I have a pretty wit. I can rhyme you
extempore; I can convulse you with quip and
conundrum;I have the lighter philosophies at my
tongue's tip; I can be merry, wise, quaint, grim, and
sardonic, one by one, or all at once; I have a pretty
turn for anecdote; I know all the jests-- ancient and
modern-- past, present, and to come; I can riddle you
from dawn of day to set of sun, and, if that content
you not, well on to midnight and the small hours. Oh,
sir, a pretty wit, I warrant you-- a pretty, pretty
wit!
No. 9. I've jibe and joke
(SONG)
Point
POINT I've jibe and joke
And quip and crank
For lowly folk
And men of rank.
I ply my craft
And know no fear.
But aim my shaft
At prince or peer.
At peer or prince-- at prince or peer,
I aim my shaft and know no fear!
I've wisdom from the East and from the West,
That's subject to no academic rule;
You may find it in the jeering of a jest,
Or distil it from the folly of a fool.
I can teach you with a quip, if I've a mind;
I can trick you into learning with a laugh;
Oh, winnow all my folly, folly, folly, and
you'll find
A grain or two of truth among the chaff!
Oh, winnow all my folly, folly, folly, and
you'll find
A grain or two of truth among the chaff!
I can set a braggart quailing with a quip,
The upstart I can wither with a whim;
He may wear a merry laugh upon his lip,
But his laughter has an echo that is grim.
When they're offered to the world in merry
guise,
Unpleasant truths are swallowed with a will,
For he who'd make his fellow,
fellow, fellow creatures wise
Should always gild the philosophic pill!
For he who'd make his fellow,
fellow, fellow creatures wise
Should always gild the philosophic pill!
LIEUT. And how came you to leave your last employ?
POINT Why, sir, it was in this wise. My Lord was the
Archbishop of Canterbury, and it was considered that
one of my jokes was unsuited to His Grace's family
circle. In truth, I ventured to ask a poor riddle,
sir-- Wherein lay the difference between His Grace and
poor Jack Point? His Grace was pleased to give it up,
sir. And thereupon I told him that whereas His Grace
was paid 10,000 a year for being good, poor Jack Point
was good-- for nothing. 'Twas but a harmless jest, but
it offended His Grace, who whipped me and set me in
the stocks for a scurril rogue, and so we parted. I
had as lief not take post again with the dignified
clergy.
LIEUT. But I trust you are very careful not to give offence.
I have daughters.
POINT Sir, my jests are most carefully selected, and
anything objectionable is expunged. If your honour
pleases, I will try then first on your honour's
chaplain.
LIEUT. Can you give me an example? Say that I had sat me down
hurriedly on something sharp?
POINT Sir, I should say that you had sat down on the spur of
the moment.
LIEUT. Humph! I don't think much of that. Is that the best
you can do?
POINT It has always been much admired, sir, but we will try
again.
LIEUT. Well, then, I am at dinner, and the joint of meat is
but half cooked.
POINT Why then, sir, I should say that what is underdone
cannot be helped.
LIEUT. I see. I think that manner of thing would be somewhat
irritating.
POINT At first, sir, perhaps; but use is everything, and you
would come in time to like it.
LIEUT. We will suppose that I caught you kissing the kitchen
wench under my very nose.
POINT Under her very nose, good sir-- not under yours! That
is where I would kiss her. Do you take me? Oh, sir, a
pretty wit-- a pretty, pretty wit!
LIEUT. The maiden comes. Follow me, friend, and we will
discuss this matter at length in my library.
POINT I am your worship's servant. That is to say, I trust
I soon shall be. But, before proceeding to a more
serious topic, can you tell me, sir, why a cook's
brain-pan is like an overwound clock?
LIEUT. A truce to this fooling-- follow me.
POINT Just my luck; my best conundrum wasted!
[Exeunt LIEUTENANT and POINT. Enter ELSIE from Tower, led
by WILFRED, who removes the bandage from her eyes, and
exits.
No. 10. 'Tis done! I am a bride!
(RECITATIVE AND SONG)
Elsie
ELSIE 'Tis done! I am a bride! Oh, little ring,
That bearest in thy circlet all the gladness
That lovers hope for, and that poets sing,
What bringest thou to me but gold and sadness?
A bridegroom all unknown, save in this wise,
To-day he dies! To-day, alas, he dies!
Though tear and long-drawn sigh
Ill fit a bride,
No sadder wife than I
The whole world wide!
Ah me! Ah me!
Yet maids there be
Who would consent to lose
The very rose of youth,
The flow'r of life,
To be, in honest truth,
A wedded wife,
No matter whose!
No matter whose!
Ah me! what profit we,
O maids that sigh,
Though gold, though gold should live
If wedded love must die?
Ere half an hour has rung,
A widow I!
Ah, heaven, he is too young,
Too brave to die!
Ah me! Ah me!
Yet wives there be
So weary worn, I trow,
That they would scarce complain,
So that they could
In half an hour attain
To widowhood,
No matter how!
No matter how!
O weary wives
Who widowhood would win,
Rejoice, rejoice, that ye have time
To weary in.
O weary wives
Who widowhood would win,
Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice,
that ye have time
O weary, weary wives, rejoice!
[Exit ELSIE as WILFRED re-enters.
WILFRED [looking after ELSIE] 'Tis an odd freak for a dying
man and his confessor to be closeted alone with a
strange singing girl. I would fain have espied them,
but they stopped up the keyhole. My keyhole!
[Enter PHOEBE with SERGEANT MERYLL. MERYLL remains in the
background, unobserved by WILFRED.
PHOEBE [aside] Wilfred-- and alone!
WILFRED Now what could he have wanted with her? That's what
puzzles me!
PHOEBE [aside] Now to get the keys from him.
[Aloud] Wilfred-- has no reprieve arrived?
WILFRED None. Thine adored Fairfax is to die.
PHOEBE Nay, thou knowest that I have naught but pity for the
poor condemned gentleman.
WILFRED I know that he who is about to die is more to thee
than I, who am alive and well.
PHOEBE Why, that were out of reason, dear Wilfred. Do they
not say that a live ass is better than a dead lion?
No, I didn't mean that!
WILFRED Oh, they say that, do they?
PHOEBE It's unpardonably rude of them, but I believe they put
it in that way. Not that it applies to thee, who art
clever beyond all telling!
WILFRED Oh yes, as an assistant-tormentor.
PHOEBE Nay, as a wit, as a humorist, as a most philosophic
commentator on the vanity of human resolution.
[PHOEBE slyly takes bunch of keys from WILFRED's waistband
and hands them to MERYLL, who enters the Tower, unnoticed
by WILFRED.
WILFRED Truly, I have seen great resolution give way under my
persuasive methods [working with a small thumbscrew].
In the nice regulation of a thumbscrew-- in the
hundredth part of a single revolution lieth all the
difference between stony reticence and a torrent of
impulsive unbosoming that the pen can scarcely follow.
Ha! ha! I am a mad wag.
PHOEBE [with a grimace] Thou art a most light-hearted and
delightful companion, Master Wilfred. Thine anecdotes
of the torture-chamber are the prettiest hearing.
WILFRED I'm a pleasant fellow an' I choose. I believe I am the
merriest dog that barks. Ah, we might be passing happy
together--
PHOEBE Perhaps. I do not know.
WILFRED For thou wouldst make a most tender and loving wife.
PHOEBE Aye, to one whom I really loved. For there is a wealth
of love within this little heart-- saving up for-- I
wonder whom? Now, of all the world of men, I wonder
whom? To think that he whom I am to wed is now alive
and somewhere! Perhaps far away, perhaps close at
hand! And I know him not! It seemeth that I am wasting
time in not knowing him.
WILFRED Now say that it is I-- nay! suppose it for the nonce.
Say that we are wed-- suppose it only-- say that thou
art my very bride, and I thy cherry, joyous, bright,
frolicsome husband-- and that, the day's work being
done, and the prisoners stored away for the night,
thou and I are alone together-- with a long, long
evening before us!
PHOEBE [with a grimace] It is a pretty picture-- but I
scarcely know. It cometh so unexpectedly-- and yet--and
yet-- were I thy bride--
WILFRED Aye!-- wert thou my bride--?
PHOEBE Oh, how I would love thee!
No. 11. Were I thy bride
(SONG)
Phoebe
PHOEBE Were I thy bride,
Then all the world beside
Were not too wide
To hold my wealth of love--
Were I thy bride!
Upon thy breast
My loving head would rest,
As on her nest
The tender turtle dove--
Were I thy bride!
This heart of mine
Would be one heart with thine,
And in that shrine
Our happiness would dwell--
Were I thy bride!
And all day long
Our lives should be a song:
No grief, no wrong
Should make my heart rebel--
Were I thy bride!
The silvery flute,
The melancholy lute,
Were night-owl's hoot
To my low-whispered coo--
Were I thy bride!
The skylark's trill
Were but discordance shrill
To the soft thrill
Of wooing as I'd woo--
Were I thy bride!
[MERYLL re-enters; gives keys to PHOEBE, who replaces
them at WILFRED's girdle, unnoticed by him. Exit
MERYLL.
The rose's sigh
Were as a carrion's cry
To lullaby
Such as I'd sing to thee,
Were I thy bride!
A feather's press
Were leaden heaviness to my caress.
But then, of course, you see,
I'm not thy bride.
[Exit PHOEBE
WILFRED No, thou'rt not-- not yet! But, Lord, how she woo'd; I
should be no mean judge of wooing, seeing that I have
been more hotly woo'd than most men. I have been woo'd
by maid, widow, and wife. I have been woo'd boldly,
timidly, tearfully, shyly-- by direct assault, by
suggestion, by implication, by inference, and by
innuendo. But this wooing is not of the common order;
it is the wooing of one who must needs me, if she die
for it!
[Exit WILFRED. Enter SERGEANT MERRILL, cautiously, from
Tower.
MERYLL [looking after them] The deed is, so far, safely
accomplished. The slyboots, how she wheedled him! What
a helpless ninny is a love-sick man! He is but as a
lute in a woman's hands-- she plays upon him whatever
tune she will. But the Colonel comes. I' faith, he's
just in time, for the Yeomen parade here for his
execution in two minutes!
[Enter FAIRFAX, without beard and moustache, and dressed in
Yeoman's uniform.
FAIRFAX My good and kind friend, thou runnest a grave risk for
me!
MERYLL Tut, sir, no risk. I'll warrant none here will
recognise you. You make a brave Yeoman, sir! So-- this
ruff is too high; so-- and the sword should hang thus.
Here is your halbert, sir; carry it thus. The Yeomen
come. Now, remember, you are my brave son, Leonard
Meryll.
FAIRFAX If I may not bear mine own name, there is none other
I would bear so readily.
MERYLL Now, sir, put a bold face on it, for they come.
No. 12. Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true
(FINALE OF ACT I)
Ensemble
[Enter YEOMEN of the Guard
YEOMEN Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true--
The welcome news we read in orders?
Thy son, whose deeds of derring-do
Are echoed all the country through,
Has come to join the Tower Warders?
If so, we come to meet him,
That we may fitly greet him,
And welcome his arrival here
With shout on shout and cheer on cheer,
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
MERYLL Ye Tower warders, nursed in war's alarms,
Suckled on gunpowder, and weaned on glory,
Behold my son, whose all-subduing arms
Have formed the theme of many a song and story!
Forgive his aged father's pride; nor jeer
His aged father's sympathetic tear!
[Pretending to weep]
YEOMEN Leonard Meryll!
Leonard Meryll!
Dauntless he in time of peril!
Man of power,
Knighthood's flower,
Welcome to the grim old Tower,
To the Tower, welcome thou!
FAIRFAX Forbear, my friends, and spare me this ovation,
I have small claim to such consideration;
The tales that of my prowess are narrated
Have been prodigiously exaggerated,
prodigiously exaggerated!
YEOMEN 'Tis ever thus!
Wherever valor true is found,
True modesty will there abound.
1ST YEOMAN Didst thou not, oh, Leonard Meryll!
Standard lost in last campaign,
Rescue it at deadly peril--
Bear it safely back again?
YEOMEN Leonard Meryll, at his peril,
Bore it safely back again!
2ND YEOMAN Didst thou not, when prisoner taken,
And debarred from all escape,
Face, with gallant heart unshaken,
Death in most appalling shape?
YEOMEN Leonard Meryll, faced his peril,
Death in most appalling shape!
FAIRFAX [aside] Truly I was to be pitied,
Having but an hour to live,
I reluctantly submitted,
I had no alternative!
FAIRFAX [aloud] Oh! the tales that are narrated
Of my deeds of derring-do
Have been much exaggerated,
Very much exaggerated,
Scarce a word of them is true!
Scarce a word of them is true!
YEOMEN They are not exaggerated,
Not at all exaggerated,
Could not be exaggerated,
Ev'ry word of them is true!
3RD YEOMAN [optional] You, when brought to execution,
Like a demigod of yore,
With heroic resolution
Snatched a sword and killed a score.
YEOMEN [optional] Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll
Snatched a sword and killed a score!
4TH YEOMAN [optional] Then escaping from the foemen,
Boltered with the blood you shed,
You, defiant, fearing no men,
Saved your honour and your head!
YEOMEN [optional] Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll
Saved his honour and his head.
FAIRFAX [optional] True, my course with judgement
shaping,
Favoured, too, by lucky star,
I succeeded in escaping
Prison-bolt and prison bar!
FAIRFAX [optional] Oh! the tales that are narrated
Of my deeds of derring-do
Have been much exaggerated,
Very much exaggerated,
Scarce a word of them is true!
Scarce a word of them is true!
YEOMEN [optional] They are not exaggerated,
Not at all exaggerated,
Could not be exaggerated,
Ev'ry word of them is true!
[Enter PHOEBE. She rushes to FAIRFAX. Enter WILFRED.
PHOEBE Leonard!
FAIRFAX [puzzled] I beg your pardon?
PHOEBE Don't you know me? I'm little Phoebe!
FAIRFAX [still puzzled] Phoebe? Is this Phoebe?
What! little Phoebe?
[aside] Who the deuce may she be?
It can't be Phoebe, surely?
WILFRED Yes, 'tis Phoebe--
Your sister Phoebe! Your own little sister!
YEOMEN Aye, he speaks the truth; 'Tis Phoebe!
FAIRFAX [pretending to recognise her]
Sister Phoebe!
PHOEBE Oh, my brother!
FAIRFAX Why, how you've grown!
I did not recognize you!
PHOEBE So many years! Oh, brother!
FAIRFAX Oh, my sister!
BOTH Oh, brother!/Oh, sister!
WILFRED Aye, hug him, girl!
There are three thou mayst hug--
Thy father and thy brother and-- myself!
FAIRFAX Thyself, forsooth?
And who art thou thyself?
WILFRED Good sir, we are betrothed.
[FAIRFAX turns inquiringly to PHOEBE
PHOEBE Or more or less--
But rather less than more!
WILFRED To thy fond care
I do commend thy sister.
Be to her
An ever-watchful guardian-- eagle-eyed!
And when she feels (as sometimes she does feel)
Disposed to indiscriminate caress,
Be thou at hand to take those favours from her!
YEOMEN Be thou at hand to take those favours from her!
PHOEBE Yes, yes.
Be thou at hand to take those favours from me!
WILFRED To thy fraternal care
Thy sister I commend;
From every lurking snare
Thy lovely charge defend;
And to achieve this end,
Oh! grant, I pray, this boon--
Oh! grant this boon
She shall not quit my sight;
From morn to afternoon--
From afternoon to night--
From sev'n o'clock to two--
From two to eventide--
From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night,
From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night
She shall not quit my side!
YEOMEN From morn to afternoon--
From afternoon to 'lev'n at night
She shall not quit thy side!
PHOEBE So amiable I've grown,
So innocent as well,
That if I'm left alone
The consequences fell
No mortal can foretell.
So grant, I pray, this boon--
Oh! grant this boon
I shall not quit thy sight:
From morn to afternoon--
From afternoon to night--
From sev'n o'clock to two--
From two to eventide--
From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night
From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night
I shall not quit thy side!
YEOMEN From morn to afternoon--
From afternoon to 'lev'n at night
She shall not quit thy side!
FAIRFAX With brotherly readiness,
For my fair sister's sake,
At once I answer "Yes"--
That task I undertake--
My word I never break.
I freely grant that boon,
And I'll repeat my plight.
From morn to afternoon-- [kiss]
From afternoon to night-- [kiss]
From sev'n o'clock to two-- [kiss]
From two to evening meal-- [kiss]
From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night,
From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night,
That compact I will seal. [kiss]
YEOMEN From morn to afternoon,
From afternoon to 'lev'n at night
He freely grants that boon.
[The bell of St. Peter's begins to toll. The CROWD enters;
the block is brought on to the stage, and the HEADSMAN
takes his place. The YEOMEN of the Guard form up. The
LIEUTENANT enters and takes his place, and tells off
FAIRFAX and two others to bring the prisoner to execution.
WILFRED, FAIRFAX, and TWO YEOMEN exeunt to Tower.
CHORUS The prisoner comes to meet his doom;
The block, the headsman, and the tomb.
The funeral bell begins to toll;
May Heav'n have mercy on his soul!
May Heav'n have mercy on his soul!
ELSIE Oh, Mercy, thou whose smile has shone
So many a captive heart upon;
Of all immured within these walls,
To-day the very worthiest falls!
ALL Oh, Mercy, thou whose smile has shone
So many a captive heart upon;
Of all immured within these walls,
The very worthiest falls.
Oh, Mercy, Oh, Mercy!
[Enter FAIRFAX and TWO YEOMEN from Tower in great
excitement.
