Libretti

The home of SIMON LIMAL, the weaver – a sombre, wretched-looking dwelling. At the back is a window-opening, giving a view of a narrow alley leading to the market-place; and on the left of the window is the street-door. On the right of the room there is a flight of steep steps leading to the entrance to a loft; and below the steps stands the weaver‘s loom. On the left of the room is the hearth; below the hearth is a poor shrine containing an image of the Virgin; and, below that, a door admitting to a bed- chamber. In the centre stands a table and chair, and on each side of the hearth is a stool. There is sunshine without, and a narrow shaft of light streams through a little window which is seen in the roof of the loft.

SIMON LIMAL is at the loom, JOAN is making a fire with sticks. They are a feeble, prematurely-aged pair – ragged, poverty – stricken, bent with toil.

DUET. – SIMON and JOAN.

SIMON. Click, clack, click, clack – For ever the shuttle flies! Here in the gloom From out the loom It groans and rattles and cries! Oh, would the day were ended when the end of the daylight dies! Click, clack, click, clack – For ever the shuttle flies!

SIMON. Wife, where is Laine? JOAN. Gone to buy bread and to draw water.

JOAN. Click, clack, click, clack – The night and the day are one! The moon may sleep On the castle keep, But our travail outstays the sun! Yea, when the daylight is ended our day is only begun! Click, clack, click, clack – The night and the day are one!

BOTH. Across the narrow street The crooked shadows meet, And the sound of falling feet Echoes faintly and grows dumb; And the moonbeams creep and crawl Down each gable to the wall. Ah, could night but end it all, We would pray the night were come! Click, clack, click, clack!

SIMON. Why dost thou send Laine abroad at such a time?

JOAN. Gramercy! have I done ill?

SIMON. The town is aflame with preparation for the Show of Beauty that is to be held in the market-place an hour beyond noon. Beauty! a murrain upon beauty, say I!

JOAN. Nay, if we curse everything we lack, thy shuttle will cease to fly and my sticks to crackle. SIMON. Aye, but it is harder upon our child that upon us who are waxing old. And to-day there is like to be mockery in the streets, and bitter jesting, at the sight of maid so uncomely as Laine, and a cripple into the bargain.

JOAN (putting on her hood). Holy Saints protect her! I will go forth.

From the distance come the sounds of uproar and mocking laughter.

SIMON. Hark!

JOAN (looking out of the window). A crowd of idle lads and girls.

SIMON. They come nearer!

JOAN. To jeer at thee and me, I trow. SIMON (fetching his staff). My staff!

JOAN. Let it rest; we are well used to being flouted at for the most toil-bent and broken couple in Mirlemont.

SIMON (at the window). See! they are making fine sport of something in their midst.

JOAN. That impish dwarf, Peppin, is one of them. SIMON. And that good-for-naught, Jacqueline. JOAN. There‘s mischief where she is.

SIMON. Somebody has stumbled – fallen!

JOAN. A girl!

SIMON. They raise her – hurry her hither.

JOAN (with a cry). It is Laine!

LAINE is seen to pass the window accompanied by JACQUELINE.

JOAN opens the door, and LAINE stumbles in, carrying a broken pitcher. LAINE is a poorly-clad slip of a girl with a little, wan, pinched face, framed in a tightly fitting cap. One of her shoulders is hunched, and she hobbles with the aid of a crutch.

SIMON and JOAN bear her tenderly to a seat as a mob of lads and girls, in holiday attire, appear in the alley. A few follow JACQUELINE into the room, others thrust their heads in at the window. A youth commences to ply SIMON‘s loom vigorously, while PEPPIN – a hideous, big-headed dwarf – swarms up the steps leading to the loft, and sits there surveying the scene. JACQUELINE – a ragged young woman with a towzled head and bright, mischievous eyes – does her best to keep the crowd at bay.

CHORUS.

Hobble, hobble, now we‘ve caught her, Scuttling homeward like a rat, Limping Laine, the weaver‘s daughter! By St. Joseph, look at that!

JOAN. Aye, ‚tis Laine, our crippled daughter! By St. Joseph, look at that!

WOMEN. Saints above us, what a couple!

MEN. Sooth he‘s fashioned like a sickle,

WOMEN. All his back is bent and double, –

MEN. – and his legs are not a pair!

CHORUS. Lo! her skin is made of leather that has soaked too long in pickle, And her eyes are hung in cobwebs! see, there‘s mildew in her hair!

SIMON. Holy Mother! have a care!

CHORUS. That‘s her father! And the other? That‘s her mother! What a pair! SIMON. Holy Mother! would ye dare?

CHORUS. Nay, sir Weaver, spare your cudgel, and when next your crooked daughter Limps and hobble o‘er the cobbles, with her body turned askew, Patch and mend her ere ye send her to the gossips‘ well for water, Lest we take her crutch and rend her! Holy Mother, what a crew!

SIMON. Carrion kites, what would ye do?

CHORUS. Holy Mother, what a crew!

JOAN. Wretches! SIMON. Fiends!

LAINE. Look! they have made me break the pitcher. JOAN. Grieve not for that; thy mother has thee safe. SIMON. Out of my house, all of ye! (to JACQUELINE.) And you, you wastrel, you plague o‘ the town, get you gone speedily, lest I forget thou‘rt a woman, and snap thine arm with my staff!

CROWD. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

LAINE. Nay, father, scold not poor Jacqueline. But for her coming to my aid I had not only broken the pitcher, methinks; they pressed about me so roughly. SIMON. Say you!

JACQ. True, I am for as much fun as any man or maid in Mirlemont, but I will take no share in teasing a girl because her face is pinched, her nose is sharp, and her back awry. (To the crowd.) Pigs! swine of all colours!

CROWD (threateningly). Ah-h-h-h!

A handsome, shrewish-looking, dark girl detaches herself from the crowd and approaches JACQUELINE.

THE GIRL (to JACQUELINE). Thou rag-heap, thou art not over well-favoured thyself; thou dost wisely to ply thy tongue in behalf of this ugly tribe.

CROWD. Ha, ha!

THE GIRL. But once wag tongue at me, and I‘ll teach thee – !

JACQ. Ho, ho, ho! Who speaks here? – the Beauty of Mirlemont! (to the girl.) Yea, I hear thou offerest thyself to-day as candidate for the prize of loveliness. Why, thou lank, bony thing, dost thou imagine that lord Philip will award the wreath of rose- buds and the girdle of virgin silver to thee? To thee, when all the pretty ones from Bovigny, and from St. Hubert, and from Lenalede, and from the whole country- side, are trooping into the town! Beshrew me, but the Lord of Mirlemont is at least a true judge of what is passable in woman. Holy Mother! regard thyself! THE GIRL. I‘ll scratch thine eyes out!

JACQ. Best tear out thine own ere thou competest for this prize, lest thy squint should disqualify thee.

THE GIRL (seizing JACQUELINE). Ah – !

SIMON (coming between them). Peace, cats!

A LAD (to JACQUELINE). Nay, Jacqueline, let us have no bad blood at holiday time. Remember, you promised us pure fun –

JACQ (to the crowd). Cease baiting cripples then. Away! let us to the house of old Peter Thilbrugge, the miser, and hurl stones through his windows!

CROWD (joyously). Ah-h-h-h!

The crowd gradually disperses. As PEPPIN is clambering out of the window,

JACQUELINE gives him a push, and he falls. The crowd disappears, laughing.

LAINE (embracing JACQUELINE). I thank thee, dear Jacqueline.

JOAN. Ah, Jacqueline, if thou but hadst a mother – ! SIMON. Thou hast served us a good turn, jade that thou art. I cannot repay thee –

JACQ. Canst thou not! Give me thy staff.

SIMON (giving her his staff). For what?

JACQ. That I may break the dwarf‘s skull. I‘ll learn him to be impudent to Laine again! Whoop!

She runs out, gleefully.

JOAN (to LAINE). Why, what has Peppin, the dwarf, said or done to thee?

LAINE (sitting, gazing into the fire). They bade him kiss me, and – though in sooth he made a wry face at the task – he was for obeying them.

SIMON. Kiss thee! JOAN. Put his lips to thine!

LAINE. Yea. For they said that no straight and fair man would ever kiss a maid so unshapely as I, and that I ought to thank God and the Saints for being kissed even by a dwarf.

JOAN (aside to SIMON). Oh, good man – !

SIMON (aside to JOAN). Tush! she will soon forget this insult, as she hath forgot many others. Let us leave her for a while, wife. Close and bar the shutters. Will fetch another pitcher and go to the well with thee.

LAINE. Listen, mother! here comes one of the strange girls who offer themselves for the lord Philip‘s prize.

A pretty, fair girl, crowned with lilies, is seen to pass the windows, accompanied by her parents and a small following of friends.

CHORUS.

Maidens and men of Mirlemont town, Hither we come at your call! Ye have bidden the fairest, then needs must ye own We bring ye the fairest of all! White lilies she wears for a crown, For her cheek as a lily is white, And straight as a lily she grows, Straight and slender and tall; Yet day shall not draw to its close Ere the lily be changed to the rose, For shall ye not crown her to-night The fairest of all?

LAINE. Didst thou note her face? hath she beauty?

SIMON (shaking his fist at the window as he goes up the steps to the loft). Beauty! beauty! beauty!

LAINE (weeping upon JOAN‘s shoulder). Oh, alack-the-day!

JOAN. Hush! weep not!

LAINE. Mother, the Lord of Mirlemont doth forget how many ill- looking maids are within his township, or he would not shame them in this fashion. Oh, but none so ill-looking as I! none so ill-looking as I!

JOAN. The lord Philip! he cares naught so that he may feast his eyes on what is fair and delicate. Malison on him!

LAINE. Nay, mother, it can only be that he wishes to pleasure the townsfolk by this show of beauty.

JOAN. Why, prithee!

LAINE. Because – how long is ‚t agone? – once, while I was drawing water at the well, I heard two old wives whisper that the lord Philip loves this eastern lady that dwells in the castle.

JOAN. Yea, and the gossips now declare that he wearies of her sorely. But thou‘rt a child, and a poor innocent; give no ear to their rede, one way or another.

LAINE. Yet I would I could become a little brown moth to-day, for an hour, that I might flutter about the steps of the town-hall and gain a close peep at the lord Philip and the lady Saida. JOAN. Foolish wench!

LAINE. Nay, not at her then, but at him. In sooth he is very gallant-looking.

JOAN. A sluggard, a dreamer; with a soft tongue, a heavy eye, and an idle sword. Gallant-looking! Where was our gallant when John the Fearless assembled the brave lords of Flanders about his standard at St. Omer? Why, snug within the castle of Mirlemont, listening to his olive-skinned dame singing to her lute, or watching her as she danced, waving her veils, in the sunlight upon the terrace. Where is he now when the Lord of Pieruels and the rebel-rats from Liege are laying waste the land and driving forth the good Prince Bishop like kine to the marsh? Why, dallying in our market-place, crowning with a wreath of blossom, and clasping with a girdle of virgin silver, the prettiest maid that simpers under his glances!

SIMON (descending the steps, carrying a pitcher). Hey, wife, what is all this coil?

JOAN (closing and barring the shutters). I am but chiding the child for being so deject over this mummery in the market-place.

SIMON (to LAINE). Come, girl, after all, Heaven‘s gate will not open more readily to cherry cheeks than to thy white face.

LAINE (wistfully). Yea, father, but one has to die first to prove it. Meanwhile, a maid must needs be beautiful, or ‚tis but dreary waiting.

SIMON. Waiting is waiting, girl, for comely or crooked.

LAINE. Nay, love maketh the waiting easier. SIMON. Love!

LAINE. So I have bethought me. And on earth the crooked and unsightly may not hope to be loved; therefore the waiting is irksome.

JOAN (approaching her). Gramercy! do we not love thee? LAINE (embracing them). Truly. I am ungrateful.

SIMON (to JOAN). Come, wife. (At the open door, to LAINE.) Fasten up the door, and open to none but us.

SIMON and JOAN depart. LAINE secures the door. The room is now in darkness save for the shaft of light coming from the opening to the loft.

LAINE. Ungrateful; in sooth, that am I. (Standing before the shrine.) And yet –

SONG. – LAINE.

Dear Mary Mother, unto thee I bring A poor maid‘s prayer! I am a crooked, wan, misshapen thing, And may not dare To lift mine eyes to thine, lest haply so Thy heart should find no pity left to spare For all my woe! Mother of Jesu, at they feet I cry; I do but crave for love That so my heart may live, Else what am I? Nay, and if God above Hath naught of love to give, I fain would die!

To Him who gave the rose its vermeil hue ‚Twere vain to pray That He should make this body straight and new And fair alway. Sooth, that were vain, yet thou canst bid God send-- Whereas the night-time endeth every day – My day may end! Mother of Jesu, at they feet I cry; For well I wis ‚tis so; Love sorts but with the fair, And naught am I! Wherefore I fain would go, Praying but this one prayer, That I may die!

As LAINE ends her appeal, one of the shutters becomes transparent and a diabolical-looking face, with a red glow upon it, is seen leering at her. After a moment the face vanishes, and there are three distinct raps upon the door.

LAINE (opening the shutters and looking out). Who knocks?

A VOICE (without). PAX HUIC DOMUI ET OMNIBUS HABITANTIBUS IN EA!

The room is now light again. She unbolts the door and admits the DEVIL. He is in the guise of a friar. He limps slightly, has a forked, red beard and long finger-nails, but is of genial demeanour.

DEVIL. Good morrow, daughter.

LAINE. I was bid to open to none, father; but we did not look for a holy visitor.

DEVIL. Nay, I would not have thee disregard an injunction. Always obey those placed above thee. Yet, hearing there is adversity and heaviness of heart beneath this roof, I would fain leave behind me a few words of blessed consolation.

LAINE. I thank thee, father.

DEVIL (smacking his lips). But first give me a cup of water.

LAINE. We have no water till my father and mother return from the well. (Showing him the broken pitcher.) I grieve more than ever I have broken my pitcher. See, ‚tis bottom-less.

DEVIL. Nay, ‚twill content me.

He puts the mouth of the pitcher to his lips, and takes a deep draught.

LAINE. Father! do you mock me, as others do?

DEVIL. Mock thee, my daughter!

He turns the mouth of the pitcher downwards; a stream of water flows from it.

LAINE. Oh, Holy Saints!

DEVIL (replacing the pitcher upon the table). Yea, we cannot be too thankful to them.

LAINE. Father, thou‘rt a stranger in Mirlemont, I trow. We have no such good man here as you must be, for the Saints to give thee water from a bottomless pot.

DEVIL. Alack, I am but a sinner, my daughter, or they would make it wine. (Sitting.) But truly I am a stranger, as you remark. I have travelled a great distance, having some curiosity to examine the fine cities of Flanders and Brabant. Though, sooth, a little town like thy Mirlemont amuses me more.

LAINE. We call not Mirlemont little.

DEVIL. That is one of the things that amuse me in Mirlemont. (With enjoyment.) Another, that they chase their cripples here at holiday time.

LAINE (hiding her face). Oh, father!

DEVIL. Ha, ha! I did perceive them hunting thee as I entered at the North Gate. (In an altered tone.) And so, out of tender sympathy for thee, I begged to know thy dwelling-place. (Rising.) You and thy worthy parents are named the Ugly Family by the good folk of Mirlemont, I learn?

LAINE. Yea, and answer to it aptly.

DEVIL (limping towards her). Well, there is much virtue among the ugly.

LAINE. Truly, we are virtuous, Heaven take count of it.

DEVIL. That should make you all vastly content.

LAINE. I would be more content, father, but for my lameness.

DEVIL. I limp a little also, daughter, as you have observed. How came you to halt?

LAINE. I had a fall when I was a baby.

DEVIL. Strange; I had a nasty fall, too, in early manhood. (Slyly.) Ahem! thou wert at thy devotions, my daughter, when I struck upon the door?

LAINE. How know‘st thou that?

DEVIL. I heard the pious murmur as I stood without. That‘s right; pray, pray, pray. There‘s nothing like it.

LAINE. Father, thy knocking fell upon my ears as though it were in answer to my prayer.

DEVIL. H‘m! thou wert praying for some special dispensation, wert thou not? LAINE. Why, did my words reach thee?

DEVIL. But faintly.

LAINE. I confess, father; I do desire to die; pleaseth God to take me.

DEVIL. To die! before thou hast lived!

LAINE. I have lived long enough.

DEVIL. Nay, thou hast never been beautiful.

LAINE. Father – !

DEVIL. Therefore thou hast never been loved, as young maids should be loved. Therefore, being ugly and unloved, I say thou hast not lived.

LAINE. Father, these are my own wicked thoughts!

DEVIL. Wicked!

LAINE. Are they not so?

DEVIL. Nay.

LAINE (unsteadily). Oh – !

DEVIL. H‘m, well mayst thou regard my visit as an answer to thy prayer. For look! (taking from his pouch a little bag.) I chance to carry this upon me –

LAINE. What is‘t?

DEVIL. My daughter, the little pebble lying within this bag is the instrument by which a strange miracle may be wrought.

LAINE. What fashion of miracle?

DEVIL. One that maketh an ugly item of humanity most beauteous. LAINE. Beauteous! DEVIL. Surpassingly beauteous.

LAINE (after a pause, frightened). Nay, I will not believe that!

He seizes her by the wrist.

LAINE. Oh! Father, thy nails are long and sharp; they cut into me! father – ! Ah, here come my parents! tell them not of my prayer

JOAN and SIMON appear without.

RECITATIVE (QUARTET).

SIMON (looking in). Who stands within?

JOAN. Hush! ‚tis a Holy Friar.

JOAN and SIMON enter.

DEVIL. Chide not this simple maid; the fault was mine!

JOAN. No fault, in sooth!

SIMON. ‚Twas not ‚gainst such as thee Our door was barred!

JOAN. Yet, holy father, say How comes it that the light of Heaven hath crept To our dark home? DEVIL. My children, I have heard Ye stand in little favour in this town; Wherefore I thought to pause upon my way And proffer comfort. Sooth, and as ye came, In pleasant converse with yon crippled child I chanced to shew her this!

He holds up the bag containing the stone, which now glows with supernatural light. SIMON and JOAN shrink back, half in terror.

SIMON and JOAN. What is it? Speak!

DEVIL. Well may ye ask, for hidden here doth lie A little stone hewn from a sunken rock Whose giant shadow rising from the deep Empurples the blue sea! Yet long ago, In Holier days, it reared its sacred head Moss-mantled o‘er the wave; and on its crest Once trod the Virgin‘s feet. And since that hour This little particle of precious stone – A relic rescued from the wreck of time – Hath so much virtue, that on man or maid, Whoe‘er it be who owns it, there doth fall The gift of perfect beauty!

SIMON. Beauty!

JOAN. Beauty!

LAINE. Yea, truly ‚twas of beauty that he spake E‘en as ye came. SIMON. Ah, prithee, tell me then, How falls this miracle!

JOAN. Aye, tell us that!

The DEVIL produces the stone, through which is threaded a fine cord.

DEVIL. Draw anear and ye shall hear! Tremble not, ‚tis naught to fear! On the bare breast of man or maid Naked shall this stone be laid; Snug and secret must it lie Hidden close from every eye, For one and only one shall own The mystic virtues of this stone.

SIMON. Father, bestow it! Aye, bestow it here! No home in Flanders is so waste and drear, Lacking a comely presence: we are worn, And bent with years and toiling night and morn! Our child is sickly, hapless was she born! Bestow it here! DEVIL. Weaver, thou didst not heed me; I have shewn This wondrous gift is not for all to own, But whoso wears it, he or she alone, May hope to win The beauty that lies hidden deep within This glittering stone.

ENSEMBLE.

JOAN and SIMON. Though that should be, yet on our knees we pray, Grant to this darkened house the light of day! O, hear our prayer! In pity hear us! let but Heaven‘s sweet ray Make one face fair!

LAINE. Ah, Holy Mother, little need had they To crave this lamp to light them on their way

Had I been fair! Wherefore I too would kneel to thee to-day – O, hear our prayer!

DEVIL. Weaver, thou didst not heed me; I have shewn

This wondrous gift is not for all to own,

But whoso wears it, he or she alone,

May hope to win

The beauty that lies hidden deep within

This glittering stone.

DEVIL (giving stone to SIMON). Take it! ‚tis thine! My blessing go with it.

LAINE, JOAN, and SIMON. Father, we thank thee! day hath dawned at last!

SIMON (exulting). Oh, wife, wife!

JOAN. Oh, good man! our child!

SIMON. Our child! (Rushing to LAINE.) To thy bed-chamber! Tear open thy bodice! (Pressing the stone into her hand.) Lay this upon thy poor breast! haste thee!

LAINE. Mother!

SIMON. Go!

He thrusts her from the room.

SIMON (embracing JOAN). Sweetheart!

JOAN (after a pause). Nay, good man, art certain we have done well?

SIMON. Wife?

JOAN. Something in this mislikes me. (Making for the door of LAINE‘s bed-chamber.) My child! DEVIL (intercepting her). Woman, what wouldst thou?

JOAN. Pardon, father, but this miraculous stone may bring ill upon us rather than good. Stand aloof, I prithee.

DEVIL. Meddle not.

JOAN. Nay, but what if others learn what ‚tis my girl carries upon her bosom?

DEVIL. Truly ‚tis an object to be carefully guarded. For in sooth beauty is a possession man delighteth in stealing from woman, woman from man. H‘m! yea, good people, you had best be discreet.

SIMON. And, father, I do bethink me – is this the only piece of beauty stone in mortal hands? DEVIL. It is, my son.

SIMON. How long hast had it in thy keeping?

DEVIL. Sith thou wast pretty to look upon, weaver.

SIMON. And never bestowed it till now?

DEVIL. Aye, often.

JOAN (clinging to SIMON). Hear him!

SIMON. Then how come it in thy pouch to-day?

DEVIL. H‘m, a sage question! I‘ll answer thee. In one odd fashion or another, this beauty stone, as thou hast dubbed it, hath always returned to my charge.

RECITATIVE. – DEVIL.

Since it dwelt in that rock whose hallowed crest Lies sunk in Orient sea, This stone it hath pressed full many a breast Of gallant and proud ladye. For all have sued for this glittering thing, And squire and lord and clown; Yea, once lay next the heart of a king Who counted it more than his crown!

SONG. – DEVIL.

I gave it away to a love-lorn maid Who wept, for her heart was free; And lo, when this stone in her breast was laid, She grew passing fair to see! And a knight rode by, and he knelt and prayed, „For thy beauty life were freely paid – Now what wilt thou give to me?“ „Sir Knight, I have naught!“ laughed she, „Sir Knight, I have naught for thee!“ But still at her feet, as he made his moan, From out her bosom she drew the stone; And that knight rode forth – but he rode alone, And he laughed, for his heart was free! And they buried a maiden all skin and bone; And so it befell, At the toll of the bell, This stone had come back to me. And anon it sped over sea and land, It journeyed o‘er land and sea, It hath lodged in many a fair maid‘s hand – Yet it ever comes back to me. Then it passed to a miser of grisly hue, With a beard that fell to his knee; And he cuddled his gold, yet he fain would woo A lady of high degree! And he laughed when he saw how fair he grew – Yet ever she sighed as he came to sue, „Nay, what wilt thou give to me?“ „Rich gems have I none,“ groaned he, „I have naught but my love for thee!“ And at night, as he lay and dreamed of gold, She drew from his gaberdine‘s innermost fold This glittering stone – and his heart grew cold; But she laughed, for her heart was free! And they buried a miser withered and old; And so it befell, At the toll of the bell, This stone had come back to me. And anon it sped over sea and land, It journeyed o‘er land and sea, It hath lodged in many a withered hand – Yet it always comes back to me.

As the DEVIL concludes his history of the stone, there is a faint cry from LAINE‘s room, and a low, distant rumble of thunder.

JOAN and SIMON (still clinging to each other). Holy Paul!

DEVIL (at the door leading to the alley – in a loud voice).

VOX QUIBUS DEUS BENEDIXIT BENEDICITE!

He disappears, as LAINE enters and stands before her parents, erect and wondrously beautiful. She has abandoned her little cap, and her hair, encircling her head like a glory, falls luxuriantly to her waist; and upon her arm she carries her useless crutch as though she were bearing a lily.

End of Scene 1.

Scene 2.

The Market-place of Mirlemont. On the left stands the town-hall approached by a flight of steps; and on the other side of the market-place, facing the town-hall, there is an inn, bearing the sign of the „Golden Head.“ From above the town-hall there runs a broad street; and on the right, in the distance, is the mouth of a narrow alley. There are other outlets from the market-place upon either side. The sun shines brilliantly.

Many of the townsfolk – men, women, and children – are already assembled; others join them, appearing from different directions; greetings are exchanged; the people gather in knots to discuss the merits of the candidates for the prize of beauty. A few soldiers mix with the crowd, flirting with the young women; the inn drives a good trade; there is continual movement and bustle. A body of pikemen are lounging about the steps of the town-hall, and in the doorway stand certain of the aldermen and office- holders of the town.

CHORUS.

MAIDENS. The bells are ringing o‘er Mirlemont town, Lord Philip rides forth on his way!

ALL. The bells are ringing o‘er Mirlemont town, Lord Philip rides forth on his way! From his saddle-bow hangs a rosebud crown, And a silver cord that shall girdle the gown Of her who is fairest to-day.

MAIDENS. Then tell us, ye burghers of Mirlemont town, Who is it that rules ye to-day?

MEN. Lord Philip, he rules o‘er burgher and clown; From his castle gate he comes riding down With his gallants in proud array.

MAIDENS. Sir Burghers, we tell ye nay, ‚Tis not to a gallant ye pray; Who rules ye now was never a lord, She needs no spear and she bears no sword Who wins with a smile or a frown, With soft eyes hazel or gray, With tresses golden or brown – ‚Tis Beauty that rules ye to-day, Ye Burghers of Mirlemont town!

ALL. With soft eyes hazel or gray, etc.

The Competitor crowned with lilies enters, with her supporters. They make for the inn, singing as they go.

COMPETITOR‘S FRIENDS. [8 sopranos]

MEN. If this indeed be Beauty‘s Queen –

MAIDENS. We say not so! We say not so!

MEN. Then every maiden lank and lean, With waxen cheek and eyes of green, May win that wreath of budding rose.

MAIDENS. In sooth ‚tis not of her we speak –

MEN. Then bid her go! Then bid her go! MAIDENS. Yet look again; for though her cheek Be all too white, that blush ye seek Hath fled to warm her ruddy nose!

ALL. Ha! ha! ha! ha!

Amidst jeers and laughter the Competitor and her friends go into the inn.

ENSEMBLE.

COMPETITOR‘S FRIENDS.

Maidens and men of Mirlemont town,

Hither we come at your call!

Ye have bidden the fairest, then needs must ye own

We bring ye the fairest of all!

CHORUS.

Welcome, ye strangers, to Mirlemont town,

Hither ye come at our call!

Ye have bidden the fairest, then needs must ye own

Ye bring not the fairest of all!

Then there is a hubbub, and PEPPIN, the dwarf, rushes in, flying in terror from JACQUELINE, who pursues him. They are followed by the mischievous lads and girls of the first scene. PEPPIN trips and falls, and JACQUELINE belabours him with the weaver‘s staff. He is rescued by the bystanders, as NICHOLAS DIRCKS, the burgomaster, enters from the „Golden Head.“

NICHOLAS. How now, rude people! Know ye not how to bear yourselves when at any moment ye may be within hearing of the lord Philip?

JACQ. Faith, if our behaviour liketh not the lord Philip, let him hie where Lord of Mirlemont should be at the hour of this telling – with his kith and kind at the tails of the Liege rebels.

NICHOLAS. Holy St. Bavon! what sedition is here?

A MATRONLY WOMAN. Worse than sedition, most honourable Burgomaster. Yon she-devil, saving your presence, hath cudgelled the poor dwarf till I doubt he hath a whole bone in‘s body.

PEPPIN howls; JACQUELINE cuffs him soundly.

NICHOLAS (to JACQUELINE). Peace, unmannerly wench!

JACQ. Sooth, I have but made the manikin pay the price for trying to buss Laine Limal, the weaver‘s crippled daughter, an hour agone.

NICHOLAS. Beshrew me, a pretty pass! Shall dwarven be denied the small privilege of saluting gallantly such females as are halt and hump-backed? Let heaven‘s afflicted herd together, an‘ we be merciful. Hence, trollop, lest I have thee whipped for inhumanity!

JACQ. Whip – ! whip me! nay, all Mirlemont could not do it!

NICHOLAS (to the bystanders). Stand aloof. I do espy the brave Guntran; I would speak with him.

Those attracted by the riot disperse.

GUNTRAN OF BEAUGRANT – grizzled and well on in years, but still upright and stalwart – appears on the steps of the town-hall.

NICHOLAS. God save thee, Sir Guntran!

GUNTRAN (with a grunt – descending the steps). Ugh! for what?

NICHOLAS. ‚Mongst other favours, for the witnessing of the glorious show of beauty that the lord Philip hath commanded. I have the maids mustered at this most respectable hostelry, the „Golden Head“ –

GUNTRAN. Ugh!

NICHOLAS. But the lord Philip! ‚tis well past the appointed time.

GUNTRAN. Was card-playing with the lady Saida and her demoiselles when I rode from the castle.

NICHOLAS. Alack!

GUNTRAN (contemptuously). Bid thy beauties sup milk, lest their skins shrink from fasting and delay.

NICHOLAS. Will do‘t.

He re-enters the inn. The DEVIL, dressed gaily in red, his habit fashioned in the Italian mode, comes from among the crowd and confronts GUNTRAN.

DEVIL. Heaven save you, sir!

GUNTRAN. Again! thou‘rt the second to utter that prayer within a dozen breaths. Heaven save you, sir, to pray for my salvation.

DEVIL. Amen. Sir Guntran of Beaugrant?

GUNTRAN. None other.

DEVIL. The right hand of the lord Philip of Mirlemont?

GUNTRAN. Nay, I would not dub myself so for as much wealth as poor soldier could dream. DEVIL. Why, prithee?

GUNTRAN. Because the right hand of the lord Philip is shamed.

DEVIL. Shamed!

GUNTRAN. Sir, it grasps no sword – (abruptly) but who art thou?

DEVIL (producing some letters). Antonio, Count of Foscano in Lombardy. I bear letters from those that love me, who commend me to all of high estate in Flanders. (Giving the letters to GUNTRAN.) I do desire you, present these to the Lord of Mirlemont.

GUNTRAN. That will I. What quest is thine, sir Count, in Flanders, in these troublous days? DEVIL. Pleasure, pleasure – naught but pleasure.

GUNTRAN. Ha! thou‘lt be welcome at Castle Mirlemont. DEVIL. Spoke with a most reproving frown, as becometh a man of war.

GUNTRAN. Nay, no such fellow am I, or I stood not here talking with thee. Age is in my bones; my time is past. For all, I am inclined to rust in Mirlemont no longer, but to follow my bent an‘ I cannot follow this lord‘s.

DEVIL. War is not to the taste of the Lord of Mirlemont, they whisper.

GUNTRAN. No, by St. Jude! and I that taught him arms, and have loved him as my own, live to say‘t!

DEVIL. H‘m! he is for lighter pastimes?

GUNTRAN. Ha!

DEVIL. And those – ? but we talk scandal.

GUNTRAN. The children babble it in Mirlemont. Sir, the mischief lies thus – the lord Philip hath an eye for beauty.

DEVIL. One were blind else. The world is so beautiful.

GUNTRAN. Aye, but it would seem there is naught so beautiful in the world as woman. Therefore he hath an eye for –

DEVIL. Women. Then the gossips speak sooth when they declare this Eastern lady whom he favourites to be most fair?

GUNTRAN. Nay, was – her day is waning. Why, look you, sir Count, these Orients keep not their bloom as do our Northern dames and demoiselles; and this she was renegade from Cephalonia when Philip of Mirlemont sailed thence in the train of the ransomed John of Nevers – and that‘s not yestere‘en.

DEVIL. Yet your lord delighteth in the lady Saida‘s company? GUNTRAN. Yea, till fresher flower perfumes the air. By the finger nails of St. Luke, I would they were all drowned! DEVIL. All – ? GUNTRAN. All women.

The town bell rings out merrily.

GUNTRAN (to the DEVIL). The cavalcade entereth the North Gate. Follow an‘ you will.

He re-enters the town-hall. The aldermen and officials also withdraw into the town-hall, followed by NICHOLAS DIRCKS, who comes out of the inn and bustles across the market-place. The pikemen shoulder their pikes and go off by the street which is above the town-hall. There is a general movement among the townspeople; the majority of them, as if eager to greet the procession, follow at the heels of the pikemen. The market-place is almost deserted.

DEVIL (to himself). And I was on the point of passing by the gates of this Mirlemont, deeming it but a dull hole! Yet within a trice I came upon a vastly interesting cripple; and now – ! Ho, I will have a pretty tangle here, ere I leave ‚em. One never knows! Why, I could spend a month in Mirlemont to advantage! (Coming face to face with JACQUELINE.) Holloa!

JACQ. Who are you?

DEVIL. A gentleman travelling for pleasures.

JACQ. Thy attire is not of our cut.

DEVIL. It was botched in Italy.

JACQ. And where were you botched?

DEVIL. H‘m! there or thereabouts.

JACQ. Italy is bright and warm, is‘t not?

DEVIL. Truly.

JACQ. How comfortable it must be to dwell in a place that is always warm!

DEVIL. It becomes monotonous.

JACQ (suspiciously). You call yourself a gentleman. (Shaking her head.) Pooh! I fear thou‘rt bragging.

DEVIL. What sign belies me?

JACQ. Thou wilt stand here chattering with a poor, mop-headed wench such as I.

DEVIL. A gentleman hath no false pride. Tell me, art content to be so low i‘ the world?

JACQ. Hugely.

DEVIL. Yet thou‘rt mightily ragged and skinny.

JACQ (laughing). Ha, ha, ha, ha! Because I will not do the work they put upon girls that are humble and parentless in these parts. Content! yea, am I not free to lie snug every day till the sun has taken the keen edge off the morning? Whatever I am sharp-set, will not Jorian, the baker, chuck me a loaf of bread? And as for sport, can I not run, leap, fight, with any big-boned lad o‘ the town?

DUET. – JACQUELINE and the DEVIL.

JACQUELINE. My name is crazy Jacqueline, I rule a rout that love not labour, Morn till e‘en I dance and sing, And though I neither toil nor spin, Yet, should I lack some simple thing, I sally forth and rob my neighbour! My castle is a musty stall In old Dame Clovis‘ empty stable; There on the straw my court I keep With a whiskered rat for seneschal, And a troop of mice to guard my sleep Till lazy sunbeams ‚gin to peep With a rosy face o‘er the topmost gable.

Then men may call me Ne‘er-do-Weel, And Rag-a-Bag, or Pick-and-Steal – So let them cry, I care not, I! For I can dance from morn till e‘en, And in my kingdom I am Queen!

DEVIL. Then, marry, come here and dance with me, Thy humour it liketh me well; There is room for a rogue like thee In the land where I chance to dwell! (aside.) For this is a truth I tell, Yet marvel how it should be – There be few that can dance and sing In that kingdom where I am King!

ENSEMBLE.

JACQUELINE. Then men may call me Ne‘er-do-Weel, etc. DEVIL. Then, marry, come here and dance with me, etc.

JACQUELINE. But idle folk have work to do – Pure mischief takes a world of brewing; Simple fools know naught of this, Yet true it is, and pity too, Things will not always go amiss If no one sees to man‘s undoing! And so o‘ nights, when all is still, I wander forth and weave a tangle; I milk the cows and leave them dry, Then draw the sluices from the mill, And when I‘ve set things all awry I laugh to hear the watchman‘s cry, As the city bells go jingle-jangle!

Then men may call me Ne‘er-do-Weel, And Rag-a-Bag, or Pick-and-Steal – I care not, I! Whate‘er they cry, For I can dance from morn till e‘en, And in my kingdom I am Queen!

DEVIL. Then, marry, come here and dance with me, For never a maid or man Was fit to be fellow with thee Since ever the world began! (aside.) Yet rede this riddle who can, And the answer I fain would see – How long would she dance and sing In that kingdom where I am King?

ENSEMBLE.

JACQUELINE. Then men may call me Ne‘er-do-Weel, etc. DEVIL. Then, marry, come here and dance with me, etc.

DANCE.

DEVIL. Ha, ha, ha! thou‘rt a merry one! JACQ. And, sooth, thou‘rt a right merry gentleman. DEVIL (smacking his lips). I like you. There‘s plenty of ripe mischief in ye! mischief! mischief! JACQ (wilfully). Mischief! ha, ha! I pray so. DEVIL. Pray so, do ye! H‘m! have half a mind to take thee. JACQ. Take me! (Going.) I wish you good morrow, sir gentleman. DEVIL (following her). Stay! Hast ever been in love? JACQ. Tuh! not I; nor shall. DEVIL. Ha! hast no fancy for men, eh? JACQ. Why, I hate ‚em, as such. DEVIL. That‘s right! that‘s capital! thou‘rt the playfellow for me! (Leading her back.) The direst mischief i‘ the world is done by the women that hate men. And I – I hate women. JACQ (releasing herself). So saith the baker, yet I keep my distance when I go for the bread. DEVIL. Ha, ha! nay, I say sooth – I do most cordially hate women, as such. Come nearer! (Wheedlingly.) Don‘t be frightened of a gentleman. JACQ (approaching him cautiously). What would you? DEVIL (looking into her face). Upon my travels I have often lacked a young, fresh companion to jest with. Wilt be my page, vixen? JACQ. I! I am no boy. DEVIL. Nor of the other sex, sith thou hatest men. Yea, thou shalt be my page. JACQ (endeavouring to avoid his gaze, faintly). Let me hence! prithee! DEVIL. Thou shalt lead an easy life, lazy-bones. Thou shalt lie late; eat and drink till thou‘rt surfeited. I will teach thee the lute – JACQ (in a tremble). What art thou? I – I fear thee!

He grips her arm.

JACQ. Ah – ! (Wincing.) Truly thou‘rt a gentleman, for labour hath not blunted thy nails. DEVIL. Go. At five on the great dial, rummage beneath the straw where thou sleepest; thou wilt find boy‘s attire. By sundown present thyself at the castle as the Count of Foscano‘s page. JACQ (humbly). Oh, pardon me, my lord – but folks do know me here as a mere girl. DEVIL. After thou hast knotted the ties of thy new shoon, look you into a mirror; thou‘lt not know thyself. (Playfully.) Shall call thee Jacques; (pinching her ear) mischievous little Jacques. Go. JACQ (leaving him, unsteadily – with a last effort). I will not obey thee. DEVIL (harshly). Wilt not! (Pointing towards the left.) The castle, at sundown!

She departs. He turns on his heel and enters the town-hall. The bells, silent upon JACQUELINE‘s singing, now ring out another peal. The populace troop back to the market-place. NICHOLAS DIRCKS comes from the town-hall in a great bustle. Servants bring a throne-chair and some smaller seats from the town-hall, and place them upon the ground in front of the steps.

NICHOLAS. Come, knaves! range your seats deftly, and begone. (To the crowd.) Stand aloof there, they that would not have heads cracked by the lord Philip‘s most gallant pikemen!

CHORUS.

The bells are ringing o‘er Mirlemont town, Lord Philip he waits in the hall, And before him they bear a rose-bud crown And a silver cord that shall girdle the gown Of her who is fairest of all!

Two trumpeters come from the town-hall, and, standing upon the steps, blow blasts from their trumpets. The pikemen follow and force the crowd back until there is a clear way between the town- hall and the inn. The aldermen reappear, accompanied by a page who carries the wreath of flowers and the silver girdle. Then comes PHILIP; he descends the steps, followed by SAIDA, GUNTRAN, the DEVIL, and by some knights and dames of his retinue. PHILIP, though not in his first youth, is young and handsome, but is moody, restless, and impatient. SAIDA is a dark, sinuous, woman with flashing eyes. Her beauty, still sumptuous and alluring, is touched by time. PHILIP drops languidly into the throne-chair. SAIDA sits at his elbow upon a lower seat, slightly behind him. The DEVIL stands near her. The trumpeters blow two more blasts.

NICHOLAS. Ho, Philip, Lord of Mirlemont, of Renaix, and of Acquelle! please Heaven and the Saints to grant thee long life! Lo you now! we, the Burgomaster, and the aldermen, and the office-holders of Mirlemont, have, at thy command, by proclamation, summoned hither the most personable females that do dwell within or without thy proper township. And truly these trusty eyne have ne‘er before been so feasted and regaled – PHILIP. Good Burgomaster, but these beauties wither whiles you discourse. SAIDA (to herself). Would they could! DEVIL (to SAIDA). Eh, madam? SAIDA. I spake not, sir. NICHOLAS (at the inn door). Will display them instantly. (Loudly.) Ho, beauties, come forth!

He enters the inn.

GUNTRAN (to PHILIP). Prithee be at ease; this cattle hath been well fed, waiting your presence. PHILIP (rising in anger). Peace, Guntran!

SAIDA (joining him as he paces to and fro). Guntran saith wisely – cattle. And must thou do thy branding, in sight of all!

PHILIP. Why, thy tongue is as rough as Guntran‘s. Come, sweet gossip! I tell thee ‚tis but wisdom to freshen the sense upon what this dull world holds of loveliness; the zest of life droops else. Therefore, an‘t will not pleasure thee, grudge me not the sight of this posse of simple maids with their sun-kissed faces and lips like the ripe fruit o‘ the earth.

SAIDA. The low-born wenches!

PHILIP. Nay, beauty maketh its own degree.

SAIDA (in his ear). Am I not beautiful enow for thee? Thou didst once swear so.

PHILIP. Truly. Yet, because a man wears a rare flower in‘s jerkin, shall he not glance at humbler blossoms by the wayside? SAIDA (intensely). My love, I cannot bear thee – to glance.

PHILIP. Tush! Paragon, what has thou to fear? Ah! cometh the show.

NICHOLAS returns, followed by the maidens competing for the prize of beauty.

PHILIP and SAIDA return to their places, while NICHOLAS busies himself in marshalling the competitors. Then, under his direction, certain of them advance, in turn, and pass before PHILIP.

SCENE. – SONGS OF THE COMPETITORS, and CHORUS.

NICHOLAS. Know ye all, both great and small, That, by lord Philip‘s sweet command, This day within our City wall By summons we have bidden all The fairest maidens in our land! Then note them well, for here they stand – Loyse, the fair, from St. Denis, And Isabeau from far Florennes, With Barbe who comes from Bovigny To feast the eyes of greedy men; And Gabrielle, the chosen maid From that sweet city, St. Hubert, And Colinette from Lenalede, Who counts herself the fairest there; With many more who fain would own Yon budding wreath and silver zone.

PHILIP. Peace! Let us be on, or ere the day be flown Our budding roses shall be overblown. NICHOLAS. Sir, by your leave! Sweet maid, I call on thee!

LOYSE. I am Loyse from St. Denis: Fairest there beyond compare, So men say.

CHORUS. So men say!

LOYSE. Yet their praise is naught to me, If to-day Philip, Lord of Mirlemont, deems another maid more fair. Thou alone canst tell me true, Thou canst answer yea or nay, Are mine eyes of that deep blue The rains of April grant to May; Shines my hair like ripened wheat; Can it be my red lips meet Like coral laid on ivory, Aye, and that my little feet Move so very daintily? For this and more do all men say, Men who dwell at St. Denis, Else I might not dare to pray That to-day Beauty‘s crown should fall on me.

CHORUS. And what if it be true that her eyes are softest blue, And her lips like winter berries shyly peeping through the snow, That she wears a smaller shoe than some other maidens do? Yet for all she is not fairest; therefore, prithee, let her go.

SAIDA. Aye, let her go! We waste the sunny hours Seeking a rose amid these wind-sown flowers.

PHILIP. Rise, little maid, for one and one alone Shall win the wreath of roses and wear this silver zone.

[In the vocal score, this number concludes here with the following chorus:]

CHORUS. Vainly on thy bended knee Thou shalt pray Here today Wreaths and crowns are not for thee. Haste away and get thee home to St. Denis, Haste, haste, haste, Where they count thee fair to see!

[The libretto continues on here, without the above chorus:]

NICHOLAS. Next, by your grace, in order as they go, I summon her men call proud Isabeau!

ISABEAU. In the hills beyond Florennes, Where the river grasses grow Soft and green – CHORUS. Soft and green!

ISABEAU. Once the shepherds from the glen Crowned me Queen! And when I knelt beside the stream, And saw this face that floated there – With lips like cherries dipped in cream, And laughing eyes and raven hair – I wondered not those shepherd men Had crowned me fairest in Florennes.

CHORUS. And in truth, if that be so, it is plain they do not grow The fairest maids in Flanders where those simple shepherds dwell; Or, perchance, for aught we know, it was very long ago When this maiden first discovered that she loved herself so well!

SAIDA. Nay, blame the guilty brook; ‚twere hard to scold her For deeming true what this false stream had told her.

DEVIL. Aye, yet henceforth each crone should warn her daughter, Truth lurks in wells but lies in running water.

PHILIP. Yea, many maids are fair, yet one is fairest; Enough for thee to win that shepherd‘s crown thou wearest.

NICHOLAS. In truth an ugly wench. Come hither, thou!

BARBE. I am Barbe of Bovigny, Where all other maidens say They wonder why –

CHORUS. They wonder why –

BARBE. My lover bid me come to day That I might try, Philip, Lord of Mirlemont, to win that rosy crown from thee. Yet while he kneels and sighs to me, „Love, for thy beauty I could die!“ I wonder why I may not bear that wreath away!

CHORUS. As to this we would reply, it is plain to every eye When he praised the maiden‘s beauty that his senses must have fled; And we fancy, by and by, she will weep and wonder why Men should choose to go a-wooing when they never think to wed.

PHILIP (holding up his hand). Rest! a pause! (To those seated around him, with a frown.) Say you?

SAIDA. Ha! (To the DEVIL.) Those from the alley or from the dyke-side – which are the more graceless, sir Count?

PHILIP (impatiently). What, are they not passable?

DEVIL. Sooth, sir, I have seen no girl yet, for her freckles.

The knights and the ladies laugh.

SAIDA. Yea, these raw-bones are for a winter‘s ever, when the candles smoulder and the wood flickers.

DEVIL. E‘en then such noses would cast most monstrous shadows.

Another laugh.

PHILIP (rising angrily). A truce! (To NICHOLAS.) Good Burgomaster, I trow our Flanders maids are richer in virtue than in beauty. Give them ten groats apiece, and set their ill-made faces homeward. I am a-weary.

NICHOLAS. Nay, I do entreat your lordship! In sooth the wenches are but a sorry batch, but ‚tis holiday and the folk are here to see thee bestow the wreath and girdle. This is to cheat them of their sport.

DEVIL (advancing to them). Sir, may I speak? I do propose, in pure merriment, that sith there is so little beauty to be gathered in Mirlemont we do ensample the town‘s ugliness. Ha, ha! I have perceived a most knavish dwarf i‘ the crowd.

NICHOLAS. ‚Tis Peppin; an excellent and loathsome dwarf.

DEVIL. Cry therefore an end to this mummery of beauty, and, for sport, let these honest folk witness the betrothal of this misbegotten little fellow to the uncomeliest maid in Mirlemont. Know you of a fit mate for the dwarf, sir Burgomaster?

NICHOLAS. Truly, do I – one Laine, daughter of the weaver Limal. Their house is in yonder foul alley. By St. Bavon, a choice notion!

PHILIP (to the DEVIL). What! I rode hither to find beauty, and you would make me an instrument in the breeding of monsters.

DEVIL. Ha, ha, ha! for a jest! a jest!

PHILIP. Play out the time then in this grisly fashion, an‘ you list. (To NICHOLAS.) Give the dwarf‘s mate fifty – an hundred groats, for portion, (impatiently) and let me to horse.

PHILIP joins SAIDA, who claps her hands delightedly.

DEVIL (following PHILIP). Use despatch, sir Burgomaster. NICHOLAS (to the populace). Ho, worthy people of Mirlemont! the lord Philip doth declare these maids to be of beauty so equal that no one of them may lay her claim to the wreath and girdle offered for prize.

There is a murmur of discontent from the crowd.

NICHOLAS. Hold your peace till you have heard! The Lord of Mirlemont doth graciously bestow upon each and every maid the sum of ten groats.

A murmur of approval.

NICHOLAS. And further, that ye shall not be defrauded of your full sport, the lord Philip, out of the lightness of his heart, doth grant an hundred groats for portion unto the maid, whomsoe‘er ye shall deem her to be, that is the ugliest in all Mirlemont, commanding her to appear before him on the instant, and to make her vows of betrothal here in your presence, with the dwarf Peppin Swertz.

Cries of satisfaction and delight.

NICHOLAS. Come forward, Peppin, thou most unsightly knave.

PEPPIN is pushed forward; he makes his obeisance to PHILIP. From the crowd there is a murmur, gathering in force till it becomes a shout, of „Laine! Laine! Laine Limal!“

NICHOLAS. Beshrew me, but you follow mine own thought! The weaver‘s cripple! Laine Limal!

A party of men and girls rush up the alley. Some one in the crowd gives PEPPIN a wreath of coarse blooms with which he struts about in grotesque preparation for the meeting with his betrothed.

FINALE OF ACT I.

CHORUS. Go, bring forth old Simon‘s daughter! (pointing to PEPPIN.) Here‘s a lord who counts her fair; Long in wedlock he hath sought her, And would crown her golden hair With this garland he hath wrought her Out of gems most rich and rare! Faith, a gallant knight we‘ve brought her; Come then, greet the happy pair!

From the alley comes LAINE, transcendently beautiful, as at the end of the previous scene. The men and girls follow wonderingly.

PHILIP (rising from his chair in amazement and admiration.) By Our Lady, she is fair!

CHORUS. What is this? Nay, look again! It is! and yet it cannot be! P

HILIP. Angel face without a stain, Eyes that muse in ecstacy!

CHORUS. Away! we sought the cripple Laine! Nay, look again, for this is she!

PHILIP. Sweet, wondering maid, if thou wilt deign To take thy crown, it waits for thee!

NICHOLAS. Where then hath fled that hump upon her shoulder, If this be Laine?

PHILIP. Nay, whence have come those tresses that enfold her, Like golden rain?

NICHOLAS. Her hollow eyes were dim, her wan cheek whiter Than frozen snow!

PHILIP. Lips like a rose-red flower, those eyes are brighter Than earth can show.

SAIDA (to PHILIP). Ah, let her not lure thee on! Oh, turn thine eyes away, Let her not lure thee on; Though fair she seems to-day, Bid her begone! For how can beauty stay Where all was foul before? Then turn thine eyes away, And gaze no more!

ENSEMBLE. PHILIP. SAIDA and CHORUS.

Was ever sprite or fay Oh, turn thine eyes away, So fair to look upon? Let not her lure thee on; Shall beauty hold its sway Though fair she seems to-day, When thou art gone? Bid her begone! Then lift thine eyes and say, For how can beauty stay Wooed from what faery shore, Where all was foul before? Thy feet have found their way Then turn thine eyes away, To earth once more. And gaze no more!

SAIDA. In vain ye plead, some magic spell enthralls him!

GUNTRAN. Aye, ‚tis in vain! he will not heed your cry!

DEVIL. What if it be the Devil‘s voice that calls him!

SAIDA. Yea, ‚tis a witch he worships! Let her die!

CHORUS. A witch, a witch! Beware, beware! Round about her draw not nigh! Bind her! burn her! Have a care, For see, she hath the evil eye! A witch, a witch! Beware, beware! Or on a broomstick she may fly Up and up and through the air! A witch, a witch! then let her die!

They circle her, advancing and retreating with alternating rage and fear. In the end they fall upon her and seize her, as JOAN and SIMON force their way through the crowd. LAINE rushes to her mother in terror.

JOAN. What would ye do? Lord Philip, spare, oh, spare her!

SIMON. Wretches! ye knew her well an hour ago!

JOAN. What though her poor, wan cheek be now grown fairer, ‚Tis Heaven‘s sweet miracle hath made her so.

SIMON. Yea, Heaven hath made her fair, then wherefore fear her? This is no witch ye look upon to-day.

JOAN. Down on thy knees! Sweet lord, we prithee hear her!

PHILIP. Stand back, ye knaves, and thou, sweet maid, draw nearer! Whence came thy wondrous beauty, speak and say!

LAINE. I can but tell I knelt and prayed To Her who hearkens when we cry, „Mother, as Thou wert once a maid, Oh, let me love, or bid me die!“ Still I was crooked, halt, and lame And knew not then she heard my prayer, But now I know, for, lo, there came A holy man who made me fair.

PHILIP. Enough, enough! ye have but to behold her! Nay, scan her well and tell me, if ye dare, What devil‘s art or witch‘s wile could mould her There where she stands the fairest of the fair?

When the rose-leaf lies on the dew, do we ask if it fell from the rose? If honey be sweet on our lips, know we not it was stored by the bee? When the wind blows salt in our teeth, do we wonder from whither it blows? Nay, though the shore be afar, yet we know that it comes from the sea!

CHORUS. When the rose-leaf lies on the dew, etc.

PHILIP. Sweet maid, Heaven too lies afar, yet we know that from Heaven alone Come those lips that an angel hath kissed, and those eyes with the light of a star!

ALL. Though with roses we crown thee to-day, and girdle thee round with a zone, Is there aught that shall bind thee to earth whose home lies beyond and afar?

PHILIP, having crowned LAINE with the wreath of rose-buds, clasps the silver girdle about her waist as the curtain falls.

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

Scene 1.

A hall in Castle Mirlemont. At the back is a wide doorway. The doors are open, and beyond there is an arcade, and through the arches of the arcade the moonlit sky is seen. On the left of the apartment there is a window; on the right an alcove, in which stands a throne-chair. Upon the wall above the throne-chair a sword and other weapons are hung. Near the throne-chair stands a table, with benches ranged around it. Jugs and goblets are on the table, and dice and playing-cards. There are additional entrances to the apartment on either side. The hall is lighted by quaintly devised lamps.

Seated at the head of the table, PHILIP is playing cards with a party of Knights and Ladies who are gathered around the board. The knights are youthful and dissolute-looking; their dames light and frivolous. The DEVIL stands by PHILIP‘s side, advising in the conduct of the game. Afar off, by the window, SAIDA sits, watching PHILIP with eyes aflame with hungry jealousy. Other knights and ladies are seen in the arcade, walking in the moonlight.

CHORUS of KNIGHTS and DAMES.

With cards and dance, and with wine and laughter, And a leaven of love, if love be light, We care not a jot what may come hereafter So love and laughter be ours to-night! Then scatter the cards as we fill the cup; Though the sun be down, and the moon be up; Our day doth only begin! For the coming of night is the dawn of day; Yet tell us, we pray What card to play, And where is the card shall win?

KNIGHTS. Honour and fame, and the lust of battle, We yield them freely to sturdier lords; DAMES. Though the coin shall clink and the dice shall rattle When honour and fame are but empty words.

ALL. Then scatter the cards as we drain the cup; Though the sun be down, and the moon be up, Our day doth only begin! For the coming of night is the dawn of day; Yet, if as ye say, ‚Tis a Heart to play, Then where is the heart shall win?

SAIDA rises and slowly approaches PHILIP. She is about to lay her hand upon his arm enticingly, when a white-haired SENESCHAL appears, entering from the left.

SENES. My lord –

PHILIP (rising, eagerly). What! is she come?

SENES. The weaver‘s daughter, my lord?

PHILIP. Aye, and no worse for being daughter to a weaver.

SENES. My lord, the maid entered the castle an hour agone.

PHILIP. By St. Paul! think ye she is commanded hither to be so slighted? Is it not fit that her name should be called aloud by thee?

SENES. Truly, my lord, but thou didst charge the women to apparel this maid becomingly, and fingers are but fingers, ply as busily as they may.

PHILIP (turning away). I had forgot.

SENES (following him). My lord, I broke in upon the game to tell thee the gallant Sir Baldwyn of Ath is arrived.

PHILIP (impatiently). See him rested and refreshed.

SENES. Nay, he rideth in hot haste as herald summoning all valiant men to Maestricht, to the standard of Duke John of Burgundy.

PHILIP. Bid him ride on then. And summon thou the weaver‘s daughter. My patience is out.

He resumes his game at the table as GUNTRAN and BALDWYN – the latter disordered and travel-stained – enter from the left. The SENESCHAL receives BALDWYN, and they talk together.

SAIDA (aside to GUNTRAN, in bitter mockery). Nay, Guntran, if my lord Philip is to set forth to Maestricht, ‚tis a stout horse will be needed for the burden methinks.

GUNTRAN. So?

SAIDA. Yea, I promise you he will not budge unless a certain bold wench rides pillion behind him. GUNTRAN (in her ear). Why, madam, art thou for Maestricht.

SAIDA (with clenched hands). Thou knowest I speak of the weaver‘s daughter.

GUNTRAN. H‘m! she would ride lighter than thou by a dozen years.

SAIDA. Ah! how I hate thee!

She leaves him and returns to her seat by the window.

GUNTRAN (in a loud voice). Sir Baldwyn of Ath.

PHILIP (rising). He is welcome. (To the card-players.) Give me leave.

The card-players move away and join the knights and ladies in the arcade. The DEVIL alone remains, perching himself upon the table and laying out the cards in a circle. The SENESCHAL withdraws.

BALDWYN. Philip, lord of Mirlemont, our lord the Duke of Burgundy lies with his host tonight at Flourines. On the morrow he rides straightway to Maestricht, where, as thou know‘st, the good Bishop is besieged by the accursed rebel-rout from Liege.

PHILIP. Well, sir?

BALDWYN. Sir, the Duke doth enjoin all those of authority that are not yet under his banner to set out at dawn with their retinues, and such followers as they can levy, for Maestricht. The lords of Sirault, of Velaines, and St. Sauveur are already hitherward, and I pray that they may lie here tonight within the castle of Mirlemont.

PHILIP. They are not less welcome than thyself.

BALDWYN. Another word. Remembering the gallant days of thy youth, when thou didst face with him the Paynim hordes, the Duke would know thee still for one of spirit and valour. Come, lord, wilt not bear thine own answer to Duke John?

PHILIP. Nay.

GUNTRAN. Say‘st thou?

PHILIP. Carry thou my answer, Baldwyn of Ath. I am a man of peace in these days, not of war. GUNTRAN. Now would I were deaf!

PHILIP. I say I would not have our fair land made sore and ugly by the waste of battle. By Heaven and St. Bavon, I cry Peace – peace that shall scatter with untiring hands the seeds of beauty.

GUNTRAN (an imprecation). Beauty! beauty!

PHILIP. Aye, Guntran, ‚tis my watchword – Peace and Beauty! Look that Sir Baldwyn be well tended. (Turning away.) The minstrels! Strike the lutes!

He joins his knights and the ladies under the arcade.

BALDWYN. And this was a brave man, that now pillows his head upon rose-leaves! To horse!

He goes out quickly, on the left, followed by G

UNTRAN. From the arcade comes the sound of the lutes.

DEVIL (to himself). Beauty! beauty, beauty, beauty!

JACQUELINE, gaily and prettily attired as a boy, enters, a little unsteadily, with strut and swagger.

DEVIL (steadying her). What, my little Jacques! Hast supped, eh?

JACQ. Supped! oh, right well, master!

DEVIL. Are the meats rich?

JACQ. Rich – and plenty.

DEVIL. And the wine?

JACQ. Why, there is a fountain of burgundy that plays in the dining-hall; it sends up jets of rubies. I did dip my cup into its basin and drink my fill. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

DEVIL (slapping her on the shoulder). Ha, ha, ha!

SAIDA (coming to JACQUELINE). Boy.

JACQ (bowing low). My duty, madam.

SAIDA (stroking JACQUELINE‘s head). Pretty boy. (To the DEVIL). Have I your leave?

DEVIL (bowing). Sweet lady!

SAIDA (to JACQUELINE). Boy, go you to my women. Bid them do on their dancing shoon, and to assemble upon the terrace. For to-night we dance before the lord Philip.

JACQ. Dance! oh, beautiful lady!

SAIDA. Hence!

JACQUELINE runs out, on the right.

DEVIL. Dance, madam?

SAIDA. Aye, good friend – for so thou hast professed thyself.

DEVIL. And truly.

SAIDA. Dance! dance! dance! ‚twas thus I first gained my lord‘s favour.

DEVIL. And ‚tis thus thou wilt regain him, doubtless. Thy ripe charms against this shoot of maidenhood, hey? To it, madam, to it!

SAIDA (sinking on to a seat). Nay, but of late my limbs have lost some of their suppleness, I ween. Oh!

DEVIL (beside her). ‚Tis hard. Such a common girl!

SAIDA. Who to-day was a cripple, the jeer of the town.

DEVIL. These miracles! they put one out of reckoning.

SAIDA. She shall yet be burnt for a witch. Will show thee that sport in Mirlemont, sir Count. Burnt!

DEVIL (shaking his head sadly). Nay, ‚twould be no novelty. I‘ve seen so much o‘ that sort o‘ thing in my time. Natheless I do marvel, like thyself, whether ‚tis holy miracle or naughty charm that hath wrought this strange transformation.

SAIDA. I swear ‚tis a devil‘s charm brewed by the weaver‘s hag-wife.

DEVIL. Sooth, I fear so.

SAIDA (rising and pacing the apartment). Therefore shall they be burnt – the daughter, and all her folk to boot.

DEVIL. What! and their secret with ‚em?

SAIDA (pausing). Why, ‚tis likely.

DEVIL. Tush! thou must play more cunningly. Dear lady, if the Devil be i‘ the bounteous mood, I counsel thee to put aside thy pious distaste for his doings.

SAIDA. That would I, to be as lovely as this maid; and once again as fresh, to my lord‘s eye. DEVIL. Come then! if charm there be in all this, ‚tis thou must possess the mystery.