FAIRFAX My lord! I know not how to tell
The news I bear!
I and my comrades sought the pris'ner's cell--
He is not there!
ALL He is not there!
They sought the pris'ner's cell--
he is not there!
FAIRFAX AND
TWO YEOMEN As escort for the prisoner
We sought his cell, in duty bound;
The double gratings open were,
No prisoner at all we found!
We hunted high, we hunted low,
We hunted here, we hunted there--
The man we sought with anxious care
Had vanished into empty air!
The man we sought with anxious care
Had vanished into empty air!
[Exit LIEUTENANT
WOMEN Now, by my troth, the news is fair,
The man has vanished into air!
ALL As escort for the prisoner
We/they sought his cell in duty bound;
The double gratings open were,
No prisoner at all we/they found,
We/they hunted high, we/they hunted low,
We/they hunted here, we/they hunted there,
The man we/they sought with anxious care
Had vanished into empty air!
The man we/they sought with anxious care
Had vanished into empty air!
[Enter WILFRED, followed by LIEUTENANT
LIEUT. Astounding news! The pris'ner fled!
[To WILFRED] Thy life shall forfeit be instead!
[WILFRED is arrested
WILFRED My lord, I did not set him free,
I hate the man-- my rival he!
MERYLL The pris'ner gone-- I'm all agape!
LIEUT. Thy life shall forfeit be instead!
MERYLL Who could have helped him to escape?
WILFRED My lord, I did not set him free!
PHOEBE Indeed I can't imagine who!
I've no idea at all, have you?
[Enter JACK POINT
DAME Of his escape no traces lurk,
Enchantment must have been at work!
ELSIE [aside to POINT]
What have I done? Oh, woe is me!
PHOEBE & DAME Indeed I can't imagine who!
I've no idea at all, have you?
ELSIE I am his wife, and he is free!
POINT Oh, woe is you? Your anguish sink!
Oh, woe is me, I rather think!
Oh, woe is me, I rather think!
Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
Whate'er betide
You are his bride,
And I am left
Alone-- bereft!
Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me,
Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
ENSEMBLE All frenzied with despair I/they rave,
The grave is cheated of its due.
Who is, who is the misbegotten knave
Who hath contrived this deed to do?
Let search, let search
Be made throughout the land,
Or his/my vindictive anger dread--
A thousand marks, a thousand marks
he'll/I'll hand
Who brings him here, alive or dead,
Who brings him here, alive or dead!
A thousand marks, a thousand marks,
Alive, alive or dead
Alive, alive or dead
Who brings him here, alive, alive, or dead.
[At the end, ELSIE faints in FAIRFAX's arms; all the YEOMEN
and CROWD rush off the stage in different directions, to
hunt for the fugitive, leaving only the HEADSMAN on the
stage, and ELSIE insensible in FAIRFAX's arms.
END OF ACT I
ACT II
[SCENE.-- The same-- Moonlight.]
[Two days have elapsed.]
[WOMEN and YEOMEN of the Guard discovered.
No. 13. Night has spread her pall once more
(CHORUS AND SOLO)
People, Yeomen, and Dame Carruthers
CHORUS Night has spread her pall once more,
And the pris'ner still is free:
Open is his dungeon door,
Useless now his dungeon key.
He has shaken off his yoke--
How, no mortal man can tell!
Shame on loutish jailor-folk--
Shame on sleepy sentinel!
[Enter DAME CARRUTHERS and KATE
DAME Warders are ye?
Whom do ye ward?
Warders are ye?
Whom do ye ward?
Bolt, bar, and key,
Shackle and cord,
Fetter and chain,
Dungeon and stone,
All are in vain--
Prisoner's flown!
Spite of ye all, he is free-- he is free!
Whom do ye ward? Pretty warders are ye!
WOMEN Pretty warders are ye!
Whom do ye ward?
Spite of ye all, he is free-- he is free!
Whom do ye ward?
Pretty warders are ye!
MEN Up and down, and in and out,
Here and there, and round about;
Ev'ry chamber, ev'ry house,
Ev'ry chink that holds a mouse,
Ev'ry crevice in the keep,
Where a beetle black could creep,
Ev'ry outlet, ev'ry drain,
Have we searched, but all in vain, all in vain.
WOMEN Warders are ye?
Whom do ye ward?
MEN Ev'ry house, ev'ry chink, ev'ry drain,
WOMEN Warders are ye?
Whom do ye ward?
MEN Ev'ry chamber, ev'ry outlet,
Have we searched, but all in vain.
WOMEN Night has spread her pall once more,
And the pris'ner still is free:
MEN Warders are we? Whom do we ward?
Whom do we ward?
Warders are we? Whom do we ward?
Whom do we ward?
WOMEN Open is his dungeon door,
Useless his dungeon key!
ALL Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!
MEN Pretty warders are we, he is free!
Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!
WOMEN Open is his dungeon door,
MEN Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!
Pretty warders are we, he is free! He is free!
WOMEN He is free! He is free!
Pretty warders are ye,
ALL He is free! He is free!
Pretty warders are ye/we!
[Exeunt all.
[Enter JACK POINT, in low spirits, reading from a huge
volume
POINT [reads] "The Merrie Jestes of Hugh Ambrose, No.
7863.The Poor Wit and the Rich Councillor. A certayne
poor wit, being an-hungered, did meet a well-fed
councillor.'Marry, fool,' quothe the councillor,
'whither away?' 'In truth,' said the poor wag, 'in
that I have eaten naught these two dayes, I do wither
away, and that right rapidly!' The Councillor laughed
hugely, and gave him a sausage." Humph! the councillor
was easier to please than my new master the
Lieutenant. I would like to take post under that
councillor. Ah! 'tis but melancholy mumming when poor
heart-broken, jilted Jack Point must needs turn to
Hugh Ambrose for original light humour!
[Enter WILFRED, also in low spirits.
WILFRED [sighing] Ah, Master Point!
POINT [changing his manner] Ha! friend jailer! Jailer that
wast-- jailer that never shalt be more! Jailer that
jailed not, or that jailed, if jail he did, so
unjailery that 'twas but jerry-jailing, or jailing in
joke-- though no joke to him who, by unjailerlike
jailing, did so jeopardise his jailership. Come, take
heart, smile, laugh, wink, twinkle, thou tormentor
that tormentest none-- thou racker that rackest not--
thou pincher out of place-- come, take heart, and be
merry, as I am!-- [aside, dolefully]-- as I am!
WILFRED Aye, it's well for thee to laugh. Thou hast a good
post, and hast cause to be merry.
POINT [bitterly] Cause? Have we not all cause? Is not the
world a big butt of humour, into which all who will
may drive a gimlet? See, I am a salaried wit; and is
there aught in nature more ridiculous? A poor, dull,
heart-broken man, who must needs be merry, or he will
be whipped; who must rejoice, lest he starve; who must
jest you, jibe you, quip you, crank you, wrack you,
riddle you, from hour to hour, from day to day, from
year to year, lest he dwindle, perish, starve,
pine,and die! Why, when there's naught else to laugh
at, I laugh at myself till I ache for it!
WILFRED Yet I have often thought that a jester's calling would
suit me to a hair.
POINT Thee? Would suit thee, thou death's head and crossbones?
WILFRED Aye, I have a pretty wit-- a light, airy, joysome wit,
spiced with anecdotes of prison cells and the torture
chamber. Oh, a very delicate wit! I have tried it on
many a prisoner, and there have been some who smiled.
Now it is not easy to make a prisoner smile. And it
should not be difficult to be a good jester, seeing
that thou are one.
POINT Difficult? Nothing easier. Nothing easier. Attend, and
I will prove it to thee!
No. 14. Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon
(SONG)
Point
POINT Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon,
If you listen to popular rumour;
From morning to night he's so joyous and bright,
And he bubbles with wit and good humour!
He's so quaint and so terse,
Both in prose and in verse;
Yet though people forgive his transgression,
There are one or two rules that all family fools
Must observe, if they love their profession.
There are one or two rules,
Half-a-dozen, maybe,
That all family fools,
Of whatever degree,
Must observe if they love their profession.
If you wish to succeed as a jester, you'll need
To consider each person's auricular:
What is all right for B would quite scandalize C
(For C is so very particular);
And D may be dull, and E's very thick skull
Is as empty of brains as a ladle;
While F is F sharp, and will cry with a carp,
That he's known your best joke from his cradle!
When your humour they flout,
You can't let yourself go;
And it does put you out
When a person says, "Oh!
I have known that old joke from my cradle!"
If your master is surly, from getting up early
(And tempers are short in the morning),
An inopportune joke is enough to provoke
Him to give you, at once, a month's warning.
Then if you refrain, he is at you again,
For he likes to get value for money:
He'll ask then and there, with an insolent stare,
"If you know that you're paid to be funny?"
It adds to the tasks
Of a merryman's place,
When your principal asks,
With a scowl on his face,
If you know that you're paid to be funny?
Comes a Bishop, maybe, or a solemn D.D.--
Oh, beware of his anger provoking!
Better not pull his hair--
Don't stick pins in his chair;
He won't understand practical joking.
If the jests that you crack have an orthodox smack,
You may get a bland smile from these sages;
But should it, by chance, be imported from France,
Half-a-crown is stopped out of your wages!
It's a general rule,
Tho' your zeal it may quench,
If the Family Fool
Makes a joke that's too French,
Half-a-crown is stopped out of his wages!
Though your head it may rack with a bilious attack,
And your senses with toothache you're losing,
And you're mopy and flat--
they don't fine you for that
If you're properly quaint and amusing!
Though your wife ran away with a soldier that day,
And took with her your trifle of money;
Bless your heart, they don't mind--
they're exceedingly kind--
They don't blame you--as long as you're funny!
It's a comfort to feel
If your partner should flit,
Though you suffer a deal,
They don't mind it a bit--
They don't blame you--so long as you're funny!
POINT And so thou wouldst be a jester eh?
WILFRED Aye!
POINT Now, listen! My sweetheart, Elsie Maynard, was
secretly wed to this Fairfax half an hour ere he
escaped.
WILFRED She did well.
POINT She did nothing of the kind, so hold thy peace and
perpend. Now, while he liveth she is dead to me and I
to her, and so, my jibes and jokes notwithstanding, I
am the saddest and the sorriest dog in England!
WILFRED Thou art a very dull dog indeed.
POINT Now, if thou wilt swear that thou didst shoot this
Fairfax while he was trying to swim across the river--
it needs but the discharge of an arquebus on a dark
night-- and that he sank and was seen no more, I'll
make thee the very Archbishop of jesters, and that in
two days'time! Now, what sayest thou?
WILFRED I am to lie?
POINT Heartily. But thy lie must be a lie of circumstance,
which I will support with the testimony of eyes,
ears,and tongue.
WILFRED And thou wilt qualify me as a jester?
POINT As a jester among jesters. I will teach thee all my
original songs, my self-constructed riddles, my own
ingenious paradoxes; nay, more, I will reveal to thee
the source whence I get them. Now, what sayest thou?
WILFRED Why, if it be but a lie thou wantest of me, I hold it
cheap enough, and I say yes, it is a bargain!
No. 15. Hereupon we're both agreed
(DUET)
Point and Wilfred
BOTH Hereupon we're both agreed,
All that we two
Do agree to
We'll secure by solemn deed,
To prevent all
Error mental.
POINT You on Elsie are to call
With a story
Grim and gory;
WILFRED How this Fairfax died, and all
I declare to
You're to swear to.
POINT I to swear to!
WILFRED I declare to,
POINT I to swear to!
WILFRED I declare to,
BOTH I to swear to,/I declare to,
You declare to,/You're to swear to,
I to swear to,/I declare to.
BOTH Tell a tale of cock and bull,
Of convincing detail full
Tale tremendous,
Heav'n defend us!
What a tale of cock and bull!
In return for your/my own part
You are/I am making, undertaking
To instruct me/you in the art
(Art amazing, wonder raising)
POINT Of a jester, jesting free.
Proud position--
High ambition!
WILFRED And a lively one I'll be,
Wag-a-wagging,
Never flagging!
POINT Wag-a-wagging,
WILFRED Never flagging,
POINT Wag-a-wagging,
WILFRED Never flagging,
BOTH Never flagging,/Wag-a-wagging,
Wag-a-wagging,/Never flagging,
Never flagging,/Wag-a-wagging!
BOTH Tell a tale of cock and bull,
Of convincing detail full
Tale tremendous,
Heav'n defend us!
What a tale of cock and bull!
POINT What a tale of cock,
WILFRED What a tale of bull!
POINT What a tale of cock,
WILFRED What a tale of bull!
BOTH What a tale of cock and bull,
Cock and bull, cock and bull,
Heav'n defend us!
What a tale of cock and bull!
[Exeunt together.
[Enter FAIRFAX
FAIRFAX Two days gone, and no news of poor Fairfax. The dolts!
They seek him everywhere save within a dozen yards of
his dungeon. So I am free! Free, but for the cursed
haste with which I hurried headlong into the bonds of
matrimony with-- Heaven knows whom! As far as I
remember, she should have been young; but even had not
her face been concealed by her kerchief, I doubt
whether, in my then plight, I should have taken much
note of her. Free? Bah! The Tower bonds were but a
thread of silk compared with these conjugal fetters
which I, fool that I was, placed upon mine own hands.
From the one I broke readily enough-- how to break the
other!
No. 16. Free from his fetters grim
(BALLAD)
Fairfax
FAIRFAX Free from his fetters grim--
Free to depart;
Free both in life and limb--
In all but heart!
Bound to an unknown bride
For good and ill;
Ah, is not one so tied
A pris'ner still, a pris'ner still?
Ah, is not one so tied
A pris'ner still?
Free, yet in fetters held
Till his last hour,
Gyves that no smith can weld,
No rust devour!
Although a monarch's hand
Had set him free,
Of all the captive band
The saddest he, the saddest he!
Of all the captive band
The saddest, saddest he!
[Enter SERGEANT MERYLL
FAIRFAX Well, Sergeant Meryll, and how fares thy pretty
charge,Elsie Maynard?
MERYLL Well enough, sir. She is quite strong again, and
leaves us to-night.
FAIRFAX Thanks to Dame Carruthers' kind nursing, eh?
MERYLL Aye, deuce take the old witch! Ah, 'twas but a sorry
trick you played me, sir, to bring the fainting girl
to me. It gave the old lady an excuse for taking up
her quarters in my house, and for the last two years
I've shunned her like the plague. Another day of it
and she would have married me! [Enter DAME CARRUTHERS
and KATE] Good Lord, here she is again! I'll e'en go.
[Going]
DAME Nay, Sergeant Meryll, don't go. I have something of
grave import to say to thee.
MERYLL [aside] It's coming.
FAIRFAX [laughing] I'faith, I think I', not wanted here.
[Going]
DAME Nay, Master Leonard, I've naught to say to thy father
that his son may not hear.
FAIRFAX [aside] True. I'm one of the family; I had forgotten!
DAME 'Tis about this Elsie Maynard. A pretty girl, Master
Leonard.
FAIRFAX Aye, fair as a peach blossom-- what then?
DAME She hath a liking for thee, or I mistake not.
FAIRFAX With all my heart. She's as dainty a little amid as
you'll find in a midsummer day's march.
DAME Then be warned in time, and give not thy heart to her.
Oh, I know what it is to give my heart to one who will
have none of it!
MERYLL [aside] Aye, she knows all about that.
[Aloud] And why is my boy to take heed of her? She's
a good girl, Dame Carruthers.
DAME Good enough, for aught I know. But she's no girl.
She's a married woman.
MERYLL A married woman! Tush, old lady-- she's promised to
Jack Point, the Lieutenant's new jester.
DAME Tush in thy teeth, old man! As my niece Kate sat by
her bedside to-day, this Elsie slept, and as she slept
she moaned and groaned, and turned this way and that
way-- and, "How shall I marry one I have never seen?"
quoth she-- then, "An hundred crowns!" quoth she--
then,"Is it certain he will die in an hour?" quoth
she-- then, "I love him not, and yet I am his wife,"
quoth she! Is it not so, Kate?
KATE Aye, aunt, 'tis even so.
FAIRFAX Art thou sure of all this?
KATE Aye, sir, for I wrote it all down on my tablets.
DAME Now, mark my words: it was of this Fairfax she spake,
and he is her husband, or I'll swallow my kirtle!
MERYLL [aside] Is it true, sir?
FAIRFAX [aside to MERYLL] True? Why, the girl was raving!
[Aloud] Why should she marry a man who had but an hour
to live?
DAME Marry? There be those who would marry but for a
minute, rather than die old maids.
MERYLL [aside] Aye, I know one of them!
No. 17. Strange adventure!
(QUARTET)
Kate, Dame, Carruthers, Fairfax and Sergeant Meryll
ALL Strange adventure! Maiden wedded
To a groom she's never seen--
Never, never, never seen!
Groom about to be beheaded,
In an hour on Tower Green!
Tower, Tower, Tower Green!
Groom in dreary dungeon lying,
Groom as good as dead, or dying,
For a pretty maiden sighing--
Pretty maid of seventeen!
Seven-- seven-- seventeen!
Strange adventure that we're trolling:
Modest maid and gallant groom--
Gallant, gallant, gallant groom!--
While the funeral bell is tolling,
Tolling, tolling, Bim-a-boom!
Bim-a, Bim-a, Bim-a-boom!
Modest maiden will not tarry;
Though but sixteen year she carry,
She must marry, she must marry,
Though the altar be a tomb--
Tower-- Tower-- Tower tomb!
Tower tomb! Tower tomb!
Though the altar be a tomb!
Tower, Tower, Tower tomb!