SAIDA. Wilt aid me?

DEVIL. Yea, or any distressful dame.

SAIDA. I thank thee, sir Count. An‘ if I fail to wrest the secret from the weaver‘s daughter, I will kill myself ere my lord shall miss the glow of summer from my cheeks.

The tinkling of the lutes ceases.

DEVIL. Nay, be hopeful.

SAIDA. Aye, and light o‘ foot. To-night will I keep sway without help o‘ the devil! The dance!

PHILIP returns, and the knights and ladies are seen gathered in the arcade.

PHILIP. Saida, what do thy women here?

SAIDA (caressingly, in his ear). Sweetheart, I have bethought me – while this pretty guest is attiring, I will dance before thee, to stay our impatience.

PHILIP. ‚Tis a good thought. (To the knights and dames.) The lady Saida dances, to pleasure us.

He seats himself upon the throne-chair, but with a heavy brow. The knights and ladies dispose themselves about the apartment.

SAIDA claps her hands, and her women appear, entering from the arcade. They make her ready for the dance. The minstrels assemble without the doorway. The

DEVIL steals away, and presently is seen among the minstrels, a red light from a lamp falling upon his face. He takes a lute from one of the players and thumbs it with the rest.

JACQUELINE joins him, standing by his side.

CHORUS of KNIGHTS and DAMES. sung in a fashion to suggest a series of hushed asides.

Though she should dance Till dawn of day, ‚Twere all for naught; For if perchance His eyes should stray And find her there, They would but glance And turn away; For all his thought Is otherwhere! Yea, though her feet Should prove as fleet As is the wind, ‚Twere all in vain; They know no art Whereby to find To Philip‘s heart Their way again! Then she should dance Till dawn of day, He will not care; He heeds her not, He needs her not, He hath forgot If she be fair!

SONG. – SAIDA; CHORUS of KNIGHTS and DAMES and of EASTERN MAIDENS [8 sopranos]; and DANCE.

SAIDA. Safe in her island home, whose sloping glades Lean sun-ward till they kissed the eastern main, Happy she dwelt a maid amidst her maids, Who knowing naught of love knew naught of pain; Till, westward steering, came those knights unbidden, Sea-worn, and weary of the clang of war, And one there was beneath whose helm lay hidden A face she knew, yet knew not, from afar. For round about her ere he came – Aye, ere his feet had pressed the sand – The woodland blossoms turned to flame, And Love was lord of all the land Till dawned that day his sail was set, And all his thoughts were sea-ward turned, And one there was remembered yet What love had taught and love had learned; One heart that knew not how to stay If Love were fain to flee away.

KNIGHTS. Why, it is of herself that she sings, For she followed him so, as we know;

EASTERN MAIDENS. We are dreaming, we are dreaming of that little island valley, Where, beneath the silver olives, at the ending of the day,

ENSEMBLE.

EASTERN MAIDENS

Swaying gently to the music, as they thread

each winding alley,

Comes a troop of laughing maidens

dancing downward to the bay!

KNIGHTS and DAMES.

And his was the love that found wings!

Nay, hath it not ever been so?

SAIDA. South blows the wind as the veil of night is falling, Warm is the wind that is blowing from the South; Far in the bay she can hear the sailors calling, Warm lies the breath of his kisses on her mouth; South blows the wind, yet northward they are steering, Love leaps aboard and the North and South are one; Lo, the stars are darkened, and the bitter gale is veering, Bleak and cold and drear lies the shore they are nearing; Woe is the day when he bore her from the sun!

Love lies not here; he hath fled, and we would follow Where the sapphire sea is breaking in a ring of silver foam; Southward speeds his barque, for his pilot is the swallow – Love! could we but follow, thou wouldst lead us safely home! North blows the wind; once again the gale is shifting, The wrack of heaven stands open, and the night is past and done; North blows the wind, yet southward we are drifting; The rosy day is dawning, and the sullen clouds are lifting; North blows the wind that shall bear us to the sun!

ENSEMBLE.

EASTERN MAIDENS.

Love lies not here; he hath fled, and we would follow

Where the sapphire sea is breaking in a

ring of silver foam;

Southward speeds his barque, for his pilot is the swallow –

Love! could we but follow, thou

wouldst lead us safely home!

KNIGHTS and DAMES.

Why stays she here? Love hath fled, he will not follow,

For his heart hath found a haven and

no longer needs to roam;

Southward she may sail, flying southward with the swallow –

Lord Philip will not follow, for his love

lies nearer home.

Gradually PHILIP is half-recaptured by the allurement of the song and dance. His eyes dwell upon SAIDA tenderly, and at last he rises as if about to embrace her. At that moment the SENESCHAL enters, on the left.

SENESCHAL. The demoiselle Laine Limal.

LAINE enters, richly but chastely attired, and stands in the centre of the apartment modestly and wonderingly.

PHILIP, entranced, moves towards her;

SAIDA falls back in rage and despair.

KNIGHTS. Nay, see ye not this maid is fair? What wonder then he finds her so!

DAMES. Yet, little maid, beware! beware! For love will come and love will go!

KNIGHTS. That angel smile, those wondering eyes, Were never fashioned here below!

DAMES. Yet, little maid, be wise! be wise! For love will come and love will go!

PHILIP. Sir Knights and Dames, now grant me, by your leave, That I may speak with this sweet demoiselle.

KNIGHTS and DAMES. Though Philip‘s heart she may beguile, And wear the lady Saida‘s shoes, She cannot choose but she must lose The glory of that angel smile! Yea, well we know ‚twas ever so, For love will come and love will go!

All withdraw except SAIDA and the DEVIL, and they remain, under the arcade, watching.

PHILIP (never removing his eyes from LAINE‘s face). Thou hast tarried long.

LAINE. They did delay me, to make me fit to appear before thee. My lord –

PHILIP. Sayest thou?

LAINE. I do thank thee for thy goodness to a poor maid.

PHILIP. Poor! nay, thy perfect loveliness maketh thee vastly rich.

LAINE (passing her hand over her face). Ah! and yet this morning I was ugly and most despised. PHILIP (incredulously). ‚Tis so reported.

LAINE. ‚Tis very sooth, my lord – until the holy man wrought this miracle.

PHILIP. How wrought he the miracle?

LAINE. My lord, I may not tell. My mother and father have forbade me strictly to say aught save that ‚twas in answer to a prayer to Our Lady.

DEVIL (to SAIDA). Heard you that?

SAIDA (to him). Aye.

They move away.

PHILIP (to LAINE). No matter – sith thou art as thou art. (Pointing to a seat.) Sit ye down.

LAINE. Not whiles you stand, my lord.

PHILIP. Nay, then.

They sit.

PHILIP. Demoiselle, know you that the lady Catherine of Ninove, who dwells within this castle, will take you as a playfellow for her daughter Blanche, an‘ thou‘rt willing.

LAINE. Oh, I am not suitable.

PHILIP (sternly). I do bid thee to do this.

LAINE (her eyes drooping before his). My lord – !

PHILIP. For, in very deed, I desire to gaze at thee with but little intermission day by day.

LAINE (wonderingly). Why, my lord?

PHILIP. Because thou art the ripe fulfilment of all my dreams of beauty.

LAINE (clasping her hands). Holy Mother, what if Thou hast made me over-beautiful! (To him.) My lord, such comeliness as I possess thou hast now seen and noted. PHILIP. Truly, I see thee; yet I cannot see thee. Thy splendour turneth the air about thee into a mist. Therefore it behoves me to look on thee constantly, that custom may grave thy features upon my memory.

LAINE (in a low voice). That is strange. Why, my lord, when I had glimpse of thy face but once – it seemeth years agone – and thou wert riding right swiftly through the streets –

PHILIP (eagerly). Aye? then – then – ?

LAINE (abashed). Oh, pardon me.

PHILIP (drawing nearer to her). What, have radiant dreams sought thee out also?

LAINE (faintly). Our alley is too narrow, my lord.

PHILIP. A good answer, little heart! Yet not so narrow but Philip of Mirlemont hath strayed thither, in thy sleep?

LAINE (attempting to rise). Oh, my lord!

PHILIP (detaining her). Speak!

LAINE (helplessly). My lord, I am still but a weaver‘s daughter!

DUET. – LAINE and PHILIP.

PHILIP. I love thee! I love thee!

LAINE. Nay, nay, thou lov‘st me not!

PHILIP. Dost thou not hear? I love thee!

LAINE. My lord, thou hast forgot Thou couldst not give me all, For, ah! full well I know That thy fond glance doth fall On one set high above me; Then prithee let me go!

PHILIP. ‚Tis false! my heart is free! Yon Heav‘n may hear my vow – I ne‘er have loved but thee, I knew not love till now!

LAINE. Ah, no, it may not be! Thou art too high, too great; I am not fit to mate With one like thee!

PHILIP. Yet Beauty‘s star doth shine Above all earthly state; It makes the lowliest great – Aye, and it makes thee mine!

LAINE. I too had seen a star; And now, ah, now I know That shining star was Love!

PHILIP. For here my life‘s long quest To find the loveliest Doth end, sweet love, in thee – Ever in love for thee!

ENSEMBLE. LAINE. PHILIP. For here, upon my breast, For here my life‘s long quest My heart hath found its rest, To find the loveliest Dear lord, in love for thee – Doth end, sweet love, in thee- In thee, In thee, For ever! For ever!

From the arcade comes the sound of boisterous, mocking laughter. The DEVIL appears in the arcade with SAIDA.

DEVIL (as he enters, to those who are out of sight). Nay, nay, sirs! prithee spare them.

PHILIP (to the DEVIL). What‘s toward?

DEVIL (coming into the apartment). Sir, thy good gentlemen, in carelessness of spirit, do make jest of an aged couple here.

SAIDA (entering the apartment). Why, ‚tis the weaver and his dame.

JOAN and SIMON enter from the arcade, resisting two attendant who attempt to put them back.

LAINE (running to meet them). Ah!

SIMON (to PHILIP). Lord, we do entreat thee –

JOAN. We came hither with our daughter, and are mocked at by gentlemen, and served like thieves by these varlets. PHILIP (to the attendants). Begone!

The attendants withdraw.

PHILIP (to JOAN and SIMON). What would you?

SIMON. Naught but wait upon our child wherewhither she goes.

LAINE (to PHILIP). My lord, thou seest how ‚tis. My father and mother are but poorly clad, which seemeth to render them food for laughter. I do pray that they too may be given fitting raiment, even as I, so that we may all dwell in the castle without being shamed.

JOAN and SIMON. Dwell i‘ the castle!

LAINE (embracing them joyfully). Yea, mother; yea, father; you and I!

LAINE talks to JOAN and SIMON apart. The DEVIL suddenly appears at PHILIP‘s elbow.

DEVIL. Ha, ha, ha!

PHILIP (to the DEVIL). Sir, thy mirth is unwelcome.

DEVIL. Nay, sir, I am most sympathetic. For truly I perceive what vexation is here.

PHILIP (heavily). I am not vexed.

DEVIL. Not now, sir – when thou art merry. Yet I vow ‚twould anger me to see my kitten mewling after such a tom and tabby.

PHILIP (eyeing LAINE askance). Sooth, ‚tis a fair flower to twine about so rank and common a bush.

DEVIL. Let not thine eyes be reminded of it. Come, sir, shall I aid thee in this business?

PHILIP. Thou?

DEVIL. Wilt give me leave to dispose of these unsightly folk, to their comfort and thine own? PHILIP. What, with thy purse? DEVIL. I know not the plan, till I have argument with them. But wilt give me leave? PHILIP. Nay – nay – DEVIL (persuasively). Be counselled. Ugh, how they tumble her! PHILIP (guiltily). Yea, then; as you list.

He turns away, and sits upon the throne-chair with his head bowed.

DEVIL (to SIMON and JOAN). Come, weaver; hither, good dame. The lord Philip doth graciously charge me with the care of you. Follow me, most worthy people.

JOAN and SIMON (bowing low to PHILIP). We thank you.

LAINE (embracing them again). Oh, mother! father! (In their ears.) Sweethearts, will steal back with you to the alley to-morrow and help break the loom into a thousand pieces.

DEVIL (impatiently). Come, come, come!

The DEVIL takes SIMON and JOAN away, on the left.

LAINE (kneeling before PHILIP). My lord –

PHILIP (harshly). Sayest thou?

LAINE. My heart doth ache with very joy. (Bending over his feet.) Oh, my lord, my lord, my lord!

There is a distant sound of a blast of trumpets.

PHILIP (starting to his feet remorsefully). Ha!

GUNTRAN enters quickly from the arcade. He and PHILIP talk together in low voces.

GUNTRAN (to PHILIP). Hearest thou that?

PHILIP. Guntran – ?

GUNTRAN. Thy guests approach.

PHILIP. Guests?

GUNTRAN. Those that have leave to lie here to-night, that set out at dawn to join with Duke John and William of Hainault at Flourines.

PHILIP. Aye?

GUNTRAN. Aye! Wilt not go forth but a few steps to cry a welcome to these brave and true lords? PHILIP (his head averted). See them and their following fitly honoured. (Sitting at the table.) I have no words for them.

There is another, but less distant, blast of trumpets. The DEVIL re-enters lightly, and whispers to SAIDA, who is by the window. Whereupon she throws open one of the casements and looks out eagerly. Then the DEVIL beckons to LAINE, who has been standing by the throne-chair, and presents her to SAIDA.

GUNTRAN (to PHILIP). Thou hast no words for them! yet are they to be fitly honoured! Ugh, but thou‘rt in the right, for these comers should be welcomed by one as gallant as they.

PHILIP. Peace, Guntran, lest I forget thy hold upon my heart.

GUNTRAN. Nay, prithee forget that too, that I may forget the love I once had for thee.

PHILIP (seeing the DEVIL and calling to him loudly). Count of Foscano! the game again! come, sir!

The DEVIL joins PHILIP at the table as the trumpets sound once more.

GUNTRAN (to PHILIP). Hark! they are nearer.

PHILIP. Peace, I say. (To the DEVIL – playing cards.) Sir Count

GUNTRAN paces the apartment in rage and despair.

DEVIL (to PHILIP, in a whisper). Sir, a word. Be at thine ease; thou art rid of them.

PHILIP. What mean you? DEVIL. The weaver and his wife.

PHILIP. Ah? the manner of their going? DEVIL. E‘en now they are being driven out by your varlets. PHILIP. Why, sir, I did not charge thee so far.

DEVIL. Nay, sir, not you – (close to PHILIP) but I am apt at the reading of men‘s thoughts.

SAIDA (suddenly, to LAINE, drawing her to the window). Look! look!

LAINE (looking out). My mother and father!

SAIDA. Look still!

LAINE. Oh – ! there is one that strikes at them with a cudgel! Ah – !

SAIDA (gripping her arm tightly, and hissing into her ear). Yea, they are sent forth with blows. Now thou know‘st thyself, know‘st what thou hast become! Fool, to expect aught else from thy lord! thy lord, forsooth! thy lord!

The trumpet sounds finally, near at hand.

GUNTRAN (approaching PHILIP). They are without. Wilt not greet them?

PHILIP (to GUNTRAN). I am busily employed. (To the DEVIL.) Deuce-ace!

GUNTRAN (vehemently). Nay then, play out the night till bed- time with thy new-fangled, painted pictures – devil‘s playthings – !

DEVIL. Ha, ha, ha!

GUNTRAN. I‘ll to these lords and tell them how ‚tis with thee!

SCENE.

SONG. – GUNTRAN.

I‘ll tell them what thou wast when first I knew thee; A stripling boy in deeds of valour nursed, Ere yet this plague of beauty came and slew thee And left the thing thou art – accurst! accurst! Aye, slew thee! for ‚tis beauty hath bereft us Of all we loved, and he that fills thy place – This craven knight the ruined years have left us – Bears but the waxen image of thy face! Yea, Philip, for thy soul is dead That made thee once fit mate for men, As steadfast midst the rout that fled Thy sword withstood the Saracen! ‚Twas there I knew thee, loved thee, first! Behold thee now – accurst! accurst!

‚Twas not enough thy youth should waste and wither Beneath yon Eastern wanton‘s blighting spell; Nay, though her charm be spent, yet now comes hither This flaxen toy to lure thy soul to hell! Whate‘er was left of manhood when she found thee – Ah, none can say from whence her beauty came! – Is hers to win; her arms shall wind around thee, And hers the honeyed kiss shall end thy shame! Then take the poison from her lips, But few short hours are left to thee; Yea, for thy heart‘s blood drains and drips, And Time draws near to claim his fee. Go fan ye passion‘s lingering flame, Or love himself shall cry thee shame!

GUNTRAN goes out, on the left.

PHILIP (to the DEVIL, who has been holding him back). Release me! Shame! My sword! my sword! He may not love that spake that word!

LAINE. Ah! let me hence! DEVIL (releasing PHILIP). Heed not what this poor dotard cries; ‚Tis naught to thee – thou hast Love‘s prize!

LAINE. Let me go hence!

SAIDA (in scorn). Yet see those angel eyes are wet With scalding tears!

PHILIP (to LAINE). Weep not, thy heart shalt soon forget These passing fears!

LAINE. Nay, let me go! I must! I must! My heart is stricken to the dust, Each word as with a javelin thrust Did pierce it through!

PHILIP. Thou shalt not go. I‘ll hear no more; I hold thee close! Shut fast the door! LAINE. What wouldst thou do?

The DEVIL goes into the arcade and gives orders. The doors admitting to the arcade are shut by attendants; and, one by one, other doors re heard to close with a clang and rattle.

LAINE. Nay, wert thou more than all he said thou art, Yet even so, Some pity lingering in thy fallen heart Would bid me go! What have I done? If love were my offence, That love is slain; It cannot hurt thee more, then let me hence Or end my pain! Aye, kill me! or should beauty prove my fault, I‘ll pray to Heaven to make this body halt And lame again, So thou wilt let me go from whence I came, And hide my head! Thou wilt not? Then I too do cry thee shame! ‚Twas sooth he said – This is some other lord that bears thy name; And thou art dead!

PHILIP. I prithee peace! Let be! Let be! Go, take thy way! For thou art free!

The doors are opened at his command and LAINE runs out, leaving PHILIP overcome with remorse. When she has gone he sinks upon a seat and bows his head upon the table despairingly.

SAIDA (to the DEVIL). She‘s gone! my power returns at last!

DEVIL (restraining her). Not yet! not yet! The memory of her holds him fast

SAIDA. He shall forget. (to PHILIP). Nay, grieve not; in a little while Thine eyes shall gaze on that sweet isle Where first we met! ‚Tis there, where flowering valleys smile, Love‘s bower is set! PHILIP. I see her tears: I hear her cry, „‘Twas sooth he said“! Away! away! The end draws nigh, The broken cup of life runs dry; My heart is dead!

SAIDA (to the DEVIL). He will not heed! What need to stay? All, all is gone!

DEVIL. Nay, didst hear that maiden say That now she fain would fling away What scarce was won?

SAIDA. Think you that beauty may be mine?

DEVIL. Yea, thou shalt taste of life‘s new wine! Or magic spell, or gift divine, This maiden‘s beauty must be thine Ere night be done!

SAIDA and DEVIL. Or magic spell, or gift divine, etc.

SAIDA and the DEVIL creep away after LAINE. As they go, GUNTRAN enters from the left, followed by the Lords of Sirault, Velaines, and St. Sauveur – three grim-looking warriors – and the knights of their retinue.

GUNTRAN. Lords of Sirault, Velaines, and St. Sauveur, Would seek lord Philip? Then behold him now! Ye that have known him in the days that were, Say whence hath come that brand upon his brow?

THREE LORDS. Philip, at the dawn of day Forth we ride upon our way; Beware! the dawn is near! Night is spent! awake! awake! Lift those leaden eyes and say What answer dost thou bid us make To him that sent us here!

PHILIP. Go hence and say my race is well-nigh run, From out this breast all lust of war hath fled; Yea, shame and fame and glory all are one; Go tell him this – that lord ye sought is dead.

GUNTRAN. Enough, enough! from this day forth, Whate‘er my chance, I know thee not! These withered limbs be little worth, Yet this right arm hath not forgot Its ancient use. On, on, my lords! Yea, though the end of all be nigh, I‘d liefer meet those rebel swords Than serve with one who dares not die!

PHILIP (taking down the sword which hangs above the throne- chair). A lie! my lords, a lie! Whate‘er he saith, There lives no man can boast that he hath seen These eyes affrighted at the eyes of death! Go, tell your liege I‘ll greet him at Flourines!

Gradually the knights of PHILIP‘s retinue have assembled in the arcade with their dames; the knights now enter the apartment, while their ladies gather in the distance full of bustling curiosity.

PHILIP (turning to his knights). And ye who serve me, see, this sword is drawn That all too long within its sheath hath lain! If so ye love me, ride with me at dawn Or meet me not in fellowship again! Who called me coward? Guntran, it was thou!

GUNTRAN. Philip of Mirlemont, I know thee now! ALL. All hail to Philip, Lord of Mirlemont!

End of Scene 1.

Scene 2.

The Weaver‘s home again, at night-time. The table, upon which a lamp burns feebly, now stands by the window. The shutters are closed and barred.

Lightning is seen through the window in the loft, and distant thunder is heard. The door leading to the alley is undone from without, and JOAN and SIMON enter.

JOAN. Do they still follow?

SIMON. Nay, they pursued us no further than the mouth of the alley.

JOAN. Then ‚twas the echo of our own footsteps that frightened me.

SIMON (fastening the door). Malison on the knaves, and upon the base lord they serve!

JOAN. Why do you do up the door, good man? Shall we rest in peace while our child remaineth in the castle?

SIMON (coming to her). Nay, but ‚tis no work for thee. Keep thou within, and when I have regained my breath I will creep back to the castle through the shadows.

JOAN (clinging to him). They will surely beat thee again.

SIMON. I feel naught, save that our little maid is stolen.

JOAN. Saints forgive me! thou dost not believe she hath been party to this cruelty? SIMON. Wife! JOAN (weeping). I know not what I say.

SIMON. Did ye not hear her entreat that we might be well cared for?

JOAN. Sooth, did I; and prettily ‚twas spoke. SIMON. This is but a scurvy trick of this lord‘s to be rid of us. But bolts and chains will not hold her, once she learns how we have been misused. Buss me, wife, and let me go forth.

JOAN (listening). Hist!

SIMON. The alley is quiet. JOAN. ‚Tis neighbour Grimoald‘s magpie hath broken its cage once more and is beating its wings against our shutters.

Lightning again, and a sharper peal of thunder.

SIMON opens the door and LAINE enters swiftly. She is still in her rich clothes, but is carrying a poor-looking bundle.

TRIO. – LAINE, JOAN, and SIMON.

JOAN. ‚Tis she! ‚tis she! our little Laine!

LAINE. Mother! Mother! SIMON. The flood is out, the night is wild! How came you through the blinding rain?

JOAN. ‚Tis Heaven hath sent us back our child! Then weep not; thou art home again!

LAINE. Mother! Mother!

JOAN. Hush! think no more of what is past Enough that thou art safe at last!

LAINE. Not safe, not safe! I may not rest The while this stone Doth tear and chafe My wounded breast! O! would ‚twere gone! Yea that were best! Mother! Mother!

ENSEMBLE. LAINE. JOAN and SIMON. Then let me cast Stay, stay! hold fast Away this snare To what is there! That made my lord Though this false lord To use me ill, Hath used thee ill, For all the past That now is past Still lingers there; Still thou art fair; My heart is scored And life‘s reward And aching still! Awaits thee still!

JOAN. Aye, truly all are not as he; Thy beauty yet remains to thee!

LAINE. Beauty! ah, let that beauty go! ‚Twas Beauty brought lord Philip low, Whose spirit once had soared so high; ‚Tis Beauty that hath wrought my woe! Dear Mother Mary, hear my cry! – Take it away, away! It breeds not joy, but sorrow, Though seeming fair to-day, ‚Tis false to-morrow. ‚Twas Death, not Life, that came When Beauty first was born! It brings not love, but shame, And hate, and scorn! Once more I fain would be Crooked, as when to-day I knelt and prayed to thee! Ah! take this thing away! Away! away!

She tears open her dress, removes the stone from about her neck, and casts it upon the ground at their feet; then, covering her face with her hands, she rushes away into her bed-chamber.

JOAN and SIMON (at the door of LAINE‘s room). Laine! wench!

JOAN. Hath fastened up her door against us.

SIMON (leaving the door). Nay then, let her bide. The heart lightens when the tears flow.

JOAN (joining him). Gramercy, our child will be ugly again.

SIMON. True. Yet what matters that? She was happier as she was, it would seem.

JOAN. Aye, and more secure, as she saith.

SIMON. And when you think on‘t, she was ne‘er ugly to us.

JOAN. She! ugly!

SIMON. The word was thine.

JOAN. Peace! your mind wanders, my man. (Looking down at the stone.) How shall we deal with the stone? The Friar may be miles away ere now.

SIMON (stooping to pick it up). Let us hide it.

JOAN (arresting his arm). Nay, touch it not.

SIMON. Why?

JOAN. She called it accursed.

SIMON. Accursed it cannot be, when it is the holiest of relics.

After some hesitation he picks it up.

JOAN (in fear). Hold it further from thee.

SIMON (gazing at the stone). Blessed St. Luke! ‚tis of a ruddy, generous colour!

JOAN (regaining courage). Yea, so ‚tis.

SIMON (glancing at LAINE‘s door). The foolish wench! (To JOAN.) Beshrew me! is‘t not a pity to waste it?

JOAN. What mean you?

SIMON. Though it hath wrought ill to one, doth it follow ‚twould so harm another?

JOAN. Beauty bringeth shame, quo‘ she.

SIMON. Aye, upon a maid, because ‚twill encourage unrighteous love. Yet it could bring no shame to thee.

JOAN. To me!

SIMON. To thee; for thou‘rt a wife, and the love I still bear thee is righteous enough, heaven knows.

JOAN. Simon! Why, thy heart is not warm for me, after these years?

SIMON. Sooth, I am but ill-humoured with thee from sheer weariness of body.

JOAN (embracing him). Oh, my man, my man!

SIMON. Aye, in all my troubles I have ne‘er lacked friend, with thee by my side.

JOAN. Heaven bless thee! Oft have we come near to starving together, yet to-day am I glad I wed thee.

SIMON. Joan, take thou the stone and let me see again the buxom lass I courted years agone at Zolden.

JOAN. Nay, rather let me see the comely lad who would walk out from Freyden o‘ Sundays with a bunch o‘ flowers in‘s hand. Dost remember?

SIMON. Ha! JOAN. We were four – I and my girl mates; and thou didst choose me!

SIMON. So did I!

JOAN. Ha, ha, ha! me! Quick! hang thou the stone about thy neck.

SIMON. Not I. To see thee as thou wert would straighten me and ease my creaking bones. Take it, old love, ‚tis for thee. JOAN. Nay, sweetheart – for thee, for thee!

DUET. – JOAN and SIMON.

SIMON. I would see a maid who dwells in Zolden – Her eyes are soft as moonlight on the mere; The spring hath fled, the ripened year turns golden – Shall I win her ere the waning of the year? The reaping-folk pass homeward by the fountain; What is it then that calls me from the dell, What bids me climb the path beside the mountain To the down beyond the sheepfold? Who can tell? Then take it, for this magic stone hath power To change thee to the fairest; yet to me Thou wert fairest as I knew thee in that hour When a maiden dwelt in Zolden! Ah, take it, ‚tis for thee!

JOAN. I would see a youth whom comes from Freyden – He is straighter than the pine trees grow; Gossips say he comes to woo a maiden, So the gossips say – but can they know? Three laughing maids are in the hollow Yet none will set him straight upon his way; Nay! soft! for he hath found the path to follow He is coming! little heart, what will he say? Then take it, for this magic stone hath power To change thee to the fairest, yet to me Thou wert fairest as I knew thee in that hour When a youth came up from Freyden! Ah, take it, ‚tis for thee!

BOTH. Then take it, for this magic stone hath power, etc.

Tenderly JOAN adjusts the cord about SIMON‘s neck so that the stone falls upon his bare breast. Then there is another flash of lightning, followed by a loud roll of thunder.

JOAN (clinging to SIMON). Saints!

SIMON. Fear not.

JOAN (glancing up at the loft). The lightning! ‚twill strike us where we stand. SIMON. Why should it seek us out, that are as the rats of the town?

Lightning again.

JOAN. Ah!

SIMON. Will close the door of the loft.

He goes up the steps laboriously, and enters the loft.

JOAN (at the foot of the steps). Prithee have a care for thyself. ‚Twould break my heart in twain, did aught befall thee.

There is a still brighter flash of lightning, and the crash of some heavy object falling in the alley.

JOAN (running to the door and opening it). Blessed Virgin!

SIMON re-appears, dragging the door of the loft after him. He makes the door fast and descends the steps slowly and painfully. There is another peal of thunder.

JOAN (at the door, peering out). The lightning hath struck the sign and brought it to the ground. Holy Mother, protect us! it hath hung there for full eighteen years, since the day our Laine was born.

LAINE returns. She has resumed her old apparel; her face, which is once more enclosed in her little cap, is pinched and sickly; her shoulder is humped; and, as before, she hobbles with the aid of her crutch.

LAINE. Mother! the storm! it frightens me! JOAN (coming to her). Oh, to see thee bowed and twisted again when to-day thou wert as straight as a poplar! Simon, our child!

JOAN and SIMON embrace her.

LAINE. Nay, dears, heed me not. What horrid noise was that? JOAN. The sign has been struck by lightning and has fallen. Husband, go drag it in, lest our neighbours break their shins upon it.

SIMON goes out.

LAINE. Mother, the sign is heavy, and father is old and weak. Let us go help him. JOAN. Stay you there. (Calling to SIMON.) Simon, my man, let me aid thee – (at the door, starting back) Ah! SIMON (without – in the ringing voice of youth). Nay, I need no aid. Lo!

He re-enters, carrying lightly the fallen sign – a weighty piece of twisted metal-work. He is handsome, fresh-coloured, and beardless, his hair is dark and thick, his body erect and lissom.

LAINE. Oh!

JOAN. Holy St. Jude! Simon!

SIMON (throwing the sign down). Wife! daughter!

LAINE. Father!

JOAN. Blessed be the Saints! (To LAINE.) Guess ye not he wears the sacred stone upon his breast? (Embracing SIMON.) My lad! my lad!

The DEVIL appears at the open door.

DEVIL. H‘m, how fortunate! the family is still up and about. (Beckoning to SAIDA.) Hist!

SAIDA appears and enters the room.

SAIDA. Where is the maid upon whom beauty has fallen so wondrously?

LAINE (presenting herself). Madam?

SAIDA. Thou! why, thou crooked thing, thou art not the weaver‘s daughter – she I saw an hour agone!

LAINE. Even I.

DEVIL (at SAIDA‘s elbow – in her ear). She hath lost her beauty as she found it – in a hurry. Truly this is but unholy magic.

SAIDA (turning from LAINE). What unnatural jugglery is here?

She comes face to face with SIMON, who is gazing at her with rapture.

SIMON (in a low voice). Lady –

SAIDA. Who art thou?

SIMON. Simon Limal, the weaver.

SAIDA. The old man that was lately driven from the castle!

SIMON. Old I was, but – (looking into her face, entranced) lady, I am young.

DEVIL (to SAIDA, as before). Mischief take him! Why he hath gained possession of the charm! SAIDA (to the DEVIL, in a whisper). Then ‚tis mine indeed. My fading beauty hath still enough of power to coax the mystery out of this common fellow, I promise thee.

JOAN (to SIMON, aloud – clutching his arm). Simon! why do you fix your eyes thus upon the lady Saida?

SIMON (shaking JOAN off). Hence! begone! (To SAIDA.) Saints! how fair thou art!

QUINTET. – LAINE, SAIDA, JOAN, SIMON, and DEVIL.

DEVIL (to SAIDA). Haste thee! Haste thee! Use thy cunning! Do not waste the Hours that fly! Time is running, Night is waning; Use thy feigning, Dawn is nigh!

LAINE and JOAN. ‚Tis her beauty doth ensnare him; Naught he hears of all we say! Lady, then in pity spare him, Speak, oh, speak, and bid him stay!

SAIDA (to SIMON). Weaver, hear me – Wouldst thou wander Ever near me Till the day, Rising yonder, Through the gloaming, Finds thee roaming Far away?

LAINE and JOAN. See those eyes his eyes enchaining Nothing now his heart can stir; Naught he recks of our complaining, All his thought is bent on her! SIMON (to SAIDA). Onward! Onward! I will follow, Sea-ward, sun-ward, Still thy slave; Though the hollow Earth should sunder, Though the thunder Roar and rave!

ENSEMBLE.

LAINE and JOAN.

All in vain! He will not hearken;

Sea-ward, sun-ward he will roam!

Day shall dawn and night shall darken

Ere his heart shall lead him home.

SAIDA. DEVIL. SIMON.

Wouldst thou Haste thee! Onward!

wander,etc. Haste thee! etc. Onward! etc.

DEVIL. Haste thee! Haste thee!

SAIDA goes out the door, drawing SIMON after her with an enticing look. JOAN and LAINE would follow, but the DEVIL, laughingly, wards them back and closes the door in their faces. There is a final peal of thunder.

End of Scene 2.

Scene 3.

A space of uneven ground lying between the Castle and the North Gate of Mirlemont. On the right a road runs up to the castle, which is seen perched upon an eminence, and on the left stand the gate and a portion of the town-wall. Across the scene, in the middle distance, runs a ridge of rocky earth broken, on the left by the opening to a pathway; and beyond the ridge is shewn a wide expanse of country. It is dawn.

The DEVIL, squatting upon the ridge, is looking out into the open country.

JACQUELINE, with weary steps, comes along the pathway.

DEVIL. Ha! welcome, little Jacques! Hast kept thy watch?

JACQ. Oh, yes, master; (faintly) all the night through.

DEVIL. Come! account!

JACQ. Well, as thou didst bid me, I did go after the lady Saida, and the poor youth –

DEVIL. Youth! ho, ho, ho! They did not perceive thee?

JACQ. Not they; I cared for that.

DEVIL. Whither went they?

JACQ. Through the town, she enforcing him by a crook o‘ the finger, he following with fixed eyne and open mouth like one planet-struck. And at last came they to the south gate; and there she did link her arm with his, and did lead him forth into the meadows, until she espied a pent-house under the east wall, warm and dry and overborne with climbing flowers. And when she had made him sit therein she did creep close to him, first bidding him, then entreating him, to yield his secret.

DEVIL. His secret?

JACQ. „Render me thy secret,“ cried she, „oh, render me thy secret“‘ And again, when he refused her with tears, still she cried, „Give me up thy secret!“ and so the black hours grew grey, and the dawn showed rose-yellow; whereupon, unsatisfied, she left him, and I ran hither to thee. Prithee let me to bed, dear master.

DEVIL. Bed!

JACQ. Why, thou didst promise me an easy life.

DEVIL. Shalt sleep anon, lazy-bones, when this merry coil is ended. (Catching her as she staggers from fatigue.) What! nay, sing, dance, drink, guzzle, (pinching her arm) but keep thine eyes open at need an‘ ye would please me.

JACQ. Oh, thy nails! I – I will please thee, dear master.

DUET (with Dance). – JACQUELINE and the DEVIL.

JACQUELINE (struggling against her drowsiness). Up and down, And through the town, Out of the gate and across the meads, Hither and thither He recks not whither; He needs must follow where‘er she leads. Yet, O, he sighed, As ever she cried, – „Now say what magic hath made thee fair?“ „In sooth, sweet dame, How this beauty came, Though I fain would tell thee I may not dare.“

JACQUELINE and DEVIL (aping SAIDA and SIMON). Thou art he! And I am she! For so she beckoned, and so he came; Through fire and water He would have sought her, With jaws agape and with eyes aflame.

JACQUELINE. On and on, Till, one by one, The pale stars flickered and fled away; With eyes entrancing, She led him dancing Beyond the river and through the hay! Yet still he sighed As ever she cried, – „Whence came thy beauty, oh, tell me true?“ „Nay, how it befell I am loth to tell, For none may know how this wonder grew!“

JACQUELINE and DEVIL. I am he! And thou art she! For so he followed where‘er she led; She crooked her finger, He dared not linger Though day was dawning and night had fled.

JACQUELINE. In and out, And round about, She led him at last to that hidden bower; And there with pressing, And soft caressing, She wooed him fondly for all an hour! But though she sighed, Yet ever he cried, – „How came this beauty I may not say!“ Then up she leapt, And away she stept, „Enough, false lover! then go thy way!

JACQUELINE and DEVIL. Thou art she! Oh, let me be; The way from the valley is long and steep! Nay, faster! faster! Good my master, My feet are weary – I needs must sleep!

JACQUELINE sinks to the ground, overcome by slumber, while the DEVIL continues the dance.

DEVIL (aside). Artful weaver, Wouldst deceive her? Nay, but her beauty shall make thee moan, Till all forsaken, Thy heart shall waken – And then the Devil shall claim his own.

SAIDA appears, entering by the pathway. The sun has now got up, brightening the landscape.

DEVIL. Sweet lady?

SAIDA. The fool is obstinate.

DEVIL. Alack!

SAIDA. He doth whine and moan, and declare that to confess his secret would put him into danger of losing the very gift that procured him my favour. My favour! my hate!

DEVIL. Nay, hide you that. Take him to the castle, give him further appetite for your kisses, yet starve him by persistent denial. And ere a week has sped – well, I have oft heard what women can do in my country.

SAIDA. To the castle?

DEVIL. Aye.

SAIDA. Sir Count, forget ye the lord Philip?

DEVIL. Ah, you know not

From the castle comes the sound of a prolonged blast of trumpets.

SAIDA. Why do the trumpets sound?

GUNTRAN, decked for war, some Knights who are also in armour, and a Standard-bearer with a standard, enter from the road leading to the castle and cross to the town-gate, where they knock violently.

JACQUELINE wakes, rises, and creeps away up to the castle.

SAIDA. Guntran! what is‘t?

GUNTRAN. What is‘t, madam! why, naught but that Philip of Mirlemont hath of a sudden lost his taste for lollipops and is a man once more.

SAIDA. Sir – !

GUNTRAN (knocking). Ho, gate-keeper! rub the sleep from thine eyes! (To the Standard-bearer.) Unfurl thy standard, knave! (To SAIDA.) Yea, by St. Luke, we are for charging all true citizens to throw down their tools of trade and follow their new-wakened lord. What, keeper!

The clank of chains is heard, and the sound of the lifting of the portcullis.

SAIDA. Follow! whither?

GUNTRAN. To Maestricht, to do battle for the Prince Bishop. (To the Knights.) Cry Philip! Philip of Mirlemont! (seizing the standard) the Lion of Flanders!

KNIGHTS. Philip of Mirlemont! the Lion of Flanders! Philip of Mirlemont!

DEVIL (to SAIDA). See ye now? what is to hinder thee from holding a new lover snug to thy side? SAIDA. To Maestricht! Philip!

DEVIL. Aye, and when he returns, warm with victory, ‚tis thy beauty, freshened by the magic charm the weaver shall yield ye, will draw him to thee again.

The town-bells ring out.

SIMON enters from the path-way, and stands gazing at SAIDA.

SAIDA (lightly). Ah! (Plucking a flower and giving it to him.) For thee, Simon. The morning dew lies upon it, and upon me.

SIMON. Lady, you pardon me?

SAIDA. That do I.

SIMON. And will count me thy slave and leman?

SAIDA. Nay, that cannot be, for I have perceived thou lovest me not.

SIMON. Dearer that I do love this earth that springs anew beneath my feet.

SAIDA. Why then, to love is to yield; therefore give me up thy secret.

SIMON. I cannot – I cannot.

SAIDA. Quit my side then, and knock no more at my heart. I knew not man could be so cruel.

JOAN and LAINE enter, through the gate, searching for SIMON.

JOAN (to LAINE). He is here. (Approaching SIMON.) Husband!

LAINE (going to SIMON). Father! SIMON (waving them from him). Away!

JOAN. I am thy wife.

LAINE. I thy daughter.

SIMON. Get ye gone, I say!

The trumpets sound near at hand, and PHILIP enters, from the castle, accompanied by the rest of his Knights and the Lords of Sirault, Velaines, and St. Sauveur and their Knights. All are in war array.

SAIDA (intercepting PHILIP – speaking into his ear). Philip!

PHILIP. Farewell.

SAIDA. Nay, not farewell.

PHILIP. I have said it, Saida. Beauty and Love have held me in soft embrace overlong. No more! Farewell!

SAIDA. But a little while and thou shalt kiss that word from my memory. Philip, thou dost deceive thyself.

PHILIP. I!

SAIDA. I tell thee thou hast not wearied of beauty, wilt never weary of it; for the nonce, ‚tis beauty that hath fled from my side. (Clutching his arm.) List! when thou return‘st I will show thee such beauty in myself as will make thy innermost soul drunk with love again.

PHILIP. Saida! SAIDA. By all thy Saints, I swear it!

There are cried of „Philip of Mirlemont!“ and GUNTRAN and his companions return. A crowd of townspeople follow, headed by NICHOLAS and the Aldermen.

FINALE OF ACT II.

GUNTRAN. There he stands, that lord ye knew In the days of yore; Stout of heart, and brave and true – See, he dreams no more! Vainly now shall Beauty sue, All her reign is o‘er! Say ye then doth Flanders need us? ‚Tis Lord Philip that shall lead us, Here as heretofore! CHORUS. Hail to the lord of our land! Philip of Mirlemont, hail!

PHILIP. Men of Mirlemont, no longer Wrapt in heedless dreams of sense Sleeps this heart; for clearer, stronger, Sounds the cry that calls me hence! Ah! Gone are Beauty‘s fond caresses, Broken lies Love‘s silken chain; Where the shock of battle presses, I would lead ye forth again!

Let us on, where, loud out-ringing, War‘s acclaim doth rend the air! Let us hence, though Death be winging Every blow that waits me there! Say ye then that I am dreaming? Nay, Lord Philip wakes at last! Look where yonder sun is gleaming – Day is dawning night is past!

CHORUS. Day is dawning night is past! Hail to the lord of our land! Philip of Mirlemont, hail!

JOAN and LAINE approach PHILIP timidly.

LAINE. My lord!

PHILIP. What would you?

LAINE. Good my lord, my father!

PHILIP. I am not he! Poor cripple, stand apart!

Some who are about PHILIP lay hands upon LAINE and JOAN.

LAINE. Nay, nay, in pity hear me! There is one Who by the enchantment of her beauty holds My father as her slave. Ah, go not forth Till thou hast set him free!

JOAN. Yea, give him back To them that love him!

LAINE. Look on me, my lord. Dost thou not know me?

PHILIP. Nay, not I, in faith! What gossip‘s tale is this? (Taking a purse from his pouch.) Go, get thee hence (Throwing her the purse.) And buy thee a new crutch!

LAINE (with a prolonged cry). Oh!

PHILIP (to the townspeople). On to the market-place!

The citizens surround PHILIP and LAINE, while JOAN is swept aside in the tumult.

PHILIP is mounted upon the shoulders of two of the townsmen.

CHORUS. Hail! Hail! Day is dawning, night is past! Hail to the lord of our land! Philip of Mirlemont, hail!

[the following chorus appears in the libretto, but not in the vocal score.]

CHORUS. Hail to the lord of our land! Philip of Mirlemont, hail! Forth from the anvil and loom, Up from the depths of the vale, Hither, thy liegemen, we come Ready to answer thy call, Heedless of what may befall, Fearless of heart – for we know, Even though Death be the foe, Thou shalt not falter nor fail! Hail to the lord of our land! Philip of Mirlemont, hail!

The citizens, bearing PHILIP, and singing as they go, pass through the town-gate, headed by GUNTRAN and NICHOLAS and followed by the Lords of Sirault, Velaines, and St. Sauveur, and the Knights and pages. As the crowd disperses, LAINE is discovered lying upon the ground, trampled on and senseless. With a cry, JOAN, rushes to her and kneels by her side. At the same moment SAIDA is seen going towards the castle beckoning SIMON, who follows her with outstretched arms. JOAN turns to them and raises her hand to heaven in malediction. The DEVIL looks on approvingly. The voices of the citizens are heard in the distance, growing fainter and fainter as the curtain falls.

END OF ACT II.

ACT III

Scene 1.

The Terrace of the Castle. In the centre stands an ample, cushioned seat. On the right and left is an archway; and, at the back, from one archway to the other, runs a balustrade from which spring pillars supporting the roof. Beyond is a view of the Wall and Town of Mirlemont, as seen from a height. The sun shines hotly.

From without, as if from some distance below the castle, comes the sound of LAINE‘s voice.

SONG. – LAINE.

An hour agone ‚twas the moon that shone – Oh, for the moon on the city wall! – But the night is done, and now one by one The banners are set afloat in the sun – Oh, for the sun on the city wall! – Yet night and day I kneel and pray At the foot of the castle stair; Then tell me, I pray, ye gallants gay – Ah, tell me, ye ladies fair! – If your lord should chance to ride this way, Would he list to a poor maid‘s prayer?

During the song, the SENESCHAL enters, from the right. Attracted by the voice, he goes to the balustrade and looks down at the singer.

SENESCHAL (as the song ceases). ‚Tis the crippled beggar-maid. Why comes she hither to sing her song morn after morn? Get ye within the town, foolish wench, where thy piping will not be lost in air.

From the left, SAIDA and SIMON enter. An angry frown is upon her face, but, lover-like, he follows her patiently and wistfully. SIMON is now apparelled richly, in a habit becoming a young man. The SENESCHAL, eyeing them under his brows, bows and prepares to depart.

SAIDA (to the SENESCHAL). Stay. Some bustle is toward in the town. Seek ye the cause.

SENES. I will, madam.

He goes out, on the left.

SAIDA (sitting wearily). The air is heavy, is it not?

SIMON. To me ‚tis pleasing, save when you look harshly upon me.

SAIDA (impatiently). Tsch! thou know‘st I regard thee with some liking.

SIMON. With some liking! Yesterday ‚twas with some love; this morn ‚tis with some liking; to-morrow, perchance, ‚twill be with a little loathing. (Sitting beside her.) Alack, you alter with each hour!

SAIDA (softly). Tell me thy secret, Simon, and I will be steadfast evermore.

SIMON. I cannot!

SAIDA. Pah! how oft have I besought thee to trust me, and how oft hast thou replied, „I cannot, I cannot“!

SIMON. You would I trust, dared I trust mortal. (Rising apprehensively.) But there is the holy friar‘s warning against it.

SAIDA. He recked not of one loving thee as I do. For, indeed, I find I do love thee, Simon.

SIMON (throwing himself upon his knees before her). Oh, lady, lady!

SAIDA (bending over him). Therefore give me, for trust, the lightest inkling of thy secret. Trust me, or go.

SIMON. Pity me!

SAIDA (thrusting him from her). Nay then, go! SIMON (clinging to her). Sweet madam, this much will I tell

SAIDA. Ah!

SIMON. The miracle is wrought by the possession of a sacred relic that will advantage only its owner.

SAIDA (her arms about him). Yea! Say on, dear love.

SIMON. No more.

SAIDA. Lo, I stoop to kiss thine hands! Where lieth this relic?

SIMON. That will I ne‘er reveal.

SAIDA. Takest thou me for a thief!

SIMON. I do fear even the rush of the wind, lest it strip me of my holy treasure.

SAIDA. What! dost thou bear it upon thee?

SIMON. Nay!

SAIDA. Thou dost!

LAINE‘s voice is again heard.

LAINE.

The white moon lay on the ruined hay, White as a shroud on the city wall! Though they cried him nay, yet he went his way; For all their sighing he would not stay – Oh, for the moon on the city wall! – Then tell him, pray, ye gallants gay – Ah, tell him, ye ladies fair! – There is one doth wait by the castle gate, At the foot of the castle stair; And she cries Alack! come back, come back! Ah, why doth he linger there?

SIMON. List!

SAIDA. ‚Tis but a beggar-maid that sings daily under the castle wall.

SIMON (rising and looking down at SAIDA guiltily). Lady – !

SAIDA (avoiding his gaze). Aye?

SIMON (his head bowed). This beggar-maid is the daughter of old Simon Limal, the weaver; the daughter of the man I was ere I became – (conscience-stricken.) Saints, what am I!

SAIDA (rising and embracing him). My lover – my lover.

SIMON (repelling her gently). The song of the beggar-maid oppresses me.

SAIDA. Think not of her now, in the hour of our love. Fling her gold.

SIMON. That have I done, and she renders it back to the warder at the castle gate. ‚Tis not gold she begs. Poor wench! poor wench!

He looks over the balustrade, while SAIDA taps her foot upon the ground impatiently. The song ceases.

SIMON (turning to her). Lady, you speak sooth – the air is heavy.

The SENESCHAL returns.

SENES. Madam – SAIDA. Say you?

SENES. There has ridden one into the town telling how that, upon coming of the Duke of Burgundy and the Count of Hainault, the rebel lord of Pieruels did raise the siege of Maestricht and fall upon Liege.

SAIDA. Ha!

SENES. And that there a great and victorious battle has been fought.

SAIDA. Victorious! (Advancing to him.) My lord of Mirlemont – ?

SENES. Returns triumphant. The town buzzes with talk of his gallantry, and even now gathers an assemblage in the market-place to greet him honourably.

SAIDA. Triumphant! At what hour is he looked for? SENES. Madam, at noon.

The SENESCHAL goes out, on the left.

SAIDA (to herself). Triumphant! and returned! already!

SIMON (approaching her, gloomily). The lord of Mirlemont is for home. Then am I banished from thy side.

SAIDA. Sweet, I will plot to keep thee near me. Come, ‚tis still a little time from noon, and the sun is hot. Let us, while we may, go within, and ‚twixt sleeping and waking, whisper promises of love.

SIMON (passionately). Saida!

SAIDA (drawing back). Stay! but first show me this holy relic that thou hast upon thee.

SIMON (disclosing the stone). ‚Tis here.

SAIDA (in a whisper). Come!

They go off together, on the right, her fingers toying with the cord from which hangs the beauty stone. As they go, the DEVIL, watching them, steals on, from the left, followed by JACQUELINE, who is carrying a lute. JACQUELINE is now very gentle and maidenly.

DEVIL (to himself). At last! I thought my jest had run its course, the booby was so prudent. (To JACQUELINE.) Little Jacques.

JACQ (approaching him, with downcast eyes). Call you me, sir?

DEVIL. See you yon couple?

JACQ. Aye.

DEVIL. What make they?

JACQ (with a sigh). Love, I ween – true love.

DEVIL. Ha, ha, ha! ho, ho, ho!

JACQ. Why, ‚tis my lady Saida and the pretty youth! and while the lord Philip is away at the wars! Oh, shame! (Walking away.) I will look no more.

DEVIL. H‘m, I had forgot you are a girl, little Jacques. ‚Tis surprising, too, how modest ye are, remembering ye as I found ye. Lo, they have shut themselves within; you may turn your blushing face hitherward.

JACQ (returning to him). Oh, do not scoff at me, dear master!

DEVIL (with a grimace). Dear master! (Venomously). Dear puling, sighing, bleating sheep – for so you are become!

JACQ. Oh, prithee!

DEVIL (sitting, gazing in the direction in which SAIDA and SIMON have departed.) Bah! strike me thy lute and sing. Sing me a strain with mischief in it.

JACQ. Nay, I know no such strain. (Woefully.) I fear me I have lost appetite for mischief, master. DEVIL. Sing, vixen! sing!

SONG. – JACQUELINE.

Why dost thou sigh and moan? Ah, why? ah, why? Mad, merry Jacqueline, That danced from morn till e‘en – Good-bye! good-bye! Yea, for all mirth hath flown; The strings have all one tone – Ah, why? ah, why?

DEVIL (not heeding JACQUELINE – to himself). Haste, Saida! haste! thy lord‘s home-coming will thwart thee an‘ thou dost not use despatch!

JACQUELINE seats herself upon the ground near the DEVIL.

JACQUELINE. It is the lute that sings, Not I! not I! Haply some prisoned heart That once had felt love‘s smart Doth wake and cry! Nay, it is love‘s own wings That beat the trembling strings – Not I! not I!

DEVIL (turning to JACQUELINE, looking down upon her with distaste). Why, what is‘t ye sing of? JACQ. Love, master.

DEVIL. Love!

JACQ. Yea, master.

DEVIL. Of what degree?

JACQ. Pure love, sir, faithful love.

DEVIL. Who has learned ye the song?

JACQ. None.

DEVIL. Whence comes it?

JACQ. Methinks, from my heart.

DEVIL. Your heart! your – ! (Suddenly.) Baggage! with whom are you smitten?

She averts her face.

DEVIL (harshly). With whom? with whom? (Jumping up.) Why, you misbegotten little trull, ere I made you my page you had hated men, as such!

JACQ (rising). So did I.

DEVIL. And now – ! the name of the knave? his title?

JACQ. Oh, sir!

DEVIL. Ah! (Grasping her wrist.) ‚Tis I!

JACQ. Mercy! thy nails!

DEVIL. ‚Tis I! speak!

JACQ. Pardon!

DEVIL. Speak!

JACQ. Master, when I promised thee I could ne‘er love man, then – then –

DEVIL. Then – ?

JACQ. Then a man had ne‘er become poor Jacqueline‘s master.

DEVIL (flinging her aside, and pacing to and fro, enraged). Faugh! faugh! ugh! ugh! puh!

JACQ. Pardon me! oh, pardon me! I do desire naught but to serve thee humbly and faithfully till death.

DEVIL. Get thee gone! I am weary of thee! I took ye, fed ye, clothed ye, that thou shouldst be merry, mischievous, and spiteful; and now thou art sick with pure, honest, maidenly devotion. Puh! (flinging her lute over the balustrade). Go! back to thy foul stable!

JACQ. Nay, let me stay, sir.

DEVIL. Rummage beneath the straw; there lie thy rags, where thou didst stow them.

JACQ. Master, I will not leave thee.

DEVIL (formidably). Wilt not! (Pointing to the left.) To thy rags! to thy stable!

She departs unsteadily. From the right comes the sound of SIMON‘s voice calling piteously to SAIDA.

DEVIL (listening). Ha!

SAIDA enters and stands facing the DEVIL triumphantly. She has cast away her outer robe and is clad wholly in white. Her hair streams luxuriantly to her waist, and upon her face is the look of fresh, virginal beauty.

RECITATIVE. – SAIDA.

Mine, mine at last! Poor vanquished slave, begone! Say you my lord hath conquered? look on me! That fading wreath of laurel he hath won Vies not with beauty‘s crown of victory!

SONG. – SAIDA.

What laggard steed doth carry Lord Philip home to-day? Ah! wherefore doth he tarry So long upon the way? Knew he that beauty‘s flower Refashioned waits him here, Methinks each fleeting hour Would seem a lingering year!

Ride on, my lord, ride on! Ride on, and thou shalt find Cheeks of whitest snow Where reddest roses grow O‘er mounds of moulded pearl; Eyes of darkest jet Rimmed round with violet, Tresses that unfurl Like banners in the wind Whereon the sun hath shone! Ride on, my lord, ride on!

Nay, though the crowd be thronging To kiss thy finger-tips, Ride on! these lips are longing, Sweet love, to greet thy lips. Then sheathe that sword thou bearest, Cast the laurel from thy brow; Those eyes that sought the fairest Shall behold the fairest now. Ride on, my lord, ride on!

SIMON enters – again a feeble, broken, old man.

SIMON (appealingly). Saida!

SAIDA. Presume no more, thou vile old man!

DEVIL (leading him across to the left). Old gentleman, take a friend‘s counsel – change thy garb and get thee to thy loom again without more ado.

SIMON. Lady!

DEVIL. Hence, or the cry of witchcraft shall be raised against thee! Hence, vagabond! hence, imposter! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

SIMON staggers away, on the left. Trumpets sound without, and there is the noise of tramping feet and of the clatter of armour.

SAIDA. He comes! my lord comes! DEVIL (glancing over the balustrade). Aye, truly.

SAIDA. So do I reap my triumph in the hour of his triumph! so does my victory crown his victory! so shall my new- found beauty be as the gay flower that the war-weary soldier plucks and wears in his helm!

DEVIL. Aye, and this fellow shall stoop to pluck it too! Stoop! cringe! crawl!

SAIDA. Sir Count, I do thank thee for thy service – ah, prithee, stand aside!

PHILIP and GUNTRAN enter, from the left – PHILIP leaning upon GUNTRAN and, with his disengaged hand, feeling his way helplessly. His casque is off and a bandage is over his eyes. His Knights, and the Standard-bearer carrying a torn standard, follow slowly. All are still in armour, which is now dinted and rusty.

SAIDA. Philip!

PHILIP. Who speaks?

SAIDA. ‚Tis I! Saida!

PHILIP. Saida?

SAIDA. Strip the cloth from thine eyes! look at me!

PHILIP. I cannot. I am blind.

SAIDA (with a cry of horror). Oh – !

GUNTRAN. Nay, madam, ‚tis time for rejoicing. By St. Bavon, but my lord Philip was the first to break the rebel ranks at Liege! As for his eyes, that for the accursed sulphur and pitch that hath seared them! Why, as thou knowest, a man‘s eyes are oft his worst enemy. Therefore we cry naught but Victory – Philip of Mirlemont and Victory!

KNIGHTS. Philip of Mirlemont! Victory! Victory!

DEVIL (behind SAIDA, in her ear). Alack, madam! we reckoned not for this.

SAIDA (to PHILIP, beseechingly). Philip – my love! I tell thee my skin is soft and fair.

PHILIP. I cannot see thee.

SAIDA. My eyes sparkle, my lips are red, my hair drops round me like a cloak.

PHILIP. I cannot see thee.

SAIDA. Then am I no more beautiful to thee than the withered crones that whine for alms beside the fountain?

PHILIP. No more – for I cannot see thee.

LAINE‘s voice is heard again.

LAINE.

With roses red they crowned her head – Bright was the sun on the city wall! – But the light hath fled, and the day is dead, And the rose-leaves all are withered – Oh, for the sun on the city wall! – Then tell me, I pray, ye gallants gay, As ye climb the castle stair, If your lord should chance to ride this way – Ah, tell me, ye ladies fair! – If your lord should chance to ride this way, Would he list to a poor maid‘s prayer? Alack, alack! could he give her back A heart that is prisoned there?

PHILIP. Whose voice is that?

SAIDA. ‚Tis a ragged wench that sings daily under the castle wall.

PHILIP. ‚Tis the voice of the weaver‘s daughter. SAIDA (to the DEVIL, in a whisper). Turn her away! whip her an‘ she will not cease her song! DEVIL (to himself, with a scowl). Aye, for this smacks too much of true love.

He goes out, on the right.

PHILIP (to GUNTRAN). Guntran, I would speak with the weaver‘s daughter. Lead me to her. SAIDA. Nay, she hath returned to her crippledom. Once more is her shoulder humped, her body lean, her skin yellow!

PHILIP (pointing into vacancy). See! she is beautiful!

SAIDA. See! thou canst not see!

PHILIP. Yea – into her soul.

As LAINE‘s song ceases, the DEVIL returns.

SAIDA. Philip!

PHILIP (to GUNTRAN). Lead me forth, to the weaver‘s daughter.

PHILIP goes out, on the left, led by GUNTRAN. The Knights and the Standard-bearer follow.

SCENE.

SAIDA (coming face to face with the DEVIL). So all is lost for ever! And ‚twas thou Didst lure me on to steal this treacherous stone!

DEVIL. Nay, Beauty‘s crown still rests upon thy brow; Though love be blind, that beauty is thine own!

SAIDA. Mine own! mine own! What devil lurks in thee To mock my shame? And this accursed spell, That leaves yon crippled maid her victory – In hell ‚twas born, I yield it back to hell!

She plucks the stone from her bosom and flings it on the ground, and rushes away, on the right. The distant town-bells ring out, as the DEVIL picks up the stone.

DEVIL. And so it befell, At the sound of the bell, This stone had come back to me.

Slipping the stone into his pocket.

And anon it sped over sea and land, It journeyed o‘er land and sea, It hath lodged in many a jealous hand – Yet it always comes back to me!

He mounts the balustrade and leaps into space.

End of Scene 1.

Scene 2.

The Market-place again, now gay with flowers and banners and bright sunshine.

The townsfolk are assembled as in the first act. Those from the war are narrating their exploits to eager listeners, and once more the aldermen are waiting expectantly in the doorway of the town-hall, and the pikemen are gathered about the steps. NICHOLAS DIRCKS is directing the serving-men in the arrangement of the throne-chair and some less important seats in front of the steps, while a score of lads and girls are dancing gaily before the inn, with PEPPIN, the dwarf, in their midst.

CHORUS.

O‘er Mirlemont city the banners are flying – Sing Heigh for the garlands that swing in the sun!- And hearts that but yesterday sadly were sighing Are crying Sing Ho! for the war that is won. Sing Ho for the war that is done! The battle is only begun, For winning a lover, As ye shall discover Is harder than storming a town!

DANCE.

JOAN makes her way through the crowd and humbly plucks NICHOLAS by the sleeve.

NICHOLAS. Tut, tut, tut! what is this?

JOAN. Good burgomaster, hast seen aught of Laine, my child?

NICHOLAS. I, woman!

JOAN. Every morn she will stray from my side, and to-day she is long past her hour for home-coming.

NICHOLAS. Tsch! here is the lord Philip that hath lost both his eyes, and he bids us rejoice; yet thou must needs whimper because perchance thy weakling hath fallen into the dyke. Stand aloof, dame.

NICHOLAS enters the town-hall as SIMON, who has returned to his rags, comes through the crows and approaches JOAN.

SIMON (who is concealed from the rest by his hood, in a low voice). Joan!

JOAN. Blessed St. Luke! Simon!

SIMON. Wife, I am old again; yea, but vastly older than I was, for I have broken faith with thee, my true friend, which knowledge is heavier upon me than double all my years of want and labour.

JOAN. Where is the stone that gave thee youth?

SIMON. The woman took it from my breast.

JOAN. I thank the Saints.

SIMON. Truly thou art avenged. Whither wouldst have me go?

JOAN. Back to thy loom.

SIMON. And thou?

JOAN. I‘ll come with thee, and patch and mend for thee whiles thou art spinning. SIMON. Wife!

JOAN (weeping). Oh, Simon!

Some of the townsfolk gather about them.

THE MATRONLY WOMAN. Why, weaver, where have you been this past week?

JOAN (stoutly). Nay, may not a toiler take holiday once in a score of years? The good man hath been to Zolden, where he courted me ere ever we saw Mirlemont. I did send him with a message to my cousin.

THE SHREWISH GIRL (to SIMON). You know your wench has lost her beauty as quickly as she found it?

JOAN (facing her). Aye, what the Saints bestow, that can they take away. They are not like to give thee aught, sour face, e‘en for an hour, save it be a fit o‘ the spleen.

SIMON and JOAN go up the alley. The Shrewish Girl and a few others follow them, jeering at them. The DEVIL, again disguised as a friar, comes through the crowd and stands pulling his beard and looking about him. The town-bells ring out, as JACQUELINE – dressed as she was in the first act, as a poor girl – enters, with tottering steps, and knocks against the DEVIL.

JACQ (dazed). Oh! Pardon, holy father; I can scarce see thee before me.

DEVIL. What ails thee, daughter? Thou art trembling.

JACQ. Aye, all of a shake. Oh, I have had an ill dream, or some evil fellow has put magic upon me.

DEVIL (shocked). Magic!

JACQ. Father, say, is it possible for one to dream a whole week through?

DEVIL. Verily, if thou sleepest for a week unbrokenly.

JACQ. Alack, and I have been wide-awake! (Clutching at his gown in terror.) Father!

DEVIL. Hey?

JACQ. Grant me your blessing! Holy Saints, but I do believe I have been in service, since a week yesterday, to the Devil himself!

DEVIL (pulling his gown away). Daughter!

JACQ. Nay, nay, your blessing! I will be a good girl for evermore! Your blessing!

DEVIL (in horror). A TANTO SCELERE LIBERA NOS DOMINE!

He waves her from him, and she staggers away towards the alley. The two trumpeters come from the town-hall and, standing upon the steps, blow blasts on their trumpets. The pikemen force the crowd back, as NICHOLAS returns bowing before PHILIP, who descends the steps with GUNTRAN‘s aid. The Knights and the Standard-bearer follow. There is a general movement of sympathy among the crowd.

PHILIP. People of Mirlemont, you are assembled to do me honour, yet are you silent. You will not raise your voices in joyful greeting because, you think, I am blind. Friends, I do declare to you I am blind only with my eyes, and that with my understanding I do see at last all men and women, and the world we dwell in, right clearly. Therefore, for the tardy love I bring you, I do beseech you deny me not your voices.

THE TOWNSFOLK. Philip of Mirlemont! Philip of Mirlemont!

PHILIP. And as earnest of my good resolves toward you that live within my township, have I determined to mate with one that is humblest among you. Yet I take small credit for this act, the maid I worship being the fairest of all I have e‘er known – so pure is she in heart and disposition, wherein I now perceive lieth true beauty. Set me a seat here beside my own.

The serving-men place a seat by the throne-chair, and GUNTRAN goes into the town-hall. SIMON, JOAN, and JACQUELINE return and mix with the crowd. The DEVIL stands near the inn, watching the proceedings with a scowl.

FINALE OF ACT III.

CHORUS.

Hail to the lord of our land! Philip of Mirlemont, hail! Yea, whosoever it be Love shall ere call to thy side.

GUNTRAN reappears, and following him come some of the ladies of PHILIP‘s household escorting LAINE.

GUNTRAN. Behold the maid whose simple faith hath proved Both shield and spur to that true lord she loved!

CHORUS. What is this? Nay, look again! It is! and yet it cannot be!

JOAN. And I who sought her all in vain – My little Laine comes back to me!

CHORUS. Lord Philip weds the cripple Laine? Yes, look again; in sooth ‚tis she!

LAINE advances and embraces her mother and father and JACQUELINE.

LAINE. Oh, father! mother! Father hath come home!

SIMON. Yea, this truant heart never more shall roam.

LAINE. I dreamt not this! And thou, dear Jacqueline!

JACQUELINE. Dost know me still! the rabble‘s tattered queen?

PHILIP (to LAINE). Where hast thou fled? Come hither! take thy place, That all may see the glory of thy face.

DEVIL (aside). I‘ll get me hence. ‚Tis but a sorry jest When love, though blind, hath wit to choose the best.

PHILIP. In truth I am not blind. At last, at last, I see thee truly, know thee as thou art. Though heaven hath set a veil upon these eyes, It doth but blacken out the ruined past; And love‘s one star that lights my sunless skies Shows clear the way that leads me to thy heart.

If the cloak of winter be naught but the glittering garment of spring; If the whispering silence of night but tells of the dawn that is there; Then the veil on these eyes is no more than a shadow that falls from Love‘s wing, ‚Tis love that proclaims thee to-day the fairest of all that are fair.

ALL. If the cloak of winter be naught, etc.

PHILIP and LAINE sit side by side; SIMON and JOAN kneel before them, stretching out their hands in thanksgiving. The DEVIL, hiding his face in his cowl, steals away as the curtain falls finally.

THE END.

Zur Übersicht zurück

The Gondoliers

or: The King of Barataria

Libretto by William S. Gilbert

Music by Arthur S. Sullivan

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE DUKE OF PLAZA-TORO (a Grandee of Spain)

LUIZ (his attendant)

DON ALHAMBRA DEL BOLERO (the Grand Inquisitioner)

Venetian Gondoliers

MARCO PALMIERI

GIUSEPPE PALMIERI

ANTONIO

FRANCESCO

GIORGIO

ANNIBALE

THE DUCHESS OF PLAZA-TORO

CASILDA (her Daughter)

Contadine

GIANETTA

TESSA

FIAMETTA

VITTORIA

GIULIA

INEZ (the King‘s Foster-mother)

Chorus of Gondoliers and Contadine, Men-at-Arms, Heralds and Pages

ACT I – The Piazzetta, Venice

ACT II – Pavilion in the Palace of Barataria

(An interval of three months is supposed to elapse between Acts I and II)

DATE: 1750

ACT I

Scene. – the Piazzetta, Venice. The Ducal Palace on the right.

Fiametta, Giulia, Vittoria, and other Contadine discovered, each tying a bouquet of roses.

CHORUS OF CONTADINE.

List and learn, ye dainty roses,

Roses white and roses red,

Why we bind you into posies

Ere your morning bloom has fled.

By a law of maiden‘s making,

Accents of a heart that‘s aching,

Even though that heart be breaking,

Should by maiden be unsaid:

Though they love with love exceeding,

They must seem to be unheeding –

Go ye then and do their pleading,

Roses white and roses red!

FIAMETTA.

Two there are for whom in duty,

Every maid in Venice sighs –

Two so peerless in their beauty

That they shame the summer skies.

We have hearts for them, in plenty,

They have hearts, but all too few,

We, alas, are four-and-twenty!

They, alas, are only two!

We, alas!

CHORUS. Alas!

FIA. Are four-and-twenty,

They, alas!

CHORUS. Alas!

FIA. Are only two.

CHORUS. They, alas, are only two, alas!

Now ye know, ye dainty roses,

Roses white and roses red,

Why we bind you into posies,

Ere your morning bloom has fled,

Roses white and roses red!

(During this chorus Antonio, Francesco, Giorgio, and other Gondoliers have entered unobserved by the Girls – at first two, then two more, then four, then half a dozen, then the remainder of the Chorus.)

SOLI.

FRANC. Good morrow, pretty maids; for whom prepare ye

These floral tributes extraordinary?

FIA. For Marco and Giuseppe Palmieri,

The pink and flower of all the Gondolieri.

GIU. They‘re coming here, as we have heard but lately,

To choose two brides from us who sit sedately.

ANT. Do all you maidens love them?

ALL. Passionately!

ANT. These gondoliers are to be envied greatly!

GIOR. But what of us, who one and all adore you?

Have pity on our passion, we implore you!

FIA. These gentlemen must make their choice before you;

VIT. In the meantime we tacitly ignore you.

GIU. When they have chosen two that leaves you plenty –

Two dozen we, and ye are four-and-twenty.

FIA. and VIT. Till then, enjoy your dolce far niente.

ANT. With pleasure, nobody contradicente!

SONG – ANTONIO and CHORUS.

For the merriest fellows are we, tra la,

That ply on the emerald sea, tra la;

With loving and laughing,

And quipping and quaffing,

We‘re happy as happy can be, tra la –

With loving and laughing, etc.

With sorrow we‘ve nothing to do, tra la,

And care is a thing to pooh-pooh, tra la;

And Jealousy yellow,

Unfortunate fellow,

We drown in the shimmering blue, tra la –

And Jealousy yellow, etc.

FIA. (looking off). See, see, at last they come to make their choice –

Let us acclaim them with united voice.

(Marco and Giuseppe appear in gondola at back.)

CHORUS (Girls). Hail, hail! gallant gondolieri, ben venuti!

Accept our love, our homage, and our duty.

Ben‘ venuti! ben‘ venuti!

(Marco and Giuseppe jump ashore – the Girls salute them.)

DUET – MARCO and GIUSEPPE, with CHORUS OF GIRLS.

MAR. and GIU. Buon‘ giorno, signorine!

GIRLS. Gondolieri carissimi!

Siamo contadine!

MAR. and GIU. (bowing). Servitori umilissimi!

Per chi questi fiori –

Questi fiori bellissimi?

GIRLS. Per voi, bei signori

O eccellentissimi!

(The Girls present their bouquets to Marco and Giuseppe, who are overwhelmed with them, and carry them with difficulty.)

MAR. and GIU. (their arms full of flowers). O ciel‘! O ciel‘!

GIRLS. Buon‘ giorno, cavalieri!

MAR. and GIU. (deprecatingly). Siamo gondolieri.

(To Fia. and Vit.) Signorina, io t‘ amo!

GIRLS. (deprecatingly). Contadine siamo.

MAR. and GIU. Signorine!

GIRLS (deprecatingly). Contadine!

(Curtseying to Mar. and Giu.) Cavalieri.

MAR. and GIU. (deprecatingly). Gondolieri!

Poveri gondolieri!

CHORUS. Buon‘ giorno, signorine, etc.

DUET – MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

We‘re called gondolieri,

But that‘s a vagary,

It‘s quite honorary

The trade that we ply.

For gallantry noted

Since we were short-coated,

To beauty devoted,

Giuseppe\Are Marco and I;

When morning is breaking,

Our couches forsaking,

To greet their awaking

With carols we come.

At summer day‘s nooning,

When weary lagooning,

Our mandolins tuning,

We lazily thrum.

When vespers are ringing,

To hope ever clinging,

With songs of our singing

A vigil we keep,

When daylight is fading,

Enwrapt in night‘s shading,

With soft serenading

We sing them to sleep.

We‘re called gondolieri, etc.

RECITATIVE – MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

MAR. And now to choose our brides!

GIU. As all are young and fair,

And amiable besides,

BOTH. We really do not care

A preference to declare.

MAR. A bias to disclose

Would be indelicate –

GIU. And therefore we propose

To let impartial Fate

Select for us a mate!

ALL. Viva!

GIRLS. A bias to disclose

Would be indelicate –

MEN. But how do they propose

To let impartial Fate

Select for them a mate?

GIU. These handkerchiefs upon our eyes be good enough to bind,

MAR. And take good care that both of us are absolutely blind;

BOTH. Then turn us round – and we, with all convenient despatch,

Will undertake to marry any two of you we catch!

ALL. Viva!

They undertake to marry any two of us\them they catch!

(The Girls prepare to bind their eyes as directed.)

FIA. (to Marco). Are you peeping?

Can you see me?

MAR. Dark I‘m keeping,

Dark and dreamy!

(Marco slyly lifts bandage.)

VIT. (to Giuseppe). If you‘re blinded

Truly, say so

GIU. All right-minded

Players play so! (slyly lifts bandage).

FIA. (detecting Marco). Conduct shady!

They are cheating!

Surely they de-

Serve a beating! (replaces bandage).

VIT. (detecting Giuseppe). This too much is;

Maidens mocking –

Conduct such is

Truly shocking! (replaces bandage).

ALL. You can spy, sir!

Shut your eye, sir!

You may use it by and by, sir!

You can see, sir!

Don‘t tell me, sir!

That will do – now let it be, sir!

CHORUS OF GIRLS. My papa he keeps three horses,

Black, and white, and dapple grey, sir;

Turn three times, then take your courses,

Catch whichever girl you may, sir!

CHORUS OF MEN. My papa, etc.

(Marco and Giuseppe turn round, as directed, and try to catch the girls. Business of blind-man‘s buff. Eventually Marco catches Gianetta, and Giuseppe catches Tessa. The two girls try to escape, but in vain. The two men pass their hands over the girls‘ faces to discover their identity.)

GIU. I‘ve at length achieved a capture!

(Guessing.) This is Tessa! (removes bandage). Rapture, rapture!

CHORUS. Rapture, rapture!

MAR. (guessing). To me Gianetta fate has granted!

(removes bandage).

Just the very girl I wanted!

CHORUS. Just the very girl he wanted!

GIU. (politely to Mar.). If you‘d rather change –

TESS. My goodness!

This indeed is simple rudeness.

MAR. (politely to Giu.). I‘ve no preference whatever –

GIA. Listen to him! Well, I never!

(Each man kisses each girl.)

GIA. Thank you, gallant gondolieri!

In a set and formal measure

It is scarcely necessary

To express our pleasure.

Each of us to prove a treasure,

Conjugal and monetary,

Gladly will devote our leisure,

Gay and gallant gondolieri.

Tra, la, la, la, la, la, etc.

TESS. Gay and gallant gondolieri,

Take us both and hold us tightly,

You have luck extraordinary;

We might both have been unsightly!

If we judge your conduct rightly,

‚Twas a choice involuntary;

Still we thank you most politely,

Gay and gallant gondolieri!

Tra, la, la, la, la, la, etc.

CHORUS OF Thank you, gallant gondolieri;

GIRLS. In a set and formal measure,

It is scarcely necessary

To express our pleasure.

Each of us to prove a treasure

Gladly will devote our leisure,

Gay and gallant gondolieri!

Tra, la, la, la, la, la, etc.

ALL. Fate in this has put his finger –

Let us bow to Fate‘s decree,

Then no longer let us linger,

To the altar hurry we!

(They all dance off two and two – Gianetta with Marco, Tessa with Giuseppe.)

(Flourish. A gondola arrives at the Piazzetta steps, from which enter the Duke of Plaza-toro, the Duchess, their daughter Casilda, and their attendant Luiz, who carries a drum. All are dressed in pompous but old and faded clothes.)

(Entrance of Duke, Duchess, Casilda, and Luiz.)

DUKE. From the sunny Spanish shore,

The Duke of Plaza-Tor! –

DUCH. And His Grace‘s Duchess true –

CAS. And His Grace‘s daughter, too –

LUIZ. And His Grace‘s private drum

To Venetia‘s shores have come:

ALL. If ever, ever, ever

They get back to Spain,

They will never, never, never

Cross the sea again –

DUKE. Neither that Grandee from the Spanish shore,

The noble Duke of Plaza-Tor‘ –

DUCH. Nor His Grace‘s Duchess, staunch and true –

CAS. You may add, His Grace‘s daughter, too –

LUIZ. Nor His Grace‘s own particular drum

To Venetia‘s shores will come:

ALL. If ever, ever, ever

They get back to Spain,

They will never, never, never

Cross the sea again!

DUKE. At last we have arrived at our destination. This is the Ducal Palace, and it is here that the Grand Inquisitor resides. As a Castilian hidalgo of ninety-five quarterings, I regret that I am unable to pay my state visit on a horse. As a Castilian hidalgo of that description, I should have preferred to ride through the streets of Venice; but owing, I presume, to an unusually wet season, the streets are in such a condition that equestrian exercise is impracticable. No matter. Where is our suite?

LUIZ (coming forward). Your Grace, I am here.

DUCH. Why do you not do yourself the honour to kneel when you address His Grace?

DUKE. My love, it is so small a matter! (To Luiz.) Still, you may as well do it. (Luiz kneels.)

CAS. The young man seems to entertain but an imperfect appreciation of the respect due from a menial to a Castilian hidalgo.

DUKE. My child, you are hard upon our suite.

CAS. Papa, I‘ve no patience with the presumption of persons in his plebeian position. If he does not appreciate that position, let him be whipped until he does.

DUKE. Let us hope the omission was not intended as a slight. I should be much hurt if I thought it was. So would he. (To Luiz.) Where are the halberdiers who were to have had the honour of meeting us here, that our visit to the Grand Inquisitor might be made in becoming state?

LUIZ. Your Grace, the halberdiers are mercenary people who stipulated for a trifle on account.

DUKE. How tiresome! Well, let us hope the Grand Inquisitor is a blind gentleman. And the band who were to have had the honour of escorting us? I see no band!

LUIZ. Your Grace, the band are sordid persons who required to be paid in advance.

DUCH. That‘s so like a band!

DUKE (annoyed). Insuperable difficulties meet me at every turn!

DUCH. But surely they know His Grace?

LUIZ. Exactly – they know His Grace.

DUKE. Well, let us hope that the Grand Inquisitor is a deaf gentleman. A cornet-a-piston would be something. You do not happen to possess the accomplishment of tootling like a cornet-a-piston?

LUIZ. Alas, no, Your Grace! But I can imitate a farmyard.

DUKE (doubtfully). I don‘t see how that would help us. I don‘t see how we could bring it in.

CAS. It would not help us in the least. We are not a parcel of graziers come to market, dolt!

(Luiz rises.)

DUKE. My love, our suite‘s feelings! (To Luiz.) Be so good as to ring the bell and inform the Grand Inquisitor that his Grace the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Count Matadoro, Baron Picadoro –

DUCH. And suite –

DUKE. And suite – have arrived at Venice, and seek –

CAS. Desire –

DUCH. Demand!

DUKE. And demand an audience.

LUIZ. Your Grace has but to command.

DUKE (much moved). I felt sure of it – I felt sure of it! (Exit Luiz into Ducal Palace.) And now, my love – (aside to Duchess) Shall we tell her? I think so – (aloud to Casilda) And now, my love, prepare for a magnificent surprise. It is my agreeable duty to reveal to you a secret which should make you the happiest young lady in Venice!

CAS. A secret?

DUCH. A secret which, for State reasons, it has been necessary to preserve for twenty years.

DUKE. When you were a prattling babe of six months old you were married by proxy to no less a personage than the infant son and heir of His Majesty the immeasurably wealthy King of Barataria!

CAS. Married to the infant son of the King of Barataria? Was I consulted? (Duke shakes his head.) Then it was a most unpardonable liberty!

DUKE. Consider his extreme youth and forgive him. Shortly after the ceremony that misguided monarch abandoned the creed of his forefathers, and became a Wesleyan Methodist of the most bigoted and persecuting type. The Grand Inquisitor, determined that the innovation should not be perpetuated in Barataria, caused your smiling and unconscious husband to be stolen and conveyed to Venice. A fortnight since the Methodist Monarch and all his Wesleyan Court were killed in an insurrection, and we are here to ascertain the whereabouts of your husband, and to hail you, our daughter, as Her Majesty, the reigning Queen of Barataria! (Kneels.)

(During this speech Luiz re-enters.)

DUCH. Your Majesty! (Kneels.) (Drum roll.)

DUKE. It is at such moments as these that one feels how necessary it is to travel with a full band.

CAS. I, the Queen of Barataria! But I‘ve nothing to wear! We are practically penniless!

DUKE. That point has not escaped me. Although I am unhappily in straitened circumstances at present, my social influence is something enormous; and a Company, to be called the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Limited, is in course of formation to work me. An influential directorate has been secured, and I shall myself join the Board after allotment.

CAS. Am I to understand that the Queen of Barataria may be called upon at any time to witness her honoured sire in process of liquidation?

DUCH. The speculation is not exempt from that drawback. If your father should stop, it will, of course, be necessary to wind him up.

CAS. But it‘s so undignified – it‘s so degrading! A Grandee of Spain turned into a public company! Such a thing was never heard of!

DUKE. My child, the Duke of Plaza-Toro does not follow fashions – he leads them. He always leads everybody. When he was in the army he led his regiment. He occasionally led them into action. He invariably led them out of it.

SONG – DUKE OF PLAZA-TORO.

In enterprise of martial kind,

When there was any fighting,

He led his regiment from behind –

He found it less exciting.

But when away his regiment ran,

His place was at the fore, O –

That celebrated,

Cultivated,

Underrated

Nobleman,

The Duke of Plaza-Toro!

ALL. In the first and foremost flight, ha, ha!

You always found that knight, ha, ha!

That celebrated,

Cultivated,

Underrated

Nobleman,

The Duke of Plaza-Toro!

DUKE. When, to evade Destruction‘s hand,

To hide they all proceeded,

No soldier in that gallant band

Hid half as well as he did.

He lay concealed throughout the war,

And so preserved his gore, O!

That unaffected,

Undetected,

Well-connected

Warrior,

The Duke of Plaza-Toro!

ALL. In every doughty deed, ha, ha!

He always took the lead, ha, ha!

That unaffected,

Undetected,

Well-connected

Warrior,

The Duke of Plaza-Toro!

DUKE. When told that they would all be shot

Unless they left the service,

That hero hesitated not,

So marvellous his nerve is.

He sent his resignation in,

The first of all his corps, O!

That very knowing,

Overflowing,

Easy-going

Paladin,

The Duke of Plaza-Toro!

ALL. To men of grosser clay, ha, ha!

He always showed the way, ha, ha!

That very knowing,

Overflowing,

Easy-going

Paladin,

The Duke of Plaza-Toro!

(Exeunt Duke and Duchess into Grand Ducal Palace. As soon as they have disappeared, Luiz and Casilda rush to each other‘s arms.)

RECITATIVE AND DUET – CASILDA AND LUIZ.

O rapture, when alone together

Two loving hearts and those that bear them

May join in temporary tether,

Though Fate apart should rudely tear them.

CAS. Necessity, Invention‘s mother,

Compelled me to a course of feigning –

But, left alone with one another,

I will atone for my disdaining!

AIR

CAS. Ah, well-beloved,

Mine angry frown

Is but a gown

That serves to dress

My gentleness!

LUIZ. Ah, well-beloved,

Thy cold disdain,

It gives no pain –

‚Tis mercy, played

In masquerade!

BOTH. Ah, well-beloved, etc.

CAS. O Luiz, Luiz – what have you said? What have I done? What have I allowed you to do?

LUIZ. Nothing, I trust, that you will ever have reason to repent. (Offering to embrace her.)

CAS. (withdrawing from him). Nay, Luiz, it may not be. I have embraced you for the last time.

LUIZ (amazed). Casilda!

CAS. I have just learnt, to my surprise and indignation, that I was wed in babyhood to the infant son of the King of Barataria!

LUIZ. The son of the King of Barataria? The child who was stolen in infancy by the Inquisition?

CAS. The same. But, of course, you know his story.

LUIZ. Know his story? Why, I have often told you that my mother was the nurse to whose charge he was entrusted!

CAS. True. I had forgotten. Well, he has been discovered, and my father has brought me here to claim his hand.

LUIZ. But you will not recognize this marriage? It took place when you were too young to understand its import.

CAS. Nay, Luiz, respect my principles and cease to torture me with vain entreaties. Henceforth my life is another‘s.

LUIZ. But stay – the present and the future – they are another‘s; but the past – that at least is ours, and none can take it from us. As we may revel in naught else, let us revel in that!

CAS. I don‘t think I grasp your meaning.

LUIZ. Yet it is logical enough. You say you cease to love me?

CAS. (demurely). I say I may not love you.

LUIZ. Ah, but you do not say you did not love me?

CAS. I loved you with a frenzy that words are powerless to express – and that but ten brief minutes since!

LUIZ. Exactly. My own – that is, until ten minutes since, my own – my lately loved, my recently adored – tell me that until, say a quarter of an hour ago, I was all in all to thee! (Embracing her.)

CAS. I see your idea. It‘s ingenious, but don‘t do that. (Releasing herself.)

LUIZ. There can be no harm in revelling in the past.

CAS. None whatever, but an embrace cannot be taken to act retrospectively.

LUIZ. Perhaps not!

CAS. We may recollect an embrace – I recollect many – but we must not repeat them.

LUIZ. Then let us recollect a few! (A moment‘s pause, as they recollect, then both heave a deep sigh.)

LUIZ. Ah, Casilda, you were to me as the sun is to the earth!

CAS. A quarter of an hour ago?

LUIZ. About that.

CAS. And to think that, but for this miserable discovery, you would have been my own for life!

LUIZ. Through life to death – a quarter of an hour ago!

CAS. How greedily my thirsty ears would have drunk the golden melody of those sweet words a quarter – well, it‘s now about twenty minutes since. (Looking at her watch.)

LUIZ. About that. In such a matter one cannot be too precise.

CAS. And now our love, so full of life, is but a silent, solemn memory!

LUIZ. Must it be so, Casilda?

CAS. Luiz, it must be so!

DUET – CASILDA and LUIZ.

LUIZ. There was a time –

A time for ever gone – ah, woe is me!

It was no crime

To love but thee alone – ah, woe is me!

One heart, one life, one soul,

One aim, one goal –

Each in the other‘s thrall,

Each all in all, ah, woe is me!

BOTH. Oh, bury, bury – let the grave close o‘er

The days that were – that never will be more!

Oh, bury, bury love that all condemn,

And let the whirlwind mourn its requiem!

CAS. Dead as the last year‘s leaves –

As gathered flowers – ah, woe is me!

Dead as the garnered sheaves,

That love of ours – ah, woe is me!

Born but to fade and die

When hope was high,

Dead and as far away

As yesterday! – ah, woe is me!

BOTH. Oh, bury, bury – let the grave close o‘er, etc.

(Re-enter from the Ducal Palace the Duke and Duchess, followed by Don Alhambra del Bolero, the Grand Inquisitor.)

DUKE. My child, allow me to present to you His Distinction Don Alhambra del Bolero, the Grand Inquisitor of Spain. It was His Distinction who so thoughtfully abstracted your infant husband and brought him to Venice.

DON AL. So this is the little lady who is so unexpectedly called upon to assume the functions of Royalty! And a very nice little lady, too!

DUKE. Jimp, isn‘t she?

DON AL. Distinctly jimp. Allow me! (Offers his hand. She turns away scornfully.) Naughty temper!

DUKE. You must make some allowance. Her Majesty‘s head is a little turned by her access of dignity.

DON AL. I could have wished that Her Majesty‘s access of dignity had turned it in this direction.

DUCH. Unfortunately, if I am not mistaken, there appears to be some little doubt as to His Majesty‘s whereabouts.

CAS. (aside). A doubt as to his whereabouts? Then we may yet be saved!

DON AL. A doubt? Oh dear, no – no doubt at all! He is here, in Venice, plying the modest but picturesque calling of a gondolier. I can give you his address – I see him every day! In the entire annals of our history there is absolutely no circumstance so entirely free from all manner of doubt of any kind whatever! Listen, and I‘ll tell you all about it.

SONG – DON ALHAMBRA

(with DUKE, DUCHESS, CASILDA, and LUIZ).

I stole the Prince, and I brought him here,

And left him gaily prattling

With a highly respectable gondolier,

Who promised the Royal babe to rear,

And teach him the trade of a timoneer

With his own beloved bratling.

Both of the babes were strong and stout,

And, considering all things, clever.

Of that there is no manner of doubt –

No probable, possible shadow of doubt –

No possible doubt whatever.

ALL. No possible doubt whatever.

But owing, I‘m much disposed to fear,

To his terrible taste for tippling,

That highly respectable gondolier

Could never declare with a mind sincere

Which of the two was his offspring dear,

And which the Royal stripling!

Which was which he could never make out

Despite his best endeavour.

Of that there is no manner of doubt –

No probable, possible shadow of doubt –

No possible doubt whatever.

ALL. No possible doubt whatever.

Time sped, and when at the end of a year

I sought that infant cherished,

That highly respectable gondolier

Was lying a corpse on his humble bier –

I dropped a Grand Inquisitor‘s tear –

That gondolier had perished.

A taste for drink, combined with gout,

Had doubled him up for ever.

Of that there is no manner of doubt –

No probable, possible shadow of doubt –

No possible doubt whatever.

ALL. No possible doubt whatever.

The children followed his old career –

(This statement can‘t be parried)

Of a highly respectable gondolier:

Well, one of the two (who will soon be here) –

But which of the two is not quite clear –

Is the Royal Prince you married!

Search in and out and round about,

And you‘ll discover never

A tale so free from every doubt –

All probable, possible shadow of doubt –

All possible doubt whatever!

ALL. A tale free from every doubt, etc.

CAS. Then do you mean to say that I am married to one of two gondoliers, but it is impossible to say which?

DON AL. Without any doubt of any kind whatever. But be reassured: the nurse to whom your husband was entrusted is the mother of the musical young man who is such a past-master of that delicately modulated instrument (indicating the drum). She can, no doubt, establish the King‘s identity beyond all question.

LUIZ. Heavens, how did he know that?

DON AL. My young friend, a Grand Inquisitor is always up to date. (To Cas.) His mother is at present the wife of a highly respectable and old-established brigand, who carries on an extensive practice in the mountains around Cordova. Accompanied by two of my emissaries, he will set off at once for his mother‘s address. She will return with them, and if she finds any difficulty in making up her mind, the persuasive influence of the torture chamber will jog her memory.

RECITATIVE – CASILDA and DON ALHAMBRA.

CAS. But, bless my heart, consider my position!

I am the wife of one, that‘s very clear;

But who can tell, except by intuition,

Which is the Prince, and which the Gondolier?

DON AL. Submit to Fate without unseemly wrangle:

Such complications frequently occur –

Life is one closely complicated tangle:

Death is the only true unraveller!

QUINTET – DUKE, DUCHESS, CASILDA, LUIZ, and GRAND INQUISITOR.

ALL. Try we life-long, we can never

Straighten out life‘s tangled skein,

Why should we, in vain endeavour,

Guess and guess and guess again?

LUIZ. Life‘s a pudding full of plums,

DUCH. Care‘s a canker that benumbs.

ALL. Life‘s a pudding full of plums,

Care‘s a canker that benumbs.

Wherefore waste our elocution

On impossible solution?

Life‘s a pleasant institution,

Let us take it as it comes!

Set aside the dull enigma,

We shall guess it all too soon;

Failure brings no kind of stigma –

Dance we to another tune!

LUIZ. String the lyre and fill the cup,

DUCH. Lest on sorrow we should sup.

ALL. Hop and skip to Fancy‘s fiddle,

Hands across and down the middle –

Life‘s perhaps the only riddle

That we shrink from giving up!

(Exeunt all into Ducal Palace except Luiz, who goes off in gondola.)

(Enter Gondoliers and Contadine, followed by Marco, Gianetta, Giuseppe, and Tessa.)

CHORUS.

Bridegroom and bride!

Knot that‘s insoluble,

Voices all voluble

Hail it with pride.

Bridegroom and bride!

We in sincerity

Wish you prosperity,

Bridegroom and bride!

SONG – TESSA.

TESS. When a merry maiden marries,

Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries;

Every sound becomes a song,

All is right, and nothing‘s wrong!

From to-day and ever after

Let our tears be tears of laughter.

Every sigh that finds a vent

Be a sigh of sweet content!

When you marry, merry maiden,

Then the air with love is laden;

Every flower is a rose,

Every goose becomes a swan,

Every kind of trouble goes

Where the last year‘s snows have gone!

CHORUS. Sunlight takes the place of shade

When you marry, merry maid!

TESS. When a merry maiden marries,

Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries;

Every sound becomes a song,

All is right, and nothing‘s wrong.

Gnawing Care and aching Sorrow,

Get ye gone until to-morrow;

Jealousies in grim array,

Ye are things of yesterday!

When you marry, merry maiden,

Then the air with joy is laden;

All the corners of the earth

Ring with music sweetly played,

Worry is melodious mirth,

Grief is joy in masquerade;

CHORUS. Sullen night is laughing day –

All the year is merry May!

(At the end of the song, Don Alhambra enters at back. The Gondoliers and Contadine shrink from him, and gradually go off, much alarmed.)

GIU. And now our lives are going to begin in real earnest! What‘s a bachelor? A mere nothing – he‘s a chrysalis. He can‘t be said to live – he exists.

MAR. What a delightful institution marriage is! Why have we wasted all this time? Why didn‘t we marry ten years ago?

TESS. Because you couldn‘t find anybody nice enough.

GIA. Because you were waiting for us.

MAR. I suppose that was the reason. We were waiting for you without knowing it. (Don Alhambra comes forward.) Hallo!

DON AL. Good morning.

GIU. If this gentleman is an undertaker it‘s a bad omen.

DON AL. Ceremony of some sort going on?

GIU. (aside). He is an undertaker! (Aloud.) No – a little unimportant family gathering. Nothing in your line.

DON AL. Somebody‘s birthday, I suppose?

GIA. Yes, mine!

TESS. And mine!

MAR. And mine!

GIU. And mine!

DON AL. Curious coincidence! And how old may you all be?

TESS. It‘s a rude question – but about ten minutes.

DON AL. Remarkably fine children! But surely you are jesting?

TESS. In other words, we were married about ten minutes since.

DON AL. Married! You don‘t mean to say you are married?

MAR. Oh yes, we are married.

DON AL. What, both of you?

ALL. All four of us.

DON AL. (aside). Bless my heart, how extremely awkward!

GIA. You don‘t mind, I suppose?

TESS. You were not thinking of either of us for yourself, I presume? Oh, Giuseppe, look at him – he was. He‘s heart-broken!

DON AL. No, no, I wasn‘t! I wasn‘t!

GIU. Now, my man (slapping him on the back), we don‘t want

anything in your line to-day, and if your curiosity‘s satisfied – you can go!

DON AL. You mustn‘t call me your man. It‘s a liberty. I don‘t think you know who I am.

GIU. Not we, indeed! We are jolly gondoliers, the sons of Baptisto Palmieri, who led the last revolution. Republicans, heart and soul, we hold all men to be equal. As we abhor oppression, we abhor kings: as we detest vain-glory, we detest rank: as we despise effeminacy, we despise wealth. We are Venetian gondoliers – your equals in everything except our calling, and in that at once your masters and your servants.

DON AL. Bless my heart, how unfortunate! One of you may be

Baptisto‘s son, for anything I know to the contrary; but the other is no less a personage than the only son of the late King of Barataria.

ALL. What!

DON AL. And I trust – I trust it was that one who slapped me on the shoulder and called me his man!

GIU. One of us a king!

MAR. Not brothers!

TESS. The King of Barataria! [Together]

GIA. Well, who‘d have thought it!

MAR. But which is it?

DON AL. What does it matter? As you are both Republicans, and hold kings in detestation, of course you‘ll abdicate at once. Good morning! (Going.)

GIA. and TESS. Oh, don‘t do that! (Marco and Giuseppe stop him.)

GIU. Well, as to that, of course there are kings and kings. When I say that I detest kings, I mean I detest bad kings.

DON AL. I see. It‘s a delicate distinction.

GIU. Quite so. Now I can conceive a kind of king – an ideal king – the creature of my fancy, you know – who would be absolutely unobjectionable. A king, for instance, who would abolish taxes and make everything cheap, except gondolas –

MAR. And give a great many free entertainments to the gondoliers –

GIU. And let off fireworks on the Grand Canal, and engage all the gondolas for the occasion –

MAR. And scramble money on the Rialto among the gondoliers.

GIU. Such a king would be a blessing to his people, and if I were a king, that is the sort of king I would be.

MAR. And so would I!

DON AL. Come, I‘m glad to find your objections are not insuperable.

MAR. and GIU. Oh, they‘re not insuperable.

GIA. and TESS. No, they‘re not insuperable.

GIU. Besides, we are open to conviction.

GIA. Yes; they are open to conviction.

TESS. Oh! they‘ve often been convicted.

GIU. Our views may have been hastily formed on insufficient grounds. They may be crude, ill-digested, erroneous. I‘ve a very poor opinion of the politician who is not open to conviction.

TESS. (to Gia.). Oh, he‘s a fine fellow!

GIA. Yes, that‘s the sort of politician for my money!

DON AL. Then we‘ll consider it settled. Now, as the country is in a state of insurrection, it is absolutely necessary that you should assume the reins of Government at once; and, until it is ascertained which of you is to be king, I have arranged that you will reign jointly, so that no question can arise hereafter as to the validity of any of your acts.

MAR. As one individual?

DON AL. As one individual.

GIU. (linking himself with Marco). Like this?

DON AL. Something like that.

MAR. And we may take our friends with us, and give them places about the Court?

DON AL. Undoubtedly. That‘s always done!

MAR. I‘m convinced!

GIU. So am I!

TESS. Then the sooner we‘re off the better.

GIA. We‘ll just run home and pack up a few things (going) –

DON AL. Stop, stop – that won‘t do at all – ladies are not admitted.

ALL. What!

DON AL. Not admitted. Not at present. Afterwards, perhaps. We‘ll see.

GIU. Why, you don‘t mean to say you are going to separate us from our wives!

DON AL. (aside). This is very awkward! (Aloud.) Only for a time – a few months. Alter all, what is a few months?

TESS. But we‘ve only been married half an hour! (Weeps.)

FINALE, ACT I.

SONG – GIANETTA.

Kind sir, you cannot have the heart

Our lives to part

From those to whom an hour ago

We were united!

Before our flowing hopes you stem,

Ah, look at them,

And pause before you deal this blow,

All uninvited!

You men can never understand

That heart and hand

Cannot be separated when

We go a-yearning;

You see, you‘ve only women‘s eyes

To idolize

And only women‘s hearts, poor men,

To set you burning!

Ah me, you men will never understand

That woman‘s heart is one with woman‘s hand!

Some kind of charm you seem to find

In womankind –

Some source of unexplained delight

(Unless you‘re jesting),

But what attracts you, I confess,

I cannot guess,

To me a woman‘s face is quite

Uninteresting!

If from my sister I were torn,

It could be borne –

I should, no doubt, be horrified,

But I could bear it; –

But Marco‘s quite another thing –

He is my King,

He has my heart and none beside

Shall ever share it!

Ah me, you men will never understand

That woman‘s heart is one with woman‘s hand!

RECITATIVE – DON ALHAMBRA.

Do not give way to this uncalled-for grief,

Your separation will be very brief.

To ascertain which is the King

And which the other,

To Barataria‘s Court I‘ll bring

His foster-mother;

Her former nurseling to declare

She‘ll be delighted.

That settled, let each happy pair

Be reunited.

MAR., GIU., Viva! His argument is strong!

GIA., TESS. Viva! We‘ll not be parted long!

Viva! It will be settled soon!

Viva! Then comes our honeymoon!

(Exit Don Alhambra.)

QUARTET – MARCO, GIUSEPPE., GIANETTA, TESSA.

GIA. Then one of us will be a Queen,

And sit on a golden throne,

With a crown instead

Of a hat on her head,

And diamonds all her own!

With a beautiful robe of gold and green,

I‘ve always understood;

I wonder whether

She‘d wear a feather?

I rather think she should!

ALL. Oh, ‚tis a glorious thing, I ween,

To be a regular Royal Queen!

No half-and-half affair, I mean,

But a right-down regular Royal Queen!

MAR. She‘ll drive about in a carriage and pair,

With the King on her left-hand side,

And a milk-white horse,

As a matter of course,

Whenever she wants to ride!

With beautiful silver shoes to wear

Upon her dainty feet;

With endless stocks

Of beautiful frocks

And as much as she wants to eat!

ALL. Oh, ‚tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.

TESS. Whenever she condescends to walk,

Be sure she‘ll shine at that,

With her haughty stare

And her nose in the air,

Like a well-born aristocrat!

At elegant high society talk

She‘ll bear away the bell,

With her „How de do?“

And her „How are you?“

And „I trust I see you well!“

ALL. Oh, ‚tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.

GIU. And noble lords will scrape and bow,

And double themselves in two,

And open their eyes

In blank surprise

At whatever she likes to do.

And everybody will roundly vow

She‘s fair as flowers in May,

And say, „How clever!“

At whatsoever

She condescends to say!

ALL. Oh, ‚tis a glorious thing, I ween,

To be a regular Royal Queen!

No half-and-half affair, I mean,

But a right-down regular Royal Queen!

(Enter Chorus of Gondoliers and Contadine.)

CHORUS.

Now, pray, what is the cause of this remarkable hilarity?

This sudden ebullition of unmitigated jollity?

Has anybody blessed you with a sample of his charity?

Or have you been adopted by a gentleman of quality?

MAR. and GIU. Replying, we sing

As one individual,

As I find I‘m a king,

To my kingdom I bid you all.

I‘m aware you object

To pavilions and palaces,

But you‘ll find I respect

Your Republican fallacies.

CHORUS. As they know we object

To pavilions and palaces,

How can they respect

Our Republican fallacies?

MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

MAR. For every one who feels inclined,

Some post we undertake to find

Congenial with his frame of mind –

And all shall equal be.

GIU. The Chancellor in his peruke –

The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook,

The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook –

They all shall equal be.

MAR. The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts –

The Aristocrat who hunts and shoots –

The Aristocrat who cleans our boots –

They all shall equal be!

GIU. The Noble Lord who rules the State –

The Noble Lord who cleans the plate –

MAR. The Noble Lord who scrubs the grate –

They all shall equal be!

GIU. The Lord High Bishop orthodox –

The Lord High Coachman on the box –

MAR. The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks –

They all shall equal be!

BOTH. For every one, etc.

Sing high, sing low,

Wherever they go,

They all shall equal be!

CHORUS. Sing high, sing low,

Wherever they go,

They all shall equal be!

The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook,

The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook,

The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts,

The Aristocrat who cleans the boots,

The Noble Lord who rules the State,

The Noble Lord who scrubs the grate,

The Lord High Bishop orthodox,

The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks –

For every one, etc.

Sing high, sing low,

Wherever they go,

They all shall equal be!

Then hail! O King,

Whichever you may be,

To you we sing,

But do not bend the knee.

Then hail! O King.

MARCO and GIUSEPPE (together).

Come, let‘s away – our island crown awaits me –

Conflicting feelings rend my soul apart!

The thought of Royal dignity elates me,

But leaving thee behind me breaks my heart!

(Addressing Gianetta and Tessa.)

GIANETTA and TESSA (together).

Farewell, my love; on board you must be getting;

But while upon the sea you gaily roam,

Remember that a heart for thee is fretting –

The tender little heart you‘ve left at home!

GIA. Now, Marco dear,

My wishes hear:

While you‘re away

It‘s understood

You will be good

And not too gay.

To every trace

Of maiden grace

You will be blind,

And will not glance

By any chance

On womankind!

If you are wise,

You‘ll shut your eyes

Till we arrive,

And not address

A lady less

Than forty-five.

You‘ll please to frown

On every gown

That you may see;

And, O my pet,

You won‘t forget

You‘ve married me!

And O my darling, O my pet,

Whatever else you may forget,

In yonder isle beyond the sea,

Do not forget you‘ve married me!

TESS. You‘ll lay your head

Upon your bed

At set of sun.

You will not sing

Of anything

To any one.

You‘ll sit and mope

All day, I hope,

And shed a tear

Upon the life

Your little wife

Is passing here.

And if so be

You think of me,

Please tell the moon!

I‘ll read it all

In rays that fall

On the lagoon:

You‘ll be so kind

As tell the wind

How you may be,

And send me words

By little birds

To comfort me!

And O my darling, O my pet,

Whatever else you may forget,

In yonder isle beyond the sea,

Do not forget you‘ve married me!

QUARTET. Oh my darling, O my pet, etc.

CHORUS (during which a „Xebeque“ is hauled alongside the quay.)

Then away we go to an island fair

That lies in a Southern sea:

We know not where, and we don‘t much care,

Wherever that isle may be.

THE MEN (hauling on boat).

One, two, three,

Haul!

One, two, three,

Haul!

One, two, three,

Haul!

With a will!

ALL. When the breezes are a-blowing

The ship will be going,

When they don‘t we shall all stand still!

Then away we go to an island fair,

We know not where, and we don‘t much care,

Wherever that isle may be.

SOLO – MARCO.

Away we go

To a balmy isle,

Where the roses blow

All the winter while.

ALL (hoisting sail).

Then away we go to an island fair

That lies in a Southern sea:

Then away we go to an island fair,

Then away, then away, then away!

(The men embark on the „Xebeque.“ Marco and Giuseppe embracing Gianetta and Tessa. The girls wave a farewell to the men as the curtain falls.)

END OF ACT I

ACT II

SCENE. – Pavilion in the Court of Barataria. Marco and Giuseppe, magnificently dressed, are seated on two thrones, occupied in cleaning the crown and the sceptre. The Gondoliers are discovered, dressed, some as courtiers, officers of rank, etc., and others as private soldiers and servants of various degrees. All are enjoying themselves without reference to social distinctions – some playing cards, others throwing dice, some reading, others playing cup and ball, „morra“, etc.

CHORUS OF MEN with MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

Of happiness the very pith

In Barataria you may see:

A monarchy that‘s tempered with

Republican Equality.

This form of government we find

The beau ideal of its kind –

A despotism strict combined

With absolute equality!

MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

Two kings, of undue pride bereft,

Who act in perfect unity,

Whom you can order right and left

With absolute impunity.

Who put their subjects at their ease

By doing all they can to please!

And thus, to earn their bread-and-cheese,

Seize every opportunity.

CHORUS. Of happiness the very pith, etc.

MAR. Gentlemen, we are much obliged to you for your expressions of satisfaction and good feeling – I say, we are much obliged to you for your expressions of satisfaction and good feeling.

ALL. We heard you.

MAR. We are delighted, at any time, to fall in with sentiments so charmingly expressed.

ALL. That‘s all right.

GIU. At the same time there is just one little grievance that we should like to ventilate.

ALL (angrily). What?

GIU. Don‘t be alarmed – it‘s not serious. It is arranged that, until it is decided which of us two is the actual King, we are to act as one person.

GIORGIO. Exactly.

GIU. Now, although we act as one person, we are, in point of fact, two persons.

ANNIBALE. Ah, I don‘t think we can go into that. It is a legal fiction, and legal fictions are solemn things. Situated as we are, we can‘t recognize two independent responsibilities.

GIU. No; but you can recognize two independent appetites. It‘s all very well to say we act as one person, but when you supply us with only one ration between us, I should describe it as a legal fiction carried a little too far.

ANNI. It‘s rather a nice point. I don‘t like to express an opinion off-hand. Suppose we reserve it for argument before the full Court?

MAR. Yes, but what are we to do in the meantime?

MAR. and GIU. We want our tea.

ANNI. I think we may make an interim order for double rations on their Majesties entering into the usual undertaking to indemnify in the event of an adverse decision?

GIOR. That, I think, will meet the case. But you must work hard – stick to it – nothing like work.

GIU. Oh, certainly. We quite understand that a man who holds the magnificent position of King should do something to justify it. We are called „Your Majesty“; we are allowed to buy ourselves magnificent clothes; our subjects frequently nod to us in the streets; the sentries always return our salutes; and we enjoy the inestimable privilege of heading the subscription lists to all the principal charities. In return for these advantages the least we can do is to make ourselves useful about the Palace.

SONG – GIUSEPPE with CHORUS.

Rising early in the morning,

We proceed to light the fire,

Then our Majesty adorning

In its workaday attire,

We embark without delay

On the duties of the day.

First, we polish off some batches

Of political despatches,

And foreign politicians circumvent;

Then, if business isn‘t heavy,

We may hold a Royal levee,

Or ratify some Acts of Parliament.

Then we probably review the household troops –

With the usual „Shalloo humps!“ and „Shalloo hoops!“

Or receive with ceremonial and state

An interesting Eastern potentate.

After that we generally

Go and dress our private valet –

(It‘s a rather nervous duty – he‘s a touchy little man) –

Write some letters literary

For our private secretary –

He is shaky in his spelling, so we help him if we can.

Then, in view of cravings inner,

We go down and order dinner;

Then we polish the Regalia and the Coronation Plate –

Spend an hour in titivating

All our Gentlemen-in-Waiting;

Or we run on little errands for the Ministers of State.

Oh, philosophers may sing

Of the troubles of a King;

Yet the duties are delightful, and the privileges great;

But the privilege and pleasure

That we treasure beyond measure

Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State.

CHORUS. Oh, philosophers may sing, etc.

After luncheon (making merry

On a bun and glass of sherry),

If we‘ve nothing in particular to do,

We may make a Proclamation,

Or receive a deputation –

Then we possibly create a Peer or two.

Then we help a fellow-creature on his path

With the Garter or the Thistle or the Bath,

Or we dress and toddle off in semi-state

To a festival, a function, or a fete.

Then we go and stand as sentry

At the Palace (private entry),

Marching hither, marching thither, up and down and to and fro,

While the warrior on duty

Goes in search of beer and beauty

(And it generally happens that he hasn‘t far to go).

He relieves us, if he‘s able,

Just in time to lay the table,

Then we dine and serve the coffee, and at half-past twelve or one,

With a pleasure that‘s emphatic,

We retire to our attic

With the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!

Oh, philosophers may sing

Of the troubles of a King,

But of pleasures there are many and of worries there are none;

And the culminating pleasure

That we treasure beyond measure

Is the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!

CHORUS. Oh, philosophers may sing, etc.

(Exeunt all but Marco and Giuseppe.)

GIU. Yes, it really is a very pleasant existence. They‘re all so singularly kind and considerate. You don‘t find them wanting to do this, or wanting to do that, or saying „It‘s my turn now.“ No, they let us have all the fun to ourselves, and never seem to grudge it.

MAR. It makes one feel quite selfish. It almost seems like taking advantage of their good nature.

GIU. How nice they were about the double rations.

MAR. Most considerate. Ah! there‘s only one thing wanting to make us thoroughly comfortable.

GIU. And that is?

MAR. The dear little wives we left behind us three months ago.

GIU. Yes, it is dull without female society. We can do without everything else, but we can‘t do without that.

MAR. And if we have that in perfection, we have everything. There is only one recipe for perfect happiness.

SONG – MARCO.

Take a pair of sparkling eyes,

Hidden, ever and anon,

In a merciful eclipse –

Do not heed their mild surprise –

Having passed the Rubicon,

Take a pair of rosy lips;

Take a figure trimly planned –

Such as admiration whets –

(Be particular in this);

Take a tender little hand,

Fringed with dainty fingerettes,

Press it – in parenthesis; –

Ah! Take all these, you lucky man –

Take and keep them, if you can!

Take a pretty little cot –

Quite a miniature affair –

Hung about with trellised vine,

Furnish it upon the spot

With the treasures rich and rare

I‘ve endeavoured to define.

Live to love and love to live –

You will ripen at your ease,

Growing on the sunny side –

Fate has nothing more to give.

You‘re a dainty man to please

If you are not satisfied.

Ah! Take my counsel, happy man;

Act upon it, if you can!

(Enter Chorus of Contadine, running in, led by Fiametta and Vittoria. They are met by all the Ex-Gondoliers, who welcome them heartily.)

SCENE – CHORUS OF GIRLS, QUARTET, DUET and CHORUS.

Here we are, at the risk of our lives,

From ever so far, and we‘ve brought your wives –

And to that end we‘ve crossed the main,

And don‘t intend to return again!

FIA. Though obedience is strong,

Curiosity‘s stronger –

We waited for long,

Till we couldn‘t wait longer.

VIT. It‘s imprudent, we know,

But without your society

Existence was slow,

And we wanted variety –

BOTH. Existence was slow, and we wanted variety.

ALL. So here we are, at the risk of our lives,

From ever so far, and we‘ve brought your wives –

And to that end we‘ve crossed the main,

And don‘t intend to return again!

(Enter Gianetta and Tessa. They rush to the arms of Marco and Giuseppe.)

GIU. Tessa!

TESS. Giuseppe! {All embrace.}

GIA. Marco!

MAR. Gianetta!

TESSA and GIANETTA.

TESS. After sailing to this island –

GIA. Tossing in a manner frightful,

TESS. We are all once more on dry land –

GIA. And we find the change delightful,

TESS. As at home we‘ve been remaining –

We‘ve not seen you both for ages,

GIA. Tell me, are you fond of reigning? –

How‘s the food, and what‘s the wages?

TESS. Does your new employment please ye? –

GIA. How does Royalizing strike you?

TESS. Is it difficult or easy? –

GIA. Do you think your subjects like you?

TESS. I am anxious to elicit,

Is it plain and easy steering?

GIA. Take it altogether, is it

Better fun than gondoliering?

BOTH. We shall both go on requesting

Till you tell us, never doubt it;

Everything is interesting,

Tell us, tell us all about it!

CHORUS. They will both go on requesting, etc.

TESS. Is the populace exacting?

GIA. Do they keep you at a distance?

TESS. All unaided are you acting,

GIA. Or do they provide assistance?

TESS. When you‘re busy, have you got to

Get up early in the morning?

GIA. If you do what you ought not to,

Do they give the usual warning?

TESS. With a horse do they equip you?

GIA. Lots of trumpeting and drumming?

TESS. Do the Royal tradesmen tip you?

GIA. Ain‘t the livery becoming!

TESS. Does your human being inner

Feed on everything that nice is?

GIA. Do they give you wine for dinner;

Peaches, sugar-plums, and ices?

BOTH. We shall both go on requesting

Till you tell us, never doubt it;

Everything is interesting,

Tell us, tell us all about it!

CHORUS. They will both go on requesting, etc.

MAR. This is indeed a most delightful surprise!

TESS. Yes, we thought you‘d like it. You see, it was like this. After you left we felt very dull and mopey, and the days crawled by, and you never wrote; so at last I said to Gianetta, „I can‘t stand this any longer; those two poor Monarchs haven‘t got any one to mend their stockings or sew on their buttons or patch their clothes – at least, I hope they haven‘t – let us all pack up a change and go and see how they‘re getting on.“ And she said, „Done,“ and they all said, „Done“; and we asked old Giacopo to lend us his boat, and he said, „Done“; and we‘ve crossed the sea, and, thank goodness, that‘s done; and here we are, and – and – I‘ve done!

GIA. And now – which of you is King?

TESS. And which of us is Queen?

GIU. That we shan‘t know until Nurse turns up. But never mind that – the question is, how shall we celebrate the commencement of our honeymoon? Gentlemen, will you allow us to offer you a magnificent banquet?

ALL. We will!

GIU. Thanks very much; and, ladies, what do you say to a dance?

TESS. A banquet and a dance! O, it‘s too much happiness!

CHORUS and DANCE.

Dance a cachucha, fandango, bolero,

Xeres we‘ll drink – Manzanilla, Montero –

Wine, when it runs in abundance, enhances

The reckless delight of that wildest of dances!

To the pretty pitter-pitter-patter,

And the clitter-clitter-clitter-clatter –

Clitter – clitter – clatter,

Pitter – pitter – patter,

Patter, patter, patter, patter, we‘ll dance.

Old Xeres we‘ll drink – Manzanilla, Montero;

For wine, when it runs in abundance, enhances

The reckless delight of that wildest of dances!

(Cachucha.)

(The dance is interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Don Alhambra, who looks on with astonishment. Marco and Giuseppe appear embarrassed. The others run off, except Drummer Boy, who is driven off by Don Alhambra.)

DON AL. Good evening. Fancy ball?

GIU. No, not exactly. A little friendly dance. That‘s all. Sorry you‘re late.

DON AL. But I saw a groom dancing, and a footman!

MAR. Yes. That‘s the Lord High Footman.

DON AL. And, dear me, a common little drummer boy!

GIU. Oh no! That‘s the Lord High Drummer Boy.

DON AL. But surely, surely the servants‘-hall is the place for these gentry?

GIU. Oh dear no! We have appropriated the servants‘-hall. It‘s the Royal Apartment, and accessible only by tickets obtainable at the Lord Chamberlain‘s office.

MAR. We really must have some place that we can call our own.

DON AL. (puzzled). I‘m afraid I‘m not quite equal to the intellectual pressure of the conversation.

GIU. You see, the Monarchy has been re-modelled on Republican principles.

DON AL. What!

GIU. All departments rank equally, and everybody is at the head of his department.

DON AL. I see.

MAR. I‘m afraid you‘re annoyed.

DON AL. No. I won‘t say that. It‘s not quite what I expected.

GIU. I‘m awfully sorry.

MAR. So am I.

GIU. By the by, can I offer you anything after your voyage? A plate of macaroni and a rusk?

DON AL. (preoccupied). No, no – nothing – nothing.

GIU. Obliged to be careful?

DON AL. Yes – gout. You see, in every Court there are distinctions that must be observed.

GIU. (puzzled). There are, are there?

DON AL. Why, of course. For instance, you wouldn‘t have a Lord High Chancellor play leapfrog with his own cook.

MAR. Why not?

DON AL. Why not! Because a Lord High Chancellor is a personage of great dignity, who should never, under any circumstances, place himself in the position of being told to tuck in his tuppenny, except by noblemen of his own rank. A Lord High Archbishop, for instance, might tell a Lord High Chancellor to tuck in his tuppenny, but certainly not a cook, gentlemen, certainly not a cook.

GIU. Not even a Lord High Cook?

DON AL. My good friend, that is a rank that is not recognized at the Lord Chamberlain‘s office. No, no, it won‘t do. I‘ll give you an instance in which the experiment was tried.

SONG – DON ALHAMBRA, with MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

DON AL. There lived a King, as I‘ve been told,

In the wonder-working days of old,

When hearts were twice as good as gold,

And twenty times as mellow.

Good-temper triumphed in his face,

And in his heart he found a place

For all the erring human race

And every wretched fellow.

When he had Rhenish wine to drink

It made him very sad to think

That some, at junket or at jink,

Must be content with toddy.

MAR. and GIU. With toddy, must be content with toddy.

DON AL. He wished all men as rich as he

(And he was rich as rich could be),

So to the top of every tree

Promoted everybody.

MAR. and GIU. Now, that‘s the kind of King for me.

He wished all men as rich as he,

So to the top of every tree

Promoted everybody!

DON AL. Lord Chancellors were cheap as sprats,

And Bishops in their shovel hats

Were plentiful as tabby cats –

In point of fact, too many.

Ambassadors cropped up like hay,

Prime Ministers and such as they

Grew like asparagus in May,

And Dukes were three a penny.

On every side Field-Marshals gleamed,

Small beer were Lords-Lieutenant deemed,

With Admirals the ocean teemed

All round his wide dominions.

MAR. and GIU. With Admirals all round his wide dominions.

DON AL. And Party Leaders you might meet

In twos and threes in every street

Maintaining, with no little heat,

Their various opinions.

MAR. and GIU. Now that‘s a sight you couldn‘t beat –

Two Party Leaders in each street

Maintaining, with no little heat,

Their various opinions.

DON AL. That King, although no one denies

His heart was of abnormal size,

Yet he‘d have acted otherwise

If he had been acuter.

The end is easily foretold,

When every blessed thing you hold

Is made of silver, or of gold,

You long for simple pewter.

When you have nothing else to wear

But cloth of gold and satins rare,

For cloth of gold you cease to care –

Up goes the price of shoddy.

MAR. and GIU. Of shoddy, up goes the price of shoddy.

DON AL. In short, whoever you may be,

To this conclusion you‘ll agree,

When every one is somebodee,

Then no one‘s anybody!

MAR. and GIU. Now that‘s as plain as plain can be,

To this conclusion we agree –

ALL. When every one is somebodee,

Then no one‘s anybody!

(Gianetta and Tessa enter unobserved. The two girls, impelled by curiosity, remain listening at the back of the stage.)

DON AL. And now I have some important news to communicate. His Grace the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Her Grace the Duchess, and their beautiful daughter Casilda – I say their beautiful daughter Casilda –

GIU. We heard you.

DON AL. Have arrived at Barataria, and may be here at any moment.

MAR. The Duke and Duchess are nothing to us.

DON AL. But the daughter – the beautiful daughter! Aha! Oh, you‘re a lucky dog, one of you!

GIU. I think you‘re a very incomprehensible old gentleman.

DON AL. Not a bit – I‘ll explain. Many years ago when you (whichever you are) were a baby, you (whichever you are) were married to a little girl who has grown up to be the most beautiful young lady in Spain. That beautiful young lady will be here to claim you (whichever you are) in half an hour, and I congratulate that one (whichever it is) with all my heart.

MAR. Married when a baby!

GIU. But we were married three months ago!

DON AL. One of you – only one. The other (whichever it is) is an unintentional bigamist.

GIA. and TESS. (coming forward). Well, upon my word!

DON AL. Eh? Who are these young people?

TESS. Who are we? Why, their wives, of course. We‘ve just arrived.

DON AL. Their wives! Oh dear, this is very unfortunate! Oh dear, this complicates matters! Dear, dear, what will Her Majesty say?

GIA. And do you mean to say that one of these Monarchs was already married?

TESS. And that neither of us will be a Queen?

DON AL. That is the idea I intended to convey. (Tessa and Gianetta begin to cry.)

GIU. (to Tessa). Tessa, my dear, dear child –

TESS. Get away! perhaps it‘s you!

MAR. (to Gia.). My poor, poor little woman!

GIA. Don‘t! Who knows whose husband you are?

TESS. And pray, why didn‘t you tell us all about it before they left Venice?

DON AL. Because, if I had, no earthly temptation would have induced these gentlemen to leave two such extremely fascinating and utterly irresistible little ladies!

TESS. There‘s something in that.

DON AL. I may mention that you will not be kept long in suspense, as the old lady who nursed the Royal child is at present in the torture chamber, waiting for me to interview her.

GIU. Poor old girl. Hadn‘t you better go and put her out of her suspense?