[Exeunt DAME CARRUTHERS, MERYLL, and KATE.
FAIRFAX So my mysterious bride is no other than this winsome
Elsie! By my hand, 'tis no such ill plunge in
Fortune's lucky bag! I might have fared worse with my
eyes open! But she comes. Now to test her principles.
'Tis not every husband who has a chance of wooing his
own wife!
[Enter ELSIE
FAIRFAX Mistress Elsie!
ELSIE Master Leonard!
FAIRFAX So thou leavest us to-night?
ELSIE Yes. Master Leonard. I have been kindly tended, and I
almost fear I am loth to go.
FAIRFAX And this Fairfax. Wast thou glad when he escaped?
ELSIE Why, truly, Master Leonard, it is a sad thing that a
young and gallant gentleman should die in the very
fullness of his life.
FAIRFAX Then when thou didst faint in my arms, it was for joy
at his safety?
ELSIE It may be so. I was highly wrought, Master Leonard,
and I am but a girl, and so, when I an highly wrought,
I faint.
FAIRFAX Now, dost thou know, I am consumed with a parlous
jealousy?
ELSIE Thou? And of whom?
FAIRFAX Why, of this Fairfax, surely!
ELSIE Of Colonel Fairfax?
FAIRFAX Aye. Shall I be frank with thee? Elsie-- I love thee,
ardently, passionately! [ELSIE alarmed and surprised]
Elsie, I have loved thee these two days-- which is a
long time-- and I would fain join my life to thine!
ELSIE Master Leonard! Thou art jesting!
FAIRFAX Jesting? May I shrivel into raisins if I jest! I love
thee with a love that is a fever-- with a love that is
a frenzy-- with a love that eateth up my heart! What
sayest thou? Thou wilt not let my heart be eaten up?
ELSIE [aside] Oh, mercy! What am I to say?
FAIRFAX Dost thou love me, or hast thou been insensible these
two days?
ELSIE I love all brave men.
FAIRFAX Nay, there is love in excess. I thank heaven there are
many brave men in England; but if thou lovest them
all, I withdraw my thanks.
ELSIE I love the bravest best. But, sir, I may not listen--
I am not free-- I-- I am a wife!
FAIRFAX Thou a wife? Whose? His name? His hours are
numbered--nay, his grave is dug and his epitaph set up!
Come, his name?
ELSIE Oh, sir! keep my secret-- it is the only barrier that
Fate could set up between us. My husband is none other
than Colonel Fairfax!
FAIRFAX The greatest villain unhung! The most ill-favoured,
ill-mannered, ill-natured, ill-omened, ill-tempered
dog in Christendom!
ELSIE It is very like. He is naught to me-- for I never saw
him. I was blindfolded, and he was to have died within
the hour; and he did not die-- and I am wedded to him,
and my heart is broken!
FAIRFAX He was to have died, and he did not die? The
scoundrel! The perjured, traitorous villain! Thou
shouldst have insisted on his dying first, to make
sure. 'Tis the only way with these Fairfaxes.
ELSIE I now wish I had!
FAIRFAX [aside] Bloodthirsty little maiden!
[Aloud] A fig for this Fairfax! Be mine-- he will never
know-- he dares not show himself; and if he dare, what
art thou to him? Fly with me, Elsie-- we will be
married tomorrow, and thou shalt be the happiest wife
in England!
ELSIE Master Leonard! I am amazed! Is it thus that brave
soldiers speak to poor girls? Oh! for shame, for
shame! I am wed-- not the less because I love not my
husband. I am a wife, sir, and I have a duty, and-- oh,
sir!-- thy words terrify me-- they are not honest-- they
are wicked words, and unworthy thy great and brave
heart! Oh,shame upon thee! shame upon thee!
FAIRFAX Nay, Elsie, I did but jest. I spake but to try thee--
[Shot heard
[Enter SERGEANT MERYLL hastily
No. 18. Hark! What was that, sir?
(SCENE)
Elsie, Phoebe, Dame Carruthers, Fairfax. Wilfred, Point,
Lieutenant, Sergeant
MERYLL Hark! What was that, sir?
FAIRFAX Why, an arquebus--
Fired from the wharf, unless I much mistake.
MERYLL Strange-- and at such an hour! What can it mean!
[Enter CHORUS excitedly
CHORUS Now what can that have been--
A shot so late at night,
Enough to cause a fright!
What can the portent mean?
Are foemen in the land?
Is London to be wrecked?
What are we to expect?
What danger is at hand?
Let us understand
What danger is at hand!
[LIEUTENANT enters, also POINT and WILFRED
LIEUT. Who fired that shot? At once the truth declare?
WILFRED My lord, 'twas I-- to rashly judge forebear!
POINT My lord, 'twas he-- to rashly judge forebear!
WILFRED Like a ghost his vigil keeping--
POINT Or a spectre all-appalling--
WILFRED I beheld a figure creeping--
POINT I should rather call it crawling--
WILFRED He was creeping--
POINT He was crawling--
WILFRED He was creeping, creeping--
POINT Crawling!
WILFRED He was creeping--
POINT He was crawling--
WILFRED He was creeping, creeping--
POINT Crawling!
WILFRED Not a moment's hesitation--
I myself upon him flung,
With a hurried exclamation
To his draperies I hung;
Then we closed with one another
In a rough-and-tumble smother;
Col'nel Fairfax and no other
Was the man to whom I clung!
ALL Col'nel Fairfax and no other,
Was the man to whom he clung!
WILFRED After mighty tug and tussle--
POINT It resembled more a struggle--
WILFRED He, by dint of stronger muscle--
POINT Or by some infernal juggle--
WILFRED From my clutches quickly sliding--
POINT I should rather call it slipping--
WILFRED With a view, no doubt, of hiding--
POINT Or escaping to the shipping--
WILFRED With a gasp, and with a quiver--
POINT I'd describe it as a shiver--
WILFRED Down he dived into the river,
And, alas, I cannot swim.
ALL It's enough to make one shiver,
With a gasp, and with a quiver,
Down he dived into the river;
It was very brave of him!
WILFRED Ingenuity is catching;
With the view my King of pleasing,
Arquebus from sentry snatching--
POINT I should rather call it seizing--
WILFRED With an ounce or two of lead
I dispatched him through the head!
ALL With an ounce or two of lead
He dispatched him through the head!
WILFRED I discharged it without winking,
Little time I lost in thinking,
Like a stone I saw him sinking--
POINT I should say a lump of lead.
ALL He discharged it without winking,
Little time he lost in thinking.
WILFRED Like a stone I saw him sinking--
POINT I should say a lump of lead.
WILFRED Like a stone, my boy, I said--
POINT Like a heavy lump of lead.
WILFRED Like a stone, my boy, I said--
POINT Like a heavy lump of lead.
WILFRED Anyhow, the man is dead,
Whether stone or lump of lead!
ALL Anyhow, the man is dead,
Whether stone or lump of lead!
Arquebus from sentry seizing,
With the view his King of pleasing,
Arquebus from sentry seizing,
With the view his King of pleasing,
Wilfred shot him through the head,
And he's very, very dead!
And it matters very little
Whether stone or lump of lead,
It is very, very certain that
he's very, very dead!
LIEUT. The river must be dragged-- no time be lost;
The body must be found, at any cost.
To this attend without undue delay;
So set to work with what dispatch ye may!
[Exit LIEUTENANT
ALL Yes, yes,
We'll set to work with what dispatch we may!
[Men raise WILFRED, and carry him off on their shoulders.
ALL Hail the valiant fellow who
Did this deed of derring-do!
Honours wait on such an one;
By my head, 'twas bravely done,
'twas bravely done!
Now, by my head, 'twas bravely done!
[Exeunt all but ELSIE, POINT, FAIRFAX, and PHOEBE.
POINT [to ELSIE, who is weeping] Nay, sweetheart, be
comforted. This Fairfax was but a pestilent fellow,
and, as he had to die, he might as well die thus as
any other way. 'Twas a good death.
ELSIE Still, he was my husband, and had he not been, he was
nevertheless a living man, and now he is dead; and so,
by your leave, my tears may flow unchidden, Master
Point.
FAIRFAX And thou didst see all this?
POINT Aye, with both eyes at once-- this and that. The
testimony of one eye is naught-- he may lie. But when
it is corroborated by the other, it is good evidence
that none may gainsay. Here are both present in court,
ready to swear to him!
PHOEBE But art thou sure it was Colonel Fairfax? Saw you his
face?
POINT Aye, and a plaguey ill-favoured face too. A very hangdog
face-- a felon face-- a face to fright the headsman
himself, and make him strike awry. Oh, a plaguey, bad
face, take my word for it. [PHOEBE and FAIRFAX laugh]
How they laugh! "Tis ever thus with simple folk-- an
accepted wit has but to say "Pass the mustard," and
they roar their ribs out!
FAIRFAX [aside] If ever I come to life again, thou shalt pay
for this, Master Point!
POINT Now, Elsie, thou art free to choose again, so behold
me: I am young and well-favoured. I have a pretty wit.
I can jest you, jibe you, quip you, crank you, wrack
you, riddle you--
FAIRFAX Tush, man, thou knowest not how to woo. 'Tis not to be
done with time-worn jests and thread-bare sophistries;
with quips, conundrums, rhymes, and paradoxes. 'Tis an
art in itself, and must be studied gravely and
conscientiously.
No. 19. A man who would woo a fair maid
(TRIO)
Elsie, Phoebe, and Fairfax
FAIRFAX A man who would woo a fair maid,
Should 'prentice himself to the trade;
And study all day,
In methodical way,
How to flatter, cajole, and persuade.
He should 'prentice himself at fourteen,
And practise from morning to e'en;
And when he's of age,
If he will, I'll engage,
He may capture the heart of a queen,
the heart of a queen!
ALL It is purely a matter of skill,
Which all may attain if they will.
But every Jack
He must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
ELSIE If he's made the best use of his time,
His twig he'll so carefully lime
That every bird
Will come down at his word,
Whatever its plumage and clime.
He must learn that the thrill of a touch
May mean little, or nothing, or much;
It's an instrument rare,
To be handled with care,
And ought to be treated as such,
Ought to be treated as such.
ALL It is purely a matter of skill,
Which all may attain if they will:
But every Jack,
He must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
PHOEBE Then a glance may be timid or free;
It will vary in mighty degree,
From an impudent stare
To a look of despair
That no maid without pity can see!
And a glance of despair is no guide--
It may have its ridiculous side;
It may draw you a tear
Or a box on the ear;
You can never be sure till you've tried!
Never be sure till you've tried!
ALL It is purely a matter of skill,
Which all may attain if they will:
But every Jack,
He must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill,
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
But every Jack,
He must study the knack,
But every Jack,
Must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
Yes, every Jack,
Must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
FAIRFAX [aside to POINT] Now, listen to me-- 'tis done thus--
[aloud] Mistress Elsie, there is one here who, as thou
knowest, loves thee right well!
POINT [aside] That he does-- right well!
FAIRFAX He is but a man of poor estate, but he hath a loving,
honest heart. He will be a true and trusty husband to
thee, and if thou wilt be his wife, thou shalt lie
curled up in his heart, like a little squirrel in its
nest!
POINT [aside] 'Tis a pretty figure. A maggot in a nut lies
closer, but a squirrel will do.
FAIRFAX He knoweth that thou wast a wife-- an unloved and
unloving wife, and his poor heart was near to
breaking. But now that thine unloving husband is dead,
and thou art free, he would fain pray that thou
wouldst hearken unto him, and give him hope that thou
wouldst one day be his!
PHOEBE [alarmed] He presses her hands-- and whispers in her
ear! Ods bodikins, what does it mean?
FAIRFAX Now, sweetheart, tell me-- wilt thou be this poor
goodfellow's wife?
ELSIE If the good, brave man-- is he a brave man?
FAIRFAX So men say.
POINT [aside] That's not true, but let it pass.
ELSIE If the brave man will be content with a poor,
penniless, untaught maid--
POINT [aside] Widow-- but let that pass.
ELSIE I will be his true and loving wife, and that with my
heart of hearts!
FAIRFAX My own dear love! [Embracing her]
PHOEBE [in great agitation] Why, what's all this? Brother--
brother-- it is not seemly!
POINT [also alarmed, aside] Oh, I can't let that pass!
[Aloud] Hold, enough, Master Leonard! An advocate
should have his fee, but methinks thou art over-paying
thyself!
FAIRFAX Nay, that is for Elsie to say. I promised thee I would
show thee how to woo, and herein lies the proof of the
virtue of my teaching. Go thou, and apply it
elsewhere! [PHOEBE bursts into tears]
No. 20. When a wooer goes a-wooing
(QUARTET)
Elsie, Phoebe, Fairfax, and Point
ELSIE When a wooer Goes a-wooing,
Naught is truer Than his joy.
FAIRFAX Maiden hushing All his suing--
Boldly blushing, bravely coy!
Bravely coy! Boldly blushing--
ELSIE Boldly blushing, bravely coy!
ALL Oh, the happy days of doing!
Oh, the sighing and the suing!
When a wooer goes a-wooing,
Oh the sweets that never cloy!
PHOEBE [weeping] When a brother leaves his sister
For another, sister weeps,
Tears that trickle,
Tears that blister--
'Tis but mickle Sister reaps!
ALL Oh, the doing and undoing,
Oh, the sighing and the suing,
When a brother goes a-wooing,
And a sobbing sister weeps!
POINT When a jester Is outwitted,
Feelings fester, Heart is lead!
Food for fishes Only fitted,
Jester wishes He was dead!
Food for fishes Only fitted,
Jester wishes He was dead!
ALL Oh, the doing and undoing,
Oh, the sighing and the suing,
When a jester goes a-wooing,
And he wishes he was dead!
Oh, the doing and undoing,
Oh, the sighing and the suing,
When a jester goes a-wooing,
And he wishes he was dead,
And he wishes he was dead!
[Exeunt all but PHOEBE, who remains weeping.
PHOEBE And I helped that man to escape, and I've kept his
secret, and pretended that I was his dearly loving
sister, and done everything I could think of to make
folk believe I was his loving sister, and this is his
gratitude! Before I pretend to be sister to anybody
again, I'll turn nun, and be sister to everybody-- one
as much as another!
[Enter WILFRED
WILFRED In tears, eh? What a plague art thou grizzling for
now?
PHOEBE Why am I grizzling? Thou hast often wept for jealousy--
well, 'tis for jealousy I weep now. Aye, yellow,
bilious, jaundiced jealousy. So make the most of that,
Master Wilfred.
WILFRED But I have never given thee cause for jealousy. The
Lieutenant's cook-maid and I are but the merest
gossips!
PHOEBE Jealous of thee! Bah! I'm jealous of no craven cockon-
a-hill, who crows about what he'd do an he dared!
I am jealous of another and a better man than thou--
set that down, Master Wilfred. And he is to marry
Elsie Maynard, the pale little fool-- set that down
Master Wilfred-- and my heart is wellnigh broken!
There, thou hast it all! Make the most of it!
WILFRED The man thou lovest is to marry Elsie Maynard? Why,
that is no other than thy brother, Leonard Meryll!
PHOEBE [aside] Oh, mercy! what have I said?
WILFRED Why, what matter of brother is this, thou lying little
jade? Speak! Who is this man whom thou hast called
brother, and fondled, and coddled, and kissed!-- with
my connivance, too! Oh Lord! with my connivance! Ha!
should it be this Fairfax! [PHOEBE starts] It is! It
is this accursed Fairfax! It's Fairfax! Fairfax, who--
PHOEBE Whom thou hast just shot through the head, and who
lies at the bottom of the river!
WILFRED A-- I-- I may have been mistaken. We are but fallible
mortals, the best of us. But I'll make sure-- I'll make
sure. [Going]
PHOEBE Stay-- one word. I think it cannot be Fairfax-- mind, I
say I think-- because thou hast just slain Fairfax. But
whether he be Fairfax or no Fairfax, he is to marry
Elsie-- and-- and-- as thou hast shot him through the
head, and he is dead, be content with that, and I will
be thy wife!
WILFRED Is that sure?
PHOEBE Aye, sure enough, for there's no help for it! Thou art
a very brute-- but even brutes must marry, I suppose.
WILFRED My beloved. [Embraces her]
PHOEBE [aside] Ugh!
[Enter LEONARD MERYLL, hastily
LEONARD Phoebe, rejoice, for I bring glad tidings. Colonel
Fairfax's reprieve was signed two days since, but it
was foully and maliciously kept back by Secretary
Poltwhistle, who designed that it should arrive after
the Colonel's death. It hath just come to hand, and it
is now in the Lieutenant's possession!
PHOEBE Then the Colonel is free? Oh, kiss me, kiss me, my
dear! Kiss me, again, and again!
WILFRED [dancing with fury] Ods bobs, death o' my life! Art
thou mad? Am I mad? Are we all mad?
PHOEBE Oh, my dear-- my dear, I'm well nigh crazed with joy!
[Kissing LEONARD]
WILFRED Come away from him, thou hussy-- thou jade-- thou
kissing, clinging cockatrice! And as for thee, sir,
devil take thee, I'll rip thee like a herring for
this! I'll skin thee for it! I'll cleave thee to the
chine! I'll-- oh! Phoebe! Phoebe! Who is this man?
PHOEBE Peace, fool. He is my brother!
WILFRED Another brother! Are there any more of them? Produce
them all at once, and let me know the worst!
PHOEBE This is the real Leonard, dolt; the other was but his
substitute. The real Leonard, I say-- my father's own
son.
WILFRED How do I know this? Has he "brother" writ large on his
brow? I mistrust thy brothers! Thou art but a false
jade!