DON AL. Oh no – there‘s no hurry – she‘s all right. She has all the illustrated papers. However, I‘ll go and interrogate her, and, in the meantime, may I suggest the absolute propriety of your regarding yourselves as single young ladies. Good evening!

(Exit Don Alhambra.)

GIA. Well, here‘s a pleasant state of things!

MAR. Delightful. One of us is married to two young ladies, and nobody knows which; and the other is married to one young lady whom nobody can identify!

GIA. And one of us is married to one of you, and the other is married to nobody.

TESS. But which of you is married to which of us, and what‘s to become of the other? (About to cry.)

GIU. It‘s quite simple. Observe. Two husbands have managed to acquire three wives. Three wives – two husbands. (Reckoning up.) That‘s two-thirds of a husband to each wife.

TESS. O Mount Vesuvius, here we are in arithmetic! My good sir, one can‘t marry a vulgar fraction!

GIU. You‘ve no right to call me a vulgar fraction.

MAR. We are getting rather mixed. The situation is entangled. Let‘s try and comb it out.

QUARTET – MARCO, GIUSEPPE, GIANETTA, TESSA.

In a contemplative fashion,

And a tranquil frame of mind,

Free from every kind of passion,

Some solution let us find.

Let us grasp the situation,

Solve the complicated plot –

Quiet, calm deliberation

Disentangles every knot.

TESS.I, no doubt, Giuseppe wedded – THE OTHERS. In a contemplative

That‘s, of course, a slice of luck fashion, etc.

He is rather dunder-headed.

Still distinctly, he‘s a duck.

GIA. I, a victim, too, of Cupid, THE OTHERS. Let us grasp the

Marco married – that is clear. situation, etc.

He‘s particularly stupid,

Still distinctly, he‘s a dear.

MAR. To Gianetta I was mated; THE OTHERS. In a contemplative

I can prove it in a trice: fashion, etc.

Though her charms are overrated,

Still I own she‘s rather nice.

GIU. I to Tessa, willy-nilly, THE OTHERS. Let us grasp the

All at once a victim fell. situation, etc.

She is what is called a silly,

Still she answers pretty well.

MAR. Now when we were pretty babies

Some one married us, that‘s clear –

GIA. And if I can catch her

I‘ll pinch her and scratch her

And send her away with a flea in her ear.

GIU. He whom that young lady married,

To receive her can‘t refuse.

TESS. If I overtake her

I‘ll warrant I‘ll make her

To shake in her aristocratical shoes!

GIA. (to Tess.). If she married your Giuseppe

You and he will have to part –

TESS. (to Gia.). If I have to do it

I‘ll warrant she‘ll rue it –

I‘ll teach her to marry the man of my heart!

TESS. (to Gia.). If she married Messer Marco

You‘re a spinster, that is plain –

GIA. (to Tess.). No matter – no matter.

If I can get at her

I doubt if her mother will know her again!

ALL. Quiet, calm deliberation

Disentangles every knot!

(Exeunt, pondering.)

(March. Enter procession of Retainers, heralding approach of Duke, Duchess, and Casilda. All three are now dressed with the utmost magnificence.)

CHORUS OF MEN, with DUKE and DUCHESS.

With ducal pomp and ducal pride

(Announce these comers,

O ye kettle-drummers!)

Comes Barataria‘s high-born bride.

(Ye sounding cymbals clang!)

She comes to claim the Royal hand –

(Proclaim their Graces,

O ye double basses!)

Of the King who rules this goodly land.

(Ye brazen brasses bang!)

DUKE and This polite attention touches

DUCH. Heart of Duke and heart of Duchess

Who resign their pet

With profound regret.

She of beauty was a model

When a tiny tiddle-toddle,

And at twenty-one

She‘s excelled by none!

CHORUS. With ducal pomp and ducal pride, etc.

DUKE (to his attendants). Be good enough to inform His Majesty that His Grace the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Limited, has arrived, and begs –

CAS. Desires –

DUCH. Demands –

DUKE. And demands an audience. (Exeunt attendants.) And now, my child, prepare to receive the husband to whom you were united under such interesting and romantic circumstances.

CAS. But which is it? There are two of them!

DUKE. It is true that at present His Majesty is a double gentleman; but as soon as the circumstances of his marriage are ascertained, he will, ipso facto, boil down to a single gentleman – thus presenting a unique example of an individual who becomes a single man and a married man by the same operation.

DUCH. (severely). I have known instances in which the characteristics of both conditions existed concurrently in the same individual.

DUKE. Ah, he couldn‘t have been a Plaza-Toro.

DUCH. Oh! couldn‘t he, though!

CAS. Well, whatever happens, I shall, of course, be a dutiful wife, but I can never love my husband.

DUKE. I don‘t know. It‘s extraordinary what unprepossessing people one can love if one gives one‘s mind to it.

DUCH. I loved your father.

DUKE. My love – that remark is a little hard, I think? Rather cruel, perhaps? Somewhat uncalled-for, I venture to believe?

DUCH. It was very difficult, my dear; but I said to myself, „That man is a Duke, and I will love him.“ Several of my relations bet me I couldn‘t, but I did – desperately!

SONG – DUCHESS.

On the day when I was wedded

To your admirable sire,

I acknowledge that I dreaded

An explosion of his ire.

I was overcome with panic –

For his temper was volcanic,

And I didn‘t dare revolt,

For I feared a thunderbolt!

I was always very wary,

For his fury was ecstatic –

His refined vocabulary

Most unpleasantly emphatic.

To the thunder

Of this Tartar

I knocked under

Like a martyr;

When intently

He was fuming,

I was gently

Unassuming –

When reviling

Me completely,

I was smiling

Very sweetly:

Giving him the very best, and getting back the very worst –

That is how I tried to tame your great progenitor – at first!

But I found that a reliance

On my threatening appearance,

And a resolute defiance

Of marital interference,

And a gentle intimation

Of my firm determination

To see what I could do

To be wife and husband too

Was the only thing required

For to make his temper supple,

And you couldn‘t have desired

A more reciprocating couple.

Ever willing

To be wooing,

We were billing –

We were cooing;

When I merely

From him parted,

We were nearly

Broken-hearted –

When in sequel

Reunited,

We were equal-

Ly delighted.

So with double-shotted guns and colours nailed unto the mast,

I tamed your insignificant progenitor – at last!

CAS. My only hope is that when my husband sees what a shady family he has married into he will repudiate the contract altogether.

DUKE. Shady? A nobleman shady, who is blazing in the lustre of unaccustomed pocket-money? A nobleman shady, who can look back upon ninety-five quarterings? It is not every nobleman who is ninety-five quarters in arrear – I mean, who can look back upon ninety-five of them! And this, just as I have been floated at a premium! Oh fie!

DUCH. Your Majesty is surely unaware that directly your Majesty‘s father came before the public he was applied for over and over again.

DUKE. My dear, Her Majesty‘s father was in the habit of being applied for over and over again – and very urgently applied for, too – long before he was registered under the Limited Liability Act.

RECITATIVE – DUKE.

To help unhappy commoners, and add to their enjoyment,

Affords a man of noble rank congenial employment;

Of our attempts we offer you examples illustrative:

The work is light, and, I may add, it‘s most remunerative.

DUET – DUKE and DUCHESS.

DUKE. Small titles and orders

For Mayors and Recorders

I get – and they‘re highly delighted –

DUCH. They‘re highly delighted!

DUKE. M.P.‘s baronetted,

Sham Colonels gazetted,

And second-rate Aldermen knighted –

DUCH. Yes, Aldermen knighted.

DUKE. Foundation-stone laying

I find very paying:

It adds a large sum to my makings –

DUCH. Large sums to his makings.

DUKE. At charity dinners

The best of speech-spinners,

I get ten per cent on the takings –

DUCH. One-tenth of the takings.

DUCH. I present any lady

Whose conduct is shady

Or smacking of doubtful propriety –

DUKE. Doubtful propriety.

DUCH. When Virtue would quash her,

I take and whitewash her,

And launch her in first-rate society –

DUKE. First-rate society!

DUCH. I recommend acres

Of clumsy dressmakers –

Their fit and their finishing touches –

DUKE. Their finishing touches.

DUCH. A sum in addition

They pay for permission

To say that they make for the Duchess –

DUKE. They make for the Duchess!

DUKE. Those pressing prevailers,

The ready-made tailors,

Quote me as their great double-barrel –

DUCH. Their great double-barrel –

DUKE. I allow them to do so,

Though Robinson Crusoe

Would jib at their wearing apparel –

DUCH. Such wearing apparel!

DUKE. I sit, by selection,

Upon the direction

Of several Companies bubble –

DUCH. All Companies bubble!

DUKE. As soon as they‘re floated

I‘m freely bank-noted –

I‘m pretty well paid for my trouble –

DUCH. He‘s paid for his trouble!

DUCH. At middle-class party

I play at ecarte –

And I‘m by no means a beginner –

DUKE (significantly). She‘s not a beginner.

DUCH. To one of my station

The remuneration –

Five guineas a night and my dinner –

DUKE. And wine with her dinner.

DUCH. I write letters blatant

On medicines patent –

And use any other you mustn‘t –

DUKE. Believe me, you mustn‘t –

DUCH. And vow my complexion

Derives its perfection

From somebody‘s soap – which it doesn‘t –

DUKE. (significantly). It certainly doesn‘t!

DUKE. We‘re ready as witness

To any one‘s fitness

To fill any place or preferment –

DUCH. A place or preferment.

DUCH. We‘re often in waiting

At junket or feting,

And sometimes attend an interment –

DUKE. We enjoy an interment.

BOTH. In short, if you‘d kindle

The spark of a swindle,

Lure simpletons into your clutches –

Yes; into your clutches.

Or hoodwink a debtor,

You cannot do better

DUCH. Than trot out a Duke or a Duchess –

DUKE. A Duke or a Duchess!

(Enter Marco and Giuseppe.)

DUKE. Ah! Their Majesties. Your Majesty! (Bows with great ceremony.)

MAR. The Duke of Plaza-Toro, I believe?

DUKE. The same. (Marco and Giuseppe offer to shake hands with him. The Duke bows ceremoniously. They endeavour to imitate him.) Allow me to present –

GIU. The young lady one of us married?

(Marco and Giuseppe offer to shake hands with her. Casilda curtsies formally. They endeavour to imitate her.)

CAS. Gentlemen, I am the most obedient servant of one of you. (Aside.) Oh, Luiz!

DUKE. I am now about to address myself to the gentleman whom my daughter married; the other may allow his attention to wander if he likes, for what I am about to say does not concern him. Sir, you will find in this young lady a combination of excellences which you would search for in vain in any young lady who had not the good fortune to be my daughter. There is some little doubt as to which of you is the gentleman I am addressing, and which is the gentleman who is allowing his attention to wander; but when that doubt is solved, I shall say (still addressing the attentive gentleman), „Take her, and may she make you happier than her mother has made me.“

DUCH. Sir!

DUKE. If possible. And now there is a little matter to which I think I am entitled to take exception. I come here in state with Her Grace the Duchess and Her Majesty my daughter, and what do I find? Do I find, for instance, a guard of honour to receive me? No!

MAR. and GIU. No.

DUKE. The town illuminated? No!

MAR. and GIU. No.

DUKE. Refreshment provided? No!

MAR. and GIU. No.

DUKE. A Royal salute fired? No!

MAR. and GIU. No.

DUKE. Triumphal arches erected? No!

MAR. and GIU. No.

DUKE. The bells set ringing?

MAR. and GIU. No.

DUKE. Yes – one – the Visitors‘, and I rang it myself. It is not enough! It is not enough!

GIU. Upon my honour, I‘m very sorry; but you see, I was brought up in a gondola, and my ideas of politeness are confined to taking off my cap to my passengers when they tip me.

DUCH. That‘s all very well in its way, but it is not enough.

GIU. I‘ll take off anything else in reason.

DUKE. But a Royal Salute to my daughter – it costs so little.

CAS. Papa, I don‘t want a salute.

GIU. My dear sir, as soon as we know which of us is entitled to take that liberty she shall have as many salutes as she likes.

MAR. As for guards of honour and triumphal arches, you don‘t know our people – they wouldn‘t stand it.

GIU. They are very off-hand with us – very off-hand indeed.

DUKE. Oh, but you mustn‘t allow that – you must keep them in proper discipline, you must impress your Court with your importance. You want deportment – carriage –

GIU. We‘ve got a carriage.

DUKE. Manner – dignity. There must be a good deal of this sort of thing – (business) – and a little of this sort of thing – (business) – and possibly just a Soupcon of this sort of thing! – (business) – and so on. Oh, it‘s very useful, and most effective. Just attend to me. You are a King – I am a subject. Very good –

(Gavotte.)

DUKE, DUCHESS, CASILDA, MARCO, GIUSEPPE.

DUKE. I am a courtier grave and serious

Who is about to kiss your hand:

Try to combine a pose imperious

With a demeanour nobly bland.

MAR. and Let us combine a pose imperious

GIU. With a demeanour nobly bland.

(Marco and Giuseppe endeavour to carry out his instructions.)

DUKE. That‘s, if anything, too unbending –

Too aggressively stiff and grand;

(They suddenly modify their attitudes.)

Now to the other extreme you‘re tending –

Don‘t be so deucedly condescending!

DUCH. and Now to the other extreme you‘re tending –

CAS. Don‘t be so dreadfully condescending!

MAR. and Oh, hard to please some noblemen seem!

GIU. At first, if anything, too unbending;

Off we go to the other extreme –

Too confoundedly condescending!

DUKE. Now a gavotte perform sedately –

Offer your hand with conscious pride;

Take an attitude not too stately,

Still sufficiently dignified.

MAR. and Now for an attitude not too stately,

GIU. Still sufficiently dignified.

(They endeavour to carry out his instructions.)

DUKE (beating Oncely, twicely – oncely, twicely –

time). Bow impressively ere you glide.

(They do so.)

Capital both, capital both – you‘ve caught it nicely!

That is the style of thing precisely!

DUCH. and Capital both, capital both – they‘ve caught it nicely!

CAS. That is the style of thing precisely!

MAR. and Oh, sweet to earn a nobleman‘s praise!

GIU. Capital both, capital both – we‘ve caught it nicely!

Supposing he‘s right in what he says,

This is the style of thing precisely!

(Gavotte. At the end exeunt Duke and Duchess, leaving Casilda with Marco and Giuseppe.)

GIU. (to Marco). The old birds have gone away and left the young chickens together. That‘s called tact.

MAR. It‘s very awkward. We really ought to tell her how we are situated. It‘s not fair to the girl.

GIU. Then why don‘t you do it?

MAR. I‘d rather not – you.

GIU. I don‘t know how to begin. (To Casilda.) Er – Madam – I – we, that is, several of us –

CAS. Gentlemen, I am bound to listen to you; but it is right to tell you that, not knowing I was married in infancy, I am over head and ears in love with somebody else.

GIU. Our case exactly! We are over head and ears in love with somebody else! (Enter Gianetta and Tessa.) In point of fact, with our wives!

CAS. Your wives! Then you are married?

TESS. It‘s not our fault.

GIA. We knew nothing about it.

BOTH. We are sisters in misfortune.

CAS. My good girls, I don‘t blame you. Only before we go any further we must really arrive at some satisfactory arrangement, or we shall get hopelessly complicated.

QUINTET AND FINALE.

MARCO, GIUSEPPE, CASILDA, GIANETTA, TESSA.

ALL. Here is a case unprecedented!

Here are a King and Queen ill-starred!

Ever since marriage was first invented

Never was known a case so hard!

MAR. and I may be said to have been bisected,

GIU. By a profound catastrophe!

CAS., GIA., Through a calamity unexpected

TESS. I am divisible into three!

ALL. O moralists all,

How can you call

Marriage a state of unitee,

When excellent husbands are bisected,

And wives divisible into three?

O moralists all,

How can you call

Marriage a state of union true?

CAS., GIA., One-third of myself is married to half of ye

TESS. or you,

MAR. and When half of myself has married one-third of ye

GIU. or you?

(Enter Don Alhambra, followed by Duke, Duchess, and all the Chorus.)

FINALE.

RECITATIVE – DON ALHAMBRA.

Now let the loyal lieges gather round –

The Prince‘s foster-mother has been found!

She will declare, to silver clarion‘s sound,

The rightful King – let him forthwith be crowned!

CHORUS. She will declare, etc.

(Don Alhambra brings forward Inez, the Prince‘s foster-mother.)

TESS. Speak, woman, speak –

DUKE. We‘re all attention!

GIA. The news we seek-

DUCH. This moment mention.

CAS. To us they bring –

DON AL. His foster-mother.

MAR. Is he the King?

GIU. Or this my brother?

ALL. Speak, woman, speak, etc.

RECITATIVE – INEZ.

The Royal Prince was by the King entrusted

To my fond care, ere I grew old and crusted;

When traitors came to steal his son reputed,

My own small boy I deftly substituted!

The villains fell into the trap completely –

I hid the Prince away – still sleeping sweetly:

I called him „son“ with pardonable slyness –

His name, Luiz! Behold his Royal Highness!

(Sensation. Luiz ascends the throne, crowned and robed as King.)

CAS. (rushing to his arms). Luiz!

LUIZ. Casilda! (Embrace.)

ALL. Is this indeed the King?

Oh, wondrous revelation!

Oh, unexpected thing!

Unlooked-for situation!

MAR., GIA., This statement we receive

GIU., TESS. With sentiments conflicting;

Our hearts rejoice and grieve,

Each other contradicting;

To those whom we adore

We can be reunited –

On one point rather sore,

But, on the whole, delighted!

LUIZ. When others claimed thy dainty hand,

I waited – waited – waited,

DUKE. As prudence (so I understand)

Dictated – tated – tated.

CAS. By virtue of our early vow

Recorded – corded – corded,

DUCH. Your pure and patient love is now

Rewarded – warded – warded.

ALL. Then hail, O King of a Golden Land,

And the high-born bride who claims his hand!

The past is dead, and you gain your own,

A royal crown and a golden throne!

(All kneel: Luiz crowns Casilda.)

ALL. Once more gondolieri,

Both skilful and wary,

Free from this quandary

Contented are we. Ah!

From Royalty flying,

Our gondolas plying,

And merrily crying

Our „preme,“ „stali!“ Ah!

So good-bye, cachucha, fandango, bolero –

We‘ll dance a farewell to that measure –

Old Xeres, adieu – Manzanilla – Montero –

We leave you with feelings of pleasure!

CURTAIN

Zur Übersicht zurück

The Grand Duke

Comic Opera (in zwei Akten)

Libretto: W.S. Gilbert

Uraufführung: 7. März 1896, Savoy-Theater, London.

Personen: Rudolph, Großherzog von Pfennig-Halbpfennig – Bariton; Ernest Dummkopf, Theaterleiter – Tenor; Ludwig, Komödiant – Bariton; Dr. Tannhauser, Notar – Tenor; Der Prinz von Monte Carlo – Baß; Ben Hashbaz, Garderobier – Bariton; Herold – Bariton; Prinzessin von Monte Carlo, Rudolphs Verlobte – Sopran; Baronin von Krakenfeldt, Rudolphs Verlobte – Alt; Julia Jellicoe, englische Schauspielerin – Sopran; Lisa, Soubrette – Sopran; Mitglieder von Dummkopfs Theatertruppe: Olga, Gretchen, Elsa, Martha und Bertha – Sopran (4) und Mezzo-Sopran; Adelige, Schauspieler u. a.

1. Akt

Marktplatz von Speisesaal im Großherzogtum Pfennig-Halbpfennig. Die von Ernest Dummkopf geleitete Theatertruppe feiert die bevorstehende Hochzeit der Soubrette Lisa und des Komödianten Ludwig. Doch alles verläuft natürlich nicht ohne Komplikationen: Da der Großherzog Rudolph alle Pfarrer zusammenberufen hat, um seine geplante Trauung mit der Baronin von Krakenfeldt zu besprechen, ist bis um 6 Uhr abends kein Geistlicher für Lisa und Ludwig aufzutreiben, der ihre Eheschließung vollzieht. Da die Schauspieler jedoch um 7 Uhr abends das Drama Troilus und Cressida aufführen sollen, bleibt ihnen nichts anderes übrig, als das Hochzeitsmahl schon vor der eigentlichen Hochzeit einzunehmen.

Gesprächsthema ist unter anderem ein geplantes Komplott gegen den Großherzog und und der Plan, ihn durch Ernest Dummkopf zu ersetzen. Ludwig erläutert, daß der Verzehr einer Wurstpastete das geheime Zeichen für die Beteiligung an dem Komplott gegen den Großherzog ist.

Ernest ist überglücklich, daß er Großherzog werden soll, denn er meint, daß er als Leiter einer Schauspielertruppe auch die besten Voraussetzungen für diesen Job mitbringt. Natürlich sollen auch alle seine Darsteller entsprechende Posten erhalten. Die Tragische des Ensembles, die schöne Julia Jellicoe, beansprucht dabei selbstverständlich die Hauptrolle der Großherzogin für sich.

Doch Ludwig unterläuft ein Fehler: Versehentlich hält er einen Geheimpolizisten des Großherzogs für einen der Verschwörer und verrät die Umsturzpläne an ihn. Doch der Notar weiß Rat (Lied „About a century since“). Er berichtet von einem alten Gesetz, dem zufolge es eine Duellvorschrift gibt, durch die Blutvergießen vermieden werden kann. Der Zweikampf wird einfach durch das Ziehen von Karten entschieden, wobei der Verlierer offiziell für 'tot' erklärt wird, und der Gewinner seinen Besitz und seine Pflichten übernimmt (Quintett „Strange the views some people hold!“). Der Notar schlägt nun vor, die Schauspieler sollen dem Großherzog beruhigen, indem sie ihm mitteilen, sie hätten die Verschwörung entdeckt. Ernest und Ludwig, die sich gegenseitig Vorwürfe machen, sollen das Kartenduell austragen, und da das Gesetz verjährt ist und nur noch am folgenden Tag Gültigkeit besitzt, kann ja der Verlierer schon bald wieder offiziell lebendig werden. Das Duell findet statt: Ernest zieht einen König, Ludwig ein As, woraufhin er zum Sieger erklärt wird.

Großherzog Rudolph, der nun erscheint, hat wahrlich nichts Großes an sich: Er ist eine schwächliche Person, miserabel gekleidet und unsagbar geizig. Er ist nur froh, daß seine Verlobte, die Baronin von Krakenfeldt, eine wohlhabende, aber sparsame Frau ist. Die Baronin ist jedoch verärgert, weil ihr zu Ohren kam, daß Rudolph in Kindertagen mit der Prinzessin von Monte Carlo verlobt gewesen sei. Rudolph beruhigt sie, indem er mitteilt, daß er den Ehevertrag nicht eingelöst habe, weil der Vater der kleinen 'Braut' in ständigen Geldnöten gewesen sei. Wenn die Prinzessin bis zu ihrer Volljährigkeit noch nicht geheiratet hat, ist der Vertrag null und nichtig – und genau dies wird am nächsten Tag der Fall sein!

Rudolph erhält einen Brief mit Einzelheiten über den geplanten Komplott. Als Ludwig dem geknickten Großherzog mitteilen will, daß er den Anführer der Widerständler 'getötet' habe, kommt ihm plötzlich eine andere Idee: Warum sollen nicht beide auch ein Kartenduell austragen und den Ausgang dahingehend manipulieren, daß Rudolph im Zweikampf 'stirbt'? Daraufhin würde Ludwig seinen Posten übernehmen, an seiner Stelle entthront werden und – da das Gesetz ja nur noch einen Tag Gültigkeit hat – könnte Rudolph schon bald wieder in Amt und Würden zurückkehren. Vor allen Leuten inszenieren die beiden einen großen Streit, duellieren sich, Rudolph (König) 'stirbt' und Ludwig (As) wird als neuer Großherzog gefeiert.

Julia Jellicoe besteht darauf, daß nun sie und nicht Lisa Ludwigs Gattin werden muß, da ihr die Rolle der Großherzogin gebührt. Den 'großen dramatischen Auftritt' hat allerdings nicht sie, sondern die weinende, enttäuschte Soubrette Lisa (Arie „The die is cast“).

2. Akt

Eingangshalle des großherzoglichen Palastes; am nächsten Morgen. Ludwig will, soweit es möglich ist, klassische Sitte bei Hofe einführen. So sind alle in die Kostüme ihrer Troilus und Cressida-Produktion gekleidet. Ferner hat er das alte Gesetz mit dem Kartenduell für weitere hundert Jahre wieder in Kraft gesetzt, so daß alle, die bis dahin gesetzlich 'tot' sind, es auch weiterhin bleiben. (Dadurch steckt unter anderem Ernest Dummkopf in der Klemme, denn als er sich wieder Julia nähert, erfährt er von dieser, daß er kraft Gesetzes weiterhin 'tot' ist.)

Ludwig ist nun Julia angetraut, jedoch bekommt er Schwierigkeiten mit der Baronin von Krakenfeldt. Da ihr Verlobter Rudolph durch das Kartenduell ausgeschaltet und Ludwig sein Nachfolger ist, ist dieser nun verpflichtet, ihr Mann zu werden. Julia ist, wie zuvor Lisa, verzweifelt.

Zu guter Letzt taucht auch noch der Prinz von Monte Carlo mit seiner Tochter auf. Er ist nun kein armer Mann mehr, denn durch die Erfindung des Roulettespiels hat er ein Vermögen gemacht (Lied „Take my advice“). Seine Tochter erhebt noch immer Anspruch auf die Hand des Großherzogs. In der allgemeinen Verwirrung gesteht der Notar, daß ihm ein kleiner Fehler unterlaufen sei: In dem Gesetz steht ausdrücklich, daß das As die niedrigste Karte ist. Somit wurde Ludwig zu unrecht zum Sieger des Duells gekürt. Dadurch ist auch sein Beschluß, das Gesetz wieder einzuführen, ungültig. So finden die ursprünglichen Paare wieder zueinander: Großherzog Rudolph und die Prinzessin von Monte Carlo (nunmehr eine lohnende Partie), der wieder 'lebendige' Ernest und Julia sowie Lisa und Ludwig.

Zur Übersicht zurück

Haddon Hall

An Original Light English Opera in Three Acts.

written by Sydney Grundy

composed by Arthur Sullivan

______________________________

„To thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man!"

– Shakespeare.

______________________________

Dramatis Personae:

John Manners, Royalist

Sir George Vernon, Royalist

Oswald, Royalist

Rupert Vernon (Roundhead)

The McCrankie, Puritan

Sing-Song Simeon, Puritan

Kill-Joy Candlemas, Puritan

Nicodemus Knock-Knee, Puritan

Barnabas Bellows-to-Mend, Puritan

Major Domo

Dorothy Vernon

Lady Vernon

Dorcas

Nance

Gertrude

Deborah

Chorus of Simples and Gentles

ACT I. – The Lovers. Scene. – The Terrace.

„The green old turrets, all ivy thatch,

Above the cedars that girdle them rise,

The pleasant glow of the sunshine catch,

And outline sharp on the bluest of skies.„

ACT II. – The Elopement. Scene I. – Dorothy Vernon's Door.

Scene II. – The Long Gallery

„It is a night with never a star,

And the hall with revelry throbs and gleams;

There grates a hinge – the door is ajar –

And a shaft of light in the darkness streams."

ACT III. – The Return. Scene. – The Ante-Chamber.

NOTE: The clock of Time has been put forward a century, and other

liberties have been taken with history.

PROLOGUE.

MEN. Ye stately homes of England,

So simple yet so grand;

Long may ye stand and flourish,

Types of our English land!

WOMEN. Ye stately homes of England,

Such mansions only grew

Where virtue reigned from cot to throne,

And man and wife were true.

FULL CHORUS. Ye stately homes of England,

Long may your towers stand;

Types of the life of man and wife,

Types of our English land!

________________________________

ACT I.

SCENE. – The Terrace.

CHORUS.

To-day, it is a festal time!

The bridegroom comes to-day,

And we are here to sing a rhyme

To speed him on his way.

To-day, our mistress, ever dear,

Doth plight her virgin troth;

And we are all forgathered here

To sing, God bless them both!

DANCE.

Enter DORCAS.

RECITATIVE. – DORCAS.

But midst our jubilation

Comes the echo of a sigh;

Its full signification

Ye will gather by-and-bye.

Now, lend me your attention

While I tell you all a tale,

Anent a dainty dormouse

And an unattractive snail.

CHORUS. A dainty dormouse!

An unattractive snail!

SONG. – DORCAS.

'Twas a dear little dormouse –

A little mouse-maid!

Her papa and mamma

She had always obeyed.

Pit-a-pat went her heart,

And her cheek grew pale,

When commanded to marry

A stupid old snail.

„Oh, father, I cannot!“

„But, daughter, thou must;

For he has a house,

And we haven't a crust!„

The snail he was ugly,

The snail he was black;

But for all that he carried

A house on his back.

Said the wily old dormouse,

„When thou art his bride,

He will lend us his house,

And we'll all live inside!„

ALL. „Oh, father, I cannot!„

„But, daughter, thou must;

For he has a house

And we haven't a crust!„

DORCAS. A gallant young squirrel

Sat perched on a tree,

And he thought to himself,

There's a good wife for me!

On the eve of the wedding

He said to the mouse,

„Wilt thou marry a squirrel

Who hasn't a house?„

„Oh, squirrel, I cannot!“

„But, dormouse, thou must,

Her heart to a squirrel

A dormouse may trust.„

The squirrel was handsome,

They plighted their vows,

And the squirrel ran off

With the little dormouse.

And I'm sure if you ever

Set eyes on a snail,

You will all sympathize

With the dormouse's wail.

ALL. „Oh, father, I cannot!

Don't tell me I must;

Though he has a house

And we haven't a crust!„

CHORUS. But who is the dormouse

And who, who is the snail?

Enter SIR GEORGE VERNON, LADY VERNON, and DOROTHY.

CHORUS. Hail to the Lord of Haddon!

And thee, his silver bride!

And to thy daughter, fairest flower

Of all the country side!

WOMEN. Nor violet, lily,

Nor bluebell we bring,

To garland thy pathway

With fragrance of spring.

No beauty of blossom

That dies in a day

Can speak an affection

That blossoms alway.

And never a chaplet

Our hearts could entwine

Could tell the devotion

That ever is thine.

CHORUS. In lieu of the lily

And bonny bluebell,

We lay on thine altar

True love's immortelles.

DOROTHY. Dear playmates of childhood,

Right welcome are you!

More fragrant than lily

A love that is true.

LADY V. Like flower amaranthine

Whose blossoms ne'er fade,

It blooms in the sunshine

And blooms in the shade.

BOTH. Right welcome are you.

CHORUS. In lieu of the lily

And bonny bluebell,

We lay on thine altar

True love's immortelles.

RECITATIVE. – SIR GEORGE.

Welcome, I bid ye welcome, one and all!

Let youth and beauty keep their merry May;

For all too soon the leaves of autumn fall,

And evening shadows quench the laughing day.

MADRIGAL.

SIR G. When the budding bloom of May

Paints the hedgerows red and white,

Gather then your garlands gay;

Earth was made for man's delight!

LADY V. May is playtime –

DOROTHY. June is hay time –

SIR G. Seize the day time –

TRIO. Fa la la!

Carol now the birds of spring!

Let our hearts in chorus sing!

CHORUS. Ere the golden day is pale,

Dawns the silver orb of light;

Sweetly trills the nightingale,

„Earth was made for man's delight!„

Fa la la!

„Earth was made for man's delight!„

SIR G. When the leaves of autumn sigh,

„Nearer death and further birth!„

Time enough for hearts to cry,

„Man was only made for earth!„

LADY V. Youth is pleasant –

DOROTHY. Grasp the present –

SIR G. Moons are crescent –

TRIO. Fa la la!

Time enough for hearts to sigh!

Now the noonday sun is high!

CHORUS. Day in cloth of gold is gay,

Robe of silver wears the night;

All creation seems to say,

„Earth was made for man's delight!„

Fa la la!

„Earth was made for man's delight!"

Exeunt Chorus and DORCAS.

SIR G. What ails thee, Doll? This little head might hold the cares of empire. Smile on me – smile! To-day, of all days, I would have thee merry. What will our cousin Rupert think of thee?

DOROTHY. I care not what our cousin Rupert thinks.

LADY V. Methought he liked not merriment?

SIR G. True, Rupert hath espoused the Roundhead cause; but if I judge aright, short commons and long prayers will like not him! Be not deceived, our cousin's head is

rather long than round. He serves the parliament –

LADY V. And serves the times.

DOROTHY. In brief, he is not honest.

SIR G. Honest, as times go. If, when he is thy husband, he is true to thee, heed not his politics.

DOROTHY. I heed them not, nor his truth either, for he will never be husband of mine.

SIR G. Hearken, Doll. I do not care to plague thy pretty head with musty documents and lawyers' quirks; enough to say that there are some who hold our cousin's title to this

fair estate stronger than ours. This marriage puts an end to doubts and questions that have troubled me, and would be grateful to the parliament, which loves me none too well.

LADY V. Then, must Doll wed to please the parliament?

SIR G. And me!

DOROTHY. From childhood I have striven to please thee, father.

SIR G. And thou hast pleased me well!

DOROTHY. And I will strive to please thee still in everything save this. Do with me as thou wilt, but spare my heart.

I cannot give what is not mine own.

SIR G. Hast thou not yet forgot this youth – whose very name my lips refuse to speak?

LADY V. Manners – John Manners.

SIR G. Rutland's younger son! Shame on thee – shame! He is beneath thee, Doll. Remember who thou art. Remember that with thee pass all the lands of Haddon and this ancient hall, which smiles there as it smiled even before the Conquest.

DOROTHY. I know well who I am. I know from whom I am descended;

nor do I forget their ancient watchword, „Drede God, and honour the King!“ God I have ever dreaded; and the king I honour, by loving one whose sword hath served his cause.

SIR G. If he would sheath that sword – if he would only pay decent respect to parliament.

DOROTHY. He were a traitor, and not worth my love! Oh, father dear, turn not from me in anger! Is it sin to love?

SIR G. Did I speak harshly? Then forgive me, Doll! Ever since my son – my only son – died, fighting for his country, on the sea – thou art my all in all. It breaks my heart to ruffle thee. Go, tell thy lover – if he sheath his sword – if he acknowledge parliament – which otherwise might forfeit my estate – I will confer with Rupert. I can say no more.

DOROTHY.'Twere vain to ask him. It were worse than vain.

SIR G. It is not much I beg of thee.

DOROTHY. My lips could not affront the one I love.

SIR G. They can affront thy father!

DOROTHY. Nay!

SIR G. So be it! Go thy way and I go mine. Remember only that my word is given, and that a Vernon doth not break his pledge.

DOROTHY. I am a Vernon, too, and shall I not keep mine?

SIR G. Bandy not words with me. No longer do I beg thee – I command.

TRIO. – DOROTHY, LADY VERNON, and SIR GEORGE.

DOROTHY. Nay, father dear, speak not to me

In anger's cruel tone!

LADY V. By all the love she bears to thee –

The love that is thine own!

DOROTHY. Remember all thou art to me;

Remember all I am to thee;

And marvel not that hearts will ache –

For true love's sake!

DOROTHY and LADY V. For true love's sake!

SIR G. Go, bid thy lover sheath his sword

And bend his stubborn knee;

Is all thy thought for thine adored,

And hast thou none for me?

LADY V. For true love's sake a heart will sigh!

SIR G. For true love's sake a heart will die!

DOROTHY. His oath a soldier cannot break

For true love's sake!

DOROTHY and LADY V. For true love's sake!

ENSEMBLE.

DOROTHY. For true love's sake a heart will break!

LADY V. For true love's sake a heart will sigh!

SIR G. For true love's sake a heart will die!

Exit SIR GEORGE.

DUET. – DOROTHY and LADY VERNON.

DOROTHY. Mother, dearest mother,

Hearken unto me,

Think not that another

Draws my heart from thee.

Though each day I know him

Brighter shines the sun,

All the love I owe him

Robbeth thee of none.

His I seem to borrow,

All mine own is thine;

In my virgin sorrow

Help me, mother mine.

LADY V. Were but I above him,

Simple were his task;

Doth my daughter love him?

That is all I ask.

Were but I above him,

Stranger though he be,

If my daughter love him,

Son he is to me!

Whether wife or maiden,

All my heart is thine;

Joy or sorrow laden,

Thou art daughter mine.

BOTH. Whether wife or maiden

Thou art daughter/mother mine;

Joy or sorrow laden,

All my heart is thine!

DOROTHY. Mother, my own dear mother,

Both of our lives entwine!

Couldst thou have wed another,

Had such a love been thine?

Oh, mother dear,

I love him so,

No doubt or fear

I seem to know!

LADY V. Go on thy way with gladness!

Happily live the wife!

And leave to me the sadness,

And leave to me the strife.

BOTH. Whether wife or maiden

Thou art daughter/mother mine;

Joy or sorrow laden,

All my heart is thine!

Exeunt.

Re-enter CHORUS, surrounding OSWALD.

CHORUS.

Ribbons to sell, ribbons to sell!

Ribbons to tie up our hair!

Who'll buy? I! I! and I as well!

And now for the fun of the fair!

SONG. – OSWALD.

Come, simples and gentles, and gather ye round,

And for your attention I'll thank'ee;

I sell by the pennyweight, pottle, and pound

Wares English, French, German, and Yankee.

I've wares for the young, nor left out in the cold

Are their elders, the more is the pity,

For I can't help remarking you're none of you old

And noting you're all of you pretty!

I've articles suited to every taste

And every description of weather;

If any fair lady'll oblige with a waist,

We'll try on this girdle together!

CHORUS. Although on his back he may carry a pack,

He has hands of a wonderful whiteness;

And this sympathetic young peripatetic

A paragon is of politeness!

My prices are low and my dealings are cash,

So your pockets I won't dip in deeply;

Through buying my stock at a great London smash

I am able to sell very cheaply;

So bid for it boldly, but please bear in mind

That the rule of cash down is „de rigueur.„

The price of each article, ladies, you'll find,

Has been marked in a very low figure.

A complaint the proprietor bids you implore

In case you're not treated politely,

For I am a type of a travelling store –

In fact, I'm a premature Whitely!

CHORUS. He bought up a great metropolitan smash

At a sacrifice truly alarming;

He doesn't deduct any discount for cash,

But his manner is perfectly charming!

Now isn't that beautiful? isn't that nice?

When I tell you the article's German,

You'll know it could only be sold at the price

Through a grand international firman.

A still greater bargain! An article French.

When I say it's of French manufacture,

I mean that if worn by a beautiful wench,

A heart it is certain to fracture.

But here is the prize – only tuppence – pure gold.

When I mention, the article's Yankee,

Well, nobody then will require to be told

That there can't be the least hanky-panky!

OSWALD. Who'll buy?

CHORUS. Not I!

OSWALD. Who'll buy?

CHORUS. Not I!

OSWALD. A chance like this you mustn't miss!

CHORUS. Oh, yes! oh, yes! the chance we'll miss!

But we've been told, alas!

That what is sold

As Yankee gold

Is sometimes Yankee brass.

Exeunt CHORUS.

OSWALD. This to thy mistress!

DORCAS (recoiling). By our lady, nay!

OSWALD. Thou art a comely wench, and thy face tells me thou art to be trusted.

DORCAS. But art thou to be trusted? For I do not know thee; and ere now packmen have been found deceivers.

OSWALD. I am no packman! Lo! (Throws aside his cloak.) God save the King!

DORCAS. Grammercy! 'tis a gallant gentleman! (Holds out her hand.) Now will I trust thee.

OSWALD. But thou dost not know me, and ere now young men have been found deceivers.

DORCAS. I'll hazard it! (OSWALD gives her the letter.) Nay, prithee, do not cover thyself up ere I have had another glimpse of thee. (OSWALD flings off his cloak.)

(Aside.) Truly a most desirable young man! (Aloud.)

Dost come from London, sir?

OSWALD. From London – aye!

DORCAS (aside, clasping hands). What pretty things they make in London town! (Aloud.) Of course, sir, thou art some fine gentleman?

OSWALD. No – but a soldier and a serving-man.

DORCAS. A serving-man! And I a serving-maid! Then this (indicating letter) comes not from thee?

OSWALD. From Master Manners. He is to whom I owe suit and service.

DORCAS. From Master Manners! Then I guess its burden.

OSWALD. Carry that burden to thy mistress, straight.

DORCAS. Is there such haste?

OSWALD. My master is hard by, and he awaits an answer.

DORCAS. Look me in the face! Art thou indeed a servant? or art thou thine own master – in disguise?

OSWALD. Nay, I am only my plain self.

DORCAS. Thank Heaven!

OSWALD. Oswald, my name!

DORCAS. Mine, Dorcas.

OSWALD. Shall we be friends?

DORCAS. With all my heart! (OSWALD approaches her, she draws back.) Hold! our acquaintance is too young for that.

OSWALD. For what? I did but offer thee my hand.

DORCAS. Was it thy hand?

OSWALD. I dared not offer more; but if thou challenge me –

DORCAS (recoiling). Not I!

OSWALD. Thou art a winsome wench, but thou art coy.

DORCAS. Thou art not coy!

OSWALD. Life is to brief for modesty (holding her).

DORCAS (reflectively). 'Tis rather waste of time.

OSWALD. We shall not long be young.

DORCAS. And in the end it comes to the same thing.

OSWALD. That is philosophy (kisses her).

DORCAS. Enough – for the first lesson. Art thou a great philosopher?

OSWALD. Aye; for I've read life's riddle. Life holds one secret. Live!

DUET. – DORCAS and OSWALD.

OSWALD. The sun's in the sky, and

The grass in the ground;

Nature maternal,

Placid, supernal,

Spreadeth her vernal

Mantle around.

DORCAS.'Tis idle repining,

When summer is gay;

When from her coffers

Jewels she offers,

Scorn not her proffers,

Say her not nay!

OSWALD. While morning is shining,

Your garlands entwine;

Ere evening closes,

Gather your posies,

Jasmine and roses,

Sweet eglantine!

DORCAS. While yet it is daylight,

Rejoice in the day;

Nought to repent of,

Breath be content of,

Fragrant with scent of

Newly mown hay!

BOTH. Night will come soon enough –

Starlight nor moon enough!

While there is noon enough,

Let us be gay!

OSWALD. No grace is in grief, and

No virtue in tears!

Come what may after,

Youth and its laughter

Piercing the rafter,

Gladden the spheres!

DORCAS. Tomorrow we'll sorrow

But now let us sing!

Happy to-day be,

Joyous and gay be,

Plucking while may be

Blossoms of spring!

OSWALD. Each gift of creation

Is heaven's envoy;

Ne'er a bud springeth,

Ne'er a bird singeth,

But to earth bringeth

Tidings of joy!

DORCAS. Oh! list to the message

The hemispheres voice!

„Folly is sadness,

Misery, madness,

Holy is gladness –

Thine is the choice!„

BOTH. Night will come soon enough –

Starlight nor moon enough!

While there is noon enough,

Let us rejoice!

DOROTHY is seen coming down the terrace.

RECITATIVE.

DORCAS. My mistress comes. Thyself thy missive give.

DOROTHY advances towards her.

OSWALD. Madam, I bow.

DOROTHY. Sir, who art thou?

OSWALD. Servant of one whose name I must not tell.

This from his hand – and from his heart as well.

DOROTHY reads the letter.

TRIO. – DOROTHY, DORCAS, and OSWALD.

DOROTHY. Oh, tell me, what is a maid to say?

What is a maid to do?

When heart says „Go,“ and duty „Stay,"

And she'd to both be true?

Oh, tell me, what is a maid to say?

Shall it be rice or rue?

When heart says „Yea,“ and duty „Nay,"

What is a maid to do?

TRIO. Yea or nay?

Go or stay?

To which be false, to which be true?

When a maiden wavers 'twixt yea and nay –

Shall it be rice or rue?

OSWALD. Thou askest what is a maid to say,

What is a maid to do?

I answer, if her heart say yea,

Her duty says so too.

DORCAS. I can but tell thee what I should say,

Tell thee what I should do;

I'd go in showers of rice away,

And leave behind the rue.

TRIO. Yea or nay?

Go or stay?

To which be false, to which be true?

When a maiden wavers 'twixt yea and nay –

Shall it be rice or rue?

Exeunt DORCAS and OSWALD severally.

RECITATIVE and SONG. – DOROTHY.

Why weep and wait? Why hesitate?

Too soon is better than too late!

Ah, yes, I wait; but do not weep;

Thy love has rocked my tears to sleep.

Red of the rose-bud, white of the May,

Why are ye fragrant? Why are ye gay?

Why are ye blithe as blithe can be?

Whisper your secret low to me!

Why do ye droop when day is done?

Is it because ye love the sun?

Why do ye smile through tears of dew?

Is it because the sun loves you?

Red of the rose-bud, white of the May,

That is your secret, tell me not nay.

Sing the old song that for ever is new,

Ye love your love, and your love loves you.

Breast of the robin, why dost thou blush?

Whence is thy music, throat of the thrush?

Why do ye flit from tree to tree?

Warble your secret low to me!

Why do ye roam the sky above?

Is it in search of your true love?

Why do ye build yourselves a nest?

Is it because your love is blest?

Breast of the robin, why dost thou blush?

Where is thy music, throat of the thrush?

Fear not to whisper thy secret to me,

Thou lov'st thy love, and thy love loves thee.

Red of the rose-bud, white hawthorn bush,

Breast of the robin, song of the thrush,

I am as happy as happy as ye,

I love my love, and my love loves me!

Exit.

Enter JOHN MANNERS, looking cautiously about him.

MANNERS. Beshrew the knave! What hath become of him? Can they have laid him by the heels? or may it be, love hath outpaced his messenger? Ne'er have I ventured quite so close before. I greet thee, Haddon! whose historic gates, open to all the world, close only against me.

And yet I love thee, Haddon, every tree and stone; for thou art part of her and she is part of thee. I tread the grass her feet have trod to-day; the blooms that smiled upon her, smile on me; and in the scented breeze, I seem to feel her breath upon my cheek!

SONG. – MANNERS.

The earth is fair

And a beauty rare

Bespangles lake and lea,

Ere day is done

And the setting sun

Dips down beneath the sea;

But never a sun in the skies afar

Bright as the eyes of my lady are,

My lady who loves me!

Where in the shining frame above,

Where in the great design,

Where in the world is found a love

Like unto mine and thine?

Like unto thine and mine, love!

Like unto mine and thine!

When pale afar

Is the evening star –

Sweet orphan of the night! –

Creation sleeps,

But its spirit keeps

Her virgin lamp alight;

Yet never a star in the heavens above

Pure as the soul of my lady love,

Pure as the troth I plight!

Where in the shining frame on high,

Where in the great design,

Where is the love in earth or sky

Like unto thine and mine?

Like unto mine and thine, love!

Like unto thine and mine!

DOROTHY appears on the terrace.

DUET. – DOROTHY and MANNERS.

DOROTHY. Sweetly the morn doth break,

When love is nigh;

Hues of the rainbow take

Landscape and sky;

Gaily the sun doth shine

Over my head;

High heaven itself is mine,

Sorrow is dead.

Ever for thy dear sake

Happy am I;

Sweetly the morn doth break,

When love is nigh!

MANNERS. In my life's chalice, love,

Thou art the wine!

DOROTHY. Now shines the sun above,

Now art thou mine!

BOTH. Hues of the rainbow take

Landscape and sky;

Sweetly the morn doth break,

When love is nigh!

DOROTHY. Kneel not to me!

MANNERS. To whom else should I kneel?

A loyal subject bends before his queen;

And mine art thou!

DOROTHY. Hush! not so loud! Not long have I to stay.

Moments are precious.

MANNERS. When they are with thee.

DOROTHY. Nay, let me speak; for I have much to say.

Our cousin Rupert comes to-day to wed me.

MANNERS. Let twenty cousins come, I fear them not!

Thy word is pledged.

DOROTHY. And 'tis an easy task

To keep an oath one hath no will to break.

But what are vows, if they are vowed in vain?

My father will not hearken to thy suit.

MANNERS. What says he?

DOROTHY. That thou must lay down thine arms,

Ere he will hearken.

MANNERS. I, forswear the king?

DOROTHY. Oh, tell me, sweetheart, is thy love so great

That thou wouldst do this for thy true love's sake?

MANNERS. Great is my love – greater than lord or king –

But there is one thing greater than my love,

One thing that e'en for thine I cannot do,

And that thou askest me!

DOROTHY. Dost thou refuse?

MANNERS. False to myself, I should be false to thee,

And heaven would curse our love; I should not dare

To wear a garland so ignobly won,

Lest with my touch I soiled it. It would drop,

Withered and wan, in ashes, at my feet,

Its perfumes changed to odours of decay.

Nay, sweetheart mine, I will not make thy face –

My noonday sun – my morning, evening star –

A haunting spectre, symbol of my shame!

DOROTHY. That is thine answer?

MANNERS. There could be but one.

DOROTHY. Now am I thine for ever! Oh, my love,

That is the answer I had prayed of thee!

Hadst thou said aye, my love for thee had died.

My word I would have kept: but in my heart

Thine image would have fallen from its shrine.

Thine in the flesh I might have been; but now,

Thine in the spirit I shall be for ever!

MANNERS. All angels guard thee!

DOROTHY. Hark! the tocsin bell!

Farewell, beloved!

MANNERS. Sweetheart, fare thee well!

Exeunt.

Enter PURITANS.

CHORUS of PURITANS.

Down with princes, down with peoples!

Down with churches, down with steeples!

Down with love and down with marriage!

Down with all who keep a carriage!

Down with lord and down with lady –

Up with everything that's shady!

Down with life and down with laughter!

Down with landlords, down with land!

Whom the soil belongs to after,

We could never understand!

Pleasure – we can do without it;

Down with Court and down with king;

And – just while we are about it –

Down with every blessed thing!

Enter RUPERT VERNON.

RUPERT. My faithful friends, you have just been singing, with that accuracy of time and purity of tone which characterize all your vocal efforts, these admirable sentiments, amongst others, „Down with love, and down with marriage; down with landlords, down with land!"

And truly these things are vanities – in the abstract; but in the concrete they possess a certain substance. In the abstract, I, Rupert Vernon, am a vanity.

PURITANS. Yea, verily.

RUPERT. But in the concrete, even I possess a certain substance.

PURITANS. Yea, verily.

RUPERT. These brief preliminary observations will have prepared you for the announcement that I am about to marry and become a landlord.

KILL-JOY. This be flat blasphemy!

RUPERT. I was once of that opinion myself. But ever since it hath become a question whether my title to this highly attractive residential property is not superior to that of my cousin, its present occupant, I have given much attention to the subject. As I may shortly be in a position to keep a carriage myself, I am not quite so persuaded as I was of the necessity of „downing“ with everybody who indulges in that very harmless luxury.

NICODEMUS (lifting his hands). Odd's fish! odd's fish!

RUPERT. I fail to see anything odd's fish about it. Then again, our attitude with regard to the land question – is it quite sound? or is it all sound and no sense?

BARNABAS. There be one land and there be one people, and to the one people the one land belongeth.

RUPERT. Quite so, quite so, my good Barnabas. That is our way of putting it – in public. But this is not the hustings, and as private individuals we know perfectly well that there is more than one people – in fact, there are a great many people; and how is the one land to belong to all of them?

SIMEON. The state is the people. Let the land belong to the state.

RUPERT. Thou art minded that the occupier should pay his rent to the state.

PURITANS. No rent! no rent!

RUPERT. But if the occupier is to pay no rent, then each occupier becomes his own landlord.

PURITANS. Even so!

RUPERT. But in that case, you have more landlords than ever.

PURITANS. So we have! (All scratch their heads.)

RUPERT. Nor is the subject of celibacy as simple as it appeared. Ever since it was arranged that the disputed title to the Haddon estates should be settled by my marriage with fair Mistress Dorothy, my views upon this matter also have undergone a change. I feel the need of female sympathy. Nobody sympathizes with us, and when one comes to think of it, why should they?

PURITANS. Why should they?

RUPERT. It must be admitted that we have made ourselves fairly obnoxious of late. We have been particularly busy, and our business has chiefly consisted in interfering with everybody else's. First and foremost, we have abolished the playhouse.

PURITANS. Grace be praised!

RUPERT. Secondly, we have forbidden dance music in all place of public resort.

KILL-JOY. We have robbed the devil of his best tunes.

RUPERT. But to give that ingenious gentleman his due, he has to some extent circumvented us; for, by the simple expedient of playing the Old Hundredth in double time, he has succeeded in evolving from that venerable air something suspiciously resembling the carnal and pernicious polka. (PURITANS groan.) Thirdly, to the end that none shall profane the Sabbath by enjoying it, or shall imperil his soul by improving his mind, we have shut all museums, parks, and picture galleries, and turned the day of rest into a night of rust.

PURITANS. Grace be praised!

RUPERT. Fourthly, having deprived the populace of all means of innocent recreation, we have compelled them to seek solace in the consumption of strong drink.

NICODEMUS Nay, verily; have we not closed all inns and taverns?

RUPERT. It is true that wholesome and necessary refreshment, either for man or beast, can no longer be procured in an open and honourable fashion; but I can give you my personal assurance that there exist scores of places where any quantity of deleterious concoctions can be obtained in a stealthy and disreputable manner.

PURITANS (with unction). Grace be praised!

BARNABAS. Verily, these be notable good works.

RUPERT. But who's the better for them, Barnabas? Who is the better for us? I will go a step further. Are we the

better for ourselves?

PURITANS (look at one another). Ask us another!

RUPERT. I will ask you another. Are we comely to look upon?

PURITANS. Nay, verily!

RUPERT. Do we not consistently do everything we can to make everybody about us uncomfortable?

PURITANS. Yea, verily.

RUPERT. Do we enjoy ourselves?

KILL-JOY. All life is sack-cloth and ashes.

SIMEON. But our reward is to come.

RUPERT. Are ye sure of that? I have no wish to pose as an alarmist, but suppose we are making a bad debt? After a life spent in the mortification of the flesh, it would be a crowning mortification if it turned out that the flesh was not meant to be mortified; and it would be peculiarly irritating to discover that the flesh was intended to enjoy itself at the precise moment when he had no longer any flesh to enjoy.

BARNABAS. Marry come up!

RUPERT. Well, Barnabas, continue. Let us suppose, for the sake

of argument, that „marry“ did „come up“ – what then?

BARNABAS. I have nought more to say.

RUPERT. Then hold thy peace, and hearken to a wiser tongue than thine.

SONG. – RUPERT.

I've heard it said,

And it may be read

In many a trusty tome,

How, when augurs met

On the parapet

Of the walls of ancient Rome,

As the two passed by,

Each winked an eye

With a candour confidential,

Or stroked his nose –

Which, goodness knows –

But it isn't at all essential.

For every man,

Since the world began,

Had his idiosyncrasee,

And to lunch off a moan

And dine on a groan

With a trickling tear for tea –

Well, it may suit you

From your point of view,

But it doesn't at all suit me!

As I don't rejoice

In a deep bass voice –

Well, it doesn't at all suit me.

Though the world be bad,

It's the best to be had;

And therefore, Q.E.D.,

Though it mayn't suit you

And a chosen few,

It's a good enough world for me.

Examples show

That we needn't go

So far as to ancient Rome,

For it just occurs

Unto me, good sirs,

There are humbugs nearer home.

When you style the spheres

A vale of tears,

Don't you rather beg the question?

Remember, bards,

It's on the cards,

It is nothing but indigestion.

For every man,

Since the world began,

Had his little infirmitee,

And is apt to mistake

What is only an ache

For profound philosophee.

He is not the sphinx

He sublimely thinks,

But a man very much like me!

Not a demon fell,

Or an archangel,

But a man very much like me.

Though the world be bad,

It's the best to be had;

And therefore Q.E.D.,

Though it mayn't suit you

And a chosen few,

It's a good enough world for me.

Exeunt.

Re-enter DORCAS and CHORUS.

FINALE OF ACT I.

CHORUS.

The bonny bridegroom cometh

To meet the bonny bride,

Let all the gates of Haddon

Their portals open wide!

RUPERT and the PURITANS re-appear on the terrace.

The bonny bridegroom cometh –

Your breath together draw!

Prepare to bid him welcome

With a hip, hip, hip – oh law!

All avert their faces at the sight of the Puritans.

RUPERT. Our first appearance is not a success.

SIMEON. Well, not a triumph.

NICODEMUS. A succes d'estime.

BARNABAS. Or less.

RUPERT. Ladies fair, I pray you,

Do not be afraid;

Let us not dismay you,

We but ply our trade.

PURITANS. Do not so disdain us,

We but ply our trade!

CHORUS. Though the objects pain us,

They but ply their trade.

RUPERT. Once we close the portals,

Once we shut the shop,

We're like other mortals,

Out upon the hop!

PURITANS. Out upon the hop!

CHORUS. Once they close the portals,

Once they shut the shop,

They're like other mortals,

Out upon the hop!

RUPERT. I pray you, pretty ladies,

Before this audience ends,

To let me do the honours

And introduce my friends.

Sing-Song Simeon

DORCAS (shaking head). Not an Endymion!

RUPERT. Nicodemus Knock-knee.

NANCE. Sanctimonious cockney!

RUPERT. Barnabas Bellows-to-Mend.

DORCAS. All of them fellow to mend!

RUPERT. Kill-Joy Candlemas.

CHORUS. Enough! enough! we have suffered galore,

We cannot suffer more!

Oh, let's see the back of you,

Every man-jack of you,

All of you sillies and all of you sights!

The sight of old fogies

That blow up like bogies,

And keep one awake in the dead of the nights.

Get away! get away! get away!

They go up in a dudgeon.

RUPERT(to Audience) Between ourselves, I candidly confess,

That I expected neither more nor less.

(to PURITANS). My faithful friends, I do not mind confessing

To all of you, whom I am now addressing,

That, as a lot, you are not prepossessing.

It's no use blinking it!

PURITANS. We were just thinking it!

RUPERT. Ladies, pretty ladies, second thoughts are best;

Pregnant is the proverb, time's the only test.

Come, ladies fair

Beyond compare,

And list to my confessions;

Be warned by me,

And never be

Deceived by first impressions.

ENSEMBLE.

MEN. WOMEN.

Go, ladies fair, Come, ladies fair,

Beyond compare – Beyond compare –

And list to his confessions. And list to his confessions.

SONG. – RUPERT.

When I was but a little lad,

And cake and toffee made me glad,

And high the sun at noon!

My mother came to me one day,

When I was in the field at play,

With jam upon a spoon.

It looked so nice, I thought not twice,

The jam had vanished in a trice –

Quite frank are these confessions!

Alas, the jam concealed a pill

Which made me very, very ill –

Deceived by first impressions!

CHORUS. Oh, joy! the jam concealed a pill

Which made him very, very ill –

Deceived by first impressions!

Quoth Dr. Syntax, one fine day,

„Rupert, I have a word to say.„

(I had just told a cram.)

So tenderly he took my hand,

His tone was so polite and bland,

I followed like a lamb.

But once upstairs his manner freezed,

And all at once he seemed displeased,

As with Aeneas, Dido!

Then, quick as thought he seized a birch

And fairly knocked me off my perch –

Whack, whack, whack-fol-de-riddle-i-do!

CHORUS. Whack-fol-de-riddle-i-do!

RUPERT. Now, ladies fair,

Beyond compare

Be warned by my confessions;

ALL. You surely see

The vanity –

Of trusting first impressions.

Whack, whack, whack-fol-de-riddle-I-do!

Re-enter SIR GEORGE, LADY VERNON, and DOROTHY.

SIR G. Hail, Cousin Rupert, welcome to our heart!

Though scarce we know thee in this habit homely.

RUPERT. It doth not suit me, but before we part

I hope to change it for a grab more comely.

LADY V. A bridegroom's?

RUPERT. Aye, if this sweet maiden wills.

SIR G. This maiden aye her father's wish fulfils.

RUPERT. Cousin fair, to thee I offer

Soul and body, heart and hand.

SIR G. In exchange to thee we proffer

Beauty, duty, house, and land.

LADY V. Husband, hear me! husband, listen!

Let our daughter's heart reply.

In her eyes the teardrops glisten.

If she wed him, she will die!

DOROTHY. Father, hear me; father, listen!

If I wed him, I shall die!

ENSEMBLE.

DOROTHY. Father, hear me, father, hear me;

If I wed him I shall die!

DORCAS. Only hear her, only listen!

If she wed him, she will die!

LADY V. Husband, hear her, husband, hear her

If she wed him, she will die!

RUPERT. Cousin fair, to thee I offer

Soul and body, heart and hand.

SIR G. and CHORUS. If she wed him, she will die!

SOLO. – DOROTHY.

When, yestereve, I knelt to pray,

As thou hast taught me to,

I seemed to hear the angels say,

„To thine own heart be true.„

Heaven breathed a message through the sphere!

Heaven breathes it every day,

To all who have the ears to hear,

The wisdom to obey.

By golden day and silver night

It rings all nature through;

For ever, in the angels' sight,

To thine own heart be true.

Though storms uprise

And cloud the skies,

And thorns where roses grew;

Come sun or snow,

Come weal or woe.

To thine own heart be true.

CHORUS. Though storms uprise, etc.

DOROTHY (kneels). Father, forgive!

SIR G. Rise! to thy chamber, thou rebellious maid!

My will is law, and law must be obeyed.

DOROTHY. Father, forgive!

SIR G. I ask not words of duty, I ask for deeds.

Away, away!

LADY V. She doth but stay

Farewell to say!

DORCAS. Sweet mistress, all my heart is thine!

SIR G. No longer art thou daughter mine!

RUPERT. We are refused!

PURITANS. We are! we are!

CHORUS. Hurray, hurray,

Oh, blessed day!

RUPERT and PURITANS. A plague upon our natal star

We are refused! We are! we are!

ENSEMBLE.

SIR G. Away! away!

My word obey!

DOROTHY. Sir, I obey!

LADY V. and DORCAS. Oh, fateful day!

RUPERT. Dismay! Dismay!

PURITANS. Oh, fateful day!

CHORUS. Away! away!

His word obey!

SIR G., RUPERT, DOROTHY. THE REST.

PURITANS.

Thy duty, with Thy duty, with Thy duty, with

unerring hand, unerring hand, unerring hand,

Dictates the Dictates the Dictates the

rightful way! rightful way! rightful way!

It is a father's It is for conscience

to command! to command!

Dare not to disobey! I dare not disobey! Dare not to disobey!

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

SCENE 1. – DOROTHY VERNON's Door.

RUPERT and the PURITANS are discovered, sheltering from the

storm.

CHORUS.

PURITANS. Hoarsely the wind is howling –

Bitterly bites the blast –

The midnight cat is prowling –

The rain is falling fast –

But what of that?

We'll back ourselves against the howling wind

And the nocturnal cat –

At two to one, bar none.

RUPERT. And not a layer find

Even at that.

PURITANS. Even at that.

RUPERT. The wind falls fast,

In icy blasts:

It's the sort of day when people say

It's much too bad to last.

PURITANS. But it lasts!

RUPERT. It lasts!

PURITANS. It lasts!

RUPERT. My good friend, Simeon, thou who singest songs and art by way of being a musician, tell me, what is thy private judgment on these strains with which it is our habit to beguile our lighter moments?

SIMEON. I'sooth, they be saintly airs.

RUPERT. At the same time, dost thou not think, something a

trifle more melodious –

KILL-JOY. Melody! 'tis the invention of Satan!

BARNABAS. To us hath been revealed the higher law, that discord is the soul of all true harmony.

RUPERT. Barnabas, thou wert born before thy time. Two centuries hence, and thou wouldst be a leader amongst musicians; but as things are, thou art an anachronism.

KILL-JOY. Verily, we are all anachronisms.

SIMEON. But conscience is a great comforter.

NICODEMUS Even in such weather as this.

BARNABAS. Troth, 'tis a gruesome night!

RUPERT (glancing at window). But they seem to be enjoying themselves within. High jinks, within. And why are we out of it? This feast is given in our especial honour, and here we are cooling our heels in this particularly moist and most unpleasant atmosphere, simply because our conscientious scruples will not permit us to countenance such carnal junkettings. But for our consciences we should probably at this moment be enjoying a stoup of something hot –

KILL-JOY. With spice in it! (ALL sigh and gaze at the windows.)

RUPERT. Our withdrawal has not cast that gloom over the

proceedings which might have been anticipated.

SIMEON. But heed them not! We are the salt of the earth.

RUPERT. My faithful Simeon, is not that an additional reason why we should be kept in a dry place? This excess of moisture without and this phenomenal aridity within are beginning to tell upon me. I feel my Puritanic principles are tottering. It will do me a world of good to refresh myself at the uncompromising fount of The McCrankie.

NICODEMUS But where is he?

RUPERT. He is certainly late, but he has a long way to come. The Island of Rum is situate in a remote part of the west coast of Scotland; but between you and me, I sometimes wish it were further. The McCrankie is a Puritan above proof, and a little of him goes a long way – especially when he accompanies himself on thenational instrument. (PURITANS groan.) Let us hope he will leave it behind him. (The bagpipes are heard in the distance.) Oh, this is worse than the weather!

Enter THE MCCRANKIE.

SONG. – MCCRANKIE.

My name it is McCrankie,

I am lean an' lang an' lanky,

I'm a Moody an' a Sankey,

Wound upo' a Scottish reel!

Pedantic an' puncteelious,

Severe an' superceelious,

Preceese an' atra-beelious –

But meanin' vera weel.

I don't objec tae whiskey,

But I say a' songs are risky,

An' I think a' dances frisky

An' I've pit the fuitlichts oot!

I am the maist dogmatical,

Three-cornered, autocratical,

Funereal, fanatical,

O' a' the cranks aboot!

I'd pit a stap tae jokin',

An' I wadna sanction smokin';

An' my nose I wad be pokin'

Into ilka body's way.

I'd use my power censorial

In manner dictatorial;

To naebody's memorial

Attention wad I pay;

I'd stap the kittens' playin'

An' forbid the horses' neighin',

But oh, not the ass's brayin',

For I love the ass's bray!

I am the maist mechanical,

Ofeecious, puritanical,

Pragmatic an' tyrannical

Production o' the day!

RUPERT. So here thou art at last! Thou hast been long on the

way.

MCCRAN. Houts, mon, business maun be attended tae.

RUPERT. Business? What business?

MCCRAN. If thou but ken't how mony gude folk I had made meeserable, thou'd say I'd nae wasted my time. I'd scarce set foot upo' t' bo't that was to hae brought me frae t'Eel o' Rum, when I behelt a sicht that froze me vera blud. A sailor-laddie, gangin' on a cruise, a cuittlin' an' a cuddlin' a braw lassie on t' quay

itsel'!

RUPERT. Perhaps she was his sister?

MCCRAN. Aiblins, aiblins! I care nae boddle! Was I tae staun by an see cuittlin' an' cuddlin' i' a public place? Na, na. Sae I jist steppit ashore an' charged 'em wi' disorderly behaviour. That's hoo I missed t' bo't.

RUPERT. Any more adventures?

MCCRAN. The neist sicht that I seen was some wee bairns singin' an' dancin' i' t' oopen air. I jist gang'd up tae 'em, and somethin' i' ma vera face took the de'il oot' 'em.

I said, „Hae ye a singin' an' a dancin' leecence?“ They said they hadna; sae I took 'em tae t' jile, an' when I left'em greetin' oot their een, I couldna help fa'in on ma knees, an' giein' the Laird thanks for ha'en made a mon sae unco guid as me.

RUPERT. No doubt, McCrankie, no doubt, as a work of art thou dost Providence infinite credit.

MCCRAN. An' ye may say that. T'best day's work it aye did. I aye said that.

RUPERT. But there is one little matter which rather perplexes me, if I may mention it without offence.

MCCRAN. Oot wi' it!

RUPERT. I have never been able to reconcile thy notorious objection to the costume of the corps de ballet with this exceedingly liberal display of thine own personal

attractions.

MCCRAN. Mon, it is saved from offence by the deegnity o' the kilt.

RUPERT. Which is its dignity? That tobacco pouch there?

MCCRAN. Tat, mon, be ma sporran.

RUPERT. Or that arrangement in petticoats?

MCCRAN. Tat, mon, be ma philabeg. Houts, thou doil'd dotard, thou may lauch thy fill, but Scots wha hae nae breeks aye worn, nae breeks sall they aye wear.

RUPERT. What art thou about now?

MCCRAN. Aweel, aweel, I was jist baskin' i' t' licht o' my ain coontenance, an' gie'in' thanks that I was made sae muckle mair guid that ithers.

RUPERT. But, McCrankie, my old comrade, strictly between ourselves, dost think that this exuberant virtue of ours is altogether a matter for thanksgiving? It makes life somewhat dull, doth it not?

MCCRAN (producing flask). Aweel, aweel, life hae its campensation. Here's t' ye! (drinks.) Hae a drappie?

(PURITANS gather round.)

RUPERT. I don't mind if I do. (Drinks and returns flask.

PURITANS cough.)

MCCRAN (puts flask back in his sporran). Hae ye caulds, a' o' ye?

RUPERT. My friends, you may withdraw. The McCrankie and I are about to propound the Puritan programme of posterity, and it is desirable that he should not be interrupted. Withdraw gracefully, if ye can – but withdraw.

SIMEON. As usual.

NICODEMUS Out of it.

PURITANS. Always out of it!

Exeunt PURITANS.

MCCRAN. Hae they ga'en awa'?

RUPERT. They have not withdrawn gracefully, but they have withdrawn.

DUET. – RUPERT and MCCRANKIE.

RUPERT. There's no one by – no prying eye –

MCCRANKIE. Our solemn secret tae espy –

BOTH. So let us plainly say –

RUPERT. Could we create the world anew, –

MCCRANKIE. What we wad vera quickly do, –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. Like Joshua, we would stop the sun –

MCCRANKIE. The thing is vera simply done –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. We'd pit an end ta heat an' licht –

MCCRANKIE. An' bring aboot eternal nicht –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. We'd supervise the plants and flowers –

MCCRANKIE. Prescribe 'em early closin' hours –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. We would forbid the rose to smell –

MCCRANKIE. We'd re-instate the curfew bell –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. No man, in influenza's throes,

MCCRANKIE. Suld be allo'ed ta blaw his nose –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. No cock should crow, no bird should sing, –

MCCRANKIE. Naebody suld dae onything –

RUPERT. Without our license, sealed and signed: –

MCCRANKIE. For we wad dominate monkind –

BOTH. If we but had our way!

RUPERT. We were not, through some freak of earth,

Consulted at the planet's birth –

BOTH. Though we'd a lot to say!

MCCRANKIE. Had we been on creation's scene,

A great improvement there'd ha' been –

BOTH. If we but had our way.

RUPERT. But somehow we were clean forgot,

MCCRANKIE. That's why we'll make things piping hot –

BOTH. And ye the piper pay.

MCCRANKIE. We'll tax ye oop an' tax ye doon,

RUPERT. We'll tax the country, tax the toon, –

BOTH. If we but had our way.

RUPERT. We'll tax ye hip, an' tax ye thigh, –

MCCRANKIE. An' sen' the rate-book oop lift-high, –

BOTH. And cry, hurray, hurray!

RUPERT. An' what becomes o' science, art,

MCCRANKIE. The law, the temple, an' the mart,

BOTH. We naether ken nor care!

RUPERT. We only know, as sure as shot –

MCCRANKIE. Wha pays his scot an' bears his lot –

BOTH. A lot will have to bear.

RUPERT. We only know, our lack of sense

MCCRANKIE. Is inconceivably immense!

RUPERT. And now, we hope, ye plainly see

MCCRANKIE. That ye are bigger fools than we –

BOTH. If we but have our way!

The door is cautiously opened, and DORCAS appears. RUPERT and THE MCCRANKIE withdraw into the shadow. DORCAS comes down the steps.

DORCAS. Not a sound! Not a whisper! Where can Oswald be? This is the hour, and this the trysting place.

RUPERT and THE MCCRANKIE advance – she screams.

MCCRAN. Dinna be frichtened, leddy.

DORCAS. Who art thou?

RUPERT. Permit me to introduce my old friend, The McCrankie, from the Island of Rum – a Scotch puritan of the most uncompromising type.

MCCRAN. An' wha is this braw lassie?

RUPERT. Mistress Dorcas, handmaiden to fair Mistress Dorothy.

MCCRAN. I am richt glad tae mak thine acquaintance.

DORCAS. So am not I. Hands off!

MCCRAN. Hout awa', leddy. The nicht is dark –

RUPERT. And there is no one looking.

DORCAS. So much the worse!

MCCRAN. Sae muckle the better! Thou'rt a sonsie lassie.

DORCAS. Fie on ye! Fie! Ye are a brace of ill-mannered knaves, and ought both to be clapped in the stocks!

TRIO. – DORCAS, RUPERT, and MCCRANKIE.

RUPERT. Hoity-toity, what's a kiss?

MCCRANKIE.'Tis nae vera shockin'!

RUPERT. Do not take the thing amiss!

MCCRANKIE. Lass, there's nae ane leukin'!

DORCAS. Hoity-toity, what's a kiss?

Kissing goes by favour!

RUPERT. And when the kiss

Is a stolen bliss –

MCCRANKIE. The sweeter is the savour!

DORCAS. Upon my word,

I never heard

A statement more surprising!

Aren't ye afraid

Of with a maid

Your conscience compromising?

TRIO. Upon the light

And starry night,

We might consult the latter;

But when the maid

Is in the shade,

It's quite another matter.

RUPERT. Hoity-toity, who's afraid?

MCCRANKIE. When there's nae ane leukin'!

RUPERT. I could ne'er resist a maid –

MCCRANKIE. When she shows her stockin'!

DORCAS. Hoity-toity, man, be mum!

Hast thou had a glassie?

RUPERT. My friend hath come

From the Isle of Rum –

MCCRANKIE. An' thou'rt a braw, wee lassie!

DORCAS. Behave thyself,

Thou Highland elf,

Thy conduct is past bearing;

I thought ye both

Had taken oath,

Frivolity foreswearing.

TRIO. Like every man,

A Puritan

Admires a waist that's taper,

And on the sly

Will wink his eye

And cut his little caper!

RUPERT. Hoity-toity, what's an oath?

MCCRANKIE. Eyes were made for hookin'.

RUPERT. We are very human, both –

MCCRANKIE. When there's nae ane leukin'!

DORCAS. Hoity-toity, things have come

To a pretty passie!

RUPERT. The Isle of Rum

Is a trifle glum –

MCCRANKIE. An' thou'rt a bonny lassie!

DORCAS. Thou horrid thing!

Thou Highland fling!

I'm sure thou'st had a glassie!

I won't by you – (box)

Or any two – (box)

Be called a bonny lassie!

ENSEMBLE.

RUPERT and MCCRANKIE. DORCAS.

Oh, hist and whist! Oh, hist and whist,

Now, don't resist! Now, do desist,

Why make so great a clatter? Or I'll create a clatter!

There's none to see, Do set me free,

So what the d – –, And let me be,

The De'il doth it matter? And cease your silly chatter.

Thunder. Exeunt RUPERT and MCCRANKIE.

FINALE OF ACT II.

QUARTET.

DORCAS. The West wind howls,

The thunder rolls,

But love keeps warm my heart!

Oh, mistress dear,

To-night and here,

Sweet mistress, must we part?

Enter OSWALD.

OSWALD. The horses are saddled and dark is the night,

The stars in the firmament favour our flight;

Each planet its splendour hath graciously veiled;

And the chaste moon herself her effulgence hath paled.

DORCAS. But the planets are there,

Though their glory they hide;

Though a mask they may wear,

They will smile on the bride!

The stars keep their vigil above her;

Oh, Oswald, dear Oswald, I love her.

OSWALD. Ah, happy maid,

A wife so soon to be,

To be beloved

By one so fair as thee!

DORCAS. Not now! not now!

To love's sweet vow

I'll listen all life long;

Sing love to me,

And thine I'll be

And live upon thy song;

But sing not now!

If they should take her!

If they should pursue!

Do not forsake her,

Oh, my lover true!

Promise me, Oswald, promise thy bride,

That if thou leavst me a maid forlorn,

To weep the day that I e'er was born,

Thou wilt not leave her side!

OSWALD. I swear!

DORCAS. Now art thou mine,

For ever mine!

OSWALD. And I for ever thine!

Thunder.

MANNERS (off). Flash, lightning, flash,

And roll, thou thunder, roll!

The heaven crash,

But peace is in my soul;

For love is there,

Serene and blest,

And everywhere

Where love is, there is rest.

Enter MANNERS.

TRIO. Flash, lightning, flash,

And roll, thou thunder, roll!

Thou canst not crush!

Love reigns from pole to pole!

MANNERS. And through the black

Abyss above

Love rolls thee back,

For thou thyself art love.

DORCAS and OSWALD. For love is there,

And everywhere

Where love is, there is rest.

TRIO. Flash, lightning, flash,

And roll, thou thunder, roll!

Where love is, there is rest.

The door opens and DOROTHY appears. DORCAS goes up to close the door.

Exit OSWALD.

MANNERS. Oh, heart's desire

I see thee once again!

I seem to hear the heavenly choir

Sing, life is not in vain.

When thou art nigh, oh, true my love,

Again the sky is blue,

There is no darkness now!

DOROTHY. There is no light,

When thou art far away;

Thine absence is to me the night,

Thy presence is the day;

For when I am with thee, my love

Another world I see,

There is no darkness now!

BOTH. There is no darkness, oh, my love!

Re-enter OSWALD.

OSWALD. The horses are waiting –

DORCAS. And ready am I!

MANNERS. The storm is abating –

Come, love, let us fly!

DOROTHY. Oh, grant me one moment!

OSWALD. The horses are waiting –

DOROTHY. Dear Haddon, good-bye!

MANNERS. Come, love, let us fly!

DOROTHY. Home of my girlhood, so happy, farewell!

I ne'er may look on thee

Again –

Who can tell?

The stars shine upon thee!

Farewell!

Father, oh father, I love thee! Good-bye!

I have tried to obey thee –

In vain!

Sad am I!

Oh, love me, I pray thee!

Good-bye!

A crash of thunder. She falls in MANNERS' arms.

DOROTHY. Why do the heavens roar? Is this thing sin

That I am doing for thy sake?

Ghostly the night!

MANNERS. But calm aye follows storm!

DORCAS. Hush! what was that?

OSWALD. Thy heart thine ear deceives.

MANNERS.'Twas nought!

DORCAS. Again! Again!

DOROTHY. See yonder form!

ALL. Hush! (Pause.)

'Twas but the twinkle of the rustling leaves.

MANNERS. Be not afraid! on my strong arm depend!

DORCAS. See! there is something!

OSWALD. Where?

MANNERS. Amongst the trees.

DORCAS. Yes, there is something moving!

DOROTHY. Saints defend! (Pause.)

ALL.'Twas but the branches swaying in the breeze

MANNERS. Now step lightly,

Hold me tightly,

Creep along by yonder wall.

ALL. Hush, step lightly!

Hold me tightly!

Where the deepest shadows fall.

Heaven, befriend us!

Saints defend us!

Fare thee well, old Haddon Hall!

DOROTHY. Fare thee well,

Home of my girlhood, so happy, farewell!

ALL. Now step lightly,

Hold me tightly,

Lightly let our footsteps fall.

Exeunt, pursued by the PURITANS.

STORM.

As the storm dies away, the scene changes to THE LONG GALLERY, where SIR GEORGE, LADY VERNON, and CHORUS are discovered.

Enter MAJOR DOMO.

MAJOR DOMO. Silence all! Attend your host!

Silence all, and pledge the toast!

SIR G. 'Tis an honoured old tradition

Open house is Haddon Hall;

Welcome all who seek admission,

Gentle, simple, great and small.

Health and wealth to comrades present,

Welcome one and all the same!

CHORUS. Health to peer and health to peasant!

Health to squire and health to dame!

SONG. – SIR GEORGE.

In days of old,

When hearts were bold,

And the prize of the brave the fair,

We danced and sang

Till the rafters rang

And laughter was everywhere!

Our lives were lives of stress and storm,

But through our veins the blood ran warm –

We only laughed the more!

For mirth was mirth,

And worth was worth

In the grand old days of yore!

CHORUS. To the grand old days of yore!

[the following verse appears in the libretto but not in the vocal score.]

In time gone by,

A man would die

For his king and his country's sake;

Then eyes of blue

Spoke a Saxon true,

Who feared neither sword nor stake;

Then laughing love made glad the earth,

And men were not ashamed of mirth,

And loud the table's roar;

For breath was breath,

And death was death

In the grand old days of yore.

CHORUS. To the grand old days of yore!

Ere life is old

And hearts grow cold,

And the autumn gathers grey,

With soul and voice

In your youth rejoice,

And merrily keep your May;

Again let love and manly mirth

And woman's beauty rule the earth

As beauty ruled before;

And once again

Let men be men

As they were in days of yore.

CHORUS. To the grand old days of yore!

Enter RUPERT and MCCRANKIE bearing in DORCAS, followed by the PURITANS.

RUPERT. Eloped, eloped! Betrayed, betrayed!

Abetted by this tricksy maid!

MCCRANKIE. Ech, mon! ech mon! t' dochter's flown!

SIR G. Is this my house, sir, or thine own?

RUPERT. Forgive my friend – let me express

My sorrow for his zeal's excess;

He has only just come

From the Isle of Rum,

And this is his native evening dress.

SIR G. But why has he come –

LADY V. and DORCAS. Yes, why has he come –

CHORUS. Yes, why had he come from the Isle of Rum?

SIR G. And having come –

LADY V. and DORCAS. Yes, having come –

CHORUS. Yes, having come from the Isle of Rum –

SIR G. Cannot thy Gaelic friend be dumb?

ALL. Although he has come From the Isle of Rum.

MCCRANKIE. Eh, mon, eh, mon, ye dinna ken,

T' dochter's gane wi' evil men!

SIR G. What is this tale?

LADY V. I fear me!

RUPERT. This tale I will succinctly tell,

If you will only hear me.

CHORUS. Oh! tell the tale to us as well;

A tearful tale, I fear me!

RUPERT. We were sheltering all

Underneath a wall,

Very damp and most unhappy;

And to keep us warm

In the pelting storm –

MCCRANKIE. We were hae'ing a wee drappie!

PURITANS. They were having a wee drappie!

RUPERT. We said so, friends!

MCCRANKIE. We said, we a'

Were bidin' underneath a wa' –

RUPERT. Very damp –

MCCRANKIE. An' maist unhappy!

PURITANS. Oh yes, we were damp,

And we all had a cramp,

But we had no wee drappie!

DORCAS and CHORUS. That's why you were unhappy?

PURITANS. That's why we were unhappy.

MCCRANKIE. I was bidin' there

Wi' nae breeks tae wear –

An' a kilt's a wee bit draughty!

RUPERT. When one of the boys

He heard a noise –

MCCRANKIE. An' we listened cool an' crafty.

SIMEON (holding up his hand). Please, I was the boy –

Who heard the noi – –

CHORUS (much interested). And you listened cool and crafty.

RUPERT. To voices speaking –

MCCRANKIE. Footsteeps creaking –

BOTH. Then a silence deep and dead.

PURITANS. Need we mention

Our attention

Was bestowed on what they said?

CHORUS. And what did the voices say?

Tell us, we pray!

RUPERT. Hush, step lightly!

MCCRANKIE. Haud me tightly!

PURITANS. Lightly let your footsteps fall –

Lightly, lightly, lightly fall!

RUPERT. Forward I rushed, this saucy vixen grasping!

MCCRANKIE. Forrit I fell, an' crackt a Scottish croon!

PURITANS. Backward we flew, until we pulled up gasping'!

MCCRANKIE. I rose agen, but some ane knockt me doon!

RUPERT. A sound of hoofs against the gravel ringing –

MCCRANKIE. The cluds disperse, that had obscured the moon –

RUPERT. We see a maiden to a horseman clinging!

MCCRANKIE. We were too late –

PURITANS. Or else we were too soon.

RUPERT, MCCRANKIE, WOMEN. Too late! too late! too late!

MEN. Or else we were too soon.

SIR G. What means this tale? Why interrupt our sport,

This intrigue of the kitchen to report?

DORCAS. It means that to-morrow

Thy daughter and pride

Will be, to thy sorrow,

Her true lover's bride.

SIR G. My daughter!

LADY V. My daughter!

ALL. Thy daughter!

RUPERT. My cousin and bride!

DORCAS. Away to the water

They gallantly ride! (Thunder.)

SIR G. To horse – to horse – the fugitives pursue!

CHORUS. To horse – to horse – the fugitives pursue!

RUPERT, MCCRANKIE, PURITANS.

To horse – to horse – but after you!

SIR G. Fleet though the lightning's flash

Vanish from view,

Surely the thunder's crash

Follows anew.

I will, whatever hap,

Press through the holt,

Swift as the thunder-clap

After the bolt!

CHORUS. Fleet though the lightning's flash, etc.

CHORUS. To horse! To horse!

SIR G. Spare neither steed nor spur!

CHORUS. To horse! To horse!

RUPERT, MCCRANKIE, PURITANS. We will bring up the rear!

ALL. To horse! To horse! The fugitives pursue!

Exeunt SIR GEORGE and a few of the CHORUS, the rest gather round LADY VERNON.

LADY V. In vain they will blunder

Through halt and through brake;

Never yet did the thunder

The lightening o'ertake!

NANCE, GERTRUDE,

DEBORAH. Farewell, our gracious hostess,

Of children both bereft;

But love, obedience, troops of friends

Unto thee still are left.

Not ours to break grief's sacred seal

And on thy woe to dwell,

But ours to bend a humble knee

And bid thee fond farewell.

Farewell! Farewell!

FULL CHORUS.

Time, the Avenger,

Time, the Controller,

Time, that unravels the tangle of life,

Guard thee from danger,

Prove thy consoler,

And make thee again happy mother and wife!

Exeunt LADY VERNON and DORCAS.

SERVANTS enter, and extinguish the lights, one by one. The CHORUS disperse, and gradually exeunt, singing: –

Brief is all life;

Its storm and strife

Time stills;

And through this dream

The nameless scheme

Fulfils

Until one day

Through space is hurled

A vacant world,

Silent and grey.

As the lamps are extinguished, the cold light of dawn stealsthrough the windows. The SERVANTS exeunt, and the curtain falls.

END OF ACT II.

ACT III.

SCENE. – The Ante-chamber.

Enter RUPERT and CHORUS, now arrayed in Puritan costume.

CHORUS.

(Aloud.) Our heads we bow, the rod we kiss –

(Aside.) Did ever you hear such a chorus as this?

It's a Puritan notion of heavenly bliss!

(Aloud.) The scales has fallen from our eyes –

(Aside.) We're painfully conscious we're so many guys,

And we're all of us telling a parcel of lies!

(Aloud.) The truth at last we plainly see –

(Aside.) Oh, hi diddle, diddle! between you and me,

Our apparent conversion is fiddle-de-dee!

(Aloud.) Oh, priceless gift! Oh blessed boon!

(Aloud.) It must have been this identical tune

The apocryphal quadruped perished so soon.

ENSEMBLE.

PURITANS (Aloud). CHORUS (Aside).

Our heads we bow, the rod we kiss – Did ever you hear such a chorus as this?

It's a Puritan notion of heavenly bliss!

The scales has fallen from our eyes – We're painfully conscious we're so many guys,

And we're all of us telling a parcel of lies!

The truth at last we plainly see – Oh, hi diddle, diddle! between you and me,

Our apparent conversion is fiddle-de-dee!

Oh, priceless gift! Oh blessed boon! It must have been this identicaltune

The apocryphal quadruped perished so soon.

CHORUS. (Aloud.) Oh blessed boon!

(Aside.) Oh what a tune!

RUPERT. Very good – excellent! That will conclude our lesson for to-day. As a reward for your good conduct I will now communicate to you a piece of information which I feel sure you will receive with feelings of the liveliest satisfaction. The law-suit, which, since the somewhat abrupt departure of Mistress Dorothy with a handsomer – ahem! – with another gentleman – I have

been prosecuting with the utmost vigour, has at last been terminated in my favour. This hall and these estates now vest in me. Though with my usual good taste I have not insisted on the immediate evacuation of my cousin, Sir George, and his good lady, from this day forth I am the Lord of Haddon – I alone. (CHORUS continue reading, taking no notice of him. RUPERT comes

down.) My announcement has not been received with thecordiality which I had a right to expect. I have alwaysunderstood that on such an occasion it was customaryfor retainers, servants, peasants, etc., to break out in a chorus expressive of delight and admiration.

(Glances at CHORUS.) I have evidently been misinformed.

Enter LADY VERNON, attended by DORCAS.

RUPERT.'Tis my fair cousin!

LADY V. Sir, without waste of words, it is not our purpose to intrude longer on thy hospitality. My husband awaits thee in the Eagle Tower, prepared to yield to thee themuniments of Haddon and to say farewell.

RUPERT. I will attend him instantly. (Exit.)

LADY V (turning to DORCAS). And farewell thou. And all of you.

DORCAS. Our hearts go with thee.

LADY V. And ours stay with you – bruised, but not broken. We are Vernons still.

SONG. – LADY VERNON.

Queen of the garden bloomed a rose,

Queen of the roses round her:

Never a wayward wind that blows

Breathed on the bower that bound her;

The sunset lingered on her face,

And Phoebus, westward roaming,

Illumined with a golden grace

The empress of the gloaming.

Never a moon at evening rose

But in the twilight found her

Regal in rest, in red repose,

Queen of the roses round her!

Into her heart a canker crept,

Into her soul a sorrow;

Over her head the dew-drops wept,

„She will be dead to-morrow!„

But still a smile upon her cheek,

The morrow found her glowing

In crimson state, on all who seek

Her royal grace bestowing.

Queen of the garden still at noon,

Queen of the roses round her,

Not until eve the pallid moon

Dead in the garden found her!

DORCAS and CHORUS. Dead in the garden lay a rose,

Regal in rest they found her;

ALL. Smiling in death's august repose,

Queen of the roses round her!

Meanwhile SIR GEORGE has entered.

Exeunt DORCAS and CHORUS.

DUET. – LADY VERNON and SIR GEORGE.

SIR G. Alone – alone!

No friendly tone

To bid my heart rejoice.

My son beneath the sighing sea –

My daughter dear estranged from me!

No kindly voice

To say rejoice!

Alone – alone!

LADY V. Not whilst I live.

SIR G. Why kneelest thou to me?

LADY V. Husband, forgive!

A suppliant I to thee!

'Twas I who urged our daughter's flight –

Oh! how can I atone?

Upon that wild and starless night,

The culprit, I alone!

SIR G. Then it was thou!

LADY V. My head I humbly bow.

SIR GEORGE raises her.

SIR G. Bride of my youth, wife of my age,

Who, hand in hand and page by page,

Hast read life's book with me,

Upon whose knee our son hath slept,

Together we have smiled and wept

Over his grave – the sea.

Until we quit life's chequered scene,

Love, let us keep our friendship green;

Friends we have always, always been,

Friends let us always be.

LADY V. Our years are spent, our heads are grey,

And slowly ebbs the tide away

That bears us out to sea.

SIR G. I print a kiss upon thy brow;

We are too old to quarrel now;

What have I left but thee?

BOTH. Until we quit life's chequered scene,

Love, let us keep our friendship green;

Friends we have always, always been,

Friends let us always be!

Exeunt.

Re-enter RUPERT.

RUPERT. Methought it good taste not to interrupt them, albeit they delay their departure unduly. Sooth to say, the position of my poor cousins is pathetic enough, but it behoves them to accept their lot with philosophy – as I do.

Enter DORCAS excitedly, followed by CHORUS.

RUPERT. How now? How now? Is it so that ye enter our presence?

SCENE.

DORCAS. In frill and feather spic and span,

A gallant is asking for thee;

I told him to go,

But he wouldn't take „no“ –

Oh, he is such a nice young man!

NANCE, GERTRUDE, DEBORAH. We told him to go, etc.

RUPERT. Oh yes, I know that nice young man

He travels in coffee and tea;

And if you're not in,

Leaves behind him a tin

Or a packet of bad Bohea.

CHORUS. Oh, we all of us know, etc.

DORCAS. Oh, sir, he's such a handsome youth!

The nicest I ever did see!

To tell thee the truth

I have never seen youth,

Who was quite such a youth as he!

Exit DORCAS.

NANCE, GERTRUDE, DEBORAH. To tell thee the truth, etc.

RUPERT. Oh yes, I know this self-same youth!

He dabbles a bit in the arts;

He wants you to hire

What you'll never require,

In a series of monthly parts.

CHORUS. He's partial to hours both dark and late,

He has a quick eye for the spoons,

And long will he wait

With his foot in the gate,

In the dusk of the afternoons.

Flourish. Re-enter DORCAS with OSWALD in uniform. He salutes and gives a parchment to RUPERT.

OSWALD. Good General Monk, with others therein named,

Hath entered London and the King proclaimed.

And by his order I am here to claim

This ancient manor, in King Charles's name!

Dost thou surrender?

RUPERT. Nothing! I have said!

OSWALD. So be it, sire; thy blood be on thy head!

Salutes and exit.

RUPERT. Summon my bodyguard! I fear me, friends,

Some evil to my person this portends.

Enter PURITANS, one by one, loafing, with their hands in their pockets.

RUPERT. Why this disorder? this rebellious mien?

Where are your books? and why are ye so clean?

PURITANS. Bother our books!

We all intend

Our evil looks

And ways to mend.

We mean to do just what we like,

So we have all come out on strike.

Eight hours we'll moan –

Eight hours we'll sigh –

Eight hours we'll groan –

Eight hours we'll pry –

SIMEON. But for sixteen we will be free!

PURITANS. And so say I!

CHORUS. And so say we!

CHORUS fling down their books.

DORCAS. We have thought the matter out

And we know what we're about,

And whatever thou mayst do or say,

We intend to sing in chorus

With the gallants who adore us,

And to merry-make the livelong day!

CHORUS. Singing, Tra, la, la, la, la, etc.

RUPERT. To a word of warning hark,

Ere you recklessly embark

On an undertaking so inane

As to dedicate to Cupid

That particularly stupid

And peculiarly weak refrain

CHORUS. Known as Tra, la, la, la, la, etc.

PURITANS. From the point of view of wit,

We are open to admit

It's a silly sort of thing to say;

But when musically treated

And sufficiently repeated,

It's effective in its simple way.

CHORUS. So, sing, Tra, la, la, la, la, etc.

DANCE.

RUPERT. So, the professional agitator hath been at work here. I must take counsel with McCrankie. His uncompromising puritanism will no doubt find a way out of the difficulty.

Enter MCCRANKIE, in breeches.

RUPERT. Odds truth! what means this metamorphosis. (CHORUS gather round.)

MCCRAN. Aweel, aweel, I'll tell ye a' aboot it. I wasna tat weel last nicht, and sae, tae warm my heart, I jist had –

RUPERT. A wee drappie?

MCCRAN. Wha tauld thee, mon? Sickerly! I had ane wee drappie.

CHORUS. He had one wee drappie!

MCCRAN. But somegate I felt waur instead o' better; and sae – weel, I jist had anither wee drappie.

RUPERT. He had two wee drappies!

MCCRAN. But twa wee drappies didna reach the cause.

RUPERT. So thou hadst three? (MCCRANKIE shakes his head.)

DORCAS. Four?

GERTRUDE. Five?

NANCE. Six?

MCCRAN. Weel, I didna jistly coont.

RUPERT. Well, thou wert past arithmetic; what then?

MCCRAN. I'd a fa'an asleep; an' i' my sleep, got crackin' tae mysel'. An' what dae ye think I said?

RUPERT. Mon, I neither ken nor care. (Exit.)

SONG. – MCCRANKIE

Hech, mon! hech, mon! it gars me greet

Tae see thy capers mony,

When nature made the earth sae sweet,

An' life micht be sae bonny.

Why nae accept what fortune sen's

An' learn that earth an' heaven are frien's?

Eneugh o' hanky-panky –

Gie ower thy freaks

An' don the breeks,

An' be a mon, McCrankie!

CHORUS. Thou'st got 'em on!

MCCRANKIE (proudly). I've got 'em on!

CHORUS. Thou'st got 'em on, McCrankie!

At first I thoucht the sudden swap

Was jist a wee bit risky;

But noo they're fastened o' the tap

I feel quite young an' frisky.

Tae show ye jist the sort o' thing,

I'm gaun tae dance a Heeland fling,

An' if ye'll help, I'll thank'ee.

A wee bit skirl –

A wee bit whirl –

A fling wi' auld McCrankie!

CHORUS. A wee bit skirl –

MCCRANKIE. A wee bit whirl –

CHORUS. A fling wi' auld McCrankie!

SCOTTISH DANCE.

FINALE OF ACT III.

Cannonade off.

OMNES. Hark! the cannon! Where to hide us?

Hark! again the trumpet's call!

Friend afar and foe beside us,

Death confronts us one and all!

Cannonade.

The door is broken open. Enter MANNERS, attended by OSWALD and others. Re-enter SIR GEORGE and LADY VERNON.

MANNERS. God save the King!

These from his hand I bring!

Gives a warrant to SIR GEORGE.

Time there was, Sir Knight, thou spurned me from thy gate;

For my revenge I had not long to wait.

Thee, in King Charles's name, I re-instal

The lord of Haddon and of Haddon's Hall.

CHORUS. God save the King!

God save the King!

LADY V. But who art thou that bring

Tidings so glad?

SIR G. Thy name?

MANNERS. John Manners.

SIR G. Rutland's son?

MANNERS. The same.

SIR G. Thou hast done this for me?

MANNERS. For one who bore thy name.

Goes up and throws open the doors.

Enter DOROTHY, whom he leads down the steps to SIR GEORGE and LADY VERNON.

CHORUS. Lo! our mistress! Haddon's pride!

Home the bridegroom brings his bride!

MANNERS. Another gift, Sir Knight, I bring,

With favours from our greater king

Who rules beyond the grave.

To thee I now present my bride.

A lover, I thy wrath defied;

A son, thy grace I crave.

DOROTHY (kneeling at SIR GEORGE's feet).

Oh, father, wilt thou not forgive me now?

SIR G. Arise, beloved! Thou hast kept thy vow.

LADY V. And all things yield to such a love as thine.

DOROTHY. Oh, praise me not; the merit is not mine.

Love breathed a message through the sphere!

I could not but obey;

To all who have the ears to hear

Love breathes it every day.

Now, in the babbling of the brook,

It murmurs to our souls;

Now, through the lightning's fiery fork

Reverberant it rolls.

It echoes through the solemn night,

It rings all nature through;

For ever, in the angels' sight

To thine own heart be true!

DOROTHY, LADY V., MANNERS, SIR G.

Though storms uprise

And cloud the skies,

And thorns where roses grew,

Come sun, come snow,

Come weal, come woe,

To thine own heart be true!

ALL. Though storms uprise, etc.

THE END.

Zur Übersicht zurück

Iolanthe

or: The Peer and the Peri

Dramatis Personae:

THE LORD CHANCELLOR
EARL OF MOUNTARARAT
EARL TOLLOLLER
PRIVATE WILLIS (of the Grenadier Guards)
STREPHON (an Arcadian Shepherd)
QUEEN OF THE FAIRIES
IOLANTHE (a Fairy, Strephon‘s Mother)

FAIRIES:
CELIA
LEILA
FLETA

PHYLLIS (an Arcadian Shepherdess and Ward of Chancery)

ACT I – An Arcadian Landscape

ACT II – Palace Yard, Westminster

ACT I

SCENE. – An Arcadian Landscape. A river runs around the back of the stage. A rustic bridge crosses the river.

Enter Fairies, led by Leila, Celia, and Fleta. They trip around the stage, singing as they dance.

CHORUS.

Tripping hither, tripping thither,
Nobody knows why or whither;
We must dance and we must sing
Round about our fairy ring!

SOLO – CELIA.

We are dainty little fairies,
Ever singing, ever dancing;
We indulge in our vagaries
In a fashion most entrancing.
If you ask the special function
Of our never-ceasing motion,
We reply, without compunction,
That we haven‘t any notion!

CHORUS.

No, we haven‘t any notion!
Tripping hither, etc.

SOLO – LEILA.

If you ask us how we live,
Lovers all essentials give –
We can ride on lovers‘ sighs,
Warm ourselves in lovers‘ eyes,
Bathe ourselves in lovers‘ tears,
Clothe ourselves with lovers‘ fears,
Arm ourselves with lovers‘ darts,
Hide ourselves in lovers‘ hearts.
When you know us, you‘ll discover
That we almost live on lover!

CHORUS.

Yes, we live on lover!
Tripping hither, etc.
(At the end of Chorus, all sigh wearily.)

CELIA. Ah, it‘s all very well, but since our Queen banished Iolanthe, fairy revels have not been what they were!

LEILA. Iolanthe was the life and soul of Fairyland. Why, she wrote all our songs and arranged all our dances! We sing her songs and we trip her measures, but we don‘t enjoy ourselves!
FLETA. To think that five-and-twenty years have elapsed since she was banished! What could she have done to have deserved so terrible a punishment?
LEILA. Something awful! She married a mortal!
FLETA. Oh! Is it injudicious to marry a mortal?
LEILA. Injudicious? It strikes at the root of the whole fairy system! By our laws, the fairy who marries a mortal dies!
CELIA. But Iolanthe didn‘t die!

(Enter Fairy Queen.)

QUEEN. No, because your Queen, who loved her with a surpassing love, commuted her sentence to penal servitude for life, on condition that she left her husband and never communicated with him again!
LEILA. That sentence of penal servitude she is now working out, on her head, at the bottom of that stream!
QUEEN. Yes, but when I banished her, I gave her all the pleasant places of the earth to dwell in. I‘m sure I never intended that she should go and live at the bottom of a stream! It makes me perfectly wretched to think of the discomfort she must have undergone!
LEILA. Think of the damp! And her chest was always delicate.
QUEEN. And the frogs! Ugh! I never shall enjoy any peace of mind until I know why Iolanthe went to live among the frogs!
FLETA. Then why not summon her and ask her?
QUEEN. Why? Because if I set eyes on her I should forgive her at once!
CELIA. Then why not forgive her? Twenty-five years – it‘s a long time!
LEILA. Think how we loved her!
QUEEN. Loved her? What was your love to mine? Why, she was invaluable to me! Who taught me to curl myself inside a buttercup? Iolanthe! Who taught me to swing upon a cobweb? Iolanthe! Who taught me to dive into a dewdrop – to nestle in a nutshell – to gambol upon gossamer? Iolanthe!
LEILA. She certainly did surprising things!
FLETA. Oh, give her back to us, great Queen, for your sake if not for ours! (All kneel in supplication.)
QUEEN (irresolute). Oh, I should be strong, but I am weak! I should be marble, but I am clay! Her punishment has been heavier than I intended. I did not mean that she should live among the frogs – and – well, well, it shall be as you wish – it shall be as you wish!

INVOCATION – QUEEN.

Iolanthe!
From thy dark exile thou art summoned!
Come to our call –
Come, come, Iolanthe!

CELIA. Iolanthe!

LEILA. Iolanthe!

ALL. Come to our call, Iolanthe!
Iolanthe, come!

(Iolanthe rises from the water. She is clad in water-weeds. She approaches the Queen with head bent and arms crossed.)

IOLANTHE. With humbled breast
And every hope laid low,
To thy behest,
Offended Queen, I bow!

QUEEN. For a dark sin against our fairy laws
We sent thee into life-long banishment;
But mercy holds her sway within our hearts –
Rise – thou art pardoned!

IOL. Pardoned!

ALL. Pardoned!

(Her weeds fall from her, and she appears clothed as a fairy. The Queen places a diamond coronet on her head, and embraces her. The others also embrace her.)

CHORUS.

Welcome to our hearts again,
Iolanthe! Iolanthe!
We have shared thy bitter pain,
Iolanthe! Iolanthe!

Every heart and every hand
In our loving little band
Welcomes thee to Fairyland,
Iolanthe!

QUEEN. And now, tell me, with all the world to choose from, why on earth did you decide to live at the bottom of that stream?
IOL. To be near my son, Strephon.
QUEEN. Bless my heart, I didn‘t know you had a son.
IOL. He was born soon after I left my husband by your royal command – but he does not even know of his father‘s existence.
FLETA. How old is he?
IOL. Twenty-four.
LEILA. Twenty-four! No one, to look at you, would think you had a son of twenty-four! But that‘s one of the advantages of being immortal. We never grow old! Is he pretty?
IOL. He‘s extremely pretty, but he‘s inclined to be stout.
ALL (disappointed). Oh!
QUEEN. I see no objection to stoutness, in moderation.
CELIA. And what is he?
IOL. He‘s an Arcadian shepherd – and he loves Phyllis, a Ward in Chancery.
CELIA. A mere shepherd! and he half a fairy!
IOL. He‘s a fairy down to the waist – but his legs are mortal.
ALL. Dear me!
QUEEN. I have no reason to suppose that I am more curious than other people, but I confess I should like to see a person who is a fairy down to the waist, but whose legs are mortal.
IOL. Nothing easier, for here he comes!

(Enter Strephon, singing and dancing and playing on a flageolet. He does not see the Fairies, who retire up stage as he enters.)

SONG – STREPHON.

Good morrow, good mother!
Good mother, good morrow!
By some means or other,
Pray banish your sorrow!
With joy beyond telling
My bosom is swelling,
So join in a measure
Expressive of pleasure,
For I‘m to be married to-day – to-day –
Yes, I‘m to be married to-day!

CHORUS (aside). Yes, he‘s to be married to-day – to-day –
Yes, he‘s to be married to-day!

IOL. Then the Lord Chancellor has at last given his consent to your marriage with his beautiful ward, Phyllis?
STREPH. Not he, indeed. To all my tearful prayers he answers me, „A shepherd lad is no fit helpmate for a Ward of Chancery.“ I stood in court, and there I sang him songs of Arcadee, with flageolet accompaniment – in vain. At first he seemed amused, so did the Bar; but quickly wearying of my song and pipe, bade me get out. A servile usher then, in crumpled bands and rusty bombazine, led me, still singing, into Chancery Lane! I‘ll go no more; I‘ll marry her to-day, and brave the upshot, be it what it may! (Sees Fairies.) But who are these?
IOL. Oh, Strephon! rejoice with me, my Queen has pardoned me!
STREPH. Pardoned you, mother? This is good news indeed.
IOL. And these ladies are my beloved sisters.
STREPH. Your sisters! Then they are – my aunts!
QUEEN. A pleasant piece of news for your bride on her wedding day!
STREPH. Hush! My bride knows nothing of my fairyhood. I dare not tell her, lest it frighten her. She thinks me mortal, and prefers me so.
LEILA. Your fairyhood doesn‘t seem to have done you much good.
STREPH. Much good! My dear aunt! it‘s the curse of my existence! What‘s the use of being half a fairy? My body can creep through a keyhole, but what‘s the good of that when my legs are left kicking behind? I can make myself invisible down to the waist, but that‘s of no use when my legs remain exposed to view! My brain is a fairy brain, but from the waist downwards I‘m a gibbering idiot. My upper half is immortal, but my lower half grows older every day, and some day or other must die of old age. What‘s to become of my upper half when I‘ve buried my lower half I really don‘t know!
FAIRIES. Poor fellow!
QUEEN. I see your difficulty, but with a fairy brain you should seek an intellectual sphere of action. Let me see. I‘ve a borough or two at my disposal. Would you like to go into Parliament?
IOL. A fairy Member! That would be delightful!
STREPH. I‘m afraid I should do no good there – you see, down to the waist, I‘m a Tory of the most determined description, but my legs are a couple of confounded Radicals, and, on a division, they‘d be sure to take me into the wrong lobby. You see, they‘re two to one, which is a strong working majority.
QUEEN. Don‘t let that distress you; you shall be returned as a Liberal-Conservative, and your legs shall be our peculiar care.
STREPH. (bowing). I see your Majesty does not do things by halves.
QUEEN. No, we are fairies down to the feet.

ENSEMBLE.

QUEEN. Fare thee well, attractive stranger.
FAIRIES. Fare thee well, attractive stranger.
QUEEN. Shouldst thou be in doubt or danger,
Peril or perplexitee,
Call us, and we‘ll come to thee!
FAIRIES. Aye! Call us, and we‘ll come to thee!
Tripping hither, tripping thither,
Nobody knows why or whither;
We must now be taking wing
To another fairy ring!

(Fairies and Queen trip off, Iolanthe, who takes an affectionate farewell of her son, going off last.)

(Enter Phyllis, singing and dancing, and accompanying herself on a flageolet.)

SONG – PHYLLIS.

Good morrow, good lover!
Good lover, good morrow!
I prithee discover,
Steal, purchase, or borrow
Some means of concealing
The care you are feeling,
And join in a measure
Expressive of pleasure,
For we‘re to be married to-day – to-day!
Yes, we‘re to be married to-day!

BOTH. Yes, we‘re to be married, etc.

STREPH. (embracing her). My Phyllis! And to-day we are to be made happy for ever.
PHYL. Well, we‘re to be married.
STREPH. It‘s the same thing.
PHYL. I suppose it is. But oh, Strephon, I tremble at the step I‘m taking! I believe it‘s penal servitude for life to marry a Ward of Court without the Lord Chancellor‘s consent! I shall be of age in two years. Don‘t you think you could wait two years?
STREPH. Two years. Have you ever looked in the glass?
PHYL. No, never.
STREPH. Here, look at that (showing her a pocket mirror), and tell me if you think it rational to expect me to wait two years?
PHYL. (looking at herself). No. You‘re quite right – it‘s asking too much. One must be reasonable.
STREPH. Besides, who knows what will happen in two years? Why, you might fall in love with the Lord Chancellor himself by that time!
PHYL. Yes. He‘s a clean old gentleman.
STREPH. As it is, half the House of Lords are sighing at your feet.
PHYL. The House of Lords are certainly extremely attentive.
STREPH. Attentive? I should think they were! Why did five-and-twenty Liberal Peers come down to shoot over your grass-plot last autumn? It couldn‘t have been the sparrows. Why did five-and-twenty Conservative Peers come down to fish your pond? Don‘t tell me it was the gold-fish! No, no – delays are dangerous, and if we are to marry, the sooner the better.

DUET – STREPHON and PHYLLIS.

PHYLLIS. None shall part us from each other,
One in life and death are we:
All in all to one another –
I to thee and thou to me!

BOTH. Thou the tree and I the flower –
Thou the idol; I the throng –
Thou the day and I the hour –
Thou the singer; I the song!

STREPH. All in all since that fond meeting
When, in joy, I woke to find
Mine the heart within thee beating,
Mine the love that heart enshrined!

BOTH. Thou the stream and I the willow –
Thou the sculptor; I the clay –
Thou the Ocean; I the billow –
Thou the sunrise; I the day!

(Exeunt Strephon and Phyllis together.)

(March. Enter Procession of Peers.)

CHORUS.

Loudly let the trumpet bray!
Tantantara!
Proudly bang the sounding brasses!
Tzing! Boom!
As upon its lordly way
This unique procession passes,
Tantantara! Tzing! Boom!
Bow, bow, ye lower middle classes!
Bow, bow, ye tradesmen, bow, ye masses!
Blow the trumpets, bang the brasses!
Tantantara! Tzing! Boom!
We are peers of highest station,
Paragons of legislation,
Pillars of the British nation!
Tantantara! Tzing! Boom!

(Enter the Lord Chancellor, followed by his train-bearer.)

SONG – LORD CHANCELLOR.

The Law is the true embodiment
Of everything that‘s excellent.
It has no kind of fault or flaw,
And I, my Lords, embody the Law.
The constitutional guardian I
Of pretty young Wards in Chancery,
All very agreeable girls – and none
Are over the age of twenty-one.
A pleasant occupation for
A rather susceptible Chancellor!

ALL. A pleasant, etc.

But though the compliment implied
Inflates me with legitimate pride,
It nevertheless can‘t be denied
That it has its inconvenient side.
For I‘m not so old, and not so plain,
And I‘m quite prepared to marry again,
But there‘d be the deuce to pay in the Lords
If I fell in love with one of my Wards!
Which rather tries my temper, for
I‘m such a susceptible Chancellor!

ALL. Which rather, etc.

And every one who‘d marry a Ward
Must come to me for my accord,
And in my court I sit all day,
Giving agreeable girls away,
With one for him – and one for he –
And one for you – and one for ye –
And one for thou – and one for thee –
But never, oh, never a one for me!
Which is exasperating for
A highly susceptible Chancellor!

ALL. Which is, etc.

(Enter Lord Tolloller.)

LORD TOLL. And now, my Lords, to the business of the day.
LORD CH. By all means. Phyllis, who is a Ward of Court, has so powerfully affected your Lordships, that you have appealed to me in a body to give her to whichever one of you she may think proper to select, and a noble Lord has just gone to her cottage to request her immediate attendance. It would be idle to deny that I, myself, have the misfortune to be singularly attracted by this young person. My regard for her is rapidly undermining my constitution. Three months ago I was a stout man. I need say no more. If I could reconcile it with my duty, I should unhesitatingly award her to myself, for I can conscientiously say that I know no man who is so well fitted to render her exceptionally happy. (Peers: Hear, hear!) But such an award would be open to misconstruction, and therefore, at whatever personal inconvenience, I waive my claim.
LORD TOLL. My Lord, I desire, on the part of this House, to express its sincere sympathy with your Lordship‘s most painful position.
LORD CH. I thank your Lordships. The feelings of a Lord Chancellor who is in love with a Ward of Court are not to be envied. What is his position? Can he give his own consent to his own marriage with his own Ward? Can he marry his own Ward without his own consent? And if he marries his own Ward without his own consent, can he commit himself for contempt of his own Court? And if he commit himself for contempt of his own Court, can he appear by counsel before himself, to move for arrest of his own judgement? Ah, my Lords, it is indeed painful to have to sit upon a woolsack which is stuffed with such thorns as these!

(Enter Lord Mountararat.)

LORD MOUNT. My Lord, I have much pleasure in announcing that I have succeeded in inducing the young person to present herself at the Bar of this House.

(Enter Phyllis.)

RECITATIVE – PHYLLIS.

My well-loved Lord and Guardian dear,
You summoned me, and I am here!

CHORUS OF PEERS.

Oh, rapture, how beautiful!
How gentle – how dutiful!

SOLO – LORD TOLLOLLER.

Of all the young ladies I know
This pretty young lady‘s the fairest;
Her lips have the rosiest show,
Her eyes are the richest and rarest.
Her origin‘s lowly, it‘s true,
But of birth and position I‘ve plenty;
I‘ve grammar and spelling for two,
And blood and behaviour for twenty!
Her origin‘s lowly, it‘s true,
I‘ve grammar and spelling for two;

CHORUS. Of birth and position he‘s plenty,
With blood and behaviour for twenty!

SOLO – LORD MOUNTARARAT.

Though the views of the House have diverged
On every conceivable motion,
All questions of Party are merged
In a frenzy of love and devotion;
If you ask us distinctly to say
What Party we claim to belong to,
We reply, without doubt or delay,
The Party I‘m singing this song to!

SOLO – PHYLLIS.

I‘m very much pained to refuse,
But I‘ll stick to my pipes and my tabors;
I can spell all the words that I use,
And my grammar‘s as good as my neighbours‘.
As for birth – I was born like the rest,
My behaviour is rustic but hearty,
And I know where to turn for the best,
When I want a particular Party!

PHYLLIS, LORD TOLL., and LORD MOUNT.

Though her station is none of the best,
I suppose she was born like the rest;
And she knows where to look for her hearty,
When she wants a particular Party!

RECITATIVE – PHYLLIS.

Nay, tempt me not.
To rank I‘ll not be bound;
In lowly cot
Alone is virtue found!

CHORUS. No, no; indeed high rank will never hurt you,
The Peerage is not destitute of virtue.

BALLAD – LORD TOLLOLLER.

Spurn not the nobly born
With love affected,
Nor treat with virtuous scorn
The well-connected.
High rank involves no shame –
We boast an equal claim
With him of humble name
To be respected!
Blue blood! blue blood!
When virtuous love is sought
Thy power is naught,
Though dating from the Flood,
Blue blood! Ah, blue blood!

CHORUS. When virtuous love is sought, etc.

Spare us the bitter pain
Of stern denials,
Nor with low-born disdain
Augment our trials.
Hearts just as pure and fair
May beat in Belgrave Square
As in the lowly air
Of Seven Dials!
Blue blood! blue blood!
Of what avail art thou
To serve us now?
Though dating from the Flood,
Blue blood! Ah, blue blood!

CHORUS. Of what avail art thou, etc.

RECITATIVE – PHYLLIS.

My Lords, it may not be.
With grief my heart is riven!
You waste your time on me,
For ah! my heart is given!

ALL. Given!
PHYL. Yes, given!
ALL. Oh, horror!!!

RECITATIVE – LORD CHANCELLOR.

And who has dared to brave our high displeasure,
And thus defy our definite command?

(Enter Strephon.)

STREPH. ‚Tis I – young Strephon! mine this priceless treasure!
Against the world I claim my darling‘s hand!

(Phyllis rushes to his arms.)

A shepherd I –

ALL. A shepherd he!
STREPH. Of Arcady-
ALL. Of Arcadee!
STREPH. Betrothed are we!
ALL. Betrothed are they –
STREPH. And mean to be-
ALL. Espoused to-day!

ENSEMBLE.

STREPH. THE OTHERS.

A shepherd I A shepherd he
Of Arcady, Of Arcadee,
Betrothed are we, Betrothed is he,
And mean to be And means to be
Espoused to-day! Espoused to-day!

DUET – LORD MOUNTARARAT and LORD TOLLOLLER
(aside to each other).

‚Neath this blow,
Worse than stab of dagger –
Though we mo-
Mentarily stagger,
In each heart
Proud are we innately –
Let‘s depart,
Dignified and stately!

ALL. Let‘s depart,
Dignified and stately!

CHORUS OF PEERS.

Though our hearts she‘s badly bruising,
In another suitor choosing,
Let‘s pretend it‘s most amusing.
Ha! ha! ha! Tan-ta-ra!

(Exeunt all the Peers, marching round stage with much dignity. Lord Chancellor separates Phyllis from Strephon and orders her off. She follows Peers. Manent Lord Chancellor and Strephon.)

LORD CH. Now, sir, what excuse have you to offer for having disobeyed an order of the Court of Chancery?
STREPH. My Lord, I know no Courts of Chancery; I go by Nature‘s Acts of Parliament. The bees – the breeze – the seas – the rooks – the brooks – the gales – the vales – the fountains and the mountains cry, „You love this maiden – take her, we command you!“ ‚Tis writ in heaven by the bright barbed dart that leaps forth into lurid light from each grim thundercloud. The very rain pours forth her sad and sodden sympathy! When chorused Nature bids me take my love, shall I reply, „Nay, but a certain Chancellor forbids it“? Sir, you are England‘s Lord High Chancellor, but are you Chancellor of birds and trees, King of the winds and Prince of thunderclouds?
LORD CH. No. It‘s a nice point. I don‘t know that I ever met it before. But my difficulty is that at present there‘s no evidence before the Court that chorused Nature has interested herself in the matter.
STREPH. No evidence! You have my word for it. I tell you that she bade me take my love.
LORD CH. Ah! but, my good sir, you mustn‘t tell us what she told you – it‘s not evidence. Now an affidavit from a thunderstorm, or a few words on oath from a heavy shower, would meet with all the attention they deserve.
STREPH. And have you the heart to apply the prosaic rules of evidence to a case which bubbles over with poetical emotion?
LORD CH. Distinctly. I have always kept my duty strictly before my eyes, and it is to that fact that I owe my advancement to my present distinguished position.

SONG – LORD CHANCELLOR.

When I went to the Bar as a very young man,
(Said I to myself – said I),
I‘ll work on a new and original plan,
(Said I to myself – said I),
I‘ll never assume that a rogue or a thief
Is a gentleman worthy implicit belief,
Because his attorney has sent me a brief,
(Said I to myself – said I!).

Ere I go into court I will read my brief through
(Said I to myself – said I),
And I‘ll never take work I‘m unable to do
(Said I to myself-said I),
My learned profession I‘ll never disgrace
By taking a fee with a grin on my face,
When I haven‘t been there to attend to the case
(Said I to myself – said I!).

I‘ll never throw dust in a juryman‘s eyes
(Said I to myself – said I),
Or hoodwink a judge who is not over-wise
(Said I to myself – said I),
Or assume that the witnesses summoned in force
In Exchequer, Queen‘s Bench, Common Pleas, or Divorce,
Have perjured themselves as a matter of course
(Said I to myself – said I!).

In other professions in which men engage
(Said I to myself said I),
The Army, the Navy, the Church, and the Stage
(Said I to myself – said I),
Professional licence, if carried too far,
Your chance of promotion will certainly mar –
And I fancy the rule might apply to the Bar
(Said I to myself – said I!).

(Exit Lord Chancellor.)

(Enter Iolanthe)

STREPH. Oh, Phyllis, Phyllis! To be taken from you just as I was on the point of making you my own! Oh, it‘s too much – it‘s too much!
IOL. (to Strephon, who is in tears). My son in tears – and on his wedding day!
STREPH. My wedding day! Oh, mother, weep with me, for the Law has interposed between us, and the Lord Chancellor has separated us for ever!
IOL. The Lord Chancellor! (Aside.) Oh, if he did but know!
STREPH. (overhearing her). If he did but know what?
IOL. No matter! The Lord Chancellor has no power over you. Remember you are half a fairy. You can defy him – down to the waist.
STREPH. Yes, but from the waist downwards he can commit me to prison for years! Of what avail is it that my body is free, if my legs are working out seven years‘ penal servitude?
IOL. True. But take heart – our Queen has promised you her special protection. I‘ll go to her and lay your peculiar case before her.
STREPH. My beloved mother! how can I repay the debt I owe you?

FINALE – QUARTET.

(As it commences, the Peers appear at the back, advancing unseen and on tiptoe. Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller lead Phyllis between them, who listens in horror to what she hears.)

STREPH. (to Iolanthe). When darkly looms the day,
And all is dull and grey,
To chase the gloom away,
On thee I‘ll call!

PHYL. (speaking aside to Lord Mountararat). What was that?

LORD MOUNT. (aside to Phyllis).
I think I heard him say,
That on a rainy day,
To while the time away,
On her he‘d call!

CHORUS. We think we heard him say, etc.

(Phyllis much agitated at her lover‘s supposed faithlessness.)

IOL. (to Strephon). When tempests wreck thy bark,
And all is drear and dark,
If thou shouldst need an Ark,
I‘ll give thee one!

PHYL. (speaking aside to Lord Tolloller). What was that?

LORD TOLL. (aside to Phyllis).
I heard the minx remark,
She‘d meet him after dark,
Inside St James‘s Park,
And give him one!

CHORUS. We heard the minx remark, etc.

PHYL. The prospect‘s very bad.
My heart so sore and sad
Will never more be glad
As summer‘s sun.

PHYL., IOL., LORD TOLL., STREPH.
The prospect‘s not so bad,
My/Thy heart so sore and sad
May very soon be glad
As summer‘s sun;

PHYL., IOL., LORD TOLL., STEPH., LORD MOUNT.
For when the sky is dark
And tempests wreck his/thy/my bark,
he should
If thou shouldst need an Ark,
I should
She‘ll him
I‘ll give thee one!
me

PHYL. (revealing herself). Ah!

(Iolanthe and Strephon much confused.)

PHYL. Oh, shameless one, tremble!
Nay, do not endeavour
Thy fault to dissemble,
We part – and for ever!
I worshipped him blindly,
He worships another –

STREPH. Attend to me kindly,
This lady‘s my mother!