[Exit LEONARD.
PHOEBE Now, Wilfred, be just. Truly I did deceive thee
before-- but it was to save a precious life-- and to
save it, not for me, but for another. They are to be
wed this very day. Is not this enough for thee? Come--
I am thy Phoebe-- thy very own-- and we will be wed in
a year-- or two-- or three, at the most. Is not that
enough for thee?
[Enter SERGEANT MERYLL, excitedly, followed by DAME
CARRUTHERS, who listens, unobserved.
MERYLL Phoebe, hast thou heard the brave news?
PHOEBE [still in WILFRED's arms] Aye, father.
MERYLL I'm nigh mad with joy! [Seeing WILFRED] Why, what's
all this?
PHOEBE Oh, father, he discovered our secret thorough my
folly, and the price of his silence is--
WILFRED Phoebe's heart.
PHOEBE Oh, dear, no-- Phoebe's hand.
WILFRED It's the same thing!
PHOEBE Is it?
[Exeunt WILFRED and PHOEBE.
MERYLL [looking after them] "Tis pity, but the Colonel had to
be saved at any cost, and as thy folly revealed our
secret, thy folly must e'en suffer for it!
[DAME CARRUTHERS comes down] Dame Carruthers!
DAME So this is a plot to shield this arch-fiend, and I
have detected it. A word from me, and three heads
besides his would roll from their shoulders!
MERYLL Nay, Colonel Fairfax is reprieved.
[Aside] Yet, if my complicity in his escape were
known! Plague on the old meddler! There's nothing for
it--
[aloud]-- Hush, pretty one! Such bloodthirsty words ill
become those cherry lips!
[Aside] Ugh!
DAME [bashfully] Sergeant Meryll!
MERYLL Why, look ye, chuck-- for many a month I've-- I've
thought to myself-- "There's snug love saving up in
that middle-aged bosom for some one, and why not for
thee-- that's me-- so take heart and tell her-- that's
thee-- that thou-- that's me-- lovest her-- thee-- and--
and-- well,I'm a miserable old man, and I've done it--
and that's me!" But not a word about Fairfax! The
price of thy silence is--
DAME Meryll's heart?
MERYLL No, Meryll's hand.
DAME It's the same thing!
MERYLL Is it?
No. 21. Rapture, rapture
(DUET)
Dame Carruthers and Sergeant Meryll
DAME Rapture, rapture
When love's votary,
Flushed with capture,
Seeks the notary,
Joy and jollity
Then is polity;
Reigns frivolity!
Rapture, rapture!
Joy and jollity
Then is polity;
Reigns frivolity!
Rapture, rapture!
MERYLL Doleful, doleful!
When humanity
With its soul full
Of satanity,
Courting privity,
Down declivity
Seeks captivity!
Doleful, doleful!
Courting privity,
Down declivity
Seeks captivity!
Doleful, doleful!
DAME Joyful, joyful!
When virginity
Seeks, all coyful,
Man's affinity;
Fate all flowery,
Bright and bowery,
Is her dowery!
Joyful, joyful!
Fate all flowery,
Bright and bowery,
Is her dowery!
Joyful, joyful!
MERYLL Ghastly, ghastly!
When man, sorrowful,
Firstly, lastly,
Of to-morrow full,
After tarrying,
Yields to harrying--
Goes a-marrying.
Ghastly, ghastly!
DAME Joyful, joyful!
MERYLL Ghastly, ghastly!
DAME Joyful, joyful!
MERYLL Ghastly, ghastly!
DAME MERYLL
Joyful, joyful! Ghastly, ghastly!
Joyful, joyful, joyful! Ghastly, ghastly,ghastly!
Rapture, rapture Doleful, doleful!
When love's votary, When humanity
Flushed with capture, With its soul full
Seeks the notary, Of satanity,
Joy and jollity Courting privity,
Then is polity; Down declivity
Reigns frivolity! Seeks captivity!
Rapture, rapture! Doleful, doleful!
Joy and jollity Courting privity,
Then is polity; Down declivity
Reigns frivolity! Seeks captivity!
Rapture, rapture! Doleful, doleful!
Rapture, rapture! Doleful, doleful!
Rapture, rapture, Doleful, doleful,
Rapture, rapture! Doleful, doleful!
Joy and jollity Courting privity,
Then is polity; Down declivity
Reigns frivolity! Seeks captivity!
Rapture, rapture! Doleful, doleful!
[Exeunt DAME and SERGEANT MERYLL.
No. 22. Comes the pretty young bride
(FINALE OF ACT II)
Ensemble
[Enter YEOMEN and WOMEN
WOMEN Comes the pretty young bride,
a-blushing, timidly shrinking--
Set all thy fears aside--
cheerily, pretty young bride!
Brave is the youth to whom thy lot
thou art willingly linking!
Flower of valour he--
loving as loving can be!
Brightly thy summer is shining,
Brightly thy summer is shining,
Fair as the dawn, as the dawn of the day;
Take him, be true to him--
Tender his due to him--
Honour him, honour him, love and obey!
[Enter DAME, PHOEBE, and ELSIE as Bride
PHOEBE, ELSIE
& DAME 'Tis said that joy in full perfection
Comes only once to womankind--
That, other times, on close inspection,
Some lurking bitter we shall find.
If this be so, and men say truly,
My day of joy has broken duly
With happiness my/her soul is cloyed--
With happiness is cloyed--
With happiness my/her soul is cloyed--
This is my/her joy-day
unalloyed, unalloyed,
This is my/her joy-day unalloyed!
ALL Yes, yes, with happiness her soul is cloyed!
This is her joy-day unalloyed!
[Flourish. Enter LIEUTENANT
LIEUT. Hold, pretty one! I bring to thee
News-- good or ill, it is for thee to say.
Thy husband lives-- and he is free,
And comes to claim his bride this very day!
ELSIE No! No! recall those words-- it cannot be!
[all four blocks below sung at once]
KATE and CHORUS DAME CARRUTHERS and PHOEBE
Oh, day of terror! Oh, day of terror!
Oh, day of terror! Oh, day of terror!
Day of terror! The man to whom thou art
Day of tears! allied
Day of terror! Appears to claim thee
Day of tears! as his bride.
Who is the man who, The man to whom thou art
In his pride, allied
Claims thee as his bride? And claim me as his bride.
Day of terror! Day of terror!
Day of tears! Day of tears!
LIEUT., MERYLL, and WILFRED ELSIE
Come, dry these unbecoming tears,
Most joyful tidings greet
thine ears,
Come, dry these unbecoming tears, Oh, Leonard,
Most joyful tidings greet Oh,Leonard,
thine ears, Come thou to my side,
The man to whom thou art allied And claim me as
Appears to claim thee thy loving bride!
as his bride. Day of terror!
The man to whom thou art allied Day of tears!
Appears to claim thee
as his bride.
[Flourish. Enter COLONEL FAIRFAX, handsomely dressed,and
attended by other Gentlemen
FAIRFAX [sternly] All thought of Leonard
Meryll set aside.
Thou art mine own! I claim thee as my bride.
ALL Thou art his own!
Alas! he claims thee as his bride.
ELSIE A suppliant at thy feet I fall;
Thine heart will yield to pity's call!
FAIRFAX Mine is a heart of massive rock,
Unmoved by sentimental shock!
ALL Thy husband he!
ELSIE [aside] Leonard, my loved one-- come to me.
They bear me hence away!
But though they take me far from thee,
My heart is thine for aye!
My bruised heart,
My broken heart,
Is thine, my own, for aye!
Is thine, is thine, my own,
Is thine, for aye!
ELSIE [To FAIRFAX] Sir, I obey!
I am thy bride;
But ere the fatal hour
I said the say
That placed me in thy pow'r
Would I had died!
Sir, I obey!
I am thy bride!
[Looks up and recognizes FAIRFAX
Leonard!
FAIRFAX My own!
ELSIE Ah! [Embrace]
ELSIE &
FAIRFAX With happiness my soul is cloyed,
This is our joy-day unalloyed!
ALL Yes, yes!
With happiness their souls are cloyed,
This is their joy-day unalloyed!
With happiness their souls are cloyed,
This is their joy-day unalloyed,
Their joy-day unalloyed, unalloyed!
[Enter JACK POINT
POINT Oh, thoughtless crew!
Ye know not what ye do!
Attend to me, and shed a tear or two--
For I have a song to sing, O!
ALL Sing me your song, O!
POINT It is sung to the moon
By a love-lorn loon,
Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
It's a song of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye.
ALL Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
ELSIE I have a song to sing, O!
ALL What is your song, O!
ELSIE It is sung with the ring
Of the songs maids sing
Who love with a love life-long, O!
It's the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud,
[optional-- nestling near,]
Who loved her lord, and who laughed aloud
[optional-- but dropped a tear]
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
ALL Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Heighdy! heighdy!
[FAIRFAX embraces ELSIE as POINT falls insensible at their
feet.
CURTAIN
PATIENCE
or
Bunthorne's Bride
Book by
W.S. GILBERT
Music by
ARTHUR SULLIVAN
First produced at the Opera Comique, London,
on April 23, 1881.
PATIENCE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Officers of Dragoon Guards
COLONEL CALVERLEY Baritone
MAJOR MURGATROYD Baritone
LIEUT. THE DUKE OF DUNSTABLE Tenor
REGINALD BUNTHORNE (A Fleshly Poet) Light Baritone
ARCHIBALD GROSVENOR (An Idyllic Poet) Baritone
MR. BUNTHORNE'S SOLICITOR Non-singing
Rapturous Maidens
THE LADY ANGELA Mezzo-Soprano
THE LADY SAPHIR Mezzo-Soprano
THE LADY ELLA Soprano
THE LADY JANE Contralto
PATIENCE (A Dairy Maid) Soprano
Chorus of Rapturous MAIDENS and Officers of DRAGOON GUARDS
ACT I--Exterior of Castle Bunthorne
ACT II--A Glade
ACT I
[Scene: Exterior of Castle Bunthorne, the gateway to which is
seen, R.U.E., and is approached by a drawbridge over a moat.
A rocky eminence R. with steps down to the stage. In front
of it, a rustic bench, on which ANGELA is seated, with ELLA
on her left. Young Ladies wearing aesthetic draperies are
grouped about the stage from R. to L.C., SAPHIR being near
the L. end of the group. The Ladies play on lutes, etc., as
they sing, and all are in the last stage of despair.]
No. 1. Twenty love-sick maidens we
(Opening Chorus and Solos)
Maidens, Angela, and Ella
MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
And we die for love of thee!
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
ANGELA Love feeds on hope, they say, or love will die;
MAIDENS Ah, miserie!
ANGELA Yet my love lives, although no hope have I!
MAIDENS Ah, miserie!
ANGELA Alas, poor heart, go hide thyself away,
To weeping concords tune thy roundelay!
Ah, miserie!
MAIDENS All our love is all for one,
Yet that love he heedeth not,
He is coy and cares for none,
Sad and sorry is our lot!
Ah, miserie!
ELLA Go, breaking heart,
Go, dream of love requited!
Go, foolish heart,
Go, dream of lovers plighted;
Go, madcap heart,
Go, dream of never waking;
And in thy dream
Forget that thou art breaking!
MAIDENS Ah, miserie!
ELLA Forget that thou art breaking!
MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still.
Ah, miserie!
ANGELA There is a strange magic in this love of ours! Rivals as
we all are in the affections of our Reginald, the very
hopelessness of our love is a bond that binds us to one another!
SAPHIR Jealousy is merged in misery. While he, the very
cynosure of our eyes and hearts, remains icy insensible -- what
have we to strive for?
ELLA The love of maidens is, to him, as interesting as the
taxes!
SAPHIR Would that it were! He pays his taxes.
ANGELA And cherishes the receipts!
[Enter LADY JANE, L.U.E.]
SAPHIR Happy receipts! [All sigh heavily]
JANE [L.C., suddenly] Fools! [They start, and turn to her]
ANGELA I beg your pardon?
JANE Fools and blind! The man loves -- wildly loves!
ANGELA But whom? None of us!
JANE No, none of us. His weird fancy has lighted, for the
nonce, on Patience, the village milkmaid!
SAPHIR On Patience? Oh, it cannot be!
JANE Bah! But yesterday I caught him in her dairy, eating fresh
butter with a tablespoon. Today he is not well!
SAPHIR But Patience boasts that she has never loved -- that love
is, to her, a sealed book! Oh, he cannot be serious!
JANE `Tis but a fleeting fancy -- `twill quickly wear away.
[aside, coming down-stage] Oh, Reginald, if you but knew what a
wealth of golden love is waiting for you, stored up in this
rugged old bosom of mine, the milkmaid's triumph would be short
indeed!
[PATIENCE appears on an eminence, R. She looks down with pity on
the despondent Ladies.]
No. 2. Still brooding on their mad infatuation!
(Recitative)
Patience, Saphir, Angela, and Maidens
PATIENCE Still brooding on their mad infatuation!
I thank thee, Love, thou comest not to me!
Far happier I, free from thy ministration,
Than dukes or duchesses who love can be!
SAPHIR [looking up] `Tis Patience -- happy girl! Loved by a
poet!
PATIENCE Your pardon, ladies. I intrude upon you! [Going]
ANGELA Nay, pretty child, come hither. [PATIENCE descends.] Is
it true that you have never loved?
PATIENCE Most true indeed.
SOPRANOS Most marvelous!
ALTOS And most deplorable!
I cannot tell what this love may be
(Solo)
Patience
PATIENCE I cannot tell what this love may be
[L.C.] That cometh to all but not to me.
It cannot be kind as they'd imply,
Or why do these ladies sigh?
It cannot be joy and rapture deep,
Or why do these gentle ladies weep?
It cannot be blissful as `tis said,
Or why are their eyes so wondrous red?
Though ev'rywhere true love I see
A-coming to all, but not to me,
I cannot tell what this love may be!
For I am blithe and I am gay,
While they sit sighing night and day.
PATIENCE ALL
For I am blithe and I am gay, Yes, she is blithe and she is
gay,
Think of the gulf `twixt Yes, she is blithe and
them and me, she is gay,
Think of the gulf `twixt them, Yes, she is blithe and
and me, and she is gay,
Fal la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
la la la la la la la la la la la la,
and miserie! Ah, miserie!
[She dances across R. and back to R.C.]
PATIENCE If love is a thorn, they show no wit
Who foolishly hug and foster it.
If love is a weed, how simple they
Who gather it, day by day!
If love is a nettle that makes you smart,
Then why do you wear it next your heart?
And if it be none of these, say I,
Ah, why do you sit and sob and sigh?
Though ev'rywhere true love I see
A-coming to all, but not to me,
I cannot tell what this love may be!
For I am blithe and I am gay,
While they sit sighing night and day.
PATIENCE ALL
For I am blithe and I Yes, she is blithe and she is
am gay, gay,
Think of the gulf `twixt Yes, she is blithe and she is
them and me, gay,
Think of the gulf `twixt Yes, she is blithe and she is
them and me, gay,
Fal la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
la la la la la la la la la la la la,
and miserie! Ah, miserie!
ANGELA Ah, Patience, if you have never loved, you have never
known true happiness! [All sigh.]
PATIENCE [C.] But the truly happy always seem to have so much on
their minds. The truly happy never seem quite well.
JANE [coming L.C.] There is a transcendentality of delirium --
an acute accentuation of supremest ecstasy -- which the earthy
might easily mistake for indigestion. But it is not indigestion
-- it is aesthetic transfiguration! [to the others.] Enough of
babble. Come!
PATIENCE [stopping her as she turns to go up C.] But stay, I
have some news for you. The 35th Dragoon Guards have halted in
the village, and are even now on their way to this very spot.
ANGELA The 35th Dragoon Guards!
SAPHIR They are fleshly men, of full habit!
ELLA We care nothing for Dragoon Guards!
PATIENCE But, bless me, you were all engaged to them a year ago!
SAPHIR A year ago!
ANGELA My poor child, you don't understand these things. A year
ago they were very well in our eyes, but since then our tastes
have been etherealized, our perceptions exalted. [to the others]
Come, it is time to lift up our voices in morning carol to our
Reginald. Let us to his door!
[ANGELA leading, the Ladies go off, two and two, Jane last, over
the drawbridge into the castle, singing refrain of "Twenty
love-sick maidens", and, as before, accompanying themselves
on harps, etc.]
No. 2a. Twenty love-sick maidens we
(Chorus)
Maidens
MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
Ah, miserie!
[PATIENCE watches them in surprise, and, with a gesture of
complete bafflement, climbs the rock and goes off the way
she entered.]
[The officers of the DRAGOON GUARDS enter, R., led by the MAJOR.
They form their line across the front of the stage.]
No. 3. The soldiers of our Queen
(Chorus and Solo)
Dragoons and Colonel
DRAGOONS The soldiers of our Queen
Are linked in friendly tether;
Upon the battle scene
They fight the foe together.
There ev'ry mother's son
Prepared to fight and fall is;
The enemy of one
The enemy of all is!
The enemy of one
The enemy of all is!
[On an order from the MAJOR they fall back.]
[Enter the COLONEL. All salute.]
COLONEL If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
[C.] Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
DRAGOONS [saluting] Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL Take all the remarkable people in history,
Rattle them off to a popular tune.