TOLL. This lady‘s his what?
STREPH. This lady‘s my mother!
TENORS. This lady‘s his what?
BASSES. He says she‘s his mother!

(They point derisively to Iolanthe, laughing heartily at her. She goes for protection to Strephon.)

(Enter Lord Chancellor. Iolanthe veils herself.)

LORD CH. What means this mirth unseemly,
That shakes the listening earth?

LORD TOLL. The joke is good extremely,
And justifies our mirth.

LORD MOUNT. This gentleman is seen,
With a maid of seventeen,
A-taking of his dolce far niente;
And wonders he‘d achieve,
For he asks us to believe
She‘s his mother – and he‘s nearly five-and-twenty!

LORD CH. (sternly). Recollect yourself, I pray,
And be careful what you say –
As the ancient Romans said, festina lente.
For I really do not see
How so young a girl could be
The mother of a man of five-and-twenty.

ALL. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

STREPH. My Lord, of evidence I have no dearth –
She is – has been – my mother from my birth!

BALLAD.

In babyhood
Upon her lap I lay,
With infant food
She moistened my clay;
Had she withheld
The succour she supplied,
By hunger quelled,
Your Strephon might have died!

LORD CH. (much moved).
Had that refreshment been denied,
Indeed our Strephon might have died!

ALL (much affected).
Had that refreshment been denied,
Indeed our Strephon might have died!

LORD MOUNT. But as she‘s not
His mother, it appears,
Why weep these hot
Unnecessary tears?
And by what laws
Should we so joyously
Rejoice, because
Our Strephon did not die?
Oh rather let us pipe our eye
Because our Strephon did not die!

ALL. That‘s very true – let‘s pipe our eye
Because our Strephon did not die!

(All weep. Iolanthe, who has succeeded in hiding her face from Lord Chancellor, escapes unnoticed.)

PHYL. Go, traitorous one – for ever we must part:
To one of you, my Lords, I give my heart!

ALL. Oh, rapture!

STREPH. Hear me, Phyllis, ere you leave me.

PHYL. Not a word – you did deceive me.

ALL. Not a word – you did deceive her.
(Exit Strephon.)

BALLAD – PHYLLIS.

For riches and rank I do not long –
Their pleasures are false and vain;
I gave up the love of a lordly throng
For the love of a simple swain.
But now that simple swain‘s untrue,
With sorrowful heart I turn to you –
A heart that‘s aching,
Quaking, breaking,
As sorrowful hearts are wont to do!

The riches and rank that you befall
Are the only baits you use,
So the richest and rankiest of you all
My sorrowful heart shall choose.
As none are so noble – none so rich
As this couple of lords, I‘ll find a niche
In my heart that‘s aching,
Quaking, breaking,
For one of you two-and I don‘t care which!

ENSEMBLE.

PHYL. (to Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller).
To you I give my heart so rich!
ALL (puzzled). To which?
PHYL. I do not care!
To you I yield – it is my doom!
ALL. To whom?
PHYL. I‘m not aware!
I‘m yours for life if you but choose.
ALL. She‘s whose?
PHYL. That‘s your affair!
I‘ll be a countess, shall I not?
ALL. Of what?
PHYL. I do not care!
ALL. Lucky little lady!
Strephon‘s lot is shady;
Rank, it seems, is vital,
„Countess“ is the title,
But of what I‘m not aware!

(Enter Strephon.)

STREPH. Can I inactive see my fortune fade?
No, no!

PEERS. Ho, ho!

STREPH. Mighty protectress, hasten to my aid!

(Enter Fairies, tripping, headed by Celia, Leila, and Fleta, and followed by Queen.)

CHORUS Tripping hither, tripping thither.
OF Nobody knows why or whither;
FAIRIES Why you want us we don‘t know,
But you‘ve summoned us, and so
Enter all the little fairies
To their usual tripping measure!
To oblige you all our care is –
Tell us, pray, what is your pleasure!

STREPH. The lady of my love has caught me talking to another –
PEERS. Oh, fie! young Strephon is a rogue!
STREPH. I tell her very plainly that the lady is my mother –
PEERS. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
STREPH. She won‘t believe my statement, and declares we must be parted,
Because on a career of double-dealing I have started,
Then gives her hand to one of these, and leaves me broken-hearted –
PEERS. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
QUEEN. Ah, cruel ones, to separate two lovers from each other!
FAIRIES. Oh, fie! our Strephon‘s not a rogue!
QUEEN. You‘ve done him an injustice, for the lady is his mother!
FAIRIES. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
LORD CH. That fable perhaps may serve his turn as well as any other.
(Aside.) I didn‘t see her face, but if they fondled one another,
And she‘s but seventeen – I don‘t believe it was his mother!
Taradiddle, taradiddle.
ALL. Tol lol lay!

LORD TOLL. I have often had a use
For a thorough-bred excuse
Of a sudden (which is English for „repente“),
But of all I ever heard
This is much the most absurd,
For she‘s seventeen, and he is five-and-twenty!

ALL. Though she is seventeen, and he is four or five-and-twenty!
Oh, fie! our Strephon is a rogue!

LORD MOUNT. Now, listen, pray to me,
For this paradox will be
Carried, nobody at all contradicente.
Her age, upon the date
Of his birth, was minus eight,
If she‘s seventeen, and he is five-and-twenty!

PEERS and FAIRIES. If she is seventeen, and he is only five-and-twenty.

ALL. To say she is his mother is an utter bit of folly!
Oh, fie! our Strephon is a rogue!
Perhaps his brain is addled, and it‘s very melancholy!
Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
I wouldn‘t say a word that could be reckoned as injurious,
But to find a mother younger than her son is very curious,
And that‘s a kind of mother that is usually spurious.
Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!

LORD CH. Go away, madam;
I should say, madam,
You display, madam,
Shocking taste.

It is rude, madam,
To intrude, madam,
With your brood, madam,
Brazen-faced!

You come here, madam,
Interfere, madam,
With a peer, madam.
(I am one.)

You‘re aware, madam,
What you dare, madam,
So take care, madam,
And begone!

ENSEMBLE

FAIRIES (to QUEEN). PEERS
Let us stay, madam; Go away, madam;
I should say, madam, I should say, madam,
They display, madam, You display, madam,
Shocking taste. Shocking taste.

It is rude, madam, It is rude, madam,
To allude, madam, To intrude, madam,
To your brood, madam, With your brood, madam,
Brazen-faced! Brazen-faced!

We don‘t fear, madam, You come here, madam,
Any peer, madam, Interfere, madam,
Though, my dear madam, With a peer, madam,
This is one. (I am one.)

They will stare, madam, You‘re aware, madam,
When aware, madam, What you dare, madam,
What they dare, madam – So take care, madam,
What they‘ve done! And begone!

QUEEN. Bearded by these puny mortals!
(furious). I will launch from fairy portals
All the most terrific thunders
In my armoury of wonders!

PHYL. (aside). Should they launch terrific wonders,
All would then repent their blunders.
Surely these must be immortals.
(Exit Phyllis.)

QUEEN. Oh! Chancellor unwary
It‘s highly necessary
Your tongue to teach
Respectful speech –
Your attitude to vary!

Your badinage so airy,
Your manner arbitrary,
Are out of place
When face to face
With an influential Fairy.

ALL THE PEERS We never knew
(aside). We were talking to
An influential Fairy!

LORD CH. A plague on this vagary,
I‘m in a nice quandary!
Of hasty tone
With dames unknown
I ought to be more chary;
It seems that she‘s a fairy
From Andersen‘s library,
And I took her for
The proprietor
Of a Ladies‘ Seminary!

PEERS. We took her for
The proprietor
Of a Ladies‘ Seminary!

QUEEN. When next your Houses do assemble,
You may tremble!

CELIA. Our wrath, when gentlemen offend us,
Is tremendous!

LEILA. They meet, who underrate our calling,
Doom appalling!

QUEEN. Take down our sentence as we speak it,
And he shall wreak it!
(Indicating Strephon.)
PEERS. Oh, spare us!

QUEEN. Henceforth, Strephon, cast away
Crooks and pipes and ribbons so gay –
Flocks and herds that bleat and low;
Into Parliament you shall go!

ALL. Into Parliament he shall go!
Backed by our supreme authority,
He‘ll command a large majority!
Into Parliament he shall go!

QUEEN. In the Parliamentary hive,
Liberal or Conservative –
Whig or Tory – I don‘t know –
But into Parliament you shall go!

ALL. Into Parliament, etc.

QUEEN (speaking through music).

Every bill and every measure
That may gratify his pleasure,
Though your fury it arouses,
Shall be passed by both your Houses!

PEERS. Oh!
QUEEN. You shall sit, if he sees reason,
Through the grouse and salmon season;
PEERS. No!
QUEEN. He shall end the cherished rights
You enjoy on Friday nights:
PEERS. No!
QUEEN. He shall prick that annual blister,
Marriage with deceased wife‘s sister:
PEERS. Mercy!
QUEEN. Titles shall ennoble, then,
All the Common Councilmen:
PEERS. Spare us!
QUEEN. Peers shall teem in Christendom,
And a Duke‘s exalted station
Be attainable by Com-
Petitive Examination!

PEERS. FAIRIES and PHYLLIS.

Oh, horror! Their horror
They can‘t dissemble
Nor hide the fear that makes them
tremble!

ENSEMBLE.

PEERS FAIRIES, PHYLLIS, and STREPHON.

Young Strephon is the kind of lout With Strephon for your foe, no doubt,
We do not care a fig about! A fearful prospect opens out,
We cannot say And who shall say
What evils may What evils may
Result in consequence. Result in consequence?

But lordly vengeance will pursue A hideous vengeance will pursue
All kinds of common people who All noblemen who venture to
Oppose our views, Opppose his views,
Or boldly choose Or boldly choose
To offer us offence. To offer him offence.

He‘d better fly at humbler game, ‚Twill plunge them into grief and shame;
Or our forbearance he must claim, His kind forbearance they must claim,
If he‘d escape If they‘d escape
In any shape In any shape
A very painful wrench! A very painful wrench.

Your powers we dauntlessly pooh-pooh: Although our threats you now pooh-pooh,
A dire revenge will fall on you. A dire revenge will fall on you,
If you besiege Should he besiege
Our high prestige – Your high prestige –
(The word „prestige“ is French). The word „prestige“ is French).

PEERS. Our lordly style
You shall not quench
With base canaille!
FAIRIES. (That word is French.)
PEERS. Distinction ebbs
Before a herd
Of vulgar plebs!
FAIRIES. (A Latin word.)
PEERS. ‚Twould fill with joy,
And madness stark
The hoi polloi!

FAIRIES. (A Greek remark.)

PEERS. One Latin word, one Greek remark,
And one that‘s French.

FAIRIES. Your lordly style
We‘ll quickly quench
With base canaille!
PEERS. (That word is French.)
FAIRIES. Distinction ebbs
Before a herd
Of vulgar plebs!
PEERS. (A Latin word.)
FAIRIES. ‚Twill fill with joy
And madness stark
The hoi polloi!
PEERS. (A Greek remark.)

FAIRIES. One Latin word, one Greek remark,
And one that‘s French.

PEERS. FAIRIES.
You needn‘t wait: We will not wait:
Away you fly! We go sky-high!
Your threatened hate Our threatened hate
We won‘t defy! You won‘t defy!

(Fairies threaten Peers with their wands. Peers kneel as begging for merry. Phyllis implores Strephon to relent. He casts her from him, and she falls fainting into the arms of Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller.)

END OF ACT I

ACT II

Scene. – Palace Yard, Westminster. Westminster Hall, L. Clock tower up, R.C. Private Willis discovered on sentry, R. Moonlight.

SONG – PRIVATE WILLIS.

When all night long a chap remains
On sentry-go, to chase monotony
He exercises of his brains,
That is, assuming that he‘s got any.
Though never nurtured in the lap
Of luxury, yet I admonish you,
I am an intellectual chap,
And think of things that would astonish you.
I often think it‘s comical – Fal, lal, la!
How Nature always does contrive – Fal, lal, la!
That every boy and every gal
That‘s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative!
Fal, lal, la!

When in that House M.P.‘s divide,
If they‘ve a brain and cerebellum, too,
They‘ve got to leave that brain outside,
And vote just as their leaders tell ‚em to.
But then the prospect of a lot
Of dull M. P.‘s in close proximity,
All thinking for themselves, is what
No man can face with equanimity.
Then let‘s rejoice with loud Fal la – Fal la la!
That Nature always does contrive – Fal lal la!
That every boy and every gal
That‘s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative!
Fal lal la!

(Enter Fairies, with Celia, Leila, and Fleta. They trip round stage.)

CHORUS OF FAIRIES.

Strephon‘s a Member of Parliament!
Carries every Bill he chooses.
To his measures all assent –
Showing that fairies have their uses.
Whigs and Tories
Dim their glories,
Giving an ear to all his stories –
Lords and Commons are both in the blues!
Strephon makes them shake in their shoes!
Shake in their shoes!
Shake in their shoes!
Strephon makes them shake in their shoes!

(Enter Peers from Westminster Hall.)

CHORUS OF PEERS.

Strephon‘s a Member of Parliament!
Running a-muck of all abuses.
His unqualified assent
Somehow nobody now refuses.
Whigs and Tories
Dim their glories,
Giving an ear to all his stories
Carrying every Bill he may wish:
Here‘s a pretty kettle of fish!
Kettle of fish!
Kettle of fish!
Here‘s a pretty kettle of fish!

(Enter Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller from Westminster Hall.)

CELIA. You seem annoyed.
LORD MOUNT. Annoyed! I should think so! Why, this ridiculous protege of yours is playing the deuce with everything! To-night is the second reading of his Bill to throw the Peerage open to Competitive Examination!
LORD TOLL. And he‘ll carry it, too!
LORD MOUNT. Carry it? Of course he will! He‘s a Parliamentary Pickford – he carries everything!
LEILA. Yes. If you please, that‘s our fault!
LORD MOUNT. The deuce it is!
CELIA. Yes; we influence the members, and compel them to vote just as he wishes them to.
LEILA. It‘s our system. It shortens the debates.
LORD TOLL. Well, but think what it all means. I don‘t so much mind for myself, but with a House of Peers with no grandfathers worth mentioning, the country must go to the dogs!
LEILA. I suppose it must!
LORD MOUNT. I don‘t want to say a word against brains – I‘ve a great respect for brains – I often wish I had some myself – but with a House of Peers composed exclusively of people of intellect, what‘s to become of the House of Commons?
LEILA. I never thought of that!
LORD MOUNT. This comes of women interfering in politics. It so happens that if there is an institution in Great Britain which is not susceptible of any improvement at all, it is the House of Peers!

SONG – LORD MOUNTARARAT.

When Britain really ruled the waves –
(In good Queen Bess‘s time)
The House of Peers made no pretence
To intellectual eminence,
Or scholarship sublime;
Yet Britain won her proudest bays
In good Queen Bess‘s glorious days!

CHORUS. Yes, Britain won, etc.

When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte,
As every child can tell,
The House of Peers, throughout the war,
Did nothing in particular,
And did it very well:
Yet Britain set the world ablaze
In good King George‘s glorious days!

CHORUS. Yes, Britain set, etc.

And while the House of Peers withholds
Its legislative hand,
And noble statesmen do not itch
To interfere with matters which
They do not understand,
As bright will shine Great Britain‘s rays
As in King George‘s glorious days!

CHORUS. As bright will shine, etc.

LEILA. (who has been much attracted by the Peers during this song). Charming persons, are they not?
CELIA. Distinctly. For self-contained dignity, combined with airy condescension, give me a British Representative Peer!
LORD TOLL. Then pray stop this protege of yours before it‘s too late. Think of the mischief you‘re doing!
LEILA (crying). But we can‘t stop him now. (Aside to Celia.) Aren‘t they lovely! (Aloud.) Oh, why did you go and defy us, you great geese!

DUET – LEILA and CELIA.

LEILA. In vain to us you plead –
Don‘t go!
Your prayers we do not heed –
Don‘t go!
It‘s true we sigh,
But don‘t suppose
A tearful eye
Forgiveness shows.
Oh, no!
We‘re very cross indeed –
Yes, very cross,
Don‘t go!

FAIRIES. It‘s true we sigh, etc.

CELIA. Your disrespectful sneers –
Don‘t go!
Call forth indignant tears –
Don‘t go!
You break our laws –
You are our foe:
We cry because
We hate you so!
You know!
You very wicked Peers!
You wicked Peers!
Don‘t go!

FAIRIES. LORDS MOUNT. and TOLL.

You break our laws – Our disrespectful sneers,
You are our foe: Ha, ha!
We cry because Call forth indignant tears,
We hate you so! Ha, ha!
You know! If that‘s the case, my dears –
You very wicked Peers! FAIRIES. Don‘t go!
Don‘t go! PEERS. We‘ll go!

(Exeunt Lord Mountararat, Lord Tolloller, and Peers. Fairies gaze wistfully after them.)

(Enter Fairy Queen.)

QUEEN. Oh, shame – shame upon you! Is this your fidelity to the laws you are bound to obey? Know ye not that it is death to marry a mortal?
LEILA. Yes, but it‘s not death to wish to marry a mortal!
FLETA. If it were, you‘d have to execute us all!
QUEEN. Oh, this is weakness! Subdue it!
CELIA. We know it‘s weakness, but the weakness is so strong!
LEILA. We are not all as tough as you are!
QUEEN. Tough! Do you suppose that I am insensible to the effect of manly beauty? Look at that man! (Referring to Sentry.) A perfect picture! (To Sentry.) Who are you, sir?
WILLIS (coming to „attention“). Private Willis, B Company, 1st Grenadier Guards.
QUEEN. You‘re a very fine fellow, sir.
WILLIS. I am generally admired.
QUEEN. I can quite understand it. (To Fairies.) Now here is a man whose physical attributes are simply godlike. That man has a most extraordinary effect upon me. If I yielded to a natural impulse, I should fall down and worship that man. But I mortify this inclination; I wrestle with it, and it lies beneath my feet! That is how I treat my regard for that man!

SONG – FAIRY QUEEN.

Oh, foolish fay,
Think you, because
His brave array
My bosom thaws,
I‘d disobey
Our fairy laws?
Because I fly
In realms above,
In tendency
To fall in love,
Resemble I
The amorous dove?
(Aside.) Oh, amorous dove!
Type of Ovidius Naso!
This heart of mine
Is soft as thine,
Although I dare not say so!

CHORUS. Oh, amorous dove, etc.

On fire that glows
With heat intense
I turn the hose
Of common sense,
And out it goes
At small expense!
We must maintain
Our fairy law;
That is the main
On which to draw –
In that we gain
A Captain Shaw!
(Aside.) Oh, Captain Shaw!
Type of true love kept under!
Could thy Brigade
With cold cascade
Quench my great love, I wonder!

CHORUS. Oh, Captain Shaw! etc.

(Exeunt Fairies and Fairy Queen, sorrowfully.)

(Enter Phyllis.)

PHYL. (half crying). I can‘t think why I‘m not in better spirits. I‘m engaged to two noblemen at once. That ought to be enough to make any girl happy. But I‘m miserable! Don‘t suppose it‘s because I care for Strephon, for I hate him! No girl could care for a man who goes about with a mother considerably younger than himself!

(Enter Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller.)

LORD MOUNT. Phyllis! My darling!
LORD TOLL. Phyllis! My own!
PHYL. Don‘t! How dare you? Oh, but perhaps you‘re the two noblemen I‘m engaged to?
LORD MOUNT. I am one of them.
LORD TOLL. I am the other.
PHYL. Oh, then, my darling! (to Lord Mountararat). My own! (to Lord Tolloller). Well, have you settled which it‘s to be?
LORD TOLL. Not altogether. It‘s a difficult position. It would be hardly delicate to toss up. On the whole we would rather leave it to you.
PHYL. How can it possibly concern me? You are both EarIs, and you are both rich, and you are both plain.
LORD MOUNT. So we are. At least I am.
LORD TOLL. So am I.
LORD MOUNT. No, no!
LORD TOLL. I am indeed. Very plain.
LORD MOUNT. Well, well – perhaps you are.
PHYL. There‘s really nothing to choose between you. If one of you would forgo his title, and distribute his estates among his Irish tenantry, why, then, I should then see a reason for accepting the other.
LORD MOUNT. Tolloller, are you prepared to make this sacrifice?
LORD TOLL. No!
LORD MOUNT. Not even to oblige a lady?
LORD TOLL. No! not even to oblige a lady.
LORD MOUNT. Then, the only question is, which of us shall give way to the other? Perhaps, on the whole, she would be happier with me. I don‘t know. I may be wrong.
LORD TOLL. No. I don‘t know that you are. I really believe she would. But the awkward part of the thing is that if you rob me of the girl of my heart, we must fight, and one of us must die. It‘s a family tradition that I have sworn to respect. It‘s a painful position, for I have a very strong regard for you, George.
LORD MOUNT. (much affected). My dear Thomas!
LORD TOLL. You are very dear to me, George. We were boys together – at least I was. If I were to survive you, my existence would be hopelessly embittered.
LORD MOUNT. Then, my dear Thomas, you must not do it. I say it again and again – if it will have this effect upon you, you must not do it. No, no. If one of us is to destroy the other, let it be me!
LORD TOLL. No, no!
LORD MOUNT. Ah, yes! – by our boyish friendship I implore you!
LORD TOLL. (much moved). Well, well, be it so. But, no – no! – I cannot consent to an act which would crush you with unavaillng remorse.
LORD MOUNT. But it would not do so. I should be very sad at first – oh, who would not be? – but it would wear off. I like you very much – but not, perhaps, as much as you like me.
LORD TOLL. George, you‘re a noble fellow, but that tell-tale tear betrays you. No, George; you are very fond of me, and I cannot consent to give you a week‘s uneasiness on my account.
LORD MOUNT. But, dear Thomas, it would not last a week! Remember, you lead the House of Lords! On your demise I shall take your place! Oh, Thomas, it would not last a day!
PHYL. (coming down). Now, I do hope you‘re not going to fight about me, because it‘s really not worth while.
LORD TOLL. (looking at her). Well, I don‘t believe it is!
LORD MOUNT. Nor I. The sacred ties of Friendship are paramount.

QUARTET – LORD MOUNTARARAT,
LORD TOLLOLLER, PHYLLIS, and PRIVATE WILLIS.

LORD TOLL. Though p‘r‘aps I may incur your blame,
The things are few
I would not do
In Friendship‘s name!

LORD MOUNT. And I may say I think the same;
Not even love
Should rank above
True Friendship‘s name!

PHYL. Then free me, pray; be mine the blame;
Forget your craze
And go your ways
In Friendship‘s name!

ALL. Oh, many a man, in Friendship‘s name,
Has yielded fortune, rank, and fame!
But no one yet, in the world so wide,
Has yielded up a promised bride!

WILLIS. Accept, O Friendship, all the same,

ALL. This sacrifice to thy dear name!

(Exeunt Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller, lovingly, in one direction, and Phyllis in another. Exit Sentry.)

(Enter Lord Chancellor, very miserable.)

RECITATIVE – LORD CHANCELLOR.

Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest:
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers:
Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!

SONG – LORD CHANCELLOR.

When you‘re lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is taboo‘d by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in, without impropriety;
For your brain is on fire – the bedclothes conspire of usual slumber to plunder you:
First your counterpane goes, and uncovers your toes, and your sheet slips demurely from under you;
Then the blanketing tickles – you feel like mixed pickles – so terribly sharp is the pricking,
And you‘re hot, and you‘re cross, and you tumble and toss till there‘s nothing ‚twixt you and the ticking.
Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick ‚em all up in a tangle;
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its usual angle!
Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eye-balls and head ever aching.
But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams that you‘d very much better be waking;
For you dream you are crossing the Channel, and tossing about in a steamer from Harwich –
Which is something between a large bathing machine and a very small second-class carriage –
And you‘re giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to a party of friends and relations –
They‘re a ravenous horde – and they all came on board at Sloane Square and South Kensington Stations.
And bound on that journey you find your attorney (who started that morning from Devon);
He‘s a bit undersized, and you don‘t feel surprised when he tells you he‘s only eleven.
Well, you‘re driving like mad with this singular lad (by the by, the ship‘s now a four-wheeler),
And you‘re playing round games, and he calls you bad names when you tell him that „ties pay the dealer“;
But this you can‘t stand, so you throw up your hand, and you find you‘re as cold as an icicle,
In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold clocks), crossing Salisbury Plain on a bicycle:
And he and the crew are on bicycles too – which they‘ve somehow or other invested in –
And he‘s telling the tars all the particulars of a company he‘s interested in –
It‘s a scheme of devices, to get at low prices all goods from cough mixtures to cables
(Which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers as though they were all vegetables –
You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman (first take off his boots with a boot-tree),
And his legs will take root, and his fingers will shoot, and they‘ll blossom and bud like a fruit-tree –
From the greengrocer tree you get grapes and green pea, cauliflower, pineapple, and cranberries,
While the pastrycook plant cherry brandy will grant, apple puffs, and three corners, and Banburys –
The shares are a penny, and ever so many are taken by Rothschild and Baring,
And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake with a shudder despairing –
You‘re a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and no wonder you snore, for your head‘s on the floor, and you‘ve needles and pins from your soles to your shins, and your flesh is a-creep, for your left leg‘s asleep, and you‘ve cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose, and some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue, and a thirst that‘s intense, and a general sense that you haven‘t been sleeping in clover;
But the darkness has passed, and it‘s daylight at last, and the night has been long – ditto ditto my song – and thank goodness they‘re both of them over!

(Lord Chancellor falls exhausted on a seat.)

(Enter Lords Mountararat and Tolloller.)

LORD MOUNT. I am much distressed to see your Lordship in this condition.
LORD CH. Ah, my Lords, it is seldom that a Lord Chancellor has reason to envy the position of another, but I am free to confess that I would rather be two Earls engaged to Phyllis than any other half-dozen noblemen upon the face of the globe.
LORD TOLL. (without enthusiasm). Yes. It‘s an enviable position when you‘re the only one.
LORD MOUNT. Oh yes, no doubt – most enviable. At the same time, seeing you thus, we naturally say to ourselves, „This is very sad. His Lordship is constitutionally as blithe as a bird – he trills upon the bench like a thing of song and gladness. His series of judgements in F sharp minor, given andante in six-eight time, are among the most remarkable effects ever produced in a Court of Chancery. He is, perhaps, the only living instance of a judge whose decrees have received the honour of a double encore. How can we bring ourselves to do that which will deprive the Court of Chancery of one of its most attractive features?“
LORD CH. I feel the force of your remarks, but I am here in two capacities, and they clash, my Lords, they clash! I deeply grieve to say that in declining to entertain my last application to myself, I presumed to address myself in terms which render it impossible for me ever to apply to myself again. It was a most painful scene, my Lords – most painful!
LORD TOLL. This is what it is to have two capacities! Let us be thankful that we are persons of no capacity whatever.
LORD MOUNT. Come, come. Remember you are a very just and kindly old gentleman, and you need have no hesitation in approaching yourself, so that you do so respectfully and with a proper show of deference.
LORD CH. Do you really think so?
LORD MOUNT. I do.
LORD CH. Well, I will nerve myself to another effort, and,
if that fails, I resign myself to my fate!

TRIO – LORD CHANCELLOR, LORDS MOUNTARARAT and TOLLOLLER.

LORD MOUNT. If you go in
You‘re sure to win –
Yours will be the charming maidie:
Be your law
The ancient saw,
„Faint heart never won fair lady!“

ALL. Never, never, never,
Faint heart never won fair lady!
Every journey has an end –
When at the worst affairs will mend –
Dark the dawn when day is nigh –
Hustle your horse and don‘t say die!

LORD TOLL. He who shies
At such a prize
Is not worth a maravedi,
Be so kind
To bear in mind –
Faint heart never won fair lady!

ALL. Never, never, never,
Faint heart never won fair lady!
While the sun shines make your hay –
Where a will is, there‘s a way –
Beard the lion in his lair –
None but the brave deserve the fair!

LORD CH. I‘ll take heart
And make a start –
Though I fear the prospect‘s shady –
Much I‘d spend
To gain my end –
Faint heart never won fair lady!

ALL. Never, never, never,
Faint heart never won fair lady!
Nothing venture, nothing win –
Blood is thick, but water‘s thin –
In for a penny, in for a pound –
It‘s Love that makes the world go round!

(Dance, and exeunt arm-in-arm together.)

(Enter Strephon, in very low spirits.)

[The following song was deleted from production]

Fold your flapping wings,
Soaring legislature.
Stoop to little things,
Stoop to human nature.
Never need to roam
members patriotic.
Let‘s begin at home,
Crime is no exotic.
Bitter is your bane
Terrible your trials
Dingy Drury Lane
Soapless Seven Dials.
Take a tipsy lout
Gathered from the gutter,
Hustle him about,
Strap him to a shutter.
What am I but he,
Washed at hours stated.
Fed on filagree,
Clothed and educated
He‘s a mark of scorn
I might be another
If I had been born
Of a tipsy mother.
Take a wretched thief,
Through the city sneaking.
Pocket handkerchief
Ever, ever seeking.
What is he but I
Robbed of all my chances
Picking pockets by
force of circumstances
I might be as bad,
As unlucky, rather,
If I‘d only had,
Fagin for a father.

STREPH. I suppose one ought to enjoy oneself in Parliament, when one leads both Parties, as I do! But I‘m miserable, poor, broken-hearted fool that I am! Oh Phyllis, Phyllis! –

(Enter Phyllis.)
PHYL. Yes.
STREPH. (surprised). Phyllis! But I suppose I should say „My Lady.“ I have not yet been informed which title your ladyship has pleased to select?
PHYL. I – I haven‘t quite decided. You see, I have no mother to advise me!
STREPH. No. I have.
PHYL. Yes; a young mother.
STREPH. Not very – a couple of centuries or so.
PHYL. Oh! She wears well.
STREPH. She does. She‘s a fairy.
PHYL. I beg your pardon – a what?
STREPH. Oh, I‘ve no longer any reason to conceal the fact – she‘s a fairy.
PHYL. A fairy! Well, but – that would account for a good many things! Then – I suppose you‘re a fairy?
STREPH. I‘m half a fairy.
PHYL. Which half?
STREPH. The upper half – down to the waistcoat.
PHYL. Dear me! (Prodding him with her fingers.) There is nothing to show it!
STREPH. Don‘t do that.
PHYL. But why didn‘t you tell me this before?
STREPH. I thought you would take a dislike to me. But as it‘s all off, you may as well know the truth – I‘m only half a mortal!
PHYL. (crying). But I‘d rather have half a mortal I do love, than half a dozen I don‘t!
STREPH. Oh, I think not – go to your half-dozen.
PHYL. (crying). It‘s only two! and I hate ‚em! Please forgive me!
STREPH. I don‘t think I ought to. Besides, all sorts of difficulties will arise. You know, my grandmother looks quite as young as my mother. So do all my aunts.
PHYL. I quite understand. Whenever I see you kissing a very young lady, I shall know it‘s an elderly relative.
STREPH. You will? Then, Phyllis, I think we shall be very happy! (Embracing her.)
PHYL. We won‘t wait long.
STREPH. No. We might change our minds. We‘ll get married first.
PHYL. And change our minds afterwards?
STREPH. That‘s the usual course.

DUET – STREPHON and PHYLLIS.

STREPH. If we‘re weak enough to tarry
Ere we marry,
You and I,
Of the feeling I inspire
You may tire
By and by.
For peers with flowing coffers
Press their offers –
That is why
I am sure we should not tarry
Ere we marry,
You and I!

PHYL. If we‘re weak enough to tarry
Ere we marry,
You and I,
With a more attractive maiden,
Jewel-laden,
You may fly.
If by chance we should be parted,
Broken-hearted
I should die –
So I think we will not tarry
Ere we marry,
You and I.

PHYL. But does your mother know you‘re – I mean, is she aware of our engagement?

(Enter Iolanthe.)

IOL. She is; and thus she welcomes her daughter-in-law! (Kisses her.)
PHYL. She kisses just like other people! But the Lord Chancellor?
STREPH. I forgot him! Mother, none can resist your fairy eloquence; you will go to him and plead for us?
IOL. (much agitated). No, no; impossible!
STREPH. But our happiness – our very lives – depend upon our obtaining his consent!
PHYL. Oh, madam, you cannot refuse to do this!
IOL. You know not what you ask! The Lord Chancellor is – my
husband!
STREPH. and PHYL. Your husband!
IOL. My husband and your father! (Addressing Strephon, who is much moved.)
PHYLL. Then our course is plain; on his learning that Strephon is his son, all objection to our marriage will be at once removed!
IOL. No; he must never know! He believes me to have died childless, and, dearly as I love him, I am bound, under penalty of death, not to undeceive him. But see – he comes! Quick – my veil!

(Iolanthe veils herself. Strephon and Phyllis go off on tiptoe.)

(Enter Lord Chancellor.)

LORD CH. Victory! Victory! Success has crowned my efforts, and I may consider myself engaged to Phyllis! At first I wouldn‘t hear of it – it was out of the question. But I took heart. I pointed out to myself that I was no stranger to myself; that, in point of fact, I had been personally acquainted with myself for some years. This had its effect. I admitted that I had watched my professional advancement with considerable interest, and I handsomely added that I yielded to no one in admiration for my private and professional virtues. This was a great point gained. I then endeavoured to work upon my feelings. Conceive my joy when I distinctly perceived a tear glistening in my own eye! Eventually, after a severe struggle with myself, I reluctantly – most reluctantly – consented.

(Iolanthe comes down veiled.)

RECITATIVE – IOLANTHE (kneeling).

My lord, a suppliant at your feet I kneel,
Oh, listen to a mother‘s fond appeal!
Hear me to-night! I come in urgent need –
‚Tis for my son, young Strephon, that I plead!

BALLAD – IOLANTHE.

He loves! If in the bygone years
Thine eyes have ever shed
Tears – bitter, unavailing tears,
For one untimely dead –
If, in the eventide of life,
Sad thoughts of her arise,
Then let the memory of thy wife
Plead for my boy – he dies!

He dies! If fondly laid aside
In some old cabinet,
Memorials of thy long-dead bride
Lie, dearly treasured yet,
Then let her hallowed bridal dress –
Her little dainty gloves –
Her withered flowers – her faded tress –
Plead for my boy – he loves!

(The Lord Chancellor is moved by this appeal. After a pause.)

LORD CH. It may not be – for so the fates decide!
Learn thou that Phyllis is my promised bride.
IOL. (in horror). Thy bride! No! no!
LORD CH. It shall be so!
Those who would separate us woe betide!

IOL. My doom thy lips have spoken –
I plead in vain!

CHORUS OF FAIRIES (without). Forbear! forbear!

IOL. A vow already broken
I break again!

CHORUS OF FAIRIES (without). Forbear! forbear!

IOL. For him – for her – for thee
I yield my life.
Behold – it may not be!
I am thy wife.

CHORUS OF FAIRIES (without). Aiaiah! Aiaiah! Willaloo!

LORD CH. (recognizing her). Iolanthe! thou livest?

IOL. Aye!
I live! Now let me die!

(Enter Fairy Queen and Fairies. Iolanthe kneels to her.)

QUEEN. Once again thy vows are broken:
Thou thyself thy doom hast spoken!

CHORUS OF FAIRIES. Aiaiah! Aiaiah!
Willahalah! Willaloo!
Willahalah! Willaloo!

QUEEN. Bow thy head to Destiny:
Death thy doom, and thou shalt die!

CHORUS OF FAIRIES. Aiaiah! Aiaiah! etc.

(Peers and Sentry enter. The Queen raises her spear.)

LEILA. Hold! If Iolanthe must die, so must we all; for, as she has sinned, so have we!
QUEEN. What?
CELIA. We are all fairy duchesses, marchionesses, countesses, viscountesses, and baronesses.
LORD MOUNT. It‘s our fault. They couldn‘t help themselves.
QUEEN. It seems they have helped themselves, and pretty freely, too! (After a pause.) You have all incurred death; but I can‘t slaughter the whole company! And yet (unfolding a scroll) the law is clear – every fairy must die who marries a mortal!
LORD CH. Allow me, as an old Equity draftsman, to make a suggestion. The subtleties of the legal mind are equal to the emergency. The thing is really quite simple – the insertion of a single word will do it. Let it stand that every fairy shall die who doesn‘t marry a mortal, and there you are, out of your difficulty at once!
QUEEN. We like your humour. Very well! (Altering the MS. in pencil.) Private Willis!
SENTRY (coming forward). Ma‘am!
QUEEN. To save my life, it is necessary that I marry at once. How should you like to be a fairy guardsman?
SENTRY. Well, ma‘am, I don‘t think much of the British soldier who wouldn‘t ill-convenience himself to save a female in distress.
QUEEN. You are a brave fellow. You‘re a fairy from this moment. (Wings spring from Sentry‘s shoulders.) And you, my Lords, how say you, will you join our ranks?

(Fairies kneel to Peers and implore them to do so.)

(Phyllis and Strephon enter.)

LORD MOUNT. (to Lord Tolloller). Well, now that the Peers are to be recruited entirely from persons of intelligence, I really don‘t see what use we are, down here, do you, Tolloller?
LORD TOLL. None whatever.
QUEEN. Good! (Wings spring from shoulders of Peers.) Then away we go to Fairyland.

FINALE.

PHYL. Soon as we may,
Off and away!
We‘ll commence our journey airy –
Happy are we –
As you can see,
Every one is now a fairy!

ALL. Every, every, every,
Every one is now a fairy!

IOL., QUEEN, Though as a general rule we know
and PHYL. Two strings go to every bow,
Make up your minds that grief ‚twill bring
If you‘ve two beaux to every string.

ALL. Though as a general rule, etc.

LORDCH. Up in the sky,
Ever so high,
Pleasures come in endless series;
We will arrange
Happy exchange –
House of Peers for House of Peris!

ALL. Peris, Peris, Peris,
House of Peers for House of Peris!

LORDS CH., Up in the air, sky-high, sky-high,
MOUNT., Free from Wards in Chancery,
and TOLL. I/He will be surely happier, for
I‘m/He‘s such a susceptible Chancellor.

ALL. Up in the air, etc.

CURTAIN

Zur Übersicht zurück

Ivanhoe

a Romantic Opera
adapted from Sir Walter Scott‘s novel

Words by Julian Sturgis
Music by Arthur Sullivan

Dedicated by special permission to Her Most Gracious Majesty THE QUEEN, at whose suggestion this work was written in gratefulack nowledgement of Her Majesty‘s kindly encouragement, by herhumble and devoted Subject and Servant, Arthur Sullivan.

first produced at the Royal English Opera, Cambridge Circus, London, under the management of Mr. R. D‘Oyly Carte, three inaugural performances, conducted by the Composer, being given on
Saturday, January 31, 1891, Monday, February 2, 1891, andWednesday, February 4, 1891.

The opera produced under the direction of the Composer.
The stage management by Mr. Hugh Moss.
Musical Director Mr. Franois Cellier.
Conductors Messrs. Franois Cellier and Ernest Ford.
The Stage and Stage Machinery by Mr. W.P. Dando.

Dramatis Personae

Richard Coeur-de-Leon, King of England (disguised as the BlackKnight)
Prince John
Sir Brian de Bois Guilbert (Commander of the Order of the KnightsTemplar)
Maurice de Bracy
Lucas de Beaumanoir (Grand Master of the Templars)
Cedric the Saxon (Thane of Rotherwood)
Wilfred, Knight of Ivanhoe (his son, disguised as a Palmer)
Friar Tuck
Isaac of York
Locksley
The Squire
The Lady Rowena (ward of Cedric)
Ulrica
Rebecca (daughter of Isaac of York)

Act I.
scene 1. The Hall of Rotherwood.
scene 2. An Ante-room in Rotherwood.
scene 3. The Lists at Ashby-de-la-Zouche.

Act II.
scene 1. The Forest. Friar Tuck‘s Hut at Copmanhurst.
scene 2. Passage Way in the Castle of Torquilstone.
scene 3. Turret Chamber in Torquilstone.

Act III.
scene 1. Room in Torquilstone. The Assault. The Burning of the Castle.
scene 2. The Forest.
scene 3. The Preceptory at Templestowe.

ACT I.

Scene I. The Hall of CEDRIC. Evening. At the high table stands
CEDRIC. His men are making ready for supper.

CEDRIC. Each day this realm of England faints and fails.
The King is wandering who knows where; his knights,
His Norman knights like robbers waste the land,
And drive our herds within their castle walls.
O Wilfred, O my son, O Ivanhoe,
Hadst thou not crossed my will and flouted me,
Daring to raise thine eyes to my Royal ward,
I had not been left a lonely man
Amid these thieving Normans.
Alone am I: I have no son. (A knocking at the gate.)
Who knocks? Out, knaves, and see! And now to supper.
To all, Was hael! (He drinks.)
MEN (getting to the table). Was hael! Drink hael!
Supper and song so runs the stave;
Supper and song for knight and knave;
Drink deep, drink deep!
Eat, drink, and sleep
Till daylight peep!
Drink to the house of Cedric!
Hoch! the house of Cedric!
Drink hael! Was hael!
Hoch! Hoch! Was hael!

Enter ISAAC.

ISAAC. Good Thane, most noble Thane, I pray
For food and shelter from the night.
Isaac of York am I,
MEN. A Jew?
ISAAC. A Jew, but poor,
And poorest shelter all I dare to ask.
CEDRIC. Not even one of thine accursed race
Must fail our Saxon hospitality!
To supper with what greed thou hast!

A knocking at the gates.

Now heaven keep me cool! What bolder knaves
Break in upon us with untimely din?
Go, some of you, and see who knock so loud.

Enter DE BRACY‘S SQUIRE.

SQUIRE. Brian de Bois Guilbert,
Knight of the Holy Order of the Temple,
And the most valiant Lord, Maurice de Bracy,
Journeying to the tourney,
Now to be held at Ashby de la Zouch,
By order of their Royal Lord, Prince John
Ask food and shelter of the Saxon Thane,
Cedric of Rotherwood.
CEDRIC. What cockrel crows so loud?
Go and lead these knights
Within the hall: (exit SQUIRE.) A better welcome were it
If I might meet these Normans sword in hand.

Enter the Knights, with Attendants, and with them IVANHOE in Palmer‘s dress.

Welcome, Sir Knights!
Welcome, Sir Knights! I pray ye pardon me
For lack of Norman courtesy.
Sit ye beside me here,
And fall to supper to our Saxon fare.

As the Knights sit, IVANHOE goes aside.

DE BRACY. I see but one thing ranting to our fare,
And that the fairest fair, thy beauteous ward.
I do assure thee, Brian, England knows
No lovelier lady than this Saxon rose.
My friend and I had wager by the way,
No Syrian damsel fair
Nor courtly lady gay
Might with thy ward compare.
Was it not so, Sir Templar?
BRIAN. Since I took ship from Palestine,
I have seen but one fair maid to vie
With the soft almond eyes of Syrian girls,
And she was Jewess-born.
ISAAC (apart). Jehovah guard
Our daughters from the Temple!
DE BRACY. And I‘ll warrant me,
From all the country
Come throngs of suitors
To the fair Rowena!
CEDRIC. My friends and neighbours know
That if the lady deign to wed,
Her mate must be of Royal Saxon blood,
As she is Royal and Saxon.

The doors are thrown open.

WOMEN (behind the scenes). Room for the Lady Rowena!

All rise as ROWENA comes in. She takes her place at the high table. Before the bold looks of the Knights she draws her veil across her face.

MEN. More light is there for lord and thrall,
When lady fair comes into hall.

BRIAN. Forgive, fair maid, the votaries of the sun,
That on thy beauty they too boldly gaze;
Or, if thou need‘st must veil, declare it done,
To save our eyes from those celestial rays.
ROWENA. Fair knight, I pray thee of thy courtesy
Speak simple truth in homely maiden‘s praise;
My tongue was never framed to vie with thee
In compliment or courtly Norman phrase.

As BRIAN bows and touches his cup with his lips, CEDRIC starts to
his feet, cup in hand.

CEDRIC. Drink, drink ye all
In this our ancient hall
To the bold deeds of heroes long ago,
To those who fight and those who fall
Where battles ebb and flow!
Well do I mind the day
When I have seen the armies in array,
And the earth shook with horsemen, and the sword
Leapt from the scabbard at my armed side,
And loud the ravens cried
At scent of blood.

Drink to the brave, or boor or lord!
Drink to the warrior‘s noble mood,
The battle glory and the minstrel‘s song!
But now, ah me! gone is the ancient fame
And fair-haired warrior strong,
The Saxon glory and the Saxon name.
Then fill the cup, fill high,
MEN. Fill the cup, fill high!
CEDRIC. And drink to those who strive, and those who die,
Saxon or Norman. fighting for the Cross!
MEN. Glory to those who fight for the true Cross!

DE BRACY. Glory to those who battle for the Cross,
And most to those, the bravest and the best,
Wonder of land and sea, of east and west,
Knights of the Holy Order of the Temple. (He
pledges BRIAN.)
MEN. Glory to those who battle for the Cross!
Glory to those who fight or fail
Who win the prize or bear the loss!
Drink hael! Was hael! Drink hael!

ENSEMBLE.
BRIAN, DE BRACY, MEN. Glory to those who fight for
the true Cross!
CEDRIC. Fill the cup, fill high,
Fill the cup, fill high,
Glory to those who battle
for the Cross!

ALL. Glory to those who fight for the true Cross!

ROWENA. Were there no English knights in Palestine,
No children of our happy woods and hills,
Who might compare even with the Temple Knights?
BRIAN. Fair lady, with King Richard throve,
Full many a gallant knight and strong;
Well worthy minstrels‘ song
And lady‘s love,
And second only to our Temple Knights.
IVANHOE. Second to none!

A silence. Then a general movement of excitement.

MEN. The Palmer! the holy Palmer!
Hear him! hear him! (CEDRIC motions them to silence.)
IVANHOE. Second to none were good King Richard‘s men;
I tell but what mine eyes have seen.
After, the taking of St. Jean d‘Acre
I saw King Richard and his chosen knights,
A gallant show as ever eyes did see,
Hold tourney ‚gainst all comers:
And all that came went down before their arms,
Templars and all Brian de Bois Guilbert,
Bear witness if I lie.

BRIAN rises to speak, but fury stops him; he lays hand on sword.

MEN. The English knights, the English knights,
To them the prize of song and story!
The champions of a thousand fights,
To them the glory!
Hail to King Richard and his English knights!

CEDRIC. Their names, their names, good Palmer!
IVANHOE. King Richard, first in rank and glory;
The second, the Earl of Leicester
The third, Sir Thomas Multon.
CEDRIC. A Saxon he!
IVANHOE. The fourth, Sir Foulk Doilly.
CEDRIC. A Saxon mother bore him. And the next?
IVANHOE. Sir Edwin Turneham.
CEDRIC. By the soul of Hengist
Saxon by sire and dame!
The last! the last! Pray he be Saxon too.
IVANHOE. The last I cannot call to mind,
Perchance he was of lesser fame
Some nameless knight, whom happy chance
Made one of that high company.
BRIAN. Not so, by heaven!
Before no nameless knight I fell.
‚Twas my horse‘s fault he is food for dogs ere this

And yet I fell before as stout a lance
As Richard led.
CEDRIC and MEN. His name? His name?
BRIAN. Wilfred of Ivanhoe!

A movement in hall. A clash of steel is heard as men spring to
their feet. CEDRIC throws up his arm, and there is silence.

I have named his name, and were he here,
I‘d challenge him with sword or spear!
IVANHOE. And, when he come, I pledge my troth
He will abide thy challenge.
BRIAN. And who art thou,
A beggarly and wandering knave,
That thou shouldst answer for the brave?
Show me thy pledge, thou graceless pilgrim.
IVANHOE. This holy relic here I lay
As pledge that he will meet thee on thy day,
On horseback or on foot, with spear or sword.
And God defend the right!
BRIAN. By this gold chain, which here I lay,
I swear to meet this Ivanhoe
On horse or foot, with sword or spear,
Come when he may.
And if, being come to English ground,
He answer not my challenge, he shall be
Coward and traitor to the name of Knight.

Movement in hall. Silence. Then ROWENA speaks.

ROWENA. No word for Ivanhoe! Then I will speak
And pledge my word no coward knight is he,
But brave and true. And if he come again
He will abide thy challenge in the lists.
And God defend the right!
MEN. Rowena! Rowena! All hail to our Lady Rowena!
Wilfred! Wilfred! Our Lord of Ivanhoe!
CEDRIC. Peace, peace, I say! Can I not speak if need be?
Be silent, churls! My Norman guests,
Ye do no honour to our Saxon cups.
I pledge ye once again.
DE BRACY. I‘ll drink no more.
Thy Saxon cups are potent, and to-morrow
We must be stirring with the birds‘ first song.
CEDRIC. Then fare ye well! Good rest be yours!
My servants will attend ye.
Good night to all! Good night to all!
ROWENA. A kind good night to all!

Exit ROWENA, followed by CEDRIC.

DE BRACY. Is she not fair? And she is rich withal,
A bride that‘s worth the winning.
Were it not rare to seize her, as they come
From the lists at Ashby? A score of my free-lances,
And thou, my Templar, with thy dusky knaves,
And it were done. Wilt swoop with me, my falcon?
BRIAN. Aye, that will I!
By good St. Denis, it would like me well
To drive these Saxon hogs and prick them home
To Norman keeping! More of this anon.
DE BRACY. Aye, when the tourney‘s done.
Good night, most noble comrade,
Good dreams attend thee!
BRIAN. Good night!

Exeunt Knights, attended.

MEN. And so to sleep
Till lagging daylight peep.
So ends the song,
With sleep till daylight peep.

Scene II. An Ante-Room in CEDRIC‘s House.

Enter ROWENA.

ROWENA. O moon, art thou clad in silver mail
Like armour of my true knight;
O moon, is my lover‘s face so pale
As thy wan light?
Shine fair on my lover‘s tent, that is white by the whiter foam,
And woo him away from the South to the woods of his Island home!

O wind, that awakest soft and low
Where the heart o‘ the wood is stirred,
Far over the dreaming waters go
Like wild sea-bird;
And pause at my lover‘s tent, in the land that is far away,
And whisper the words of love, the words that I dare not
say!

Her women bring in IVANHOE. He kneels at her feet.

ROWENA. Rise, holy Palmer! ‚Tis not meet
That thou shouldst kneel to me.
He who defends the absent should stand high
In Cedric‘s hall.
Good Palmer, thou didst speak of one I knew
In days gone by.
I must be brief. I would but ask of thee
Thou knowest him hast seen him? He is well?
I speak of Ivanhoe.
IVANHOE. Ah, lady fair!
I knew but little of the knight
I would ‚twere more, since thou cost care
To hear of him.
ROWENA. Is he much changed?
IVANHOE. Burnt by Syrian suns,
And somewhat worn by war; but that‘s not much
‚Tis said he bears some sorrow at the heart.
ROWENA. Is he not happy, then?
IVANHOE. Ah, what know I?
Perchance forgive me, if I speak too bold
Thou knowest best his chance of happiness.
ROWENA. God keep him safe, and bring the wanderer home!
IVANHOE. Amen to that sweet prayer!

ROWENA. If thou dost see him,
Tell him there are those
That think on him.
IVANHOE. And shall I bid him hope?
ROWENA. Hope is for all the world.
IVANHOE. But not for him.
ROWENA. Hope is for all the world a distant light,
Now lost, now seen above a restless sea,
Sound of a string we follow with delight
To utmost melody.
IVANHOE. Ah! then if he beyond the ocean foam
Stare like a ghost across the barren sea,
Yet may he hope some day for welcome home,
For home, perchance for thee.
ROWENA. Hope is for all the world.
IVANHOE. Yet may he hope some day for welcome home,
BOTH. Ah! Hope is for all the world,
IVANHOE. So may he hope.
ROWENA. Hope is for all the world

ENSEMBLE.
ROWENA. Sound of a string we follow with delight
To utmost melody.
IVANHOE. So may he hope,
For home, perchance for thee.

ROWENA. I do believe that he will come again,
And yet I fear.
I would speak further with thee, but not now.
I thank thee, holy Palmer, and farewell.
IVANHOE. Farewell, most gentle lady.
BOTH. Farewell.

Exit ROWENA with her women.

IVANHOE. Like mountain lark my spirit upward springs,
And with quick pulsing wings
Beats the still air to music. O my heart,
Beat not too wild for thinking on my dear!
But if we two must part,
For day or week or year,
Yet now I know my dear love loveth me,
And happy shall we be
Ere death close all, and life be ended here.

(Calling low at a door) Isaac! Isaac, I say!

Enter ISAAC.

Thou must away with me, and quickly.
Hearken! I heard the Templar bid his slaves
To seize thee on the road to-morrow morn,
And bear thee to the keep of Torquilstone.
ISAAC. Of Torquilstone! O name of dread!
Castle of torment!
Woe‘s me! I feel their irons tear my flesh!
I will away good youth, dear youth, befriend me;
I will reward thee well nay, hear me!
The Jew hath eyes, and holy Palmer‘s frock
Sways to a knightly stride. A horse and armour?
Said I not well? A horse and goodly arms!
IVANHOE. A wizard thou to guess so well!
The sword and spear, the sword and spear!
Grant me these, Jew, and do not fear,
But I will bring thee safe anon
Through all thy foes of Babylon.
Away, away with me!
ISAAC. Aye, I will follow thee.
IVANHOE. On to the lists at Ashby with good cheer! (Theysteal out.)

Scene III.

One end of the lists at Ashby. Second day of the tournament. High
seats are prepared for PRINCE JOHN and for ROWENA, who has been
chosen Queen of Love and Beauty on the first day. CEDRIC is in
his place in a gallery, where are other Norman knights and
ladies, and few Saxons of wealth and rank. In the crowd are the
FRIAR and LOCKSLEY.

SOPRANOS. Will there be no more fighting?
TENORS. They are too strong, the challengers.
BASSES. All have gone down before them!
SOPRANOS. Who comes here?
BASSES. The Black Knight!
TENORS. The Black Knight
ALL. The Black Knight!
BASSES. He won the prize of yesterday!
ALL. Hail to the Black Knight!
Hail to the great unknown!
Hail to the sable warrior!
Hail to the Black Knight!

Enter the KING disguised as the BLACK KNIGHT. He is on foot,
walking down the lists, as if to go.

FRIAR. Whither away, Sir Sluggard? Hola!
Get thee to horse and strike the Templar‘s shield!
Don‘t steal so coward-like away. Hola!
Hola! I say, Sir Sluggard.
KING. What bull-frog croaks so loud?
FRIAR. Bull-frog, quotha!
You‘d find me a stout ox, if you would throw me.
Hast had too much of fighting?
KING. Enough to satisfy a peaceful friar.
ALL (laughing). Ha, ha, ha, ha!
FRIAR. Thou knight of courtesy,
Thy dam will warrant thee
A very peaceful knight,
CHORUS. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
FRIAR. A very peaceful knight.
KING. I am a man of peace, tis true;
But if thou anger me, I‘ll come
And fright thee in thy woodland home.
I know thee, hermit,
And if I come to thee, thou need‘st not fear
But I wilt baste thy fat sides well!
CROWD. Ha, ha, ha, ha! the knight has spoken well:
Ha, ha, ha, ha! To him, friar, book and bell!
FRIAR. And by St. Dunstan, if thou come
I‘ll send thy long legs limping home.
Come thou my way, and heaven give light,
And I will fight thee day and night;
With any weapon I‘ll not fail,
From Gideon‘s sword to Jael‘s tenpenny nail.
ALL. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
KING. Well said, old hart of grease, and fare thee well,
Till I ask lodging of thee.
FRIAR. Aye, lodging shalt thou have, and hermit‘s fare;
I love thee though I‘ll beat thee.
KING. Farewell, most warlike friar!
FRIAR. Farewell, most peaceful knight!
ALL. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Exit the KING.

A flourish of trumpets. Enter down the lists PRINCE JOHN, DE
BRACY, and gay companions; also ROWENA, as Queen of Beauty, with
youths and maidens.

CHORUS. Plantagenesta!
Hail the lords of land and sea,
England and fair Normandy!
Plantagenesta!
SOPRANOS. Fair and lovely is the may
Blushing ‚neath the kiss of day;
Lovelier, fairer blooms the rose
Dreaming in the garden close;
Fairest, loveliest is the bloom
Of the golden-gloried broom.
TENORS AND BASSES. Set the rose above the may;
Set the broom above the rose;
Where the golden beauty glows,
Glorious as the pomp of day,
High above the rose be set
Golden broom, Plantagenet!
Plantagenesta!
Hail to the golden broom! Hail!

ENSEMBLE.
WOMEN. Fair and lovely is the may, etc.
MEN. Set the rose above the may, etc.

ALL. Lords o‘ the land, and Kings o‘ the sounding sea,
Princes of England and of Normandy!
Plantagenesta
Hail to the golden broom! Hail!

ISAAC is pushing forward in the crowd. With him is REBECCA.

JOHN. Isaac, my Jew, my purse of Gold,
Hail, King of Brokers! (ISAAC bends low.)
Ah! what hast thou there? A maid
More priceless than thy gold!
Shall she be crushed in the crowd?
(To CEDRIC and his party in the gallery.)
Room there, ye Saxon hinds!
Room for my King of Brokers and his child!
CEDRIC (starting to his feet). If he come up,
By Sigurd‘s sword, I‘ll fling him down again!
DE BRACY (drawing the Prince aside). My liege! my liege!
The man is Thane of Rotherwood,
Held high among the Saxons,
And guardian of the great heiress,
The fair Rowena. I do entreat, my liege,
Press not the Jew upon them.
JOHN. The Rose of Sharon, she shall choose the place
Where she may bloom most fair.
The Rose of Sharon!
REBECCA. Most gracious Prince,
Nearest the earth best fits our hapless race.
JOHN. But fits not thee.
Such beauty may claim room amid the best.
The sweetest rose climbs high.
REBECCA. But Judah‘s rose is of the lowly vale;
She groweth best where humble flowers bloom
By lonely waters. I entreat our Prince
To leave us lowly here.

Enter a Messenger, booted and splashed with quick travel. He
kneels and presents a letter to PRINCE JOHN.

JOHN. ‚Tis from our Royal brother, Louis of France.
„Look to thyself! The devil has broken loose!“
My brother has escaped!
Heaven grant he be not yet on English ground!
That sable knight who fought so well i‘ the melee?
My mind misgave me then. It cannot be!
I will not think it. On with the sport, I say!
You Saxon sluggards here,
You‘re proud when seated at the show,
But by the headlong swine of Galilee
You‘re slow to show us sport!
Will no one meet our Norman challengers?

CEDRIC starts in his place, but his people entreat him, and
PRINCE JOHN, with a mocking salutation, passes on and ascends to
the seats prepared for him and his suite.

HERALDS [four basses]. Love of ladies!
Death of champions!
On, gallant knights!
Bright eyes approve your deeds.

ENSEMBLE.
HERALDS. Love of ladies! etc.
CROWD. If ladies‘ love be worthy prize
Will ye not battle, then?
Look up, ye knights, where loving eyes
Approve the deeds of men!

JOHN (from the gallery). Heralds, sound the challenge!
(Trumpets sound a challenge.) Again the challenge!

Enter the lists, IVANHOE on horseback, in complete steel, with
visard down; on his shield an uprooted oak-sapling, with the
motto, „Il Desdichado.“ He salutes the PRINCE by lowering the
point of his spear.

SOPRANOS. What means his motto?
MEN. The disinherited!
ALL. The disinherited knight!

SOPRANOS. Alas, poor boy! Strike Ralph de Vipont‘s shield;
He is the weakest of the challengers.
De Vipont is the man for thee.
FRIAR. By heaven,
He has struck the shield of the Templar!
Well done, bold boy!

Exit IVANHOE up the lists.

LOCKSLEY. And see, the mighty Templar
Comes from his tent in armour,
A splendid man-at-arms.
A man of men!
SOPRANOS. Now, heaven guard the boy!

Exit BRIAN up the lists. A trumpet sounds.

CROWD. The combat! The combat! They back their horses:
And now, like thunderbolts of war,
Maddening they dash together!
FRIAR. O great St. Dunstan!
BASSES. What a crash of arms!
SOPRANOS. Neither is down!
SOPRANOS/TENORS. Neither is down!
ALL. Again! again! (The trumpet sounds again.)
TENORS. II Desdichado! Il Desdichado!
SOPRANOS. The Templar! The Templar!
BASSES. The Templar!
TENORS/BASSES. No! By heaven, the Templar‘s down!

ENSEMBLE.
HERALDS. Love of ladies! Death of champions!
SOPRANOS. The disinherited knight!
TENORS/BASSES. II Desdichado! II Desdichado!

ALL. II Desdichado!
FRIAR. The Templar leaps to his feet and draws his
sword.
TENORS/BASSES. Lay on, lay on,
SOPRANOS. On, gallant knights.
ALL. Lay on, lay on, like gallant knights!
Lay on, lay on, for chivalry!
Lay on, lay on, lay on.

Enter down the lists IVANHOE and BRIAN on foot, fighting. PRINCE,
who has risen in his place, throws down his baton.

JOHN. Stop the combat!

(A trumpet sounds, and Heralds part the combatants.)

Since, by mishap, the gallant Bois Guilbert
Was first unhorsed, I hereby name this namelessknight
The victor in our list.
CROWD. II Desdichado! II Desdichado!
JOHN. And now, Sir Conqueror,
Do thou thy knightly duty!
‚Tis thine to kneel before the fairest fair,
Whom yesterday we crowned our pageant‘s Queen
Our Queen of Love and Beauty:
And from her pride of place, thy Queen and ours
Shall crown thee with this crown.

(The crown is presented to ROWENA.)

CROWD. Rowena! Rowena! Our Saxon princess! Hail!
JOHN. Off with his helmet, Heralds!
Bareheaded must he take the crown!

In spite of protest, the herald lifts the helmet from his head.

ROWENA. Wilfred! Ivanhoe!
CEDRIC. My son! My son!
CROWD. Wilfred! Ivanhoe, Hail!

CROWD. Saxon heart is bold for right!
Saxon arm is strong for fight!
Saxon heart and Saxon arm,
They shall keep the land from harm,
Steadfast as the oaks that stand,
Wide and deep in English land!

IVANHOE falls fainting.

End of Act I

ACT II.

Scene I. Outside the Friar‘s Hut in the Forest.

Enter KING RICHARD.

KING. Strange lodging this for England‘s King,
A thievish friar for his host,
And for his food his own dun deer,
By outlaw‘s moonlight arrow slain.
Yet better than the pomp of kings
Is this free life in forest glade;
And better far my burly host
Than the false Louis, King of France,
Or Austria‘s Duke, or mine own brother John.
Till I have learned that brother‘s plans,
Here will I lie and take mine ease,
Couched like a stag in greenwood coverture.
Ho, jolly host! Where art thou?

Enter the FRIAR, bearing a huge pitcher of water.

FRIAR. Here am I!
I bring thee water from the well,
Wherein twixt dawn and set of sun
Holy Saint Dunstan did baptize
Five hundred red-haired heathen Danes.
KING. In truth a wonder-working well,
Whose crystal waters can so paint
A hermit‘s face with roseate hues!
If thou wert not so strict a saint,
Stoutly I‘d swear by book and bell,
The winecup thou didst not refuse.
FRIAR. Peace, idle man! Wert thou as I,
On pulse and water would‘st thou dine;
But since thy carnal thoughts incline
Beyond my strict sobriety,
I do bethink me of a pie
Of venison, and a stoup of rosy wine,
Which a good keeper gave me one fine day,
Lest a poor weary traveller came my way.
KING. That weary traveller am I;
So let‘s to supper presently.
A hand, mine host; let‘s hale thy table forth,
And eat like freemen in the forest air.
Out with thy venison pasty and thy wine!

They drag the table forth; the FRIAR places on it food and wine.
As the KING eats, the FRIAR watches him with greedy eyes,
munching some dry beans.

There is a custom in the East,
When strangers meet in merry feast,
That host should never fail to share
With stranger guest his goodly fare,
To prove no taint of poison there.
FRIAR. If truly ‚tis the custom, I
Will do myself some violence,
And for the nonce will share thy meal.
Drink fair, I pray thee. (Putting his hand on the
cup.)
Skoal to my honoured guest! Was heel!
KING. Drink hael, most rosy friar!

They fall eating and drinking; after a time the FRIAR falls back
in his seat.

FRIAR. Now I bethink me,
Thou didst come here to fight with me:
Hast thou forgot thy velour?
KING. Nay, we will fight to-morrow.
To-day will I contend with thee
In peaceful art of minstrelsy.
Reach me yon harp, I pray thee.
FRIAR. But first drink deep!
KING. So be it, jovial wine-skin!
Another draught for me, and so
The harp to my heart!

(Sings). I ask nor wealth nor courtier‘s praise,
That woos a weary King,
If I may ride the woodland way
And breathe the airs of spring.
An ashen spear in strong right hand,
Good horse between the knees;
What treasure can a king command
More glorious than these?
I rouse me with the dawn‘s first light,
And breast the shadowed hill;
I know the forest‘s deep delight
When all the leaves are still.
There would I bend with whisper low,
To woo the nut-brown maid,
And see her blushes come and go
Beneath the dappled shade.
And there I ride ‚neath living green
To hear the throstle sing;
For bird and wandering knight, I ween,
Are happier than the King!

FRIAR. Not bad, say I, nor badly sung!
I drink to wandering knights-at-arms,
And to all gallant men indeed!
But thou art none, not thou, I swear,
Who pourest water in good wine!
KING. Didst thou not say ‚twas from Saint Dunstan‘s
well?
Shall I not qualify my cup
With liquor loved of holy saint?
FRIAR. ‚Tis true! Full many heathen in that well
Did the Saint plunge for their eternal good;
But neither chronicle nor popular tale
Doth state he drank its water.
Now hear me sing, and own thyself a crow.

(Sings.) The wind blows cold across the moor,
With driving rain and rending tree:
It smites the pious hermit‘s door,
But not a jot cares he,
For close he sits within,
And makes his merry din,
With his „Ho, jolly Jenkin,
I spy a knave in drinkin‘,
And trowl the brown bowl to me!
Then ho, jolly Jenkin,
I spy a knave in drinkin‘,
And trowl the bonny bowl to me!

The wind a roaring song may sing,
In crashing wood or frightened town:
It whirls the mantle of a king
As ‚twere a beggar‘s gown;
But caring not a jot,
We sing and drain the pot,
With our „Ho, jolly Jenkin,
I spy a knave in drinkin‘,
And trowl the brown bowl to me!“
Then ho, jolly Jenkin,
I spy a knave in drinkin‘,
And trowl the bonny bowl to me!

As he sings, the outlaws gather; when he ends, they take up his
stave.

OUTLAWS. Then ho, jolly Jenkin,
I spy a knave in drinkin‘,
And trowl the brown bowl to me!“
Then ho, jolly Jenkin,
I spy a knave in drinkin‘,
And trowl the bonny bowl to me!

FRIAR. And now for combat! Where‘s this friend of mine?
No friendship stands till blows have passed.
What say‘st thou, friend? Broadsword or quarter-
staff?
KING. Nay, I‘ll not hurt thee!
I do protest I love thee so,
I would not crack thy shaven crown.
But if thou need‘st a proof, I‘ll stand,
And thou shalt strike me with thy hand,
And after thou shalt bide my blow.
FRIAR. No „after“ shall there be. A sennight long
Thou shalt lie gasping, ere thou rise again.
Stand, and stand firm! (He deals him a buffet.)
By all the saints in Saxon calendar,
He must be rooted like an ancient oak!
KING. Stand, and stand firm!

He deals him a buffet. The FRIAR rolls upon the ground. The
outlaws shout with laughter. Enter LOCKSLEY.

LOCKSLEY. What folly have we here? Arise,
Thou rolling cask! Up, up, I say!
This is no time for revelry.
And thou, Sir Knight in Ashby‘s lists
Thou wert a man indeed!
Now of thy manhood I demand
Succour for Cedric, Thane of Rotherwood,
And for his ward, Rowena, falsely ta‘en
By vizored knaves and borne to Torquilstone.
CHORUS. To Torquilstone!
LOCKSLEY. And by a strange mischance, Cedric‘s own son,
Borne in the litter of a wealthy Jew,
Was captured with his hosts, and lies interned
And wounded in the same accursed walls!
I ask thy aid for gallant Ivanhoe.
CHORUS. For Ivanhoe!
KING. My aid for Ivanhoe? Why waste your words?
Gather your men! Be speedy! On my soul,
If but a hair be harmed of Wilfred‘s head,
I‘ll tear their castle piecemeal with my hands
And give their bodies to the kite. My friend,
My friend of friends! Let there be no delay!
Sound bugles and away!
To Torquilstone!
CHORUS. To Torquilstone!

Scene II. A Passage-Way in Torquilstone.

Enter DE BRACY and followers masked, bringing CEDRIC and ROWENA
prisoners.

CEDRIC. Will not our captor dare to show his face?
DE BRACY. Aye, that dare I. (He unmasks, laughing.)
CEDRIC. De Bracy! Traitor! Who hast broken bread
In mine own hall!
ROWENA. I do beseech thee,
In mercy let us go;
As thou art knight of noble name and blood,
I do entreat thee let us hence in safety!
In mercy let us go!
In mercy let us go!
DE BRACY. The fate of war, the wile of love!
I here declare myself the loyal lover
Of this most lovely lady; and I bear
The sanction of our sovereign liege, Prince John;
And she shall be De Bracy‘s honoured bride.
CEDRIC. By heaven, rather would I see
This lady lifeless on her bier
Than yield her to thee! Faithless knight,
Is this thy Norman chivalry
To make weak women mad with fear,
And woo them in a dungeon‘s gloom?
DE BRACY. Peace, friend, I pray thee!
Speak not so loudly:
Dost thou not fear to peril thine own son?
CEDRIC. My son? This is some idle tale
To frighten me! I say I have no son.
DE BRACY. He, whom his father left to die or live,
Was succoured by a kindly Jew, and nursed
By a fair Jewess; and by fate of war
Jewess and Jew, and wounded knight
Are here interned. None knows his name but I;
And if I breathe the name of Ivanhoe,
Short were his shrift. So, good my friend, be
patient.
And, if this lady fair will smile on me,
Then will I save thy son.
CEDRIC (after a moment). My son defied me; he is dead to me.
I will not buy his life with a foul bargain!
ROWENA. Thou art his father; pity him and me!
Oh, gallant knight, I pray thee,
Be deaf to him, and to thine own worse thoughts;
And save this wounded knight of Ivanhoe!
And I will pray for thee. In mercy save him!

She falls weeping at DE BRACY‘s feet.

ENSEMBLE.
ROWENA. In mercy save him! In mercy save him!
DE BRACY. In thy fair hands is life of Ivanhoe!
Fairest lady, remember,
In thy fair hands is life of Ivanhoe!
CEDRIC. Kneel not to him! Remember who thou art,
Kneel not to him, a highway robber!
Kneel not to him! robber of the highway!
Remember who thou art!

Exeunt men with CEDRIC and ROWENA. BRIAN enters.

DE BRACY. Welcome, Sir Templar! But I may not stay;
I must be gone to woo my captive fair!

Exit DE BRACY.

BRIAN. Woo thou thy snowflake till she melt for thee;
Another and a wilder bliss be mine!
My lovely Jewess!
Oh, she has drawn a spell about my heart
And whelmed my soul with love!

Her southern splendour, like the Syrian moon,
Draws the full tide of my rebellious blood!
Though Death should clasp me close ere set of sun,
This hour is mine, and mine the tyrant‘s
mood,
And I will woo her as the lion woos,
To bring his wild mate docile to his side;
And I will win her as the lion wins
That in the desert leads his tawny bride.
O Maid of Judah, trembling in my arms,
Proud is thy fate to own my conquering sword!
Though Hell oppose with all its dire alarms,
This hour is mine, and I thy ruthless lord.
If Death be host, I‘ll drain his cup for wine!
Come Night, come Death, so this wild hour be mine!

Exit BRIAN.

Scene III. A Turret Chamber in Torquilstone.

REBECCA. ULRICA spinning; as she spins she sings fragments of
song.

ULRICA. Whet the keen axes,
Sons of the Dragon!
Kindle the torches,
Daughters of Hengist!
Wave your long tresses,
Maids of Valhalla!
Many a war-chief
Mighty in combat,
Pale from the death-blow,
Wends to your greeting.
Light ye the torches,
Maids of Valhalla!

REBECCA. Good mother, of thy pity say
What fate is mine? Speak, as thou art a woman!
In mercy answer me!
ULRICA. Evil and dark thy fate shall be,
Dark as the fate which long ago,
Befell a noble Saxon maid.
Look on me! In this cursed place
My father, and my brethren twain,
Their fair curls clotted with their blood,
Fought till they fell; and ere the stair
Was washed from that most holy stain,
I, the sole daughter of their race,
I, who was once as proud as fair,
Was sport of conqueror‘s wanton mood.
If such my fate, what hope for thee?
REBECCA. Is there no way of safety?
Have mercy on me! Point me out a way!
Be it through tortuous paths, where death may lie,
And I no more behold the light of day;
Be it through ghostly night or whelming flood,
I will essay it!
Is there no way of safety?
ULRICA. No way but through the gates of death,
And they do open late, too late!
My task is done,
My thread is spun,
Farewell! I leave thee to thy fate.
REBECCA. O stay with me, in mercy stay!
Curse me, but leave me not! Thy presence here
Were surely some protection in my need.
ULRICA. Not e‘en the presence of the Mother of God
(She points to a rude image of the Virgin.)
Can save thee from thy doom! Go, kneel to her,
And see if she will save a Jewish girl.
Whet ye the steel,
Sons of the Dragon,
Kindle the torches,
Daughters of Hengist!

Exit ULRICA. REBECCA goes quickly to the door, and tries it, but
ULRICA has barred it behind her. Then she goes to the window. She
peers over the low parapet, and starts back into the room with
her hands over her eyes.

REBECCA. O awful depth below the castle wall!
Sheer down it falls and bare; no smallest weed
Can find a cranny there. O for the wings
Of which the Psalmist sang, that I might fly,
And hide me from all eyes.
O Lord Jehovah! aid me in this hour!

Lord of our chosen race,
In hour of deep distress
And utter loneliness,
I lift weak hands and pray Thee of Thy grace,
Guard me, Jehovah, guard me!

Lord, on Thy name I cry
From depths where no man hears,
And half distraught with fears!
Stretch forth Thine arm to save me or I die!
Guard me, Jehovah, guard me!

Spirit, who movest everywhere,
O Thou, who know‘st the deeps o‘ the sea
And climbest the heights o‘ the air,
Now, in this narrow place,
I pray Thee of Thy grace
Descend to me!

Guard, in mercy guard,
O guard me!

The door opens, and BRIAN enters, his mantle held to shield his
face. At sight of him she tears the jewels from her arms and
throat, and advancing, offers them to him.

REBECCA. Take thou these jewels; here is wealth enow
To give thee life of happy days;
And when I leave these castle walls
For every gem a thousand shall be thine.
BRIAN. Now, nay, fair flower of Palestine,
Thou dost mistake me; I am one
More apt to hang thy neck with Orient pearl
Than to take jewels from thee.
I love thee, I love thee! By my soul, I swear
That not for all the wealth of all thy tribe
Will I resign thy beauty.
REBECCA. As thou dost hope for mercy at the last,
Stand back and hear me!
I am a Jewess, thou a Christian knight;
Accursed in the sight of God and man
Were our unholy marriage.
BRIAN. Fair girl, I would not wed with thee,
Wert thou the Queen of Sheba, Jewess-born;
Nor wert thou Christian damsel, would I wed.
My vow forbids me. See, on my heart the Cross!
REBECCA. Thou would‘st appeal to thy most holy sign?
BRIAN. Thou art a Jewess; the Cross is naught to thee.
REBECCA. I hold my father‘s faith, and if I err,
May God forgive me and He will forgive.
But thou, a Christian knight, wilt thou appeal
To thine own Cross to aid thee in thy sins?
BRIAN. Thou art a Jewess; the Cross is naught to thee.
REBECCA. To the Cross to aid thee in thy sins?
BRIAN. Preach me no more,
Daughter of Sirach! Let it suffice for thee
That thou art captive to my bow and spear.
REBECCA. If thou dost wrong me, then by heaven I swear
I will proclaim thy deathless infamy
Till each Preceptory, each Chapter of thy Order,
Ring with thy shame!
BRIAN. And loud must be thy tongue
If it be heard beyond these castle walls.
Yield to thy fate! (He advances upon her.)
REBECCA. Never! The God of Abraham
Opens a path of safety,
Even from the pit of infamy. (She leaps upon the
parapet.)
Stand back, proud man! If thou but stir,
I will leap down to death; and thou shalt know
The Jewish girl would rather yield her soul
To God than trust her honour to the Templar.

A pause. He stands regarding her.

BRIAN. Now, by my sword, art thou a noble heart!
Mine must thou be, for now I know thy soul,
And know it mate for mine;
Attend and hear! Our Holy Order grows
In power greater than the pomp of kings;
And of this Order I will be the head.
My mailed foot shall climb the throne of kings,
And my steel gauntlet pluck their sceptres down.
And thou shalt share my glory and my pride;
For I will make thee Empress of the East,
Carve thee a throne more fair than Solyman‘s;
And thou and I, fearing nor man nor God,
Shall sit, on high, the crowned monarchs of the
world.
REBECCA. Blaspheme no more! Thy Order of the Temple
Was formed for poverty and chastity.
Beware, rash man! Blaspheme no more!
God‘s arrows fly afar to smite the proud.
And know, if there were truth in thy wild words,
And thou couldst throne me o‘er the necks of
kings,
Rather would I go forth to mourn my life
With Jephthah‘s daughter on the lonely hills,
Than sit with thee on thy imperial throne.
God judge thee, and not I! (A bugle
sounds.)
What sound is that? (The bugle sounds again.)
BRIAN. A summons, as I live!
I must be gone to see who sounds so bold!
REBECCA. If twere some hope of safety!
BRIAN. Hope not at all, or hope to mate with me.
Though the Archangel‘s trumpet sounded war,
I would return and dare his fiery sword,
Ere I would cease to claim thee for mine own.
REBECCA. And if thou camest with all the Lords of Hell,
I would defy them in the name of Him
Who set His bounds to the eternal sea.

ENSEMBLE.
REBECCA. I would defy them, I would defy them,
In the name of Him above!
BRIAN. Hope not at all, hope not at all,
I would return and dare his fiery sword,
Ere I would cease to claim thee for mine own.

Exit BRIAN. REBECCA kneels in prayer.

REBECCA. O Jehovah, guard, O guard!

End of Act II.

ACT III.

Scene I. A Room in Torquilstone.

IVANHOE is alone. He leans on his bed, pale and weak from his
wound.

IVANHOE. Happy with winged feet,
Comes the morning softly stealing in;
And to my darling‘s chamber sweet
This happy light will win!

O, fair procession of the morning hours,
Go, bid my love awake with all the flowers.

But let me sleep awhile,
And dream my only wound is from love‘sdart,
And cunningly my thought beguile,
To deem that thou, fair Queen, my gaolerart;

So prison bars and wounds more dear shall be
Than all the world, if there I find not thee.

Come, gentle sleep!

IVANHOE falls asleep. Presently ULRICA steals into the room,
followed by REBECCA.

ULRICA. Tend thou the Knight thou lovest,
Another and a nobler work be mine!
Look for thy bridal torches! (Exit ULRICA.)
REBECCA. Aye, she speaks truth; I love him.
Now, in this hour of doubt and danger,
To my weak heart I say, „Be still, I love him.“

Ah, would that thou and I might lead our sheep
Amid the folded hills!
The winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The singing birds are come beside the rills.
Arise, beloved one!
I love thee, I love thee; O my love,

My Asahel, O! swift as the wild roe,
And terrible as armed hosts that go
With banners onward waving.
How fair and pleasant art thou, O my love!
A shadow of the rock, a happy fountain springing;
A bird his glad song winging
Up to high heaven in a maze of light!

Sleep fountain, bird, and love, for surely sleep
is best;
Sleep, while I guard thy rest
By day or night;
For only in thy sleep art thou my love.
Ah me, for many waters
Quench not the fire of love; and, when he wakes,
His eyes are not for me.
Rest, rest, beloved!

IVANHOE wakes. He raises himself on his bed.

IVANHOE. And is it thou, dear maiden?
My gentle nurse!
Now is all well with me since thou art near.
But hark! what sound is in mine ear?
I dreamed, but dream no more. And now
Our friends renew their onset.
REBECCA. Peace, be still!
I hear no sound of combat.
IVANHOE. ‚Tis but the pause before the onset,
The stillness ere the thunder break in the air.
Anon ‚twill break in fury. (He rises from the
bed.)
I pray thee, gentle maiden,
Help me to yonder window.
REBECCA. Nay, rest, I pray thee! I will stand
At yonder window, and will tell
How flow the tides of war. Fear not for me!
IVANHOE. Nay, gentle heart, it must not be,
That thou dare danger for my sake.
My whole life long should I go mourning thee,
Wert thou to sleep in death and I to wake.
REBECCA. Thy shield then! Proudly will I bear
The glorious shield of Ivanhoe!

She takes his shield upon her arm, and mounts to the window.
IVANHOE sinks back upon the bed.

REBECCA. I see them now; the dark wood moves with bows.

Far off the bugle sounds assault. The Norman trumpets answer.

REBECCA. O God of Israel, shield us in this hour!
On, on they come with bended bows triumphant;
On, on they drive, and nov the quiver rattleth;
The noise of the captains and the shouting!
VOICES (in the distance).
TENORS. De Bracy, De Bracy!
On, Free Companions, on!
BASSES. The Temple, the Temple!
Strike for the Templar! strike!
IVANHOE. And I must lie like palsied monk
While the great game is playing!
What of the sable knight? Does he ride forth
Like one who goes a-maying,
With joy of battle and the pride of war?
REBECCA. With giant blows he hews the palisade;
A mighty axe swings in his mailed hand,
His black plume floats afar,
A raven o‘er the stormy fight!
The palisado falls; he enters in
Onward he drives, a Joab in the battle!
Lion of war now fall his foes before him,
Bending like corn that bends before the whirlwind.
They fly, they fly across the moat,
And hurl the plank away; the outwork‘s won!
Ah woe! The poor men left o‘ the other side!
They fling them down! they pierce them through!
O God of Israel, pardon in this hour
The men whom thou hast made.

She lets fall the shield, and comes from the window, her hands
before her eyes. IVANHOE rises to meet her.

IVANHOE. How canst thou know what pain it is to lie
All helpless here, while deeds of chivalry
Are done so near and yet so far away?
What life is there but in the battle brave,
And who would live one day
Of sloth and shame, that in the clash of fight,
The battle‘s fierce delight,
Might find ‚mid warriors bold the glory and the
grave?
REBECCA. Ah me! not thus did Judah‘s warriors go
Forth to the fight, but breathing prayer and
praise;
Not in the shield nor sword
They trusted, but in Him whose mighty arm
Rolled back the flood, till Pharaoh‘s hosts of war
Were whelmed in rushing waters.
But now, alas! Judah‘s star
Is sunk in vasty night.

ENSEMBLE.
REBECCA. And yet be witness, heaven, with what delight,
What rapture would I give
My life-blood drop by drop, so I might live
But for one hour to see
Judah redeemed from her captivity.
IVANHOE. How canst thou know what pain,
What pain it is to lie
All helpless, while deeds of chivalry are done so
near?

ENSEMBLE.
REBECCA. would I give my life-blood, my life-blood, drop by
drop,
my life-blood, drop by drop, my life-blood, drop
by drop!
IVANHOE. What life is there but in the battle brave,
The battle‘s fierce delight, the battle‘s,
battle‘s fierce delight,
The battle‘s fierce delight!
TENORS (without). The Temple, the Temple!
Strike for the Templar, strike!
BASSES (without). On for Saint George, on!
On for Saint George, on!

REBECCA. But see! What angry redness
Flushes the heaven above us?
The castle burns with fire.
Now do I know thee,
Fiend with thy wedding torches!

The door is thrown open. Enter BRIAN.

BRIAN. The castle burns. Away with me!

IVANHOE seizes a sword, but BRIAN strikes it from his hand.
IVANHOE falls fainting. BRIAN seizes REBECCA, and drags her away.

REBECCA. Wilfred! Wilfred!
In mercy save him!
BRIAN. Away with me! Away with me!

Exit BRIAN, with REBECCA. The walls begin to burn and fall. Enter
through the ruins KING RICHARD and YEOMEN.

IVANHOE (on his knees). The King! The King!
Long live the King!

The Outlaws fall back in amazement, then uncover.

OUTLAWS. The King! It is the King!
The Black Knight!
Pardon! Pardon! Long live the King!

More ruin falls, and on high is seen ULRICA, a burnt-out torch in
hand.

ULRICA. Far
ALL. Ha!
ULRICA. leaps the fire-flame, render of
forests;
Far floats the smoke-wreath, wings of the eagle;
Whet the bright steel, then,
Sons of the Dragon!
Kindle the torches,
Daughters of Hengist!
I come, O Zernebock, I come in glory, I come! I
come!
CHORUS. Ah!

She leaps down and disappears

Scene II. In the forest. Outlaws cross glade singing and
dancing.

OUTLAWS (MEN). Light foot upon the dancing green,
Light hand upon the bow,
With glancing eye and laughing mien
Adown the glade we go.
And, marching, sing like yeomen true,
„Our bows are made of English yew.“

Enter KING RICHARD, lute in hand. IVANHOE follows him.

KING. Oh, I would be an outlaw bold,
To strike the flying deer,
Or leave the lover‘s tale half told
In lingering maiden‘s ear.
(to IVANHOE.) Hither, dear lad, and lean on me,
This air of woodland wild and free
Shall brace the arm that hangs so weak,
And bring the wild rose to thy cheek.
Here will we rest and wile the time away
With dainty lute and jocund roundelay.
IVANHOE. Thy love is more to me, my King,
Than breath of May that poets sing,
And dear as maiden‘s love to me
The hope to live and fight for thee
KING (to his lute). Oh, forest ways are dark enow,
Though shine the silver moon,
And dark beneath the forest bough,
The stricken deer shall swoon.
(to IVANHOE.) Here seat thee, lad, and rest thy bones;
This knoll shall be the best of thrones;
And ‚neath my canopy of singing birds
I‘ll judge me like a king o‘ the ancient world.
What ho! What ho! Bring my prisoner forth.

Enter DE BRACY, guarded.

Maurice de Bracy, faithless knight,
Since thou didst seize upon the road
Ladies and liegemen of the King,
Now tell me why, in heaven‘s sight,
Of noble tree a thankless load
Thou shouldst not swing?
DE BRACY. My liege, I have no word to say,
But only of thy mercy pray,
Cover my face; I would not fright
The little birds from their delight;
Cover my face, and let me swing
‚The highest servant of my King.
KING. Maurice de Bracy, I pronounce thy doom:
Get thee to horse, strike spur and ride away!
DE BRACY. To horse! and free!
Surely my King doth jest with me!
KING. Not I. I bid thee up and fly!
Ride as the fiend were after thee!
Ride till thou find my brother John,
Charge him he yield him to our grace
Ere ten days pass, or, by the Holy Cross,
I will so maul him that his Louis o‘ France
Shall know him not, and I‘ll so bend his neck
That his back break. Go! Let thy horse be fleet!
Kneel not, speak not, but live in honesty.

Exit DE BRACY.

(to IVANHOE). Look, where thy moody father walks apart,
And by his side thy gentle lady fair,
Lad, will thy sire forgive thee?
IVANHOE. Alas, my liege, I fear.
KING. We‘ll bend him yet. Look, where he comes this way;
Stand thou apart, and I will strive with him

Enter CEDRIC and ROWENA.

Cedric, good friend, didst thou not promise me
A boon for lusty fighting? What if I ask
Free pardon for thy son and a fair wife?

CEDRIC. I am grown infirm of purpose; I know not
If for the love of woman‘s face
My life-long task must ended be,
And lost, the hope of Harold‘s race,
What work remains for me,
Beneath the sun?
KING. Maiden, if e‘er in forest free
The sun shone fair for love‘s delight,
Kneel down and pray for charity,
For so by thy brave knight
Shall bride be won.
ROWENA. Cedric, O father, hear me pray
By days of childhood‘s lost delight,
When he and I were wont to play,
Forgive thy son.
IVANHOE. O Cedric, O father,
May I find favour in thy sight,
And take me to thy heart again
True man, and trusty Knight,
And thine own son.
Repeat Ensemble.

CEDRIC. Be it as thou wilt. God knows I pardon thee!
Wilfred, my son! But let me hence awhile,
Follow me not; I pray thee, let me go! (Exit.)
KING. The pliant willow waves,
But the oak groans in bending.
And I‘ll go too, for well wot I
That man and lily maid
Well met i‘ the forest shade,
Desire no king for company.
Oh! I would be an outlaw bold,
To strike the flying deer;
For hearts are young in forest old,
And Spring is all the year. (Exit KING
RICHARD.)

IVANHOE. How oft beneath the far-off Syrian skies
Have I looked up and seen amid the stars,
Twin lights of home in land of distant wars,
These star-like eyes.
ROWENA. How oft, when thou wert far beyond the foam,
And mine was woman‘s part of weary rest,
Dreamed I my head lay happy on this breast,
Thy heart my home!

Enter ISAAC, pale and in haste.

ISAAC. Knight, Knight of Ivanhoe, I come for thee!
My child is doomed to die.
IVANHOE. To die!
ISAAC. Nay, hear me. When the fierce Templar
Snatched her from burning Torquilstone, he bore
her
To the next house of the Order.
There have they sat in judgment on my child,
For witchcraft practiced on that evil knight,
And she must die by fire.
My child has asked a champion; thou wilt come
I pray thee at thy feet, away with me!
ROWENA. Wilfred, bethink thee, thou art weak with wounds.
In mercy stay with me Wilfred, my love!
IVANHOE. And shall she die by fire?
She led me back to life and love of thee.
Though I were weaker than an ailing girl,
Must I not go?
ROWENA. I would not have thee stay
With me and shame. O Wilfred, O my love,
Go, go, lest I entreat thee back again!
ISAAC. My child must die by fire! My child must die by
fire!
Thou wilt come, I pray, I pray thee come away with
me!
IVANHOE. My heart, my queen!
Be brave till next I clasp thee in my arms.
Farewell, dear love!

He embraces ROWENA, and rushes out followed by ISAAC. ROWENA
falls fainting.

Scene III. The Preceptory of the Templars.

A funeral pile. A crowd of common folk kept back by Temple
servants. The TEMPLARS enter in order singing. REBECCA is led in
with them. Among them is BRIAN, silent and pale, armed but
without his helmet.

TEMPLARS. Fremuere principes,
Irruere turbidi:
In hoc Templo una spes,
Una salus Domini!
Nobis sit victoria,
Nostro Templo gloria,
Gloria sancto nomini!

Cordibus ac mentibus
Proni veneramur te:
Salus esto gentibus
In hoc Templo, Domine!
Nobis sit victoria,
Nostro Templo gloria,
Gloria sancto nomine!

When the TEMPLARS have taken their seats, their GRAND MASTER
remains standing.

GRAND MASTER. Thou Jewish girl, who art condemned to die
For practice of thy vile unholy arts
Against a noble Christian knight, attend.
Thou didst demand a champion, and our Order
Erring perchance, as ‚tis most meet to err,
In mercy, heard thy prayer;
Wherefore we named our tried and valiant brother,
Brian, the knight of whom thou art accused,
To meet thy champion, should a champion come.
But now the hours decline, and sinks the sun
As sinks thy life. The hour of doom is near.
Repent and free thy soul! Confess thy crime.
REBECCA. I am innocent.
Now, if God will, even in this last dark hour
He will appoint a champion.
But if no champion come, I bow
Before His holy will, and am content to die.
GRAND MASTER. Sound trumpets! (A flourish of trumpets, then
a pause.)
Now since no champion makes answer here,
Draw near and bind the maiden to the stake;
For surely she shall die.

As the Servants approach REBECCA, BRIAN comes quickly down.

BRIAN. It shall not be.
Fools! Dotards! Will ye slay the innocent?
Butchers and burners!
She is mine, I say; I say she shall not burn.
GRAND MASTER. What need of further proof? The witchcraft
works
Even in his lips, and breeds their blasphemy.
Take her and bind her to the stake.
BRIAN (to Servants). Back! as you hope to live!
(To REBECCA). Swear to be mine, and I will save thee now.
My horse is nigh at hand, Zamor my horse
Who never failed me yet; and he will bear thee
To life and love. One word, and thou shalt live!
REBECCA (in prayer). Oh Jehovah,
Guard, oh guard me!

BRIAN covers his face and turns aside. REBECCA offers her hands
to the Servants. They bind her to the stake. They are about to
fire the pile, when there is a movement in the crowd, and a great
shout.

VOICES. A champion! A champion! A champion!

Through the crowd comes IVANHOE on foot, pale, dusty, with drawn
sword.

IVANHOE. Forbear, forbear!
I come, her champion, ere set of sun,
Wilfred of Ivanhoe.
CHORUS. A champion! A champion! A champion!
REBECCA. He is weak and wounded,
He must not fight for me!
Oh! as you hope for mercy at the last,
Forbid the combat!
BRIAN. This is the man you love!
Now is the hour,
Death-hour for him or me.
Look to thy life, thou wretch of Ivanhoe!

He attacks IVANHOE with fury. The GRAND MASTER rises as if to
stop the combat, but stands gazing. Enter KING RICHARD, CEDRIC,
ROWENA, ISAAC, and others. IVANHOE gives ground, fighting
desperately. He is beaten to his knee. BRIAN swings his sword for
a last blow, then drops his point and stands. A silence; then
BRIAN falls. IVANHOE goes to him, wondering, and kneels beside
him.

IVANHOE. Dead! He is dead!
CHORUS. A judgment! A judgment!
The evil passions warring in his soul
Have rent him like the seven fiends of Hell:
Bow down before the judgment of the Lord!

They unbind REBECCA. She moves towards IVANHOE, but stops as he
goes towards ROWENA. ISAAC goes timidly and touches the hand of
REBECCA, who is gazing at IVANHOE and ROWENA. At his touch, she
turns and takes his hand in hers.

KING. I charge thee, Conrad, Master of the Temple,
On whose foul sport we have intruded here,
Up and begone, thou and thy trait‘rous knights,
And at your peril shame our coasts no more.
GRAND MASTER. And dost thou banish me?
TEMPLARS. The Temple stands above the wrath of Kings!
We will appeal to Rome!
KING. Appeal! Appeal!
But if I find thee yet on English ground,
I will so harry thee, thou foreign knight,
That thou shalt have no voice to plead in Rome.
See where the banner of England floats afar
Above thy Temple pennants!

The Royal banner of England is raised.

ENSEMBLE.
TEMPLARS. Wide as the world our Temple stands,
To mock the pride of kings!
REBECCA. Our Temple was not made with hands,
But high as heaven it springs.
ROWENA, IVANHOE,
CEDRIC, KING, ALL. O Love, that holdst the world in fee,
And strongest knights in thrall,
Our hymn we raise to thee,
And hail thee Lord of all!

Zur Übersicht zurück

The Mikado

or: the Town of Titipu

By William S. Gilbert
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

Dramatis Personae:

THE MIKADO OF JAPAN.
NANKI-POO (his Son, disguised as a wandering minstrel, and in
love with Yum-Yum).
KO-KO (Lord High Executioner of Titipu).
POOH-BAH (Lord High Everything Else).
PISH-TISH (a Noble Lord).
Three Sisters – Wards of Ko-Ko:
YUM-YUM
PITTI-SING
PEEP-BO
KATISHA (an elderly Lady, in love with Nanki-Poo).
Chorus of School-girls, Nobles, Guards, and Coolies.

ACT I – Courtyard of Ko-Ko‘s Official Residence.
ACT II – Ko-Ko‘s Garden

First produced at the Savoy Theatre on March 14, 1885.

ACT I

SCENE. – Courtyard of Ko-Ko‘s Palace in Titipu. Japanese nobles discovered standing and sitting in attitudes suggested by native drawings.

CHORUS OF NOBLES.

If you want to know who we are,
We are gentlemen of Japan:
On many a vase and jar –
On many a screen and fan,
We figure in lively paint:
Our attitude‘s queer and quaint –
You‘re wrong if you think it ain‘t, oh!

If you think we are worked by strings,
Like a Japanese marionette,
You don‘t understand these things:
It is simply Court etiquette.
Perhaps you suppose this throng
Can‘t keep it up all day long?
If that‘s your idea, you‘re wrong, oh!

Enter Nanki-Poo in great excitement. He carries a native guitar
on his back and a bundle of ballads in his hand.

RECIT. – NANKI-POO.

Gentlemen, I pray you tell me
Where a gentle maiden dwelleth,
Named Yum-Yum, the ward of Ko-Ko?
In pity speak, oh speak I pray you!

A NOBLE. Why, who are you who ask this question?
NANK. Come gather round me, and I‘ll tell you.

SONG and CHORUS – NANKI-POO.

A wandering minstrel I –
A thing of shreds and patches,
Of ballads, songs and snatches,
And dreamy lullaby!

My catalogue is long,
Through every passion ranging,
And to your humours changing
I tune my supple song!

Are you in sentimental mood?
I‘ll sigh with you,
Oh, sorrow, sorrow!
On maiden‘s coldness do you brood?
I‘ll do so, too –
Oh, sorrow, sorrow!
I‘ll charm your willing ears
With songs of lovers‘ fears,
While sympathetic tears
My cheeks bedew –
Oh, sorrow, sorrow!

But if patriotic sentiment is wanted,
I‘ve patriotic ballads cut and dried;
For where‘er our country‘s banner may be planted,
All other local banners are defied!
Our warriors, in serried ranks assembled,
Never quail – or they conceal it if they do –
And I shouldn‘t be surprised if nations trembled
Before the mighty troops of Titipu!

CHORUS. We shouldn‘t be surprised, etc.

NANK. And if you call for a song of the sea,
We‘ll heave the capstan round,
With a yeo heave ho, for the wind is free,
Her anchor‘s a-trip and her helm‘s a-lee,
Hurrah for the homeward bound!

CHORUS. Yeo-ho – heave ho –
Hurrah for the homeward bound!

To lay aloft in a howling breeze
May tickle a landsman‘s taste,
But the happiest hour a sailor sees
Is when he‘s down
At an inland town,
With his Nancy on his knees, yeo ho!
And his arm around her waist!

CHORUS. Then man the capstan – off we go,
As the fiddler swings us round,
With a yeo heave ho,
And a rum below,
Hurrah for the homeward bound!

A wandering minstrel I, etc.

Enter Pish-Tush.

PISH. And what may be your business with Yum-Yum?
NANK. I‘ll tell you. A year ago I was a member of the
Titipu town band. It was my duty to take the cap round for
contributions. While discharging this delicate office, I saw
Yum-Yum. We loved each other at once, but she was betrothed to
her guardian Ko-Ko, a cheap tailor, and I saw that my suit was
hopeless. Overwhelmed with despair, I quitted the town. Judge
of my delight when I heard, a month ago, that Ko-Ko had been con-
demned to death for flirting! I hurried back at once, in the
hope of finding Yum-Yum at liberty to listen to my protestations.
PISH. It is true that Ko-Ko was condemned to death for
flirting, but he was reprieved at the last moment, and raised to
the exalted rank of Lord High Executioner under the following
remarkable circumstances:

SONG – PISH-TUSH and CHORUS.

Our great Mikado, virtuous man,
When he to rule our land began,
Resolved to try
A plan whereby
Young men might best be steadied.

So he decreed, in words succinct,
That all who flirted, leered or winked
(Unless connubially linked),
Should forthwith be beheaded.

And I expect you‘ll all agree
That he was right to so decree.
And I am right,
And you are right,
And all is right as right can be!

CHORUS. And you are right.
And we are right, etc

This stem decree, you‘ll understand,
Caused great dismay throughout the land!
For young and old
And shy and bold
Were equally affected.
The youth who winked a roving eye,
Or breathed a non-connubial sigh,
Was thereupon condemned to die –
He usually objected.

And you‘ll allow, as I expect,
That he was right to so object.
And I am right,
And you are right,
And everything is quite correct!

CHORUS. And you are right,
And we are right, etc.

And so we straight let out on bail
A convict from the county jail,
Whose head was next
On some pretext
Condemned to be mown off,
And made him Headsman, for we said,
„Who‘s next to be decapited
Cannot cut off another‘s head
Until he‘s cut his own off.“

And we are right, I think you‘ll say,
To argue in this kind of way;
And I am right,
And you are right,
And all is right – too-looral-lay!

CHORUS. And you are right,
And we are right, etc.

[Exeunt Chorus.

Enter Pooh-Bah.

NANK. Ko-Ko, the cheap tailor, Lord High Executioner of
Titipu! Why, that‘s the highest rank a citizen can attain!
POOH. It is. Our logical Mikado, seeing no moral
difference between the dignified judge who condemns a criminal to
die, and the industrious mechanic who carries out the sentence,
has rolled the two offices into one, and every judge is now his
own executioner.
NANK. But how good of you (for I see that you are a
nobleman of the highest rank) to condescend to tell all this to
me, a mere strolling minstrel!
POOH. Don‘t mention it. I am, in point of fact, a
particularly haughty and exclusive person, of pre-Adamite
ancestral descent. You will understand this when I tell you that
I can trace my ancestry back to a protoplasmal primordial atomic
globule. Consequently, my family pride is something
inconceivable. I can‘t help it. I was born sneering. But I
struggle hard to overcome this defect. I mortify my pride
continually. When all the great officers of State resigned in a
body because they were too proud to serve under an ex-tailor, did
I not unhesitatingly accept all their posts at once?
PISH. And the salaries attached to them? You did.
POOH. It is consequently my degrading duty to serve this
upstart as First Lord of the Treasury, Lord Chief Justice,
Commander-in-Chief, Lord High Admiral, Master of the Buckhounds,
Groom of the Back Stairs, Archbishop of Titipu, and Lord Mayor,
both acting and elect, all rolled into one. And at a salary! A
Pooh-Bah paid for his services! I a salaried minion! But I do
it! It revolts me, but I do it!
NANK. And it does you credit.
POOH. But I don‘t stop at that. I go and dine with
middle-class people on reasonable terms. I dance at cheap
suburban parties for a moderate fee. I accept refreshment at any
hands, however lowly. I also retail State secrets at a very low
figure. For instance, any further information about Yum-Yum
would come under the head of a State secret. (Nanki-Poo takes his
hint, and gives him money.) (Aside.) Another insult and, I
think, a light one!

SONG – POOH-BAH with NANKI-POO and PISH-TUSH.

Young man, despair,
Likewise go to,
Yum-Yum the fair
You must not woo.
It will not do:
I‘m sorry for you,
You very imperfect ablutioner!
This very day
From school Yum-Yum
Will wend her way,
And homeward come,
With beat of drum
And a rum-tum-tum,
To wed the Lord High executioner!
And the brass will crash,
And the trumpets bray,
And they‘ll cut a dash
On their wedding day.
She‘ll toddle away, as all aver,
With the Lord High Executioner ‚

NANK. and POOH. And the brass will crash, etc.

It‘s a hopeless case,
As you may see,
And in your place
Away I‘d flee;
But don‘t blame me –
I‘m sorry to be
Of your pleasure a diminutioner.
They‘ll vow their pact
Extremely soon,
In point of fact
This afternoon.
Her honeymoon
With that buffoon
At seven commences, so you shun her!

ALL. And the brass will crash, etc.
[Exit Pish-Tush.

RECIT. – NANKI-POO and POOH-BAH.

NANK. And I have journeyed for a month, or nearly,
To learn that Yum-Yum, whom I love so dearly,
This day to Ko-Ko is to be united!
POOH. The fact appears to be as you‘ve recited:
But here he comes, equipped as suits his station;
He‘ll give you any further information.
[Exeunt Pooh-Bah and Nanki-Poo.

Enter Chorus of Nobles.

Behold the Lord High Executioner
A personage of noble rank and title –
A dignified and potent officer,
Whose functions are particularly vital!
Defer, defer,
To the Lord High Executioner!

Enter Ko-Ko attended.

SOLO – KO-KO.

Taken from the county jail
By a set of curious chances;
Liberated then on bail,
On my own recognizances;
Wafted by a favouring gale
As one sometimes is in trances,
To a height that few can scale,
Save by long and weary dances;
Surely, never had a male
Under such like circumstances
So adventurous a tale,
Which may rank with most romances.

CHORUS. Defer, defer,
To the Lord High Executioner, etc.

KO. Gentlemen, I‘m much touched by this reception. I can
only trust that by strict attention to duty I shall ensure a
continuance of those favours which it will ever be my study to
deserve. If I should ever be called upon to act professionally,
I am happy to think that there will be no difficulty in finding
plenty of people whose loss will be a distinct gain to society at
large.

SONG – KO-KO with CHORUS OF MEN.

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I‘ve got a little list – I‘ve got a little list
Of society offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed – who never would be missed!
There‘s the pestilential nuisances who write for autographs –
All people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs –
All children who are up in dates, and floor you with ‚em flat –
All persons who in shaking hands, shake hands with you like
that –
And all third persons who on spoiling tˆte-…-tˆtes insist –
They‘d none of ‚em be missed – they‘d none of ‚em be missed!

CHORUS. He‘s got ‚em on the list – he‘s got ‚em on the list;
And they‘ll none of ‚em be missed – they‘ll none of
‚em be missed.
There‘s the banjo serenader, and the others of his race,
And the piano-organist – I‘ve got him on the list!
And the people who eat peppermint and puff it in your face,
They never would be missed – they never would be missed!
Then the idiot who praises, with enthusiastic tone,
All centuries but this, and every country but his own;
And the lady from the provinces, who dresses like a guy,
And who „doesn‘t think she waltzes, but would rather like to
try“;
And that singular anomaly, the lady novelist –
I don‘t think she‘d be missed – I‘m sure she‘d not he missed!

CHORUS. He‘s got her on the list – he‘s got her on the list;
And I don‘t think she‘ll be missed – I‘m sure
she‘ll not be missed!

And that Nisi Prius nuisance, who just now is rather rife,
The Judicial humorist – I‘ve got him on the list!
All funny fellows, comic men, and clowns of private life –
They‘d none of ‚em be missed – they‘d none of ‚em be missed.
And apologetic statesmen of a compromising kind,
Such as – What d‘ye call him – Thing‘em-bob, and
likewise – Never-mind,
And ‚St – ‘st – ‘st – and What‘s-his-name, and also You-know-who –
The task of filling up the blanks I‘d rather leave to you.
But it really doesn‘t matter whom you put upon the list,
For they‘d none of ‚em be missed – they‘d none of ‚em be
missed!

CHORUS. You may put ‚em on the list – you may put ‚em on the
list;
And they‘ll none of ‚em be missed – they‘ll none of
‚em be missed!

Enter Pooh-Bah.

KO. Pooh-Bah, it seems that the festivities in connection
with my approaching marriage must last a week. I should like to
do it handsomely, and I want to consult you as to the amount I
ought to spend upon them.
POOH. Certainly. In which of my capacities? As First Lord
of the Treasury, Lord Chamberlain, Attorney General, Chancellor
of the Exchequer, Privy Purse, or Private Secretary?
KO. Suppose we say as Private Secretary.
POOH. Speaking as your Private Secretary, I should say
that, as the city will have to pay for it, don‘t stint yourself,
do it well.
KO. Exactly – as the city will have to pay for it. That is
your advice.
POOH. As Private Secretary. Of course you will understand
that, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, I am bound to see that due
economy is observed.
KO. Oh! But you said just now „Don‘t stint yourself, do it
well“.
POOH. As Private Secretary.
KO. And now you say that due economy must be observed.
POOH. As Chancellor of the Exchequer.
KO. I see. Come over here, where the Chancellor can‘t hear
us. (They cross the stage.) Now, as my Solicitor, how do you
advise me to deal with this difficulty?
POOH. Oh, as your Solicitor, I should have no hesitation in
saying „Chance it – – “
KO. Thank you. (Shaking his hand.) I will.
POOH. If it were not that, as Lord Chief Justice, I am
bound to see that the law isn‘t violated.
KO. I see. Come over here where the Chief Justice can‘t
hear us. (They cross the stage.) Now, then, as First Lord of
the Treasury?
POOH. Of course, as First Lord of the Treasury, I could
propose a special vote that would cover all expenses, if it were
not that, as Leader of the Opposition, it would be my duty to
resist it, tooth and nail. Or, as Paymaster General, I could so
cook the accounts that, as Lord High Auditor, I should never
discover the fraud. But then, as Archbishop of Titipu, it would
be my duty to denounce my dishonesty and give myself into my own
custody as first Commissioner of Police.
KO. That‘s extremely awkward.
POOH. I don‘t say that all these distinguished people
couldn‘t be squared; but it is right to tell you that they
wouldn‘t be sufficiently degraded in their own estimation unless
they were insulted with a very considerable bribe.
KO. The matter shall have my careful consideration. But my
bride and her sisters approach, and any little compliment on your
part, such as an abject grovel in a characteristic Japanese
attitude, would be esteemed a favour.
POOH. No money, no grovel!
[Exeunt together.

Enter procession of Yum-Yum‘s schoolfellows, heralding Yum-Yum,
Peep-Bo, and Pitti-Sing.

CHORUS OF GIRLS.

Comes a train of little ladies
From scholastic trammels free,
Each a little bit afraid is,
Wondering what the world can be!

Is it but a world of trouble –
Sadness set to song?
Is its beauty but a bubble
Bound to break ere long?

Are its palaces and pleasures
Fantasies that fade?
And the glory of its treasures
Shadow of a shade?

Schoolgirls we, eighteen and under,
From scholastic trammels free,
And we wonder – how we wonder! –
What on earth the world can be!

TRIO.

YUM-YUM, PEEP-BO, and PITTI-SING, with CHORUS OF GIRLS.

THE THREE. Three little maids from school are we,
Pert as a school-girl well can be,
Filled to the brim with girlish glee,
Three little maids from school!
YUM-YUM. Everything is a source of fun. (Chuckle.)
PEEP-BO. Nobody‘s safe, for we care for none! (Chuckle.)
PITTI-SING. Life is a joke that‘s just begun! (Chuckle.)
THE THREE. Three little maids from school!
ALL (dancing). Three little maids who, all unwary,
Come from a ladies‘ seminary,
Freed from its genius tutelary –
THE THREE (suddenly demure). Three little maids from school!

YUM-YUM. One little maid is a bride, Yum-Yum –
PEEP-BO. Two little maids in attendance come –
PITTI-SING. Three little maids is the total sum.
THE THREE. Three little maids from school!
YUM-YUM. From three little maids take one away.
PEEP-BO. Two little maids remain, and they –
PITTI-SING. Won‘t have to wait very long, they say –
THE THREE. Three little maids from school!
ALL (dancing). Three little maids who, all unwary,
Come from a ladies‘ seminary,
Freed from its genius tutelary –
THE THREE (suddenly demure). Three little maids from school!

Enter Ko-Ko and Pooh-Bah.

KO. At last, my bride that is to be! (About to embrace
her.)
YUM. You‘re not going to kiss me before all these people?
KO. Well, that was the idea.
YUM (aside to Peep-Bo). It seems odd, doesn‘t it?
PEEP. It‘s rather peculiar.
PITTI. Oh, I expect it‘s all right. Must have a beginning,
you know.
YUM. Well, of course I know nothing about these things; but
I‘ve no objection if it‘s usual.
KO. Oh, it‘s quite usual, I think. Eh, Lord Chamberlain?
(Appealing to Pooh-Bah.)
POOH. I have known it done. (Ko-Ko embraces her.)
YUM. Thank goodness that‘s over! (Sees Nanki-Poo, and
rushes to him.) Why, that‘s never you? (The three Girls rush to
him and shake his hands, all speaking at once.)
YUM. Oh, I‘m so glad! I haven‘t seen you for ever so long,
and I‘m right at the top of the school, and I‘ve got three
prizes, and I‘ve come home for good, and I‘m not going back any
more!
PEEP. And have you got an engagement? – Yum-Yum‘s got one,
but she doesn‘t like it, and she‘d ever so much rather it was
you! I‘ve come home for good, and I‘m not going back any more!
PITTI. Now tell us all the news, because you go about
everywhere, and we‘ve been at school, but, thank goodness, that‘s
all over now, and we‘ve come home for good, and we‘re not going
back any more!

(These three speeches are spoken together in one breath.)

KO. I beg your pardon. Will you present me?
YUM. Oh, this is the musician who used –
PEEP. Oh, this is the gentleman-who used –
PITTI. Oh, it is only Nanki-Poo who used –
KO. One at a time, if you please.
YUM. Oh, if you please he‘s the gentleman who used to play
so beautifully on the – on the –
PITTI. On the Marine Parade.
YUM. Yes, I think that was the name of the instrument.
NANK. Sir, I have the misfortune to love your ward,
Yum-Yum – oh, I know I deserve your anger!
KO. Anger! not a bit, my boy. Why, I love her myself.
Charming little girl, isn‘t she? Pretty eyes, nice hair. Taking
little thing, altogether. Very glad to hear my opinion backed by
a competent authority. Thank you very much. Good-bye. (To
Pish-Tush.) Take him away. (Pish-Tush removes him.)
PITTI (who has been examining Pooh-Bah). I beg your pardon,
but what is this? Customer come to try on?
KO. That is a Tremendous Swell.
PITTI. Oh, it‘s alive. (She starts back in alarm.)
POOH. Go away, little girls. Can‘t talk to little girls
like you. Go away, there‘s dears.
KO. Allow me to present you, Pooh-Bah. These are my three
wards. The one in the middle is my bride elect.
POOH. What do you want me to do to them? Mind, I will not
kiss them.
KO. No, no, you shan‘t kiss them; a little bow – a mere
nothing – you needn‘t mean it, you know.
POOH. It goes against the grain. They are not young
ladies, they are young persons.
KO. Come, come, make an effort, there‘s a good nobleman.
POOH. (aside to Ko-Ko). Well, I shan‘t mean it. (with a
great effort.) How de do, little girls, how de do? (Aside.)
Oh, my protoplasmal ancestor!
KO. That‘s very good. (Girls indulge in suppressed
laughter.)
POOH. I see nothing to laugh at. It is very painful to me
to have to say „How de do, little girls, how de do?“ to young
persons. I‘m not in the habit of saying „How de do, little
girls, how de do?“ to anybody under the rank of a Stockbroker.
KO. (aside to girls). Don‘t laugh at him, he can‘t help
it – he‘s under treatment for it. (Aside to Pooh-Bah.) Never mind
them, they don‘t understand the delicacy of your position.
POOH. We know how delicate it is, don‘t we?
KO. I should think we did! How a nobleman of your
importance can do it at all is a thing I never can, never shall
understand.
[Ko-Ko retires and goes off.

QUARTET AND CHORUS OF GIRLS.

YUM-YUM, PEEP-BO, PITTI-SING, and POOH-BAH.

YUM, PEEP. So please you, Sir, we much regret
and PITTI. If we have failed in etiquette
Towards a man of rank so high –
We shall know better by and by.
YUM. But youth, of course, must have its fling,
So pardon us,
So pardon us,
PITTI. And don‘t, in girlhood‘s happy spring,
Be hard on us,
Be hard on us,
If we‘re inclined to dance and sing.
Tra la la, etc. (Dancing.)
CHORUS OF GIRLS. But youth, of course, etc.
POOH. I think you ought to recollect
You cannot show too much respect
Towards the highly titled few;
But nobody does, and why should you?
That youth at us should have its fling,
Is hard on us,
Is hard on us;
To our prerogative we cling –
So pardon us,
So pardon us,
If we decline to dance and sing.
Tra la la, etc. (Dancing.)
CHORUS OF GIRLS.. But youth, of course, must have its fling, etc.

[Exeunt all but Yum-Yum.

Enter Nanki-Poo.

NANK. Yum-Yum, at last we are alone! I have sought you
night and day for three weeks, in the belief that your guardian
was beheaded, and I find that you are about to be married to him
this afternoon!
YUM. Alas, yes!
NANK. But you do not love him?
YUM. Alas, no!
NANK. Modified rapture! But why do you not refuse him?
YUM. What good would that do? He‘s my guardian, and he
wouldn‘t let me marry you!
NANK. But I would wait until you were of age!
YUM. You forget that in Japan girls do not arrive at years
of discretion until they are fifty.
NANK. True; from seventeen to forty-nine are considered
years of indiscretion.
YUM. Besides – a wandering minstrel, who plays a wind
instrument outside tea-houses, is hardly a fitting husband for
the ward of a Lord High Executioner.
NANK. But – – (Aside.) Shall I tell her? Yes! She will
not betray me! (Aloud.) What if it should prove that, after
all, I am no musician?
YUM. There! I was certain of it, directly I heard you
play!
NANK. What if it should prove that I am no other than the
son of his Majesty the Mikado?
YUM. The son of the Mikado! But why is your Highness
disguised? And what has your Highness done? And will your
Highness promise never to do it again?
NANK. Some years ago I had the misfortune to captivate
Katisha, an elderly lady of my father‘s Court. She misconstrued
my customary affability into expressions of affection, and
claimed me in marriage, under my father‘s law. My father, the
Lucius Junius Brutus of his race, ordered me to marry her within
a week, or perish ignominiously on the scaffold. That night I
fled his Court, and, assuming the disguise of a Second Trombone,
I joined the band in which you found me when I had the happiness
of seeing you! (Approaching her.)
YUM. (retreating). If you please, I think your Highness
had better not come too near. The laws against flirting are
excessively severe.
NANK. But we are quite alone, and nobody can see us.
YUM. Still, that don‘t make it right. To flirt is capital.
NANK. It is capital!
YUM. And we must obey the law.
NANK. Deuce take the law!
YUM. I wish it would, but it won‘t!
NANK. If it were not for that, how happy we might be!
YUM. Happy indeed!
NANK. If it were not for the law, we should now be sitting
side by side, like that. (Sits by her.)
YUM. Instead of being obliged to sit half a mile off, like
that. (Crosses and sits at other side of stage.)
NANK. We should be gazing into each other‘s eyes, like
that. (Gazing at her sentimentally.)
YUM. Breathing sighs of unutterable love – like that.
(Sighing and gazing lovingly at him.)
NANK. With our arms round each other‘s waists, like that.
(Embracing her.)
YUM. Yes, if it wasn‘t for the law.
NANK. If it wasn‘t for the law.
YUM. As it is, of course we couldn‘t do anything of the
kind.
NANK. Not for worlds!
YUM. Being engaged to Ko-Ko, you know!
NANK. Being engaged to Ko-Ko!

DUET – YUM-YUM and NANKI-POO.

NANK. Were you not to Ko-Ko plighted,
I would say in tender tone,
„Loved one, let us be united –
Let us be each other‘s own!“
I would merge all rank and station,
Worldly sneers are nought to us,
And, to mark my admiration,
I would kiss you fondly thus – (Kisses her.)
BOTH. I/He would kiss you/me fondly thus – (Kiss.)
YUM. But as I‘m engaged to Ko-Ko,
To embrace you thus, con fuoco,
Would distinctly be no giuoco,
And for yam I should get toko –

BOTH. Toko, toko, toko, toko!

NANK. So, In spite of all temptation,
Such a theme I‘ll not discuss,
And on no consideration
Will I kiss you fondly thus – (Kissing her.)
Let me make it clear to you,
This is what I‘ll never do!
This, oh, this, oh, this, oh, this, – (Kissing
her.)

TOGETHER. This, oh, this, etc.

[Exeunt in opposite directions.

Enter Ko-Ko.

KO. (looking after Yum-Yum). There she goes! To think how
entirely my future happiness is wrapped up in that little parcel!
Really, it hardly seems worth while! Oh, matrimony! – (Enter
Pooh-Bah and Pish-Tush.) Now then, what is it? Can‘t you see I‘m
soliloquizing? You have interrupted an apostrophe, sir!
PISH. I am the bearer of a letter from his Majesty the
Mikado.
KO. (taking it from him reverentially). A letter from the
Mikado! What in the world can he have to say to me? (Reads
letter.) Ah, here it is at last! I thought it would come sooner
or later! The Mikado is struck by the fact that no executions
have taken place in Titipu for a year, and decrees that unless
somebody is beheaded within one month the post of Lord High
Executioner shall be abolished, and the city reduced to the rank
of a village!
PISH. But that will involve us all in irretrievable ruin!
KO. Yes. There is no help for it, I shall have to execute
somebody at once. The only question is, who shall it be?
POOH. Well, it seems unkind to say so, but as you‘re
already under sentence of death for flirting, everything seems to
point to you.
KO. To me? What are you talking about? I can‘t execute
myself.
POOH. Why not?
KO. Why not? Because, in the first place, self
decapitation is an extremely difficult, not to say dangerous,
thing to attempt; and, in the second, it‘s suicide, and suicide
is a capital offence.
POOH. That is so, no doubt.
PISH. We might reserve that point.
POOH. True, it could be argued six months hence, before the
full Court.
KO. Besides, I don‘t see how a man can cut off his own
head.
POOH. A man might try.
PISH. Even if you only succeeded in cutting it half off,
that would be something.
POOH. It would be taken as an earnest of your desire to
comply with the Imperial will.
KO. No. Pardon me, but there I am adamant. As official
Headsman, my reputation is at stake, and I can‘t consent to
embark on a professional operation unless I see my way to a
successful result.
POOH. This professional conscientiousness is highly
creditable to you, but it places us in a very awkward position.
KO. My good sir, the awkwardness of your position is grace
itself compared with that of a man engaged in the act of cutting
off his own head.
–
KO. A substitute? Oh, certainly – nothing easier. (To
Pooh-Bah.) Pooh-Bah, I appoint you Lord High Substitute.
POOH. I should be delighted. Such an appointment would
realize my fondest dreams. But no, at any sacrifice, I must set
bounds to my insatiable ambition!

TRIO

Ko-Ko Pooh-Bah Pish-Tush

My brain it teams I am so proud, I heard one day
With endless schemes If I allowed A gentleman say
Both good and new My family pride That criminals who
For Titipu; To be my guide, Are cut in two
But if I flit, I‘d volunteer Can hardly feel
The benefit To quit this sphere The fatal steel,
That I‘d diffuse Instead of you And so are slain
The town would lose! In a minute or two, Without much pain.
Now every man But family pride If this is true,
To aid his clan Must be denied, It‘s jolly for you;
Should plot and plan And set aside, Your courage screw
As best he can, And mortified. To bid us adieu,
And so, And so, And go
Although Although And show
I‘m ready to go, I wish to go, Both friend and foe
Yet recollect And greatly pine How much you dare.
‚Twere disrespect To brightly shine, I‘m quite aware
Did I neglect And take the line It‘s your affair,
To thus effect Of a hero fine, Yet I declare
This aim direct, With grief condign I‘d take your share,
So I object – I must decline – But I don‘t much care –
So I object – I must decline – I don‘t much care –
So I object – I must decline – I don‘t much care –

ALL. To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark dock,
In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock,
Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock,
From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!
[Exeunt Pooh. and Pish.