DRAGOONS Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL The pluck of Lord Nelson on board of the Victory--
Genius of Bismarck devising a plan--
The humour of Fielding (which sounds contradictory)--
Coolness of Paget about to trepan--
The science of Jullien, the eminent musico--
Wit of Macaulay, who wrote of Queen Anne--
The pathos of Paddy, as rendered by Boucicault--
Style of the Bishop of Sodor and Man--
The dash of a D'Orsay, divested of quackery--
Narrative powers of Dickens and Thackeray--
Victor Emmanuel -- peak-haunting Peveril--
Thomas Aquinas, and Doctor Sacheverell--
Tupper and Tennyson -- Daniel Defoe--
Anthony Trollope and Mister Guizot! Ah!
DRAGOONS Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL DRAGOONS
Take of these elements all A Heavy Dragoon,
that is fusible a Heavy Dragoon,
Melt them all down in a A Heavy Dragoon,
pipkin or crucible-- a Heavy Dragoon,
Set them to simmer, A Heavy Dragoon,
and take off the scum, a Heavy Dragoon,
And a Heavy Dragoon Is the residuum!
is the residuum!
COLONEL If you want a receipt for this soldier-like paragon,
Get at the wealth of the Czar (if you can)--
The family pride of a Spaniard from Aragon--
Force of Mephisto pronouncing a ban--
A smack of Lord Waterford, reckless and rollicky--
Swagger of Roderick, heading his clan--
The keen penetration of Paddington Pollaky--
Grace of an Odalisque on a divan--
The genius strategic of Caesar or Hannibal--
Skill of Sir Garnet in thrashing a cannibal--
Flavour of Hamlet -- the Stranger, a touch of him--
Little of Manfred (but not very much of him)--
Beadle of Burlington -- Richardson's show--
Mister Micawber and Madame Tussaud! Ah!
DRAGOONS Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL DRAGOONS
Take of these elements all A Heavy Dragoon,
that is fusible a Heavy Dragoon,
Melt them all down in a A Heavy Dragoon,
pipkin or crucible-- a Heavy Dragoon,
Set them to simmer, A Heavy Dragoon,
and take off the scum, a Heavy Dragoon,
And a Heavy Dragoon Is the residuum!
is the residuum!
COLONEL Well, here we are once more on the scene of our former
triumphs. But where's the Duke?
[Enter DUKE, listlessly, and in low spirits.]
DUKE Here I am! [Sighs.]
COLONEL Come, cheer up, don't give way!
DUKE Oh, for that, I'm as cheerful as a poor devil can be
expected to be who has the misfortune to be a Duke, with a
thousand a day!
MAJOR Humph! Most men would envy you!
DUKE Envy me? Tell me, Major, are you fond of toffee?
MAJOR Very!
COLONEL We are all fond of toffee.
ALL We are!
DUKE Yes, and toffee in moderation is a capital thing. But to
live on toffee -- toffee for breakfast, toffee for dinner, toffee
for tea -- to have it supposed that you care for nothing but
toffee, and that you would consider yourself insulted if anything
but toffee were offered to you -- how would you like that?
COLONEL I can quite believe that, under those circumstances,
even toffee would become monotonous.
DUKE For "toffee" read flattery, adulation, and abject
deference, carried to such a pitch that I began, at last, to
think that man was born bent at an angle of forty-five degrees!
Great heavens, what is there to adulate in me? Am I particularly
intelligent, or remarkably studious, or excruciatingly witty, or
unusually accomplished, or exceptionally virtuous?
COLONEL You're about as commonplace a young man as ever I saw.
ALL You are!
DUKE Exactly! That's it exactly! That describes me to a T!
Thank you all very much! [Shakes hands with the Colonel] Well,
I couldn't stand it any longer, so I joined this second-class
cavalry regiment. In the army, thought I, I shall be
occasionally snubbed, perhaps even bullied, who knows? The
thought was rapture, and here I am.
COLONEL [looking off] Yes, and here are the ladies!
DUKE But who is the gentleman with the long hair?
COLONEL I don't know.
DUKE He seems popular!
COLONEL He does seem popular!
[The DRAGOONS back up R., watching the entrance of the Ladies.
BUNTHORNE enters, L.U.E., followed by the Ladies, two and
two, playing on harps as before. He is composing a poem,
and is quite absorbed. He sees no one, but walks across the
stage, followed by the Ladies, who take no notice of the
DRAGOONS -- to the surprise and indignation of those
officers.]
[Bunthorne, the Ladies following, comes slowly down L. and then
crosses the stage to R.]
No. 4. In a doleful train
(Chorus and Solos)
Maidens, Ella, Angela, Saphir, Dragoons, and Bunthorne
MAIDENS In a doleful train
Two and two we walk all day--
For we love in vain!
None so sorrowful as they
Who can only sigh and say,
Woe is me, alackaday!
Woe is me, alackaday!
DRAGOONS Now is not this ridiculous, and is not this
preposterous?
A thorough-paced absurdity -- explain it if you
can.
Instead of rushing eagerly to cherish us and foster us,
They all prefer this melancholy literary man.
Instead of slyly peering at us,
Casting looks endearing at us,
Blushing at us, flushing at us, flirting with a fan;
They're actually sneering at us, fleering at us,
jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for a military man!
They're actually sneering at us, fleering at us,
jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for a military man!
[Bunthorne, C.]
ANGELA [R. of BUNTHORNE] Mystic poet, hear our prayer,
Twenty love-sick maidens we--
Young and wealthy, dark and fair,
All of county family.
And we die for love of thee--
Twenty love-sick maidens we!
MAIDENS Yes, we die for love of thee--
Twenty love-sick maidens we!
BUNTHORNE [crossing to L.] Though my book I seem to scan
In a rapt ecstatic way,
Like a literary man
Who despises female clay,
I hear plainly all they say,
Twenty love-sick maidens they!
[BUNTHORNE crosses to C.]
DRAGOONS [to each other] He hears plainly all they say,
Twenty love-sick maidens they!
SAPHIR [L. of BUNTHORNE] Though so excellently wise,
For a moment mortal be,
Deign to raise thy purple eyes
From thy heart-drawn poesy.
Twenty lovesick maidens see--
Each is kneeling on her knee!
[All kneel.]
MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens see--
Each is kneeling on her knee!
BUNTHORNE [going R.] Though, as I remarked before,
Any one convinced would be
That some transcendental lore
Is monopolizing me,
Round the corner I can see
Each is kneeling on her knee!
DRAGOONS Round the corner he can see
Each is kneeling on her knee!
Now is not this ridiculous, and is not this preposterous?
A thorough-paced absurdity -- ridiculous!
preposterous!
Explain it if you can.
MAIDENS DRAGOONS
In a doleful train Now is not this ridiculous,
Two and two we walk all day, and is not this preposterous?
A thorough-paced absurdity--
None so sorrowful as they explain it if you can.
For we love in vain! Instead of rushing eagerly
None so sorrowful as they to cherish us and foster us,
They all prefer this
melancholy literary man.
Who can only sigh and say, Instead of slyly peering at us,
Casting looks endearing at us,
Blushing at us, flushing at us,
Flirting with a fan;
Woe is me, alackaday! They're actually sneering at us,
fleering at us, jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for
a military man!
Woe is me, alackaday! They're actually sneering at us,
fleering at us, jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for
a military man!
Twenty love-sick maidens we, Now is not this ridiculous,
and is not this preposterous?
They all prefer this melancholy
literary man.
And we die for love of thee! Now is not this ridiculous,
and is not this preposterous?
They all prefer this melancholy,
Yes, we die for love of thee! melancholy literary man.
Now is not this ridiculous,
and is not this preposterous?
COLONEL [R.C.] Angela! what is the meaning of this?
ANGELA [C.] Oh, sir, leave us; our minds are but ill-tuned to
light love-talk.
MAJOR [L.C.] But what in the world has come over you all?
JANE [L.C.] Bunthorne! He has come over us. He has come among
us, and he has idealized us.
DUKE Has he succeeded in idealizing you?
JANE He has!
DUKE Good old Bunthorne!
JANE My eyes are open; I droop despairingly; I am soulfully
intense; I am limp and I cling!
[During this BUNTHORNE is seen in all the agonies of composition.
The Ladies are watching him intently as he writhes. At last
he hits on the word he wants and writes it down. A general
sense of relief.]
BUN. Finished! At last! Finished!
[He staggers, overcome with the mental strain, into the arms of
the COLONEL.]
COLONEL Are you better now?
BUN. Yes -- oh, it's you! -- I am better now. The poem is
finished, and my soul has gone out into it. That was all. It
was nothing worth mentioning, it occurs three times a day.
[Sees PATIENCE, who has entered during this scene.]
Ah, Patience! Dear Patience!
[Holds her hand; she seems frightened.]
ANGELA Will it please you read it to us, sir?
SAPHIR This we supplicate. [All kneel.]
BUN. Shall I?
DRAGOONS No!
BUN. [annoyed -- to PATIENCE] I will read it if you bid me!
PATIENCE [much frightened] You can if you like!
BUN. It is a wild, weird, fleshy thing; yet very tender, very
yearning, very precious. It is called, "Oh, Hollow! Hollow!
Hollow!"
PATIENCE Is it a hunting song?
BUN. A hunting song? No, it is not a hunting song. It is the
wail of the poet's heart on discovering that everything is
commonplace. To understand it, cling passionately to one another
and think of faint lilies.
[They do so as he recites]
"OH, HOLLOW! HOLLOW! HOLLOW!"
What time the poet hath hymned
The writhing maid, lithe-limbed,
Quivering on amaranthine asphodel,
How can he paint her woes,
Knowing, as well he knows,
That all can be set right with calomel?
When from the poet's plinth
The amorous colocynth
Yearns for the aloe, faint with rapturous thrills,
How can he hymn their throes
Knowing, as well he knows,
That they are only uncompounded pills?
Is it, and can it be,
Nature hath this decree,
Nothing poetic in the world shall dwell?
Or that in all her works
Something poetic lurks,
Even in colocynth and calomel?
I cannot tell.
[He goes off, L.U.E. All turn and watch him, not speaking until
he has gone.]
ANGELA How purely fragrant!
SAPHIR How earnestly precious!
PATIENCE Well, it seems to me to be nonsense.
SAPHIR Nonsense, yes, perhaps -- but oh, what precious nonsense!
COLONEL This is all very well, but you seem to forget that you
are engaged to us.
SAPHIR It can never be. You are not Empyrean. You are not
Della Cruscan. You are not even Early English. Oh, be Early
English ere it is too late!
[Officers look at each other in astonishment.]
JANE [looking at uniform] Red and Yellow! Primary colors! Oh,
South Kensington!
DUKE We didn't design our uniforms, but we don't see how they
could be improved!
JANE No, you wouldn't. Still, there is a cobwebby grey velvet,
with a tender bloom like cold gravy, which, made Florentine
fourteenth century, trimmed with Venetian leather and Spanish
altar lace, and surmounted with something Japanese -- it matters
not what -- would at least be Early English! Come, maidens.
[Exeunt Maidens, L.U.E., two and two, singing refrain of "Twenty
love-sick maidens we". PATIENCE goes off L. The Officers
watch the Ladies go off in astonishment.]
No. 4a. Twenty love-sick maidens we
(Chorus)
Maidens
[As the MAIDENS depart, the DRAGOONS spread across the stage.]
MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
Ah, miserie!
DUKE Gentlemen, this is an insult to the British uniform.
COLONEL A uniform that has been as successful in the courts of
Venus as on the field of Mars!
No. 5. When I first put this uniform on
(Solo and Chorus)
Colonel and Dragoons
[The DRAGOONS form their original line.]
Song -- COLONEL
When I first put this uniform on,
I said, as I looked in the glass,
"It's one to a million
That any civilian
My figure and form will surpass.
Gold lace has a charm for the fair,
And I've plenty of that, and to spare,
While a lover's professions,
When uttered in Hessians,
Are eloquent ev'rywhere!"
A fact that I counted upon,
When I first put this uniform on!
Chorus of DRAGOONS
By a simple coincidence, few
Could ever have counted upon,
The same thing occurred to me,
When I first put this uniform on!
COL. I said, when I first put it on,
"It is plain to the veriest dunce,
That every beauty
Will feel it her duty
To yield to its glamour at once.
They will see that I'm freely gold-laced
In a uniform handsome and chaste"--
But the peripatetics
Of long-haired aesthetics
Are very much more to their taste--
Which I never counted upon,
When I first put this uniform on!
CHORUS By a simple coincidence, few
Could ever have reckoned upon,
I didn't anticipate that,
When I first put this uniform on!
[The DRAGOONS go off angrily, R.]
[Enter BUNTHORNE, L.U.E., who changes his manner and becomes
intensely melodramatic.]
No. 6. Am I alone and unobserved?
(Recitative and Solo)
Bunthorne
BUN. [Up-stage, he looks off L. and R.]
Am I alone,
And unobserved? I am!
[comes down]
Then let me own
I'm an aesthetic sham!
[and walks tragically to down-stage, C.]
This air severe
Is but a mere
Veneer!
This cynic smile
Is but a wile
Of guile!
This costume chaste
Is but good taste
Misplaced!
Let me confess!
A languid love for Lilies does not blight me!
Lank limbs and haggard cheeks do not delight me!
I do not care for dirty greens
By any means.
I do not long for all one sees
That's Japanese.
I am not fond of uttering platitudes
In stained-glass attitudes.
In short, my mediaevalism's affectation,
Born of a morbid love of admiration!
[Tiptoes up-stage, looking L. and R., and comes back down, C.]
If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line as a
man of culture rare,
You must get up all the germs of the transcendental terms, and
plant them ev'rywhere.
You must lie upon the daisies and discourse in novel phrases of
your complicated state of mind,
The meaning doesn't matter if it's only idle chatter of a
transcendental kind.
And ev'ry one will say,
As you walk your mystic way,
"If this young man expresses himself in terms too deep for me,
Why, what a very singularly deep young man this deep young man
must be!"
Be eloquent in praise of the very dull old days which have long
since passed away,
And convince 'em, if you can, that the reign of good Queen Anne
was Culture's palmiest day.
Of course you will pooh-pooh whatever's fresh and new, and
declare it's crude and mean,
For Art stopped short in the cultivated court of the Empress
Josephine.
And ev'ryone will say,
As you walk your mystic way,
"If that's not good enough for him which is good enough for me,
Why, what a very cultivated kind of youth this kind of youth must
be!"
Then a sentimental passion of a vegetable fashion must excite
your languid spleen,
An attachment a la Plato for a bashful young potato, or a nottoo-
French French bean!
Though the Philistines may jostle, you will rank as an apostle in
the high aesthetic band,
If you walk down Piccadilly with a poppy or a lily in your
medieval hand.
And ev'ryone will say,
As you walk your flow'ry way,
"If he's content with a vegetable love which would certainly not
suit me,
Why, what a most particularly pure young man this pure young man
must be!"
[At the end of his song, PATIENCE enters, L. He sees her.]
BUN. Ah! Patience, come hither. [She comes to him timidly.] I
am pleased with thee. The bitter-hearted one, who finds all else
hollow, is pleased with thee. For you are not hollow. Are you?
PATIENCE No, thanks, I have dined; but -- I beg your pardon -- I
interrupt you. [Turns to go; he stops her.]
BUN. Life is made up of interruptions. The tortured soul,
yearning for solitude, writhes under them. Oh, but my heart is
a-weary! Oh, I am a cursed thing! [She attempts to escape.]
Don't go.
PATIENCE Really, I'm very sorry.
BUN. Tell me, girl, do you ever yearn?
PATIENCE I earn my living.
BUN. [impatiently] No, no! Do you know what it is to be hearthungry?
Do you know what it is to yearn for the Indefinable, and
yet to be brought face to face, dally, with the Multiplication
Table? Do you know what it is to seek oceans and to find
puddles? That's my case. Oh, I am a cursed thing! [She turns
again.] Don't go.
PATIENCE If you please, I don't understand you -- you frighten me!
BUN. Don't be frightened -- it's only poetry.
PATIENCE Well, if that's poetry, I don't like poetry.
BUN. [eagerly] Don't you? [aside] Can I trust her? [aloud]
Patience, you don't like poetry -- well, between you and me, I
don't like poetry. It's hollow, unsubstantial -- unsatisfactory.
What's the use of yearning for Elysian Fields when you know you
can't get `em, and would only let `em out on building leases if
you had `em?
PATIENCE Sir, I--
BUN. Patience, I have long loved you. Let me tell you a secret.
I am not as bilious as I look. If you like, I will cut my hair.
There is more innocent fun within me than a casual spectator
would imagine. You have never seen me frolicsome. Be a good
girl -- a very good girl -- and one day you shall. If you are
fond of touch-and-go jocularity -- this is the shop for it.
PATIENCE Sir, I will speak plainly. In the matter of love I am
untaught. I have never loved but my great-aunt. But I am quite
certain that, under any circumstances, I couldn't possibly love you.
BUN. Oh, you think not?
PATIENCE I'm quite sure of it. Quite sure. Quite.
BUN. Very good. Life is henceforth a blank. I don't care what
becomes of me. I have only to ask that you will not abuse my
confidence; though you despise me, I am extremely popular with
the other young ladies.
PATIENCE I only ask that you will leave me and never renew the
subject.
BUN. Certainly. Broken-hearted and desolate, I go. [Goes upstage,
suddenly turns and recites.]
"Oh, to be wafted away,
From this black Aceldama of sorrow,
Where the dust of an earthy to-day
Is the earth of a dusty to-morrow!"
It is a little thing of my own. I call it "Heart Foam". I
shall not publish it. Farewell! Patience, Patience, farewell!
[Exit BUNTHORNE.]
PATIENCE What on earth does it all mean? Why does he love me?
Why does he expect me to love him? [going R.] He's not a
relation! It frightens me!
[Enter ANGELA, L.]
ANGELA Why, Patience, what is the matter?
PATIENCE Lady Angela, tell me two things. Firstly, what on
earth is this love that upsets everybody; and, secondly, how is
it to be distinguished from insanity?
ANGELA Poor blind child! Oh, forgive her, Eros! Why, love is
of all passions the most essential! It is the embodiment of
purity, the abstraction of refinement! It is the one unselfish
emotion in this whirlpool of grasping greed!
PATIENCE Oh, dear, oh! [beginning to cry]
ANGELA Why are you crying?
PATIENCE To think that I have lived all these years without
having experienced this ennobling and unselfish passion! Why,
what a wicked girl I must be! For it is unselfish, isn't it?
ANGELA Absolutely! Love that is tainted with selfishness is no
love. Oh, try, try, try to love! It really isn't difficult if
you give your whole mind to it.
PATIENCE I'll set about it at once. I won't go to bed until I'm
head over ears in love with somebody.
ANGELA Noble girl! But is it possible that you have never loved
anybody?
PATIENCE Yes, one.
ANGELA Ah! Whom?
PATIENCE My great-aunt--
ANGELA Great-aunts don't count.
PATIENCE Then there's nobody. At least -- no, nobody. Not
since I was a baby. But that doesn't count, I suppose.
ANGELA I don't know. Tell me about it.
No. 7. Long years ago, fourteen maybe
(Duet)
Patience and Angela
PATIENCE [R.] Long years ago -- fourteen, maybe,
When but a tiny babe of four,
Another baby played with me,
My elder by a year or more;
A little child of beauty rare,
With marv'lous eyes and wondrous hair,
Who, in my child-eyes, seemed to me
All that a little child should be!
[She goes to ANGELA, L.C.]
Ah, how we loved, that child and I!
How pure our baby joy!
How true our love -- and, by the bye,
He was a little boy!
ANGELA Ah, old, old tale of Cupid's touch!
I thought as much -- I thought as much!
He was a little boy!
PATIENCE Pray don't misconstrue what I say--
Remember, pray -- remember, pray,
He was a little boy!
ANGELA No doubt! Yet, spite of all your pains,
The interesting fact remains -
He was a little boy!
BOTH Ah, yes, in/No doubt, yet spite of all my/your pains,
The interesting fact remains--
He was a little boy!
He was a little boy!
[Exit ANGELA, L.]
PATIENCE [R.C.] It's perfectly dreadful to think of the
appalling state I must be in! I had no idea that love was a
duty. No wonder they all look so unhappy! Upon my word, I
hardly like to associate with myself. I don't think I'm
respectable. I'll go at once and fall in love with... [As she
turns to go up R., GROSVENOR enters, R.U.E. She sees him and
turns back.] a stranger!
No. 8. Prithee, pretty maiden
(Duet)
Patience and Grosvenor
GROSVENOR [up-stage, R. ] Prithee, pretty maiden -- prithee,
tell me true,
(Hey, but I'm doleful, willow willow waly!)
Have you e'er a lover a-dangling after you?
Hey willow waly O!
[coming down-stage]
I would fain discover
If you have a lover!
Hey willow waly O!
PATIENCE [L.] Gentle sir, my heart is frolicsome and free--
(Hey, but he's doleful, willow willow waly!)
Nobody I care for comes a-courting me--
Hey willow waly O!
Nobody I care for
Comes a-courting -- therefore,
Hey willow waly O!
GROSVENOR [C.] Prithee, pretty maiden, will you marry me?
(Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow willow waly!)
I may say, at once, I'm a man of propertee--
Hey willow waly O!
Money, I despise it;
Many people prize it,
Hey willow waly O!
PATIENCE Gentle Sir, although to marry I design--
(Hey, but he's hopeful, willow willow waly!)
As yet I do not know you, and so I must decline.
Hey willow waly O!
To other maidens go you--
As yet I do not know you,
BOTH Hey willow waly O!
GROS. Patience! Can it be that you don't recognize me?
PATIENCE [down L.] Recognize you? No, indeed I don't!
GROS. Have fifteen years so greatly changed me?
PATIENCE [turning to him] Fifteen years? What do you mean?
GROS. Have you forgotten the friend of your youth, your
Archibald? -- your little playfellow? Oh, Chronos, Chronos, this
is too bad of you! [Comes down, C.]
PATIENCE Archibald! Is it possible? Why, let me look! It is!
It is! [takes his hands.] It must be! Oh, how happy I am! I
thought we should never meet again! And how you've grown!
GROS. Yes, Patience, I am much taller and much stouter than I
was.
PATIENCE And how you've improved!
GROS. [dropping her hands and turning] Yes, Patience, I am very
beautiful! [Sighs.]
PATIENCE But surely that doesn't make you unhappy?
GROS. Yes, Patience. Gifted as I am with a beauty which
probably has not its rival on earth, I am, nevertheless, utterly
and completely miserable.
PATIENCE Oh -- but why?
GROS. My child-love for you has never faded. Conceive, then,
the horror of my situation when I tell you that it is my hideous
destiny to be madly loved at first sight by every woman I come
across!
PATIENCE But why do you make yourself so picturesque? Why not
disguise yourself, disfigure yourself, anything to escape this
persecution?
GROS. No, Patience, that may not be. These gifts -- irksome as
they are -- were given to me for the enjoyment and delectation of
my fellow-creatures. I am a trustee for Beauty, and it is my
duty to see that the conditions of my trust are faithfully
discharged.
PATIENCE And you, too, are a Poet?
GROS. Yes, I am the Apostle of Simplicity. I am called
"Archibald the All-Right" -- for I am infallible!
PATIENCE And is it possible that you condescend to love such a
girl as I?
GROS. Yes, Patience, is it not strange? I have loved you with a
Florentine fourteenth-century frenzy for full fifteen years!
PATIENCE Oh, marvelous! I have hitherto been deaf to the voice
of love. I seem now to know what love is! It has been revealed
to me -- it is Archibald Grosvenor!
GROS. Yes, Patience, it is! [She goes into his arms.]
PATIENCE [as in a trance] We will never, never part!
GROS. We will live and die together!
PATIENCE I swear it!
GROS. We both swear it!
PATIENCE [recoiling from him] But -- oh, horror!
GROS. What's the matter?
PATIENCE Why, you are perfection! A source of endless ecstasy
to all who know you!
GROS. I know I am. Well?
PATIENCE Then, bless my heart, there can be nothing unselfish in
loving you!
GROS. Merciful powers! I never thought of that!
PATIENCE To monopolize those features on which all women love to
linger! It would be unpardonable!
GROS. Why, so it would! Oh, fatal perfection, again you
interpose between me and my happiness!
PATIENCE Oh, if you were but a thought less beautiful than you
are!
GROS. Would that I were; but candour compels me to admit that
I'm not!
PATIENCE Our duty is clear; we must part, and for ever!
GROS. Oh, misery! And yet I cannot question the propriety of
your decision. Farewell, Patience!
PATIENCE Farewell, Archibald! [they both turn to go.]
[suddenly] But stay!
GROS. Yes, Patience?
PATIENCE Although I may not love you -- for you are perfection -
- there is nothing to prevent your loving me. I am plain,
homely, unattractive!
GROS. Why, that's true!
PATIENCE The love of such a man as you for such a girl as I must
be unselfish!
GROS. Unselfishness itself!
No. 8a. Though to marry you would very selfish be
(Duet)
Patience and Grosvenor
PATIENCE Though to marry you would very selfish be--
GROSVENOR Hey, but I'm doleful -- willow willow waly!
PATIENCE You may, all the same, continue loving me --
GROSVENOR Hey willow waly O!
BOTH All the world ignoring,
You'll/I'll go on adoring--
Hey, willow waly O!
[They go off sadly -- PATIENCE, L., GROSVENOR, R.U.E.]
No. 9. Let the merry cymbals sound
(Finale of Act I)
Ensemble
[Enter BUNTHORNE, crowned with roses and hung about with
garlands, and looking very miserable. He is led by ANGELA
and SAPHIR (each of whom holds an end of the rose-garland by
which he is bound), and accompanied by procession of
Maidens. They are dancing classically, and playing on
cymbals, double pipes, and other archaic instruments. JANE
last, with a very large pair of cymbals.]
[The procession enters over the drawbridge, BUNTHORNE being
preceded by the Chorus. They go R. and round the stage,
ending with BUNTHORNE down L.C., with ANGELA on his R.,
SAPHIR on his L., JANE up C.]
MAIDENS Let the merry cymbals sound,
Gaily pipe Pandaean pleasure,
With a Daphnephoric bound
Tread a gay but classic measure,
Tread a gay but classic measure.
Ev'ry heart with hope is beating,
For, at this exciting meeting
Fickle Fortune will decide
Who shall be our Bunthorne's bride!
Ev'ry heart with hope is beating,
For, at this exciting meeting
Fickle Fortune will decide
Who shall be our Bunthorne's bride!
Let the merry cymbals sound,
Gaily pipe Pandaean pleasure,
With a Daphnephoric bound
Tread a gay but classic, classic measure,
Tread a gay but classic, classic measure,
A classic measure.
[DRAGOONS enter down R., forming a line diagonally up to upstage,
C.]
Chorus of Dragoons
Now tell us, we pray you,
Why thus they array you--
Oh, poet, how say you--
What is it you've [optional -- you have] done?
Now tell us, we pray you,
Why thus they array you--
Oh, poet, how say you--
What is it you've done?
Oh, poet, how say you--
What is it you've done?
DUKE [C.] Of rite sacrificial,
By sentence judicial,
This seems the initial,
Then why don't you run?
COLONEL [R.C.] They cannot have led you
To hang or behead you,
Nor may they all wed you,
Unfortunate one!
DRAGOONS Then tell us, we pray you,
Why thus they array you--
Oh, poet, how say you--
What is it you've done?
[optional -- Enter SOLICITOR.]
BUNTHORNE Heart-broken at my Patience's barbarity,
By the advice of my solicitor
In aid -- in aid of a deserving charity,
I've put myself up to be raffled for!
[He introduces his solicitor.]
MAIDENS By the advice of his solicitor,
He's put himself up to be raffled for!
DRAGOONS Oh, horror! urged by his solicitor,
He's put himself up to be raffled for!
MAIDENS Oh, heaven's blessing on his solicitor!
DRAGOONS A hideous curse on his solicitor!
MAIDENS Oh, heaven's blessing on his solicitor!
DRAGOONS A hideous curse on his solicitor!
MAIDENS DRAGOONS
A blessing on his solicitor! A curse, a curse on his
solicitor!
[The SOLICITOR, horrified at the Dragoons' curse, rushes off, L.]
COLONEL [R.C. BUNTHORNE up L., surrounded by the Ladies.]
Stay, we implore you,
Before our hopes are blighted;
You see before you
The men to whom you're plighted!
DRAGOONS Stay, we implore you,
For we adore you;
To us you're plighted
To be united--
Stay, we implore you, we implore you!
DUKE [C.] Your maiden hearts, ah, do not steel
To pity's eloquent appeal,
Such conduct British soldiers feel.
[Aside ] Sigh, sigh, all sigh! [They all sigh.]
To foeman's steel we rarely see
A British soldier bend the knee,
Yet, one and all, they kneel to ye--
[Aside ] Kneel, kneel, all kneel! [They all kneel.]
Our soldiers very seldom cry,
And yet -- I need not tell you why--
A tear-drop dews each martial eye!
[Aside ] Weep, weep, all weep! [They all weep.]
MAIDENS &
DRAGOONS Our/We soldiers very seldom cry,
And yet -- they/we need not tell us/you why--
ABOVE &
DUKE A tear-drop dews each eye/martial eye!
Weep, weep, all weep!
[The Solicitor re-enters]
BUNTHORNE [coming briskly forward, L.C.]
Come, walk up, and purchase with avidity,
Overcome your diffidence and natural timidity,
Tickets for the raffle should be purchased with avidity,
Put in half a guinea and a husband you may gain--
Such a judge of blue-and-white and other kinds of pottery--
From early Oriental down to modern terra-cottary--
Put in half a guinea -- you may draw him in a lottery--
Such an opportunity may not occur again.
MAIDENS Such a judge of blue-and-white and other kinds of
pottery--
From early Oriental down to modern terra cottary--
Put in half a guinea -- you may draw him in a lottery--
Such an opportunity may not occur again.
[MAIDENS crowd up to purchase tickets. DRAGOONS dance in single
file round stage, to express their indifference.]
DRAGOONS We've been thrown over, we're aware
But we don't care -- but we don't care!
There's fish in the sea, no doubt of it,
As good as ever came out of it,
And some day we shall get our share,
So we don't care -- so we don't care!
[During this the GIRLS have been buying tickets, the Solicitor
officiating. At last JANE presents herself. BUNTHORNE
looks at her with aversion.]
BUNTHORNE And are you going a ticket for to buy?
JANE [surprised] Most certainly I am; why shouldn't I?
BUNTHORNE [aside] Oh, Fortune, this is hard! [aloud]
Blindfold your eyes;
Two minutes will decide who wins the prize!
[GIRLS blindfold themselves.]
Chorus of MAIDENS
Oh, Fortune, to my aching heart be kind;
Like us, thou art blindfolded, but not blind!
Just raise your bandage, thus, [Each uncovers one eye.] that you
may see,
And give the prize, and give the prize to me! [They cover their
eyes again.]
BUNTHORNE Come, Lady Jane, I pray you draw the first!
JANE [joyfully] He loves me best!
BUNTHORNE [aside] I want to know the worst!
[JANE puts her hand in bag to draw ticket. PATIENCE enters and
prevents her.]
PATIENCE Hold! Stay your hand!
ALL [uncovering their eyes]
What means this interference?
Of this bold girl I pray you make a clearance!
JANE Away with you, away with you, and to your milk-pails go!
BUNTHORNE [suddenly] She wants a ticket! Take a dozen!
PATIENCE No! If there be pardon in your breast
For this poor penitent,
Who with remorseful thought opprest,
Sincerely doth repent;
If you, with one so lowly, still
Desire to be allied,
Then you may take me, if you will,
For I will be your bride!
[She kneels to Bunthorne.]
CHORUS Oh, shameless one!
Oh, bold-faced thing!
Away you run--
Go, take your wing,
Oh, shameless one!
Oh, bold-faced thing!
Away you run--
Go, take your wing,
You shameless one!
You bold-faced thing!
[Bunthorne raises her.]
BUNTHORNE How strong is love! For many and many a week,
She's loved me fondly, and has feared to speak
But Nature, for restraint too mighty far,
Has burst the bonds of Art -- and here we are!
PATIENCE No, Mister Bunthorne, no -- you're wrong again;
Permit me -- I'll endeavour to explain!
True love must single-hearted be--
BUNTHORNE Exactly so!
PATIENCE From ev'ry selfish fancy free--
BUNTHORNE Exactly so!
PATIENCE No idle thought of gain or joy
A maiden's fancy should employ--
True love must be without alloy,
True love must be without alloy.
MEN Exactly so!
PATIENCE Imposture to contempt must lead--
COLONEL Exactly so!
PATIENCE Blind vanity's dissension's seed--
MAJOR Exactly so!
PATIENCE It follows, then, a maiden who
Devotes herself to loving you
Is prompted by no selfish view,
Is prompted by no selfish view!
MEN Exactly so!
SAPHIR [coming L. of BUNTHORNE]
Are you resolved to wed this shameless one?
ANGELA [coming R. of BUNTHORNE]
Is there no chance for any other?
BUNTHORNE [decisively] None! [Embraces PATIENCE]
[Exit PATIENCE and BUNTHORNE, L. ANGELA, SAPHIR, and ELLA take
COLONEL, DUKE, and MAJOR down, while GIRLS gaze fondly at
other Officers.]
SEXTET
(ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, DUKE, MAJOR, COLONEL)
I hear the soft note of the echoing voice
Of an old, old love, long dead--
It whispers my sorrowing heart "rejoice"--
For the last sad tear is shed--
The pain that is all but a pleasure will change
For the pleasure that's all but pain,
And never, oh never, this heart will range
From that old, old love again!
[GIRLS embrace OFFICERS]
CHORUS Yes, the pain that is all but a pleasure will change
For the pleasure that's all but pain,
And never, oh never, our hearts will range
From that old, old love again!
DUKE CHORUS
Oh, never, oh never Oh, never, oh never
our hearts will range our hearts, our hearts
will range
From that old, old love again!
SEXTET CHORUS
Oh, never, oh never, Oh, never, oh never our hearts,
our hearts will range Oh, never, our hearts will range
From that old, old From that old, old love
love again! again!
[The GIRLS embrace the Officers. Re-enter PATIENCE and
BUNTHORNE. L.]
[As the DRAGOONS and GIRLS are embracing, enter GROSVENOR,
R.U.E., reading. He takes no notice of them, but comes
slowly down, still reading. The GIRLS are all strangely
fascinated by him. The Chorus divides, L. & R., and the
GIRLS are held back by the DRAGOONS, as they attempt to
throw themselves at GROSVENOR. Fury of BUNTHORNE, who
recognizes a rival.]
ANGELA [R.C.] But who is this, whose god-like grace
Proclaims he comes of noble race?
And who is this, whose manly face
Bears sorrow's interesting trace?
CHORUS Yes, who is this, whose god-like grace
Proclaims he comes of noble race?
GROSVENOR [C.] I am a broken-hearted troubadour,
Whose mind's aesthetic and whose tastes are pure!
ANGELA Aesthetic! He is aesthetic!
GROSVENOR Yes, yes -- I am aesthetic
And poetic!
MAIDENS Then, we love you!
[They break away from the DRAGOONS, and kneel to GROSVENOR.]
DRAGOONS They love him! Horror!
BUNTHORNE and
PATIENCE They love him! Horror!
GROSVENOR They love me! Horror! Horror! Horror!
ENSEMBLE
[all parts sung at the same time]
PATIENCE DUKE
List, Reginald, while I confess My jealousy I can't
express,
A love that's all unselfishness, Their love they openly
confess;
That it's unselfish, goodness knows, His shell-like ears he
does not close
You won't dispute it, I suppose! To their recital of
their woes.
ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, JANE CHORUS
Oh, list while we a love confess Oh, list while we/they a
love confess
That words imperfectly express.
Those shell-like ears, ah, do not close That words imperfectly
express.
To blighted love's distracting woes!
ENSEMBLE
[all parts sung at the same time]
MAJOR, COLONEL & BUNTHORNE GROSVENOR
My jealousy I can't express, Again my cursed comeliness
Their love they openly confess! Spreads hopeless
anguish and
distress,
Their love they openly confess, Spreads hopeless anguish
and
confess! distress, distress!
MAIDENS DRAGOONS
Yes, those shell-like ears, ah, do Yes, his shell-like ears
not close he does not close
To blighted love's distracting To their recital of their
woes!
woes!
To blighted love's distracting woes, To their recital of their
woes,
their woes! their woes!
ENSEMBLE
[all parts sung at the same time]
PATIENCE DUKE
Ah! Ah!
And I shall love you, I shall love. His shell-like ears he
does not close
Your ears, ah, do not close! To love's distracting
woes!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close Now is not this
ridiculous,
and is not this
preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes! A thorough-paced
absurdity,
explain it if you
can!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close Now is not this
ridiculous,
and is not this
preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes! A thorough-paced
absurdity,
explain it if you
can!
To love's, to love's distracting woes! Explain, explain it if you
can!
love's woes! you can!
ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, JANE MAIDENS
Oh, list while we our love confess Oh, list while we a love
confess
That words imperfectly express. That words imperfectly
express.
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close Those shell-like ears, ah,
do not
close
To love's distracting woes! To love's distracting
woes!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close Those shell-like ears, ah,
do not
close
To blighted love's distracting woes! To blighted love's
distracting
woes!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close Those shell-like ears, ah,
do not
close
To blighted love's distracting woes! To blighted love's
distracting
woes!
To love's, to love's distracting woes! To love's, to love's
distracting
love's woes woes! love's woes!
BUNTHORNE MAJOR and COLONEL
My jealousy I can't express, My jealousy I can't
express,
Their love they openly confess. Their love they
openly confess.
His shell-like ears he does not close His shell-like ears he
does not close
To love's distracting woes! To love's distracting
woes!
His shell-like ears he does not close Now is not this
ridiculous,
and is not this
preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting A thorough-paced
absurdity,
woes! explain it if you
can!
His shell-like ears he does not close Now is not this
ridiculous,
and is not this
preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting A thorough-paced
absurdity,
woes! explain it if you
can!
To love's, to love's distracting woes! Explain, explain it if you
can!
love's woes! you can!
GROSVENOR MALE CHORUS
Again my cursed comeliness Oh, list while they a love
confess
Spreads hopeless anguish and That words
imperfectly express.
distress;
Thine ears, oh, Fortune, do not close His shell-like ears He
does not close
To love's distracting woes! To love's distracting
woes!
My shell-like ears I can not close Now is not this
ridiculous,
and is not this
preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting A thorough-paced
absurdity,
woes! explain it if you
can!
My shell-like ears I can not close Now is not this
ridiculous,
and is not this
preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting A thorough-paced
absurdity,
woes! explain it if you
can!
To love's, to love's distracting woes! Explain, explain it if you
can!
love's woes! you can!
[GROSVENOR makes a wild effort to escape up-stage; the GIRLS drag
him back and kneel as the curtain falls.]
END OF ACT I
ACT II
[SCENE -- A wooded glade, with a view of open country in the
background. The chorus of MAIDENS is heard singing in the
distance. JANE is discovered leaning on a violoncello,
which she has propped up on a tree-stump, L., and upon which
she will presently accompany herself. As the Chorus ends,
she speaks.]
No. 10. On such eyes as maidens cherish
(Opening Chorus)
Maidens
On such eyes as maidens cherish
Lest thy fond adorers gaze,
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
JANE The fickle crew have deserted Reginald and sworn allegiance
to his rival, and all, forsooth, because he has glanced with
passing favour on a puling milkmaid! Fools! Of that fancy he
will soon weary -- and then, I, who alone am faithful to him,
shall reap my reward. But do not dally too long, Reginald, for
my charms are ripe, Reginald, and already they are decaying.
Better secure me ere I have gone too far!
No. 11. Sad is that woman's lot
(Recitative and Solo)
Jane
JANE Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year,
Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear,
When Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs,
Impatiently begins to dim her eyes!
Compelled, at last, in life's uncertain gloamings,
To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved
"combings,"
Reduced, with rouge, lip-shade, and pearly grey,
To "make up" for lost time as best she may!
Silvered is the raven hair,
Spreading is the parting straight,
Mottled the complexion fair,
Halting is the youthful gait,
Hollow is the laughter free,
Spectacled the limpid eye,
Little will be left of me
In the coming bye and bye!
Little will be left of me
In the coming bye and bye!
Fading is the taper waist,
Shapeless grows the shapely limb,
And although severely laced,
Spreading is the figure trim!
Stouter than I used to be,
Still more corpulent grow I--
There will be too much of me
In the coming by and bye!
There will be too much of me
In the coming by and bye!
[Exit, L., carrying her violoncello.]
[Enter GROSVENOR, R., followed by MAIDENS, two and two, playing
on archaic instruments as in Act I. He is reading
abstractedly, as BUNTHORNE did in Act I, and pays no
attention to them.]
No. 12. Turn, oh, turn in this direction
(Chorus)
Maidens
Turn, oh, turn in this direction,
Shed, oh, shed a gentle smile,
With a glance of sad perfection,
Our poor fainting hearts beguile!
On such eyes as maidens cherish
Let thy fond adorers gaze,
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
[GROSVENOR sits, R.; they group themselves around him in a
formation similar to that which opens Act I.]
GROS. [aside, not looking up] The old, old tale. How
rapturously these maidens love me, and how hopelessly! [He looks
up.] Oh, Patience, Patience, with the love of thee in my heart,
what have I for these poor mad maidens but an unvalued pity?
Alas, they will die of hopeless love for me, as I shall die of
hopeless love for thee!
ANGELA Sir, will it please you read to us?
GROS. [sighing] Yes, child, if you will. What shall I read?
ANGELA One of your own poems.
GROS. One of my own poems? Better not, my child. They will not
cure thee of thy love. [All sigh.]
ELLA Mr. Bunthorne used to read us a poem of his own every day.
SAPHIR And, to do him justice, he read them extremely well.
GROS. Oh, did he so? Well, who am I that I should take upon
myself to withhold my gifts from you? What am I but a trustee?
Here is a decalet -- a pure and simple thing, a very daisy -- a
babe might understand it. To appreciate it, it is not necessary
to think of anything at all.
ANGELA Let us think of nothing at all!
GROS. [reciting]
Gentle Jane was as good as gold,
She always did as she was told;
She never spoke when her mouth was full,
Or caught bluebottles their legs to pull,
Or spilt plum jam on her nice new frock,
Or put white mice in the eight-day clock,
Or vivisected her last new doll,
Or fostered a passion for alcohol.
And when she grew up she was given in marriage
To a first-class earl who keeps his carriage!
GROS. I believe I am right in saying that there is not one word
in that decalet which is calculated to bring the blush of shame
to the cheek of modesty.
ANGELA Not one; it is purity itself.
GROS. Here's another.
Teasing Tom was a very bad boy,
A great big squirt was his favourite toy
He put live shrimps in his father's boots,
And sewed up the sleeves of his Sunday suits;
He punched his poor little sisters' heads,
And cayenne-peppered their four-post beds;
He plastered their hair with cobbler's wax,
And dropped hot halfpennies down their backs.
The consequence was he was lost totally,
And married a girl in the corps de bally!
[The MAIDENS express intense horror.]
ANGELA Marked you how grandly -- how relentlessly -- the damning
catalogue of crime strode on, till Retribution, like a poised
hawk, came swooping down upon the Wrong-Doer? Oh, it was
terrible! [All shudder.]
ELLA Oh, sir, you are indeed a true poet, for you touch our
hearts, and they go out to you!
GROS. [aside] This is simply cloying. [aloud] Ladies, I am
sorry to appear ungallant, but this is Saturday, and you have
been following me about ever since Monday. I should like the
usual half-holiday. I shall take it as a personal favour if you
will kindly allow me to close early to-day.
SAPHIR Oh, sir, do not send us from you!
GROS. Poor, poor girls! It is best to speak plainly. I know
that I am loved by you, but I never can love you in return, for
my heart is fixed elsewhere! Remember the fable of the Magnet
and the Churn.
ANGELA [wildly] But we don't know the fable of the Magnet and
the Churn!
GROS. Don't you? Then I will sing it to you.
No. 13. A magnet hung in a hardware shop
(Solo and Chorus)
Grosvenor and Maidens
GROSVENOR A magnet hung in a hardware shop,
And all around was a loving crop
Of scissors and needles, nails and knives,
Offering love for all their lives;
But for iron the magnet felt no whim,
Though he charmed iron, it charmed not him;
From needles and nails and knives he'd turn,
For he'd set his love on a Silver Churn!
MAIDENS A Silver Churn!
GROSVENOR A Silver Churn!
His most aesthetic,
Very magnetic
Fancy took this turn--
"If I can wheedle
A knife or a needle,
Why not a Silver Churn?"
MAIDENS His most aesthetic,
Very magnetic
Fancy took this turn--
"If I can wheedle
A knife or a needle,
Why not a Silver Churn?"
GROSVENOR [He rises, going C.]
And Iron and Steel expressed surprise,
The needles opened their well-drilled eyes,
The penknives felt "shut up", no doubt,
The scissors declared themselves "cut out",
The kettles they boiled with rage, 'tis said,
While ev'ry nail went off its head,
And hither and thither began to roam,
Till a hammer came up and drove them home.
MAIDENS It drove them home?
GROSVENOR It drove them home!
While this magnetic,
Peripatetic
Lover he lived to learn,
By no endeavour
Can magnet ever
Attract a Silver Churn!
MAIDENS While this magnetic,
Peripatetic
Lover he lived to learn,
MAIDENS and
GROSVENOR By no endeavour
Can magnet ever
Attract a Silver Churn!
[They go off in low spirits, R.U.E., gazing back at him from time
to time.]
GROS. At last they are gone! What is this mysterious
fascination that I seem to exercise over all I come across? A
curse on my fatal beauty, for I am sick of conquests! [Goes R.]
[Enter PATIENCE, L. Stops L.C. on seeing GROSVENOR.]
GROS. [Turns and sees her.] Patience!
PATIENCE I have escaped with difficulty from my Reginald. I
wanted to see you so much that I might ask you if you still love
me as fondly as ever?
GROS. Love you? If the devotion of a lifetime-- [seizing her
hand.]
PATIENCE [indignantly] Hold! Unhand me, or I scream! [He
releases her.] If you are a gentleman, pray remember that I am
another's! [very tenderly.] But you do love me, don't you?
GROS. Madly, hopelessly, despairingly!
PATIENCE That's right! I never can be yours; but that's right!
GROS. And you love this Bunthorne?
PATIENCE With a heart-whole ecstasy that withers, and scorches,
and burns, and stings! [sadly] It is my duty.
GROS. Admirable girl! But you are not happy with him?
PATIENCE Happy? I am miserable beyond description!
GROS. That's right! I never can be yours; but that's right!
PATIENCE But go now. I see dear Reginald approaching.
Farewell, dear Archibald; I cannot tell you how happy it has made
me to know that you still love me.
GROS. Ah, if I only dared-- [advancing towards her]
PATIENCE Sir! this language to one who is promised to another!
[tenderly] Oh, Archibald, think of me sometimes, for my heart is
breaking! He is unkind to me, and you would be so loving!
GROS. Loving! [advancing towards her]
PATIENCE Advance one step, and as I am a good and pure woman, I
scream! [tenderly] Farewell, Archibald! [sternly] Stop there!
[tenderly] Think of me sometimes! [angrily] Advance at your
peril! Once more, adieu!
[GROSVENOR sighs, gazes sorrowfully at her, sighs deeply, and
exits, R. She bursts into tears.]
[Enter BUNTHORNE, followed by JANE. He is moody and
preoccupied.]
In a doleful train
(Solo)
Jane
JANE In a doleful train
One and one I walk all day;
For I love in vain--
None so sorrowful as they
Who can only sigh and say,
Woe is me, alackaday!
BUN. [seeing PATIENCE] Crying, eh? What are you crying about?
PATIENCE I've only been thinking how dearly I love you!
BUN. Love me! Bah!
JANE Love him! Bah!
BUN. [to JANE] Don't you interfere.
JANE He always crushes me!
PATIENCE [going to him] What is the matter, dear Reginald? If
you have any sorrow, tell it to me, that I may share it with you.
[sighing] It is my duty!
BUN. [snappishly] Whom were you talking with just now?
PATIENCE With dear Archibald.
BUN. [furiously] With dear Archibald! Upon my honour, this is
too much!
JANE A great deal too much!
BUN. [angrily to JANE] Do be quiet!
JANE Crushed again!
PATIENCE I think he is the noblest, purest, and most perfect
being I have ever met. But I don't love him. It is true that he
is devotedly attached to me, but I don't love him. Whenever he
grows affectionate, I scream. It is my duty! [sighing]
BUN. I dare say!
JANE So do I! I dare say!
PATIENCE Why, how could I love him and love you too? You can't
love two people at once!
BUN. Oh, can't you, though!
PATIENCE No, you can't; I only wish you could.
BUN. I don't believe you know what love is!
PATIENCE [sighing] Yes, I do. There was a happy time when I
didn't, but a bitter experience has taught me.
[BUNTHORNE, noticing that JANE is not looking at him, goes off
quickly up R. She turns, sees him, and runs after him.]
No. 14. Love is a plaintive song
(Solo)
Patience
PATIENCE Love is a plaintive song,
Sung by a suff'ring maid,
Telling a tale of wrong,
Telling of hope betrayed;
Tuned to each changing note,
Sorry when he is sad,
Blind to his ev'ry mote,
Merry when he is glad!
Merry when he is glad!
Love that no wrong can cure,
Love that is always new,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love that's true!
Love that no wrong can cure,
Love that is always new,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love, the love that's true!
Rendering good for ill,
Smiling at ev'ry frown,
Yielding your own self-will,
Laughing your teardrops down;
Never a selfish whim,
Trouble, or pain to stir;
Everything for him,
Nothing at all for her!
Nothing at all for her!
Love that will aye endure,
Though the rewards be few,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love that's true!
Love that will aye endure,
Though the rewards be few,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love, the love that's true!
[At the end of ballad exit PATIENCE, L., weeping. Enter
BUNTHORNE, R., JANE following.]
BUN. Everything has gone wrong with me since that smug-faced
idiot came here. Before that I was admired -- I may say, loved.
JANE Too mild -- adored!
BUN. Do let a poet soliloquize! The damozels used to follow me
wherever I went; now they all follow him!
JANE Not all! I am still faithful to you.
BUN. Yes, and a pretty damozel you are!
JANE No, not pretty. Massive. Cheer up! I will never leave
you, I swear it!
BUN. Oh, thank you! I know what it is; it's his confounded
mildness. They find me too highly spiced, if you please! And no
doubt I am highly spiced.
JANE Not for my taste!
BUN. [savagely] No, but I am for theirs. But I will show the
world I can be as mild as he. If they want insipidity, they
shall have it. I'll meet this fellow on his own ground and beat
him on it.
JANE You shall. And I will help you.
BUN. You will? Jane, there's a good deal of good in you, after
all!
No. 15. So go to him and say to him
(Duet)
Jane and Bunthorne
[Dance]
JANE So go to him and say to him, with compliment ironical--
BUNTHORNE Sing "Hey to you--
Good-day to you"--
And that's what I shall say!
JANE "Your style is much too sanctified -- your cut is too
canonical"--
BUNTHORNE Sing "Bah to you--
Ha! ha! to you"--
And that's what I shall say!
JANE "I was the beau ideal of the morbid young aesthetical--
To doubt my inspiration was regarded as heretical--
Until you cut me out with your placidity emetical."
BUNTHORNE Sing "Booh to you--
Pooh, pooh to you"--
And that's what I shall say!
Sing "Booh to you--
Pooh, pooh to you"--
And that's what I shall say!
JANE BUNTHORNE
Sing "Hey to you -- good-day to you"-- "Hey,
Sing "Bah to you -- ha! ha! to you"-- Good-day
Sing "Booh to you -- pooh, pooh to you"-- Bah.
And that's what you should say! ha! ha!
Sing "Hey to you -- good-day to you"-- "Booh,
Sing "Bah to you --ha! ha! to you"-- pooh-pooh
Sing "Booh to you"-- Bah.
And that's what you should say! And that's what I shall
say!
"Bah, bah," "Booh, booh,"
And that's what you should say! And that's what I shall
say!
"Booh, booh," "Bah, bah,"
And that's what you should say! And that's what I shall
say!
BUNTHORNE I'll tell him that unless he will consent to be more
jocular--
JANE Sing "Booh to you--
Pooh, pooh to you"--
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE To cut his curly hair, and stick an eyeglass in his
ocular--
JANE Sing "Bah to you--
Ha! ha! to you"--
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE To stuff his conversation full of quibble and of
quiddity,
To dine on chops and roly-poly pudding with
avidity--
He'd better clear away with all convenient
rapidity.
JANE Sing "Hey to you--
Good-day to you"--
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE Sing "Booh to you--
Pooh, pooh to you"--
And that's what I shall say!
JANE BUNTHORNE
Sing "Hey to you -- good-day to you"-- "Hey,
Sing "Bah to you -- ha! ha! to you"-- Good-day
Sing "Booh to you -- pooh, pooh to you"-- Bah.
And that's what you should say! ha! ha!
Sing "Hey to you -- good-day to you"-- "Booh,
Sing "Bah to you -- ha! ha! to you"-- pooh-pooh
Sing "Booh to you"-- Bah.
And that's what you should say! And that's what I shall
say!
"Bah, bah," "Booh, booh,"
And that's what you should say! And that's what I shall
say!
"Booh, booh," "Bah, bah,"
And that's what you should say! And that's what I shall
say!
[They dance off,
L.]
[Enter DUKE, COLONEL, and MAJOR, R. They have abandoned their
uniforms, and are dressed and made up in imitation of
Aesthetics. They have long hair, and other signs of
attachment to the brotherhood. As they sing they walk in
stiff, constrained, and angular attitudes -- a grotesque
exaggeration of the attitudes adopted by BUNTHORNE and the
young LADIES in Act I.]
[Enter DUKE... enter MAJOR... enter COLONEL, Attitude. They walk
to C.]
No. 16. It's clear that mediaeval art
(Trio)
Duke, Major, and Colonel
ALL It's clear that medieval art alone retains its zest,
To charm and please its devotees we've done our little best.
We're not quite sure if all we do has the Early English
ring;
But, as far as we can judge, it's something like this sort
of thing:
You hold yourself like this, [attitude]
You hold yourself like that, [attitude]
By hook and crook you try to look both angular and flat
[attitude].
We venture to expect
That what we recollect,
Though but a part of true High Art, will have its due
effect.
If this is not exactly right, we hope you won't upbraid;
You can't get high Aesthetic tastes, like trousers, ready
made.
True views on Medieavalism Time alone will bring,
But, as far as we can judge, it's something like this sort
of thing:
You hold yourself like this, [attitude]
You hold yourself like that, [attitude]
By hook and crook you try to look both angular and flat
[attitude].
To cultivate the trim
Rigidity of limb,
You ought to get a Marionette, and form your style on him
[attitude].
[Attitudes change in time to the music.]
COLONEL [attitude] Yes, it's quite clear that our only chance of
making a lasting impression on these young ladies is to become as
aesthetic as they are.
MAJOR [attitude] No doubt. The only question is how far we've
succeeded in doing so. I don't know why, but I've an idea that
this is not quite right.
DUKE [attitude] I don't like it. I never did. I don't see what
it means. I do it, but I don't like it.
COLONEL My good friend, the question is not whether we like it,
but whether they do. They understand these things -- we don't.
Now I shouldn't be surprised if this is effective enough -- at a
distance.
MAJOR I can't help thinking we're a little stiff at it. It
would be extremely awkward if we were to be "struck" so!
COLONEL I don't think we shall be struck so. Perhaps we're a
little awkward at first -- but everything must have a beginning.
Oh, here they come! 'Tention!
[They strike fresh attitudes, as ANGELA and SAPHIR enter, L.]
ANGELA [seeing them] Oh, Saphir -- see -- see! The immortal
fire has descended on them, and they are of the Inner Brotherhood
-- perceptively intense and consummately utter.
[The OFFICERS have some difficulty in maintaining their
constrained attitudes.]
SAPHIR [in admiration] How Botticelian! How Fra Angelican! Oh,
Art, we thank thee for this boon!
COLONEL [apologetically] I'm afraid we're not quite right.
ANGELA Not supremely, perhaps, but oh, so all -- but!
[to SAPHIR] Oh, Saphir, are they not quite too all -- but?
SAPHIR They are indeed jolly utter!
MAJOR [in agony] I wonder what the Inner Brotherhood usually
recommend for cramp?
COLONEL Ladies, we will not deceive you. We are doing this at
some personal inconvenience with a view of expressing the
extremity of our devotion to you. We trust that it is not
without its effect.
ANGELA We will not deny that we are much moved by this proof of
your attachment.
SAPHIR Yes, your conversion to the principles of Aesthetic Art
in its highest development has touched us deeply.
ANGELA And if Mr. Bunthorne should remain obdurate--
SAPHIR Which we have every reason to believe he will--
MAJOR [aside, in agony] I wish they'd make haste! [The others
hush him.]
ANGELA We are not prepared to say that our yearning hearts will
not go out to you.
COLONEL [as giving a word of command] By sections of threes --
Rapture! [All strike a fresh attitude, expressive of aesthetic
rapture.]
SAPHIR Oh, it's extremely good -- for beginners it's admirable.
MAJOR The only question is, who will take who?
COLONEL Oh, the Duke chooses first, as a matter of course.
DUKE Oh, I couldn't thank of it -- you are really too good!
COLONEL Nothing of the kind. You are a great matrimonial fish,
and it's only fair that each of these ladies should have a chance
of hooking you. It's perfectly simple. Observe, suppose you
choose Angela, I take Saphir, Major takes nobody. [with
increasing speed] Suppose you choose Saphir, Major tales Angela,
I take nobody. Suppose you choose neither, I take Angela, Major
takes Saphir. Clear as day!
[The officers, with obvious relief, abandon their aesthetic
attitudes, and, with the Ladies, dance into position. L. to
R. 1st verse: Colonel with Angela; Duke with Saphir; Major
alone. 2nd verse: Colonel alone; Angela with Duke; Saphir
with Major. 3rd verse: Colonel with Saphir; Duke alone;
Angela with Major.]
No. 17. If Saphir I choose to marry
Quintet
Duke, Colonel, Major, Angela, and Saphir
DUKE If Saphir I choose to marry,
I shall be fixed up for life;
Then the Colonel need not tarry,
Angela can be his wife.
MAJOR In that case unprecedented,
Single I shall live and die--
I shall have to be contented
With their heartfelt sympathy!
ALL He will have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I will/shall live and die--
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
DUKE If on Angy I determine,
At my wedding she'll appear,
Decked in diamond and ermine.
Major then can take Saphir!
COLONEL In that case unprecedented,
Single I shall live and die--
I shall have to be contented
With their heartfelt sympathy!
ALL He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I will/shall live and die--
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
[Positions at beginning of Verse 3: L. to R., COLONEL, ANGELA,
DUKE, SAPHIR, MAJOR]
DUKE After some debate internal,
If on neither I decide,
Saphir then can take the Colonel,
[Hands her to the COLONEL.]
Angy be the Major's bride!
[Hands her to the MAJOR.]
In that case unprecedented,
Single I shall live and die--
I shall have to be contented
With their heartfelt sympathy!
ALL He will have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I will/shall live and die--
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
[They dance off, arm-in-arm, up-stage and off, L.U.E., the
COLONEL leading with SAPHIR.]
[Enter GROSVENOR, R.U.E.]
GROS. It is very pleasant to be alone. It is pleasant to be
able to gaze at leisure upon those features which all others may
gaze upon at their good will! [Looking at his reflection in
hand-mirror.] Ah, I am a very Narcissus!
[Enter BUNTHORNE, L. moodily.]
BUN. It's no use; I can't live without admiration. Since
Grosvenor came here, insipidity has been at a premium. Ah, he is
there!
GROS. Ah, Bunthorne! Come here -- look! Very graceful, isn't
it!
BUN. [taking hand-mirror] Allow me; I haven't seen it. Yes, it
is graceful.
GROS. [taking back the mirror) Oh, good gracious! not that --
this--
BUN. You don't mean that! Bah! I am in no mood for trifling.
GROS. And what is amiss?
BUN. Ever since you came here, you have entirely monopolized the
attentions of the young ladies. I don't like it, sir!
GROS. My dear sir, how can I help it? They are the plague of my
life. My dear Mr. Bunthorne, with your personal disadvantages,
you can have no idea of the inconvenience of being madly loved,
at first sight, by every woman you meet.
BUN. Sir, until you came here I was adored!
GROS. Exactly -- until I came here. That's my grievance. I cut
everybody out! I assure you, if you could only suggest some
means whereby, consistently with my duty to society, I could
escape these inconvenient attentions, you would earn my
everlasting gratitude.
BUN. I will do so at once. However popular it may be with the
world at large, your personal appearance is highly objectionable
to me.
GROS. It is? [shaking his hand] Oh, thank you! thank you! How
can I express my gratitude?
BUN. By making a complete change at once. Your conversation
must henceforth be perfectly matter-of-fact. You must cut your
hair, and have a back parting. In appearance and costume you
must be absolutely commonplace.
GROS. [decidedly] No. Pardon me, that's impossible.
BUN. Take care! When I am thwarted I am very terrible.
GROS. I can't help that. I am a man with a mission. And that
mission must be fulfilled.
BUN. I don't think you quite appreciate the consequences of
thwarting me.
GROS. I don't care what they are.
BUN. Suppose -- I won't go so far as to say that I will do it --
but suppose for one moment I were to curse you? [GROSVENOR
quails.] Ah! Very well. Take care.
GROS. But surely you would never do that? [In great alarm]
BUN. I don't know. It would be an extreme measure, no doubt.
Still--
GROS. [wildly] But you would not do it -- I am sure you would
not. [Throwing himself at BUNTHORNE's knees, and clinging to him]
Oh, reflect, reflect! You had a mother once.
BUN. Never!
GROS. Then you had an aunt! [BUNTHORNE affected.] Ah! I see
you had! By the memory of that aunt, I implore you to pause ere
you resort to this last fearful expedient. Oh, Mr. Bunthorne,
reflect, reflect! [Weeping]
BUN. [aside, after a struggle with himself] I must not allow
myself to be unmanned! [aloud] It is useless. Consent at once,
or may a nephew's curse--
GROS. Hold! Are you absolutely resolved?
BUN. Absolutely.
GROS. Will nothing shake you?
BUN. Nothing. I am adamant.
GROS. Very good. [rising] Then I yield.
BUN. Ha! You swear it?
GROS. I do, cheerfully. I have long wished for a reasonable
pretext for such a change as you suggest. It has come at last.
I do it on compulsion!
BUN. Victory! I triumph!
No. 18. When I go out of door
(Duet)
Bunthorne and Grosvenor
[Each one dances around the stage while the other is singing his
solo verses.]
BUNTHORNE When I go out of door,
Of damozels a score
(All sighing and burning,
And clinging and yearning)
Will follow me as before.
I shall, with cultured taste,
Distinguish gems from paste,
And "High diddle diddle"
Will rank as an idyll,
If I pronounce it chaste!
BOTH A most intense young man,
A soulful-eyed young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical,
Out-of-the-way young man!
GROSVENOR Conceive me, if you can,
An ev'ryday young man:
A commonplace type,
With a stick and a pipe,
And a half-bred black-and-tan;
Who thinks suburban "hops"
More fun than "Monday Pops,"--
Who's fond of his dinner,
And doesn't get thinner
On bottled beer and chops.
BOTH A commonplace young man,
A matter-of-fact young man--
A steady and stolidy, jolly Bank-holiday,
Every-day young man!
BUNTHORNE A Japanese young man--
A blue-and-white young man--
Francesca di Rimini, miminy, piminy,
Je-ne-sais-quoi young man!
GROSVENOR A Chancery lane young man--
A Somerset House young man,--
A very delectable, highly respectable
Three-penny-bus young man!
BUNTHORNE A pallid and thin young man--
A haggard and lank young man,
A greenery-yallery, Grosvenor Gallery,
Foot-in-the-grave young man!
GROSVENOR A Sewell and Cross young man,
A Howell & James young man,
A pushing young particle -- "What's the next
article?"--
Waterloo House young man!
BUNTHORNE GROSVENOR
Conceive me, if you can, Conceive me, if you can,
A crotchety, cracked young man, A matter-of-fact young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical, An alphabetical,
arithmetical,
Out-of-the way young man! Every day young man!
Conceive me, if you can, Conceive me, if you can,
A crotchety, cracked young man, A matter-of-fact young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical, An alphabetical,
arithmetical,
Out-of-the way young man! Every day young man!
[GROSVENOR dances off, L.U.E. ]
BUN. It is all right! I have committed my last act of illnature,
and henceforth I'm a changed character.
[Dances about stage, humming refrain of last air. Enter
PATIENCE, L. She gazes in astonishment at him.]
PATIENCE Reginald! Dancing! And -- what in the world is the
matter with you?
BUN. Patience, I'm a changed man. Hitherto I've been gloomy,
moody, fitful -- uncertain in temper and selfish in disposition--
PATIENCE You have, indeed! [sighing]
BUN. All that is changed. I have reformed. I have modelled
myself upon Mr. Grosvenor. Henceforth I am mildly cheerful. My
conversation will blend amusement with instruction. I shall
still be aesthetic; but my aestheticism will be of the most
pastoral kind.
PATIENCE Oh, Reginald! Is all this true?
BUN. Quite true. Observe how amiable I am. [Assuming a fixed
smile]
PATIENCE But, Reginald, how long will this last?
BUN. With occasional intervals for rest and refreshment, as long
as I do.
PATIENCE Oh, Reginald, I'm so happy! Oh, dear, dear Reginald, I
cannot express the joy I feel at this change. It will no longer
be a duty to love you, but a pleasure -- a rapture -- an ecstasy!
BUN. My darling! [embracing her]
PATIENCE But -- oh, horror! [recoiling from him]
BUN. What's the matter?
PATIENCE Is it quite certain that you have absolutely reformed -
- that you are henceforth a perfect being -- utterly free from
defect of any kind?
BUN. It is quite certain. I have sworn it.
PATIENCE Then I never can be yours! [crossing to R.C.]
BUN. Why not?
PATIENCE Love, to be pure, must be absolutely unselfish, and
there can be nothing unselfish in loving so perfect a being as
you have now become!
BUN. But, stop a bit. I don't want to change -- I'll relapse --
I'll be as I was -- interrupted!
[Enter GROSVENOR, L.U.E., followed by all the young LADIES, who
are followed by Chorus of DRAGOONS. He has had his hair
cut, and is dressed in an ordinary suit and a bowler hat.
They all dance cheerfully round the stage in marked contrast
to their former languor.]
No. 19. I'm a Waterloo House young man
(Solo and Chorus)
Grosvenor and Maidens
GROSVENOR I'm a Waterloo House young man,
A Sewell & Cross young man,
A steady and stolidy, jolly Bank-holiday,
Everyday young man.
MAIDENS We're Swears & Wells young girls,
We're Madame Louise young girls,
We're prettily pattering, cheerily chattering,
Every-day young girls.
BUN. [C.] Angela -- Ella -- Saphir -- what -- what does this
mean?
ANGELA [R.] It means that Archibald the All-Right cannot be allwrong;
and if the All-Right chooses to discard aestheticism, it
proves that aestheticism ought to be discarded.
PATIENCE Oh, Archibald! Archibald! I'm shocked -- surprised --
horrified!
GROS. [L.C.] I can't help it. I'm not a free agent. I do it on
compulsion.
PATIENCE This is terrible. Go! I shall never set eyes on you
again. But -- oh, joy!
GROS.[L.C.] What is the matter?
PATIENCE [R.C.] Is it quite, quite certain that you will always
be a commonplace young man?
GROS. Always -- I've sworn it.
PATIENCE Why, then, there's nothing to prevent my loving you
with all the fervour at my command!
GROS. Why, that's true.
PATIENCE [crossing to him] My Archibald!
GROS. My Patience! [They embrace.]
BUN. Crushed again!
[Enter JANE, L.]
JANE [who is still aesthetic] Cheer up! I am still here. I
have never left you, and I never will!
BUN. Thank you, Jane. After all, there is no denying it, you're
a fine figure of a woman!
JANE My Reginald!
BUN. My Jane! [They embrace.]
Fanfare
[Enter, R., COLONEL, MAJOR, and DUKE. They are again in
uniform.]
COLONEL Ladies, the Duke has at length determined to select a
bride!
[General excitement]
DUKE [R.] I have a great gift to bestow. Approach, such of you
as are truly lovely. [All the MAIDENS come forward, bashfully,
except JANE and PATIENCE.] In personal appearance you have all
that is necessary to make a woman happy. In common fairness, I
think I ought to choose the only one among you who has the
misfortune to be distinctly plain. [Girls retire disappointed.]
Jane!
JANE [leaving BUNTHORNE's arms] Duke! [JANE and DUKE embrace.
BUNTHORNE is utterly disgusted.]
BUN. Crushed again!
No. 20. After much debate internal
(Finale of Act II)
Ensemble
DUKE [R.C.] After much debate internal,
I on Lady Jane decide,
Saphir now may take the Col'nel,
Angry be the Major's bride!
[SAPHIR pairs off with COLONEL, R., ANGELA with MAJOR, L.C.,
ELLA with SOLICITOR, L.]
BUNTHORNE [C.] In that case unprecedented,
Single I must live and die--
I shall have to be contented
With a tulip or li-ly!
[BUNTHORNE, C., takes a lily from buttonhole and gazes
affectionately at it.]
SAPHIR, ELLA,
ANGELA, DUKE,
BUNTHORNE and
COLONEL He will have to be contented
With a tulip or li-ly!
ALL In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I must live and die--
He will/I shall have to be contented
With a tulip or li-ly!
Greatly pleased with one another,
To get married we/they decide.
Each of us/them will wed the other,
Nobody be Bunthorne's Bride!
Dance
End of Opera