KO. This is simply appalling! I, who allowed myself to be
respited at the last moment, simply in order to benefit my native
town, am now required to die within a month, and that by a man
whom I have loaded with honours! Is this public gratitude? Is
this – – (Enter Nanki-Poo, with a rope in his hands.) Go away,
sir! How dare you? Am I never to be permitted to soliloquize?
NANK. Oh, go on – don‘t mind me.
KO. What are you going to do with that rope?
NANK. I am about to terminate an unendurabIe existence.
KO. Terminate your existence? Oh, nonsense! What for?
NANK. Because you are going to marry the girl I adore.
KO. Nonsense, sir. I won‘t permit it. I am a humane man,
and if you attempt anything of the kind I shall order your
instant arrest. Come, sir, desist at once or I summon my guard.
NANK. That‘s absurd. If you attempt to raise an alarm, I
instantly perform the Happy Despatch with this dagger.
KO. No, no, don‘t do that. This is horrible! (Suddenly.)
Why, you cold-blooded scoundrel, are you aware that, in taking
your life, you are committing a crime which – which – which is – –
Oh! (Struck by an idea.) Substitute!
NANK. What‘s the matter?
KO. Is it absolutely certain that you are resolved to die?
NANK. Absolutely!
KO. Will nothing shake your resolution?
NANK. Nothing.
KO. Threats, entreaties, prayers – all useless?
NANK. All! My mind is made up.
KO. Then, if you really mean what you say, and if you are
absolutely resolved to die, and if nothing whatever will shake
your determination – don‘t spoil yourself by committing suicide,
but be beheaded handsomely at the hands of the Public
Executioner!
NANK. I don‘t see how that would benefit me.
KO. You don‘t? Observe: you‘ll have a month to live, and
you‘ll live like a fighting-cock at my expense. When the day
comes there‘ll be a grand public ceremonial – you‘ll be the
central figure – no one will attempt to deprive you of that
distinction. There‘ll be a procession – bands – dead march – bells
tolling – all the girls in tears – Yum-Yum distracted – then, when
it‘s all over, general rejoicings, and a display of fireworks in
the evening. You won‘t see them, but they‘ll be there all the
same.
NANK. Do you think Yum-Yum would really be distracted at my
death?
KO. I am convinced of it. Bless you, she‘s the most
tender-hearted little creature alive.
NANK. I should be sorry to cause her pain. Perhaps, after
all, if I were to withdraw from Japan, and travel in Europe for a
couple of years, I might contrive to forget her.
KO. Oh, I don‘t think you could forget Yum-Yum so easily;
and, after all, what is more miserable than a love-blighted life?
NANK. True.
KO. Life without Yum-Yum – why, it seems absurd!
NANK. And yet there are a good many people in the world who
have to endure it.
KO. Poor devils, yes! You are quite right not to be of
their number.
NANK. (suddenly). I won‘t be of their number!
KO. Noble fellow!
NANK. I‘ll tell you how we‘ll manage it. Let me marry
Yum-Yum to-morrow, and in a month you may behead me.
KO. No, no. I draw the line at Yum-Yum.
NANK. Very good. If you can draw the line, so can I.
(Preparing rope.)
KO. Stop, stop – listen one moment – be reasonable. How can
I consent to your marrying Yum-Yum if I‘m going to marry her
myself?
NANK. My good friend, she‘ll be a widow in a month, and you
can marry her then.
KO. That‘s true, of course. I quite see that. But, dear
me! my position during the next month will be most
unpleasant – most unpleasant.
NANK. Not half so unpleasant as my position at the end of
it.
KO. But – dear me! – well – I agree – after all, it‘s only
putting off my wedding for a month. But you won‘t prejudice her
against me, will you? You see, I‘ve educated her to be my wife;
she‘s been taught to regard me as a wise and good man. Now I
shouldn‘t like her views on that point disturbed.
NANK. Trust me, she shall never learn the truth from me.

FINALE.

Enter Chorus, Pooh-Bah, and Pish-Tush.

CHORUS.

With aspect stern
And gloomy stride,
We come to learn
How you decide.

Don‘t hesitate
Your choice to name,
A dreadful fate
You‘ll suffer all the same.

POOH. To ask you what you mean to do we punctually appear.
KO. Congratulate me, gentlemen, I‘ve found a Volunteer!
ALL. The Japanese equivalent for Hear, Hear, Hear!
KO. (presenting him). ‚Tis Nanki-Poo!
ALL. Hail, Nanki-Poo!
KO. I think he‘ll do?
ALL. Yes, yes, he‘ll do!

KO. He yields his life if I‘ll Yum-Yum surrender.
Now I adore that girl with passion tender,
And could not yield her with a ready will,
Or her allot,
If I did not
Adore myself with passion tenderer still!

Enter Yum-Yum, Peep-Bo, and Pitti-Sing.

ALL. Ah, yes!
He loves himself with passion tenderer still!
KO. (to Nanki-Poo). Take her – she‘s yours!
[Exit Ko-Ko

ENSEMBLE.

NANKI-POO. The threatened cloud has passed away,
YUM-YUM. And brightly shines the dawning day;
NANKI-POO. What though the night may come too soon,
YUM-YUM. There‘s yet a month of afternoon!

NANKI-POO, POOH-BAH, YUM-YUM, PITTI-SING,
and PEEP-BO.

Then let the throng
Our joy advance,
With laughing song
And merry dance,

CHORUS. With joyous shout and ringing cheer,
Inaugurate our brief career!

PITTI-SING. A day, a week, a month, a year –
YUM. Or far or near, or far or near,
POOH. Life‘s eventime comes much too soon,
PITTI-SING. You‘ll live at least a honeymoon!

ALL. Then let the throng, etc.

CHORUS. With joyous shout, etc.

SOLO – POOH-BAH.

As in a month you‘ve got to die,
If Ko-Ko tells us true,
‚Twere empty compliment to cry
„Long life to Nanki-Poo!“
But as one month you have to live
As fellow-citizen,
This toast with three times three we‘ll give –
„Long life to you – till then!“

[Exit Pooh-Bah.

CHORUS. May all good fortune prosper you,
May you have health and riches too,
May you succeed in all you do!
Long life to you – till then!

(Dance.)

Enter Katisha melodramatically

KAT. Your revels cease! Assist me, all of you!
CHORUS. Why, who is this whose evil eyes
Rain blight on our festivities?
KAT. I claim my perjured lover, Nanki-Poo!
Oh, fool! to shun delights that never cloy!
CHORUS. Go, leave thy deadly work undone!
KAT. Come back, oh, shallow fool! come back to joy!
CHORUS. Away, away! ill-favoured one!

NANK. (aside to Yum-Yum). Ah!
‚Tis Katisha!
The maid of whom I told you. (About to go.)

KAT. (detaining him). No!
You shall not go,
These arms shall thus enfold you!

SONG – KATISHA.

KAT. (addressing Nanki-Poo).
Oh fool, that fleest
My hallowed joys!
Oh blind, that seest
No equipoise!
Oh rash, that judgest
From half, the whole!
Oh base, that grudgest
Love‘s lightest dole!
Thy heart unbind,
Oh fool, oh blind!
Give me my place,
Oh rash, oh base!

CHORUS. If she‘s thy bride, restore her place,
Oh fool, oh blind, oh rash, oh base!

KAT. (addressing Yum-Yum).
Pink cheek, that rulest
Where wisdom serves!
Bright eye, that foolest
Heroic nerves!
Rose lip, that scornest
Lore-laden years!
Smooth tongue, that warnest
Who rightly hears!
Thy doom is nigh.
Pink cheek, bright eye!
Thy knell is rung,
Rose lip, smooth tongue!

CHORUS. If true her tale, thy knell is rung,
Pink cheek, bright eye, rose lip, smooth tongue!

PITTI-SING. Away, nor prosecute your quest –
From our intention, well expressed,
You cannot turn us!
The state of your connubial views
Towards the person you accuse
Does not concern us!
For he‘s going to marry Yum-Yum –
ALL. Yum-Yum!
PITTI. Your anger pray bury,
For all will be merry,
I think you had better succumb –
ALL. Cumb – cumb!
PITTI. And join our expressions of glee.
On this subject I pray you be dumb –
ALL. Dumb – dumb.
PITTI. You‘ll find there are many
Who‘ll wed for a penny –
The word for your guidance is „Mum“ –
ALL. Mum – mum!
PITTI. There‘s lots of good fish in the sea!

ALL. On this subject we pray you be dumb, etc.

SOLO – KATISHA.

The hour of gladness
Is dead and gone;
In silent sadness
I live alone!
The hope I cherished
All lifeless lies,
And all has perished
Save love, which never dies!
Oh, faithless one, this insult you shall rue!
In vain for mercy on your knees you‘ll sue.
I‘ll tear the mask from your disguising!

NANK. (aside). Now comes the blow!
KAT. Prepare yourselves for news surprising!
NANK. (aside). How foil my foe?
KAT. No minstrel he, despite bravado!
YUM. (aside, struck by an idea). Ha! ha! I know!
KAT. He is the son of your – –

(Nanki-Poo, Yum-Yum, and Chorus, interrupting, sing Japanese words,
to drown her voice.)

O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to!
KAT. In vain you interrupt with this tornado!
He is the only son of your – –
ALL. O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to!
KAT. I‘ll spoil – –
ALL. O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to!
KAT. Your gay gambado!
He is the son – –
ALL. O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to!
KAT. Of your – –
ALL. O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to!
KAT. The son of your – –
ALL. O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to! oya! oya!

ENSEMBLE.

KATISHA. THE OTHERS.

Ye torrents roar! We‘ll hear no more,
Ye tempests howl! Ill-omened owl.
Your wrath outpour To joy we soar,
With angry growl! Despite your scowl!
Do ye your worst, my vengeance The echoes of our festival
call
Shall rise triumphant over all! Shall rise triumphant over all!
Prepare for woe, Away you go,
Ye haughty lords, Collect your hordes;
At once I go Proclaim your woe
Mikado-wards, In dismal chords
My wrongs with vengeance shall We do not heed their dismal
be crowned! sound
My wrongs with vengeance shall For joy reigns everywhere
be crowned! around.

(Katisha rushes furiously up stage, clearing the crowd away right
and left, finishing on steps at the back of stage.)

END OF ACT I

ACT II

SCENE. – Ko-Ko‘s Garden.

Yum-Yum discovered seated at her bridal toilet, surrounded by
maidens, who are dressing her hair and painting her face and
lips, as she judges of the effect in a mirror.

SOLO – PITTI-SING and CHORUS OF GIRLS.

CHORUS. Braid the raven hair –
Weave the supple tress –
Deck the maiden fair
In her loveliness –
Paint the pretty face –
Dye the coral lip –
Emphasize the grace
Of her ladyship!
Art and nature, thus allied,
Go to make a pretty bride.

SOLO – PITTI-SING.

Sit with downcast eye
Let it brim with dew –
Try if you can cry –
We will do so, too.
When you‘re summoned, start
Like a frightened roe –
Flutter, little heart,
Colour, come and go!
Modesty at marriage-tide
Well becomes a pretty bride!

CHORUS.

Braid the raven hair, etc.

[Exeunt Pitti-Sing, Peep-Bo, and Chorus.

YUM. Yes, I am indeed beautiful! Sometimes I sit and
wonder, in my artless Japanese way, why it is that I am so much
more attractive than anybody else in the whole world. Can this
be vanity? No! Nature is lovely and rejoices in her loveliness.
I am a child of Nature, and take after my mother.

SONG – YUM-YUM.

The sun, whose rays
Are all ablaze
With ever-living glory,
Does not deny
His majesty –
He scorns to tell a story!
He don‘t exclaim,
„I blush for shame,
So kindly be indulgent.“
But, fierce and bold,
In fiery gold,
He glories effulgent!

I mean to rule the earth,
As he the sky –
We really know our worth,
The sun and I!

Observe his flame,
That placid dame,
The moon‘s Celestial Highness;
There‘s not a trace
Upon her face
Of diffidence or shyness:
She borrows light
That, through the night,
Mankind may all acclaim her!
And, truth to tell,
She lights up well,
So I, for one, don‘t blame her!

Ah, pray make no mistake,
We are not shy;
We‘re very wide awake,
The moon and I!

Enter Pitti-Sing and Peep-Bo.

YUM. Yes, everything seems to smile upon me. I am to be
married to-day to the man I love best and I believe I am the very
happiest girl in Japan!
PEEP. The happiest girl indeed, for she is indeed to be
envied who has attained happiness in all but perfection.
YUM. In „all but“ perfection?
PEEP. Well, dear, it can‘t be denied that the fact that
your husband is to be beheaded in a month is, in its way, a
drawback. It does seem to take the top off it, you know.
PITTI. I don‘t know about that. It all depends!
PEEP. At all events, he will find it a drawback.
PITTI. Not necessarily. Bless you, it all depends!
YUM. (in tears). I think it very indelicate of you to
refer to such a subject on such a day. If my married happiness
is to be – to be –
PEEP. Cut short.
YUM. Well, cut short – in a month, can‘t you let me forget
it? (Weeping.)

Enter Nanki-Poo, followed by Go-To.

NANK. Yum-Yum in tears – and on her wedding morn!
YUM. (sobbing). They‘ve been reminding me that in a month
you‘re to be beheaded! (Bursts into tears.)
PITTI. Yes, we‘ve been reminding her that you‘re to be
beheaded. (Bursts into tears.)
PEEP. It‘s quite true, you know, you are to be beheaded!
(Bursts into tears.)
NANK. (aside). Humph! Now, some bridegrooms would be
depressed by this sort of thing! (Aloud.) A month? Well,
what‘s a month? Bah! These divisions of time are purely
arbitrary. Who says twenty-four hours make a day?
PITTI. There‘s a popular impression to that effect.
NANK. Then we‘ll efface it. We‘ll call each second a
minute – each minute an hour – each hour a day – and each day a
year. At that rate we‘ve about thirty years of married happiness
before us!
PEEP. And, at that rate, this interview has already lasted
four hours and three-quarters!
[Exit Peep-Bo.
YUM. (still sobbing). Yes. How time flies when one is
thoroughly enjoying oneself!
NANK. That‘s the way to look at it! Don‘t let‘s be
downhearted! There‘s a silver lining to every cloud.
YUM. Certainly. Let‘s – let‘s be perfectly happy! (Almost
in tears.)
GO-TO. By all means. Let‘s – let‘s thoroughly enjoy
ourselves.
PITTI. It‘s – it‘s absurd to cry! (Trying to force a
laugh.)
YUM. Quite ridiculous! (Trying to laugh.)

(All break into a forced and melancholy laugh.)

MADRIGAL.

YUM-YUM, PITTI-SING, NANKI-POO, and PISH-TUSH

Brightly dawns our wedding day;
Joyous hour, we give thee greeting!
Whither, whither art thou fleeting?
Fickle moment, prithee stay!
What though mortal joys be hollow?
Pleasures come, if sorrows follow:
Though the tocsin sound, ere long,
Ding dong! Ding dong!
Yet until the shadows fall
Over one and over all,
Sing a merry madrigal –
A madrigal!

Fal-la – fal-la! etc. (Ending in tears.)

Let us dry the ready tear,
Though the hours are surely creeping
Little need for woeful weeping,
Till the sad sundown is near.
All must sip the cup of sorrow –
I to-day and thou to-morrow;
This the close of every song –
Ding dong! Ding dong!
What, though solemn shadows fall,
Sooner, later, over all?
Sing a merry madrigal –
A madrigal!

Fal-la – fal-la! etc. (Ending in tears.)

[Exeunt Pitti-Sing and Pish-Tush.

(Nanki-Poo embraces Yum-Yum. Enter Ko-Ko. Nanki-Poo releases
Yum-Yum.)

KO. Go on – don‘t mind me.
NANK. I‘m afraid we‘re distressing you.
KO. Never mind, I must get used to it. Only please do it
by degrees. Begin by putting your arm round her waist.
(Nanki-Poo does so.) There; let me get used to that first.
YUM. Oh, wouldn‘t you like to retire? It must pain you to
see us so affectionate together!
KO. No, I must learn to bear it! Now oblige me by allowing
her head to rest on your shoulder.
NANK. Like that? (He does so. Ko-Ko much affected.)
KO. I am much obliged to you. Now – kiss her! (He does so.
Ko-Ko writhes with anguish.) Thank you – it‘s simple torture!
YUM. Come, come, bear up. After all, it‘s only for a
month.
KO. No. It‘s no use deluding oneself with false hopes.
NANK. and YUM. What do you mean?
KO. (to Yum-Yum). My child – my poor child! (Aside.) How
shall I break it to her? (Aloud.) My little bride that was to
have been?
YUM. (delighted). Was to have been?
KO. Yes, you never can be mine!
NANK. and YUM. (simultaneously, in ecstacy) What!/I‘m so
glad!
KO. I‘ve just ascertained that, by the Mikado‘s law, when a
married man is beheaded his wife is buried alive.
NANK. and YUM. Buried alive!
KO. Buried alive. It‘s a most unpleasant death.
NANK. But whom did you get that from?
KO. Oh, from Pooh-Bah. He‘s my Solicitor.
YUM. But he may be mistaken!
KO. So I thought; so I consulted the Attorney General, the
Lord Chief Justice, the Master of the Rolls, the Judge Ordinary,
and the Lord Chancellor. They‘re all of the same opinion. Never
knew such unanimity on a point of law in my life!
NANK. But stop a bit! This law has never been put in
force.
KO. Not yet. You see, flirting is the only crime
punishable with decapitation, and married men never flirt.
NANK. Of course, they don‘t. I quite forgot that! Well, I
suppose I may take it that my dream of happiness is at an end!
YUM. Darling – I don‘t want to appear selfish, and I love
you with all my heart – I don‘t suppose I shall ever love anybody
else half as much – but when I agreed to marry you – my own – I had
no idea – pet – that I should have to be buried alive in a month!
NANK. Nor I! It‘s the very first I‘ve heard of it!
YUM. It – it makes a difference, doesn‘t it?
NANK. It does make a difference, of course.
YUM. You see – burial alive – it‘s such a stuffy death!
NANK. I call it a beast of a death.
YUM. You see my difficulty, don‘t you?
NANK. Yes, and I see my own. If I insist on your carrying
out your promise, I doom you to a hideous death; if I release
you, you marry Ko-Ko at once!

TRIO. – YUM-YUM, NANKI-POO, and KO-KO.

YUM. Here‘s a how-de-do!
If I marry you,
When your time has come to perish,
Then the maiden whom you cherish
Must be slaughtered, too!
Here‘s a how-de-do!

NANK. Here‘s a pretty mess!
In a month, or less,
I must die without a wedding!
Let the bitter tears I‘m shedding
Witness my distress,
Here‘s a pretty mess!

KO. Here‘s a state of things
To her life she clings!
Matrimonial devotion
Doesn‘t seem to suit her notion –
Burial it brings!
Here‘s a state of things!

ENSEMBLE

YUM-YUM and NANKI-POO. KO-KO.

With a passion that‘s intense With a passion that‘s intense
I worship and adore, You worship and adore,
But the laws of common sense But the laws of common sense
We oughtn‘t to ignore. You oughtn‘t to ignore.
If what he says is true, If what I say is true,
‚Tis death to marry you! ‚Tis death to marry you!
Here‘s a pretty state of things! Here‘s a pretty state of things!
Here‘s a pretty how-de-do! Here‘s a pretty how-de-do!

[Exit Yum-Yum.

KO. (going up to Nanki-Poo). My poor boy, I‘m really very
sorry for you.
NANK. Thanks, old fellow. I‘m sure you are.
KO. You see I‘m quite helpless.
NANK. I quite see that.
KO. I can‘t conceive anything more distressing than to have
one‘s marriage broken off at the last moment. But you shan‘t be
disappointed of a wedding – you shall come to mine.
NANK. It‘s awfully kind of you, but that‘s impossible.
KO. Why so?
NANK. To-day I die.
KO. What do you mean?
NANK. I can‘t live without Yum-Yum. This afternoon I
perform the Happy Despatch.
KO. No, no – pardon me – I can‘t allow that.
NANK. Why not?
KO. Why, hang it all, you‘re under contract to die by the
hand of the Public Executioner in a month‘s time! If you kill
yourself, what‘s to become of me? Why, I shall have to be
executed in your place!
NANK. It would certainly seem so!

Enter Pooh-Bah.

KO. Now then, Lord Mayor, what is it?
POOH. The Mikado and his suite are approaching the city,
and will be here in ten minutes.
KO. The Mikado! He‘s coming to see whether his orders have
been carried out! (To Nanki-Poo.) Now look here, you know – this
is getting serious – a bargain‘s a bargain, and you really mustn‘t
frustrate the ends of justice by committing suicide. As a man of
honour and a gentleman, you are bound to die ignominiously by the
hands of the Public Executioner.
NANK. Very well, then – behead me.
KO. What, now?
NANK. Certainly; at once.
POOH. Chop it off! Chop it off!
KO. My good sir, I don‘t go about prepared to execute
gentlemen at a moment‘s notice. Why, I never even killed a
blue-bottle!
POOH. Still, as Lord High Executioner – –
KO. My good sir, as Lord High Executioner, I‘ve got to
behead him in a month. I‘m not ready yet. I don‘t know how it‘s
done. I‘m going to take lessons. I mean to begin with a guinea
pig, and work my way through the animal kingdom till I come to a
Second Trombone. Why, you don‘t suppose that, as a humane man,
I‘d have accepted the post of Lord High Executioner if I hadn‘t
thought the duties were purely nominal? I can‘t kill you – I
can‘t kill anything! I can‘t kill anybody! (Weeps.)
NANK. Come, my poor fellow, we all have unpleasant duties
to discharge at times; after all, what is it? If I don‘t mind,
why should you? Remember, sooner or later it must be done.
KO. (springing up suddenly). Must it? I‘m not so sure
about that!
NANK. What do you mean?
KO. Why should I kill you when making an affidavit that
you‘ve been executed will do just as well? Here are plenty of
witnesses – the Lord Chief Justice, Lord High Admiral,
Commander-in-Chief, Secretary of State for the Home Department,
First Lord of the Treasury, and Chief Commissioner of Police.
NANK. But where are they?
KO. There they are. They‘ll all swear to it – won‘t you?
(To Pooh-Bah.)
POOH. Am I to understand that all of us high Officers of
State are required to perjure ourselves to ensure your safety?
KO. Why not! You‘ll be grossly insulted, as usual.
POOH. Will the insult be cash down, or at a date?
KO. It will be a ready-money transaction.
POOH. (Aside.) Well, it will be a useful discipline.
(Aloud.) Very good. Choose your fiction, and I‘ll endorse it!
(Aside.) Ha! ha! Family Pride, how do you like that, my buck?
NANK. But I tell you that life without Yum-Yum – –
KO. Oh, Yum-Yum, Yum-Yum! Bother Yum-Yum! Here,
Commissionaire (to Pooh-Bah), go and fetch Yum-Yum. (Exit
Pooh-Bah.) Take Yum-Yum and marry Yum-Yum, only go away and never
come back again. (Enter Pooh-Bah with Yum-Yum.) Here she is.
Yum-Yum, are you particularly busy?
YUM. Not particularly.
KO. You‘ve five minutes to spare?
YUM. Yes.
KO. Then go along with his Grace the Archbishop of Titipu;
he‘ll marry you at once.
YUM. But if I‘m to be buried alive?
KO. Now, don‘t ask any questions, but do as I tell you, and
Nanki-Poo will explain all.
NANK. But one moment – –
KO. Not for worlds. Here comes the Mikado, no doubt to
ascertain whether I‘ve obeyed his decree, and if he finds you
alive I shall have the greatest difficulty in persuading him that
I‘ve beheaded you. (Exeunt Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum, followed by
Pooh-Bah.) Close thing that, for here he comes!
[Exit Ko-Ko.

March. – Enter procession, heralding Mikado, with Katisha.

Entrance of Mikado and Katisha.

(„March of the Mikado‘s troops.“)

CHORUS. Miya sama, miya sama,
On n‘m-ma no maye ni
Pira-Pira suru no wa
Nan gia na
Toko tonyare tonyare na?

DUET – MIKADO and KATISHA.

MIK. From every kind of man
Obedience I expect;
I‘m the Emperor of Japan –

KAT. And I‘m his daughter-in-law elect!
He‘ll marry his son
(He‘s only got one)
To his daughter-in-law elect!

MIK. My morals have been declared
Particularly correct;

KAT. But they‘re nothing at all, compared
With those of his daughter-in-law elect!
Bow – Bow –
To his daughter-in-law elect!

ALL. Bow – Bow –
To his daughter-in-law elect.

MIK. In a fatherly kind of way
I govern each tribe and sect,
All cheerfully own my sway –

KAT. Except his daughter-in-law elect!
As tough as a bone,
With a will of her own,
Is his daughter-in-law elect!

MIK. My nature is love and light –
My freedom from all defect –

KAT. Is insignificant quite,
Compared with his daughter-in-law elect!
Bow – Bow –
To his daughter-in-law elect!

ALL. Bow – Bow –
To his daughter-in-law elect!

SONG – MIKADO and CHORUS.

A more humane Mikado never
Did in Japan exist,
To nobody second,
I‘m certainly reckoned
A true philanthropist.
It is my very humane endeavour
To make, to some extent,
Each evil liver
A running river
Of harmless merriment.

My object all sublime
I shall achieve in time –
To let the punishment fit the crime –
The punishment fit the crime;
And make each prisoner pent
Unwillingly represent
A source of innocent merriment!
Of innocent merriment!

All prosy dull society sinners,
Who chatter and bleat and bore,
Are sent to hear sermons
From mystical Germans
Who preach from ten till four.
The amateur tenor, whose vocal villainies
All desire to shirk,
Shall, during off-hours,
Exhibit his powers
To Madame Tussaud‘s waxwork.

The lady who dyes a chemical yellow
Or stains her grey hair puce,
Or pinches her figure,
Is painted with vigour
With permanent walnut juice.
The idiot who, in railway carriages,
Scribbles on window-panes,
We only suffer
To ride on a buffer
In Parliamentary trains.

My object all sublime, etc.

CHORUS. His object all sublime, etc.

The advertising quack who wearies
With tales of countless cures,
His teeth, I‘ve enacted,
Shall all be extracted
By terrified amateurs.
The music-hall singer attends a series
Of masses and fugues and „ops“
By Bach, interwoven
With Spohr and Beethoven,
At classical Monday Pops.

The billiard sharp who any one catches,
His doom‘s extremely hard –
He‘s made to dwell –
In a dungeon cell
On a spot that‘s always barred.
And there he plays extravagant matches
In fitless finger-stalls
On a cloth untrue
With a twisted cue
And elliptical billiard balls!

My object all sublime, etc.

CHORUS. His object all sublime, etc.

Enter Pooh-Bah, Ko-Ko, and Pitti-Sing. All kneel

(Pooh-Bah hands a paper to Ko-Ko.)

KO. I am honoured in being permitted to welcome your
Majesty. I guess the object of your Majesty‘s visit – your wishes
have been attended to. The execution has taken place.
MIK. Oh, you‘ve had an execution, have you?
KO. Yes. The Coroner has just handed me his certificate.
POOH. I am the Coroner. (Ko-Ko hands certificate to
Mikado.)
MIK. And this is the certificate of his death. (Reads.)
„At Titipu, in the presence of the Lord Chancellor, Lord Chief
Justice, Attorney-General, Secretary of State for the Home
Department, Lord Mayor, and Groom of the Second Floor Front – – “
POOH. They were all present, your Majesty. I counted them
myself.
MIK. Very good house. I wish I‘d been in time for the
performance.
KO. A tough fellow he was, too – a man of gigantic strength.
His struggles were terrific. It was a remarkable scene.
MIK. Describe it.

TRIO and CHORUS.

KO-KO, PITTI-SING, POOH-BAH and CHORUS.

KO. The criminal cried, as he dropped him down,
In a state of wild alarm –
With a frightful, frantic, fearful frown,
I bared my big right arm.
I seized him by his little pig-tail,
And on his knees fell he,
As he squirmed and struggled,
And gurgled and guggled,
I drew my snickersnee!
Oh, never shall I
Forget the cry,
Or the shriek that shrieked he,
As I gnashed my teeth,
When from its sheath
I drew my snickersnee!

CHORUS.

We know him well,
He cannot tell
Untrue or groundless tales –
He always tries
To utter lies,
And every time he fails.

PITTI. He shivered and shook as he gave the sign
For the stroke he didn‘t deserve;
When all of a sudden his eye met mine,
And it seemed to brace his nerve;
For he nodded his head and kissed his hand,
And he whistled an air, did he,
As the sabre true
Cut cleanly through
His cervical vertebrae!

When a man‘s afraid,
A beautiful maid
Is a cheering sight to see;
And it‘s oh, I‘m glad
That moment sad
Was soothed by sight of me!

CHORUS.

Her terrible tale
You can‘t assail,
With truth it quite agrees:
Her taste exact
For faultless fact
Amounts to a disease.

POOH. Now though you‘d have said that head was dead
(For its owner dead was he),
It stood on its neck, with a smile well-bred,
And bowed three times to me!
It was none of your impudent off-hand nods,
But as humble as could be;
For it clearly knew
The deference due
To a man of pedigree!
And it‘s oh, I vow,
This deathly bow
Was a touching sight to see;
Though trunkless, yet
It couldn‘t forget
The deference due to me!

CHORUS.

This haughty youth,
He speaks the truth
Whenever he finds it pays:
And in this case
It all took place
Exactly as he says!
[Exeunt Chorus.

MIK. All this is very interesting, and I should like to
have seen it. But we came about a totally different matter. A
year ago my son, the heir to the throne of Japan, bolted from our
Imperial Court.
KO. Indeed! Had he any reason to be dissatisfied with his
position?
KAT. None whatever. On the contrary, I was going to marry
him – yet he fled!
POOH. I am surprised that he should have fled from one so
lovely!
KAT. That‘s not true.
POOH. No!
KAT. You hold that I am not beautiful because my face is
plain. But you know nothing; you are still unenlightened.
Learn, then, that it is not in the face alone that beauty is to
be sought. My face is unattractive!
POOH. It is.
KAT. But I have a left shoulder-blade that is a miracle of
loveliness. People come miles to see it. My right elbow has a
fascination that few can resist.
POOH. Allow me!
KAT. It is on view Tuesdays and Fridays, on presentation of
visiting card. As for my circulation, it is the largest in the
world.
KO. And yet he fled!
MIK. And is now masquerading in this town, disguised as a
Second Trombone.
KO., POOH., and PITTI. A Second Trombone!
MIK. Yes; would it be troubling you too much if I asked you
to produce him? He goes by the name of – –
KAT. Nanki-Poo.
MIK. Nanki-Poo.
KO. It‘s quite easy. That is, it‘s rather difficult. In
point of fact, he‘s gone abroad!
MIK. Gone abroad! His address.
KO. Knightsbridge!
KAT. (who is reading certificate of death). Ha!
MIK. What‘s the matter?
KAT. See here – his name – Nanki-Poo – beheaded this morning.
Oh, where shall I find another? Where shall I find another?

[Ko-Ko, Pooh-Bah, and Pitti-Sing fall on their knees.

MIK. (looking at paper). Dear, dear, dear! this is very
tiresome. (To Ko-Ko.) My poor fellow, in your anxiety to carry
out my wishes you have beheaded the heir to the throne of Japan!
KO. I beg to offer an unqualified apology.
POOH. I desire to associate myself with that expression of
regret.
PITTI. We really hadn‘t the least notion –
MIK. Of course you hadn‘t. How could you? Come, come, my
good fellow, don‘t distress yourself – it was no fault of yours.
If a man of exalted rank chooses to disguise himself as a Second
Trombone, he must take the consequences. It really distresses me
to see you take on so. I‘ve no doubt he thoroughly deserved all
he got. (They rise.)
KO. We are infinitely obliged to your Majesty – –
PITTI. Much obliged, your Majesty.
POOH. Very much obliged, your Majesty.
MIK. Obliged? not a bit. Don‘t mention it. How could you
tell?
POOH. No, of course we couldn‘t tell who the gentleman
really was.
PITTI. It wasn‘t written on his forehead, you know.
KO. It might have been on his pocket-handkerchief, but
Japanese don‘t use pocket-handkerchiefs! Ha! ha! ha!
MIK. Ha! ha! ha! (To Katisha.) I forget the punishment for
compassing the death of the Heir Apparent.
KO., POOH, and PITTI. Punishment. (They drop down on their
knees again.)
MIK. Yes. Something lingering, with boiling oil in it, I
fancy. Something of that sort. I think boiling oil occurs in
it, but I‘m not sure. I know it‘s something humorous, but
lingering, with either boiling oil or melted lead. Come, come,
don‘t fret – I‘m not a bit angry.
KO. (in abject terror). If your Majesty will accept our
assurance, we had no idea – –
MIK. Of course – –
PITTI. I knew nothing about it.
POOH. I wasn‘t there.
MIK. That‘s the pathetic part of it. Unfortunately, the
fool of an Act says „compassing the death of the Heir Apparent.“
There‘s not a word about a mistake – –
KO., PITTI., and POOH. No!
MIK. Or not knowing – –
KO. No!
MIK. Or having no notion – –
PITTI. No!
MIK. Or not being there – –
POOH. No!
MIK. There should be, of course – – KO., PITTI., and POOH. Yes!
MIK. But there isn‘t.
KO., PITTI., and POOH. Oh!
MIK. That‘s the slovenly way in which these Acts are always
drawn. However, cheer up, it‘ll be all right. I‘ll have it
altered next session. Now, let‘s see about your execution – will
after luncheon suit you? Can you wait till then?
KO., PITTI., and POOH. Oh, yes – we can wait till then!
MIK. Then we‘ll make it after luncheon.
POOH. I don‘t want any lunch.
MIK. I‘m really very sorry for you all, but it‘s an unjust
world, and virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances.

GLEE.

PITTI-SING, KATISHA, KO-KO, POOH-BAH, and MIKADO,

MIK. See how the Fates their gifts allot,
For A is happy – B is not.
Yet B is worthy, I dare say,
Of more prosperity than A!
KO., POOH., and PITTI. Is B more worthy?
KAT. I should say
He‘s worth a great deal more than A.
ENSEMBLE: Yet A is happy!
Oh, so happy!
Laughing, Ha! ha!
Chaffing, Ha! ha!
Nectar quaffing, Ha! ha! ha!
Ever joyous, ever gay,
Happy, undeserving A!
KO., POOH., and PITTI. If I were Fortune – which I‘m not –
B should enjoy A‘s happy lot,
And A should die in miserie –
That is, assuming I am B.
MIK. and KAT. But should A perish?
KO., POOH., and PITTI. That should be
(Of course, assuming I am B).
B should be happy!
Oh, so happy!
Laughing, Ha! ha!
Chaffing, Ha! ha!
Nectar quaffing, Ha! ha! ha!
But condemned to die is he,
Wretched meritorious B!

[Exeunt Mikado and Katisha.

KO. Well, a nice mess you‘ve got us into, with your nodding
head and the deference due to a man of pedigree!
POOH. Merely corroborative detail, intended to give
artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing
narrative.
PITTI. Corroborative detail indeed! Corroborative
fiddlestick!
KO. And you‘re just as bad as he is with your cock –
and-a-bull stories about catching his eye and his whistling an
air. But that‘s so like you! You must put in your oar!
POOH. But how about your big right arm?
PITTI. Yes, and your snickersnee!
KO. Well, well, never mind that now. There‘s only one
thing to be done. Nanki-Poo hasn‘t started yet – he must come to
life again at once. (Enter Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum prepared for
journey.) Here he comes. Here, Nanki-Poo, I‘ve good news for
you – you‘re reprieved.
NANK. Oh, but it‘s too late. I‘m a dead man, and I‘m off
for my honeymoon.
KO. Nonsense! A terrible thing has just happened. It
seems you‘re the son of the Mikado.
NANK. Yes, but that happened some time ago.
KO. Is this a time for airy persiflage? Your father is
here, and with Katisha!
NANK. My father! And with Katisha!
KO. Yes, he wants you particularly.
POOH. So does she.
YUM. Oh, but he‘s married now.
KO. But, bless my heart! what has that to do with it?
NANK. Katisha claims me in marriage, but I can‘t marry her
because I‘m married already – consequently she will insist on my
execution, and if I‘m executed, my wife will have to be buried
alive.
YUM. You see our difficulty.
KO. Yes. I don‘t know what‘s to be done.
NANK. There‘s one chance for you. If you could persuade
Katisha to marry you, she would have no further claim on me, and
in that case I could come to life without any fear of being put
to death.
KO. I marry Katisha!
YUM. I really think it‘s the only course.
KO. But, my good girl, have you seen her? She‘s something
appalling!
PITTI. Ah! that‘s only her face. She has a left elbow
which people come miles to see!
POOH. I am told that her right heel is much admired by
connoisseurs.
KO. My good sir, I decline to pin my heart upon any lady‘s
right heel.
NANK. It comes to this: While Katisha is single, I prefer
to be a disembodied spirit. When Katisha is married, existence
will be as welcome as the flowers in spring.

DUET – NANKI-POO and KO-KO.

(With YUM-YUM, PITTI-SING, and POOH-BAH.)

NANK. The flowers that bloom in the spring,
Tra la,
Breathe promise of merry sunshine –
As we merrily dance and we sing,
Tra la,
We welcome the hope that they bring,
Tra la,
Of a summer of roses and wine.
And that‘s what we mean when we say that a
thing
Is welcome as flowers that bloom in the
spring.
Tra la la la la la, etc.

ALL. Tra la la la, etc.

KO. The flowers that bloom in the spring,
Tra la,
Have nothing to do with the case.
I‘ve got to take under my wing,
Tra la,
A most unattractive old thing,
Tra la,
With a caricature of a face
And that‘s what I mean when I say, or I sing,
„Oh, bother the flowers that bloom in the spring.“
Tra la la la la la, etc.

ALL. Tra la la la, Tra la la la, etc.

[Dance and exeunt Nanki-Poo, Yum-Yum, Pooh-Bah, Pitti-Sing, and Ko-Ko.

Enter Katisha.

RECITATIVE and SONG. – KATISHA.

Alone, and yet alive! Oh, sepulchre!
My soul is still my body‘s prisoner!
Remote the peace that Death alone can give –
My doom, to wait! my punishment, to live!

SONG.

Hearts do not break!
They sting and ache
For old love‘s sake,
But do not die,
Though with each breath
They long for death
As witnesseth
The living I!
Oh, living I!
Come, tell me why,
When hope is gone,
Dost thou stay on?
Why linger here,
Where all is drear?
Oh, living I!
Come, tell me why,
When hope is gone,
Dost thou stay on?
May not a cheated maiden die?

KO. (entering and approaching her timidly). Katisha!
KAT. The miscreant who robbed me of my love! But vengeance
pursues – they are heating the cauldron!
KO. Katisha – behold a suppliant at your feet!
Katisha – mercy!
KAT. Mercy? Had you mercy on him? See here, you! You
have slain my love. He did not love me, but he would have loved
me in time. I am an acquired taste – only the educated palate can
appreciate me. I was educating his palate when he left me.
Well, he is dead, and where shall I find another? It takes years
to train a man to love me. Am I to go through the weary round
again, and, at the same time, implore mercy for you who robbed me
of my prey – I mean my pupil – just as his education was on the
point of completion? Oh, where shall I find another?
KO. (suddenly, and with great vehemence). Here! – Here!
KAT. What!!!
KO. (with intense passion). Katisha, for years I have
loved you with a white-hot passion that is slowly but surely
consuming my very vitals! Ah, shrink not from me! If there is
aught of woman‘s mercy in your heart, turn not away from a
love-sick suppliant whose every fibre thrills at your tiniest
touch! True it is that, under a poor mask of disgust, I have
endeavoured to conceal a passion whose inner fires are broiling
the soul within me! But the fire will not be smothered – it
defies all attempts at extinction, and, breaking forth, all the
more eagerly for its long restraint, it declares itself in words
that will not be weighed – that cannot be schooled – that should
not be too severely criticised. Katisha, I dare not hope for
your love – but I will not live without it! Darling!
KAT. You, whose hands still reek with the blood of my
betrothed, dare to address words of passion to the woman you have
so foully wronged!
KO. I do – accept my love, or I perish on the spot!
KAT. Go to! Who knows so well as I that no one ever yet
died of a broken heart!
KO. You know not what you say. Listen!

SONG – KO-KO.

On a tree by a river a little tom-tit
Sang „Willow, titwillow, titwillow!“
And I said to him, „Dicky-bird, why do you sit
Singing Willow, titwillow, titwillow‘?“
„Is it weakness of intellect, birdie?“ I cried,
„Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?“
With a shake of his poor little head, he replied,
„Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!“

He slapped at his chest, as he sat on that bough,
Singing „Willow, titwillow, titwillow!“
And a cold perspiration bespangled his brow,
Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!
He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he gave,
Then he plunged himself into the billowy wave,
And an echo arose from the suicide‘s grave –
„Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!“

Now I feel just as sure as I‘m sure that my name
Isn‘t Willow, titwillow, titwillow,
That ‚twas blighted affection that made him exclaim
„Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!“
And if you remain callous and obdurate, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why,
Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
„Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!“

(During this song Katisha has been greatly affected, and at the
end is almost in tears.)

KAT. (whimpering). Did he really die of love?
KO. He really did.
KAT. All on account of a cruel little hen?
KO. Yes.
KAT. Poor little chap!
KO. It‘s an affecting tale, and quite true. I knew the
bird intimately.
KAT. Did you? He must have been very fond of her.
KO. His devotion was something extraordinary.
KAT. (still whimpering). Poor little chap! And – and if I
refuse you, will you go and do the same?
KO. At once.
KAT. No, no – you mustn‘t! Anything but that! (Falls on
his breast.) Oh, I‘m a silly little goose!
KO. (making a wry face). You are!
KAT. And you won‘t hate me because I‘m just a little teeny
weeny wee bit bloodthirsty, will you?
KO. Hate you? Oh, Katisha! is there not beauty even in
bloodthirstiness?
KAT. My idea exactly.

DUET – KATISHA and KO-KO.

KAT. There is beauty in the bellow of the blast,
There is grandeur in the growling of the gale,
There is eloquent outpouring
When the lion is a-roaring,
And the tiger is a-lashing of his tail!
KO. Yes, I like to see a tiger
From the Congo or the Niger,
And especially when lashing of his tail!
KAT. Volcanoes have a splendor that is grim,
And earthquakes only terrify the dolts,
But to him who‘s scientific
There‘s nothing that‘s terrific
In the falling of a flight of thunderbolts!
KO. Yes, in spite of all my meekness,
If I have a little weakness,
It‘s a passion for a flight of thunderbolts!

BOTH. If that is so,
Sing derry down derry!
It‘s evident, very,
Our tastes are one.
Away we‘ll go,
And merrily marry,
Nor tardily tarry
Till day is done!

KO. There is beauty in extreme old age –
Do you fancy you are elderly enough?
Information I‘m requesting
On a subject interesting:
Is a maiden all the better when she‘s tough?
KAT. Throughout this wide dominion
It‘s the general opinion
That she‘ll last a good deal longer when she‘s
tough.

KO. Are you old enough to marry, do you think?
Won‘t you wait till you are eighty in the shade?
There‘s a fascination frantic
In a ruin that‘s romantic;
Do you think you are sufficiently decayed?
KAT. To the matter that you mention
I have given some attention,
And I think I am sufficiently decayed.

BOTH. If that is so,
Sing derry down derry!
It‘s evident, very,
Our tastes are one!
Away we‘ll go,
And merrily marry,
Nor tardily tarry
Till day is done!
[Exeunt together.

Flourish. Enter the Mikado, attended by Pish-Tush and Court.

MIK. Now then, we‘ve had a capital lunch, and we‘re quite
ready. Have all the painful preparations been made?
PISH. Your Majesty, all is prepared.
MIK. Then produce the unfortunate gentleman and his two
well-meaning but misguided accomplices.

Enter Ko-Ko, Katisha, Pooh-Bah, and Pitti-Sing. They throw themselves
at the Mikado‘s feet

KAT. Mercy! Mercy for Ko-Ko! Mercy for Pitti-Sing! Mercy
even for Pooh-Bah!
MIK. I beg your pardon, I don‘t think I quite caught that
remark.
POOH. Mercy even for Pooh-Bah.
KAT. Mercy! My husband that was to have been is dead, and
I have just married this miserable object.
MIK. Oh! You‘ve not been long about it!
KO. We were married before the Registrar.
POOH. I am the Registrar.
MIK. I see. But my difficulty is that, as you have slain
the Heir Apparent – –

Enter Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum. They kneel.

NANK. The Heir Apparent is not slain.
MIK. Bless my heart, my son!
YUM. And your daughter-in-law elected!
KAT. (seizing Ko-Ko). Traitor, you have deceived me!
MIK. Yes, you are entitled to a little explanation, but I
think he will give it better whole than in pieces.
KO. Your Majesty, it‘s like this: It is true that I stated
that I had killed Nanki-Poo – –
MIK. Yes, with most affecting particulars.
POOH. Merely corroborative detail intended to give artistic
verisimilitude to a bald and – –
KO. Will you refrain from putting in your oar? (To
Mikado.) It‘s like this: When your Majesty says, „Let a thing be
done,“ it‘s as good as done – practically, it is done – because
your Majesty‘s will is law. Your Majesty says, „Kill a
gentleman,“ and a gentleman is told off to be killed.
Consequently, that gentleman is as good as dead – practically, he
is dead – and if he is dead, why not say so?
MIK. I see. Nothing could possibly be more satisfactory!

FINALE.

PITTI. For he‘s gone and married Yum-Yum –
ALL. Yum-Yum!
PITTI. Your anger pray bury,
For all will be merry,
I think you had better succumb –
ALL. Cumb – cumb.
PITTI. And join our expressions of glee!
KO. On this subject I pray you be dumb –
ALL. Dumb – dumb!
KO. Your notions, though many,
Are not worth a penny,
The word for your guidance is „Mum“ –
ALL. Mum – Mum!
KO. You‘ve a very good bargain in me.
ALL. On this subject we pray you be dumb –
Dumb – dumb!
We think you had better succumb –
Cumb – cumb!
You‘ll find there are many
Who‘ll wed for a penny,
There are lots of good fish in the sea.
YUM. and NANK. The threatened cloud has passed away,
And brightly shines the dawning day;
What though the night may come too soon,
We‘ve years and years of afternoon!
ALL. Then let the throng
Our joy advance,
With laughing song
And merry dance,
With joyous shout and ringing cheer,
Inaugurate our new career!
Then let the throng, etc.

CURTAIN.

Zur Übersicht zurück

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.

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

MUSICAL NUMBERS

Overture

ACT I– Exterior of Castle Bunthorne

1. Twenty love-sick maidens we (Opening Chorus and Solos) – Maidens, Angela, and Ella

2. Still brooding on their mad infatuation (Recitative) – Patience, Saphir, Angela, and Chorus

I cannot tell what this love may be (Solo) – Patience

2a. Twenty love-sick maidens we (Chorus) – Maidens

3. The soldiers of our Queen (Chorus and Solo) – Dragoons and Colonel

4. In a doleful train (Chorus and Solos) – Maidens, Ella, Angela, Saphir, Dragoons, and Bunthorne

4a. Twenty love-sick maidens we (Chorus) – Maidens

5. When I first put this uniform on (Solo and Chorus) – Colonel and Dragoons

6. Am I alone and unobserved? (Recitative and Solo) – Bunthorne

7. Long years ago, fourteen maybe (Duet) – Patience and Angela

8. Prithee, pretty maiden (Duet) – Patience and Grosvenor

8a. Though to marry you would very selfish be (Duet) – Patience and Grosvenor

9. Let the merry cymbals sound (Finale of Act I) – Ensemble

ACT II – A Glade

10. On such eyes as maidens cherish (Opening Chorus) – Maidens

11. Sad is that woman‘s lot (Recitative and Solo) – Jane

12. Turn, oh, turn in this direction (Chorus) – Maidens

13. A magnet hung in a hardware shop (Solo and Chorus) – Grosvenor and Maidens

14. Love is a plaintive song (Solo) – Patience

15. So go to him and say to him (Duet) – Jane and Bunthorne

16. It‘s clear that medieval art (Trio) – Duke, Major, and Colonel

17. If Saphir I choose to marry (Quintet) – Duke, Colonel, Major, Angela, and Saphir

18. When I go out of door (Duet) – Bunthorne and Grosvenor

19. I‘m a Waterloo House young man (Solo and Chorus) – Grosvenor and Maidens

20. After much debate internal (Finale of Act II) – Ensemble

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,

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 inusually 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!

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 not-too-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 heart- hungry? 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 up- stage, 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!

[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,

A classic measure.

[DRAGOONS enter down R., forming a line diagonally up to up-stage, 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!

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!

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 ill-

nature, 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 all-

wrong; 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

Zur Übersicht zurück

HMS Pinafore

or: The Lass that loved a Sailor

Libretto by William S. Gilbert
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

Dramatis Personae:

THE RT.HON SIR JOSEPH PORTER, K.C.B. (First Lord of the Admiralty).
CAPTAIN CORCORAN (Commanding H.M.S. Pinafore).
TOM TUCKER (Midshipmite).
RALPH RAKESTRAW (Able Seaman).
DICK DEADEYE (Able Seaman).
BILL BOBSTAY (Boatswain's Mate).
BOB BECKET (Carpenter's Mate).
JOSEPHINE (the Captain's Daughter).
HEBE (Sir Joseph Porter's First Cousin).
MRS. CRIPPS (LITTLE BUTTERCUP) (A Portsmouth Bumboat Woman).
First Lord's Sisters, his Cousins, his Aunts, Sailors, Marines, etc.

Scene: QUARTER-DECK OF H.M.S. PINAFORE, OFF PORTSMOUTH

ACT I. – Noon

ACT II. – Night

First produced at the Opera Comique on May 25, 1878.

ACT I

SCENE – Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore. Sailors, led by BOATSWAIN,
discovered cleaning brasswork, splicing rope, etc.

CHORUS

We sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship's a beauty;
We're sober men and true,
And attentive to our duty.
When the balls whistle free
O'er the bright blue sea,
We stand to our guns all day;
When at anchor we ride
On the Portsmouth tide,
We have plenty of time to play.

Enter LITTLE BUTTERCUP, with large basket on her arm

RECITATIVE

Hail, men-o'-war's men-safeguards of your nation
Here is an end, at last, of all privation;
You've got your play – spare all you can afford
To welcome Little Buttercup on board.

ARIA

For I'm called Little Buttercup – dear Little Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why,
But still I'm called Buttercup – poor little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup I!

I've snuff and tobaccy, and excellent jacky,
I've scissors, and watches, and knives
I've ribbons and laces to set off the faces
Of pretty young sweethearts and wives.

I've treacle and toffee, I've tea and I've coffee,
Soft tommy and succulent chops;
I've chickens and conies, and pretty polonies,
And excellent peppermint drops.

Then buy of your Buttercup – dear Little Buttercup;
Sailors should never be shy;
So, buy of your Buttercup – poor Little Buttercup;
Come, of your Buttercup buy!

BOAT. Aye, Little Buttercup – and well called – for you're the rosiest,
the roundest, and the reddest beauty in all Spithead.
BUT. Red, am I? and round – and rosy! Maybe, for I have dissembled well!
But hark ye, my merry friend – hast ever thought that beneath a gay and
frivolous exterior there may lurk a canker-worm which is slowly but
surely eating its way into one's very heart?

BOAT. No, my lass, I can't say I've ever thought that.

Enter DICK DEADEYE. He pushes through sailors, and comes down

DICK. I have thought it often. (All recoil from him.)
BUT. Yes, you look like it! What's the matter with the man? Isn't he
well?
BOAT. Don't take no heed of him; that's only poor Dick Deadeye.
DICK. I say – it's a beast of a name, ain't it – Dick Deadeye?
BUT. It's not a nice name.
DICK. I'm ugly too, ain't I?
BUT. You are certainly plain.
DICK. And I'm three-cornered too, ain't I?
BUT. You are rather triangular.
DICK. Ha! ha! That's it. I'm ugly, and they hate me for it; for you all
hate me, don't you?
ALL. We do!
DICK. There!
BOAT. Well, Dick, we wouldn't go for to hurt any fellow creature's
feelings, but you can't expect a chap with such a name as Dick Deadeye to
be a popular character – now can you?
DICK. No.
BOAT. It's asking too much, ain't it?
DICK. It is. From such a face and form as mine the noblest sentiments
sound like the black utterances of a depraved imagination It is human
nature – I am resigned.

RECITATIVE

BUT. (looking down hatchway).
But, tell me – who's the youth whose faltering feet
With difficulty bear him on his course?
BOAT. That is the smartest lad in all the fleet –
Ralph Rackstraw!
BUT. Ha! That name! Remorse! remorse!

Enter RALPH from hatchway

MADRIGAL – RALPH

The Nightingale
Sighed for the moon's bright ray
And told his tale
In his own melodious way!
He sang „Ah, well-a-day!„

ALL. He sang „Ah, well-a-day!“ The lowly vale
For the mountain vainly sighed,
To his humble wail
The echoing hills replied.
They sang „Ah, well-a-day!„

All. They sang „Ah, well-a-day!„

RECITATIVE

I know the value of a kindly chorus,
But choruses yield little consolation
When we have pain and sorrow too before us!
I love – and love, alas, above my station!

BUT. (aside). He loves – and loves a lass above his station!
ALL (aside). Yes, yes, the lass is much above his station!

Exit LITTLE BUTTERCUP

BALLAD – RALPH

A maiden fair to see,
The pearl of minstrelsy,
A bud of blushing beauty;
For whom proud nobles sigh,
And with each other vie
To do her menial's duty.
ALL. To do her menial's duty.

A suitor, lowly born,
With hopeless passion torn,
And poor beyond denying,
Has dared for her to pine
At whose exalted shrine
A world of wealth is sighing.
ALL. A world of wealth is sighing.

Unlearned he in aught
Save that which love has taught
(For love had been his tutor);
Oh, pity, pity me –
Our captain's daughter she,
And I that lowly suitor!
ALL. And he that lowly suitor!

BOAT. Ah, my poor lad, you've climbed too high: our worthy captain's
child won't have nothin' to say to a poor chap like you. Will she, lads?
ALL. No, no.
DICK. No, no, captains' daughters don't marry foremast hands.
ALL (recoiling from him). Shame! shame!
BOAT. Dick Deadeye, them sentiments o' yourn are a disgrace to our
common natur'.
RALPH, But it's a strange anomaly, that the daughter of a man who hails
from the quarter-deck may not love another who lays out on the fore-yard
arm. For a man is but a man, whether he hoists his flag at the main-truck
or his slacks on the main-deck.
DICK. Ah, it's a queer world!
RALPH. Dick Deadeye, I have no desire to press hardly on you, but such
a revolutionary sentiment is enough to make an honest sailor shudder.
BOAT. My lads, our gallant captain has come on deck; let us greet him
as so brave an officer and so gallant a seaman deserves.

Enter CAPTAIN CORCORAN

RECITATIVE

CAPT. My gallant crew, good morning.
ALL (saluting). Sir, good morning!
CAPT. I hope you're all quite well.
ALL(as before). Quite well; and you, sir?
CAPT. I am in reasonable health, and happy
To meet you all once more.
ALL (as before). You do us proud, sir!

SONG – CAPTAIN

CAPT. I am the Captain of the Pinafore;
ALL. And a right good captain, tool
You're very, very good,
And be it understood,
I command a right good crew,
ALL. We're very, very good,
And be it understood,
He commands a right good crew.
CAPT. Though related to a peer,
I can hand, reef, and steer,
And ship a selvagee;
I am never known to quail
At the furry of a gale,
And I'm never, never sick at sea!
ALL. What, never?
CAPT. No, never!
ALL. What, never?
CAPT. Hardly ever!
ALL. He's hardly ever sick at seal
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore!

CAPT. I do my best to satisfy you all –
ALL. And with you we're quite content.
CAPT. You're exceedingly polite,
And I think it only right
To return the compliment.
ALL. We're exceedingly polite,
And he thinks it's only right
To return the compliment.
CAPT. Bad language or abuse,
I never, never use,
Whatever the emergency;
Though „Bother it“ I may
Occasionally say,
I never use a big, big D –
ALL. What, never?
CAPT. No, never!
ALL. What, never?
CAPT. Hardly ever!
ALL. Hardly ever swears a big, big D –
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the well-bred Captain of the Pinafore!
[After song exeunt all but CAPTAIN]

Enter LITTLE BUTTERCUP

RECITATIVE

BUT. Sir, you are sad! The silent eloquence
Of yonder tear that trembles on your eyelash
Proclaims a sorrow far more deep than common;
Confide in me – fear not – I am a mother!

CAPT. Yes, Little Buttercup, I'm sad and sorry –
My daughter, Josephine, the fairest flower
That ever blossomed on ancestral timber,
Is sought in marriage by Sir Joseph Porter,
Our Admiralty's First Lord, but for some reason
She does not seem to tackle kindly to it.

BUT, (with emotion). Ah, poor Sir Joseph! Ah, I know too well
The anguish of a heart that loves but vainly!
But see, here comes your most attractive daughter.
I go – Farewell! [Exit.

CAPT. (looking after her). A plump and pleasing person! [Exit.

Enter JOSEPHINE, twining some flowers which she carries in a small
basket

BALLAD JOSEPHINE

Sorry her lot who loves too well,
Heavy the heart that hopes but vainly,
Sad are the sighs that own the spell,
Uttered by eyes that speak too plainly;
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When love is alive and hope is dead!

Sad is the hour when sets the sun –
Dark is the night to earth's poor daughters,
When to the ark the wearied one
Flies from the empty waste of waters!
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When love is alive and hope is dead!

Enter CAPTAIN

CAPT. My child, I grieve to see that you are a prey to melancholy. You
should look your best to-day, for Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B., will be here
this afternoon to claim your promised hand.
JOS. Ah, father, your words cut me to the quick. I can esteem –
reverence – venerate Sir Joseph, for he is a great and good man; but oh, I
cannot love him! My heart is already given.
CAPT. (aside). It is then as I feared. (Aloud.) Given? And to whom? Not
to some gilded lordling?
JOS. No, father – the object of my love is no lordling. Oh, pity me, for
he is but a humble sailor on board your own ship!
CAPT. Impossible!
JOS. Yes, it is true.
CAPT. A common sailor? Oh fie!
JOS. I blush for the weakness that allows me to cherish such a passion.
I hate myself when I think of the depth to which I have stooped in
permitting myself to think tenderly of one so ignobly born, but I love
him! I love him! I love him! (Weeps.)
CAPT. Come, my child, let us talk this over. In a matter of the heart I
would not coerce my daughter – I attach but little value to rank or
wealth, but the line must be drawn somewhere. A man in that station may
be brave and worthy, but at every step he would commit solecisms that
society would never pardon.
JOS. Oh, I have thought of this night and day. But fear not, father, I
have a heart, and therefore I love; but I am your daughter, and therefore
I am proud. Though I carry my love with me to the tomb, he shall never,
never know it.
CAPT. You are my daughter after all. But see, Sir Joseph's barge
approaches, manned by twelve trusty oarsmen and accompanied by the
admiring crowd of sisters, cousins, and aunts that attend him wherever he
goes. Retire, my daughter, to your cabin – take this, his photograph, with
you – it may help to bring you to a more reasonable frame of mind.
JOS. My own thoughtful father!

[Exit JOSEPHINE. CAPTAIN remains and ascends the poop-deck.

BARCAROLLE. (invisible)

Over the bright blue sea
Comes Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B.,
Wherever he may go
Bang-bang the loud nine-pounders go!
Shout o'er the bright blue sea
For Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B.

[During this the Crew have entered on tiptoe, listening attentive to
the song.

CHORUS OF SAILORS

Sir Joseph's barge is seen,
And its crowd of blushing beauties,
We hope he'll find us clean,
And attentive to our duties.
We sail, we sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship's a beauty.
We're sober, sober men and true
And attentive to our duty.
We're smart and sober men,
And quite devoid of fe-ar,
In all the Royal N.
None are so smart as we are.

Enter SIR JOSEPH'S FEMALE RELATIVES

(They dance round stage)

REL. Gaily tripping,
Lightly skipping,
Flock the maidens to the shipping.
SAILORS. Flags and guns and pennants dipping!
All the ladies love the shipping.
REL. Sailors sprightly
Always rightly
Welcome ladies so politely.
SAILORS. Ladies who can smile so brightly,
Sailors welcome most politely.
CAPT. (from poop). Now give three cheers, I'll lead the way
ALL. Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurray!

Enter SIR JOSEPH with COUSIN HEBE

SONG – SIR JOSEPH

I am the monarch of the sea,
The ruler of the Queen's Navee,
Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants.
COUSIN HEBE. And we are his sisters, and his cousins and his aunts!
REL. And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
SIR JOSEPH. When at anchor here I ride,
My bosom swells with pride,
And I snap my fingers at a foeman's taunts;
COUSIN HEBE. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
SIR JOSEPH. But when the breezes blow,
I generally go below,
And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants;
COUSIN HEBE. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
His sisters and his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
And his aunts!

SONG – SIR JOSEPH

When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney's firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.
I polished up that handle so carefullee
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS. – He polished, etc.

As office boy I made such a mark
That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.
I served the writs with a smile so bland,
And I copied all the letters in a big round hand –
I copied all the letters in a hand so free,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.- He copied, etc.

In serving writs I made such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;
I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit
For the pass examination at the Institute,
And that pass examination did so well for me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS. – And that pass examination, etc.

Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership.
And that junior partnership, I ween,
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.
But that kind of ship so suited me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.- But that kind, etc.

I grew so rich that I was sent
By a pocket borough into Parliament.
I always voted at my party's call,
And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.
I thought so little, they rewarded me
By making me the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.- He thought so little, etc.

Now landsmen all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,
Be careful to be guided by this golden rule –
Stick close to your desks and never go to sea,
And you all may be rulers of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS. – Stick close, etc.

SIR JOSEPH. You've a remarkably fine crew, Captain Corcoran.
CAPT. It is a fine crew, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. (examining a very small midshipman). A British sailor is a
splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran.
CAPT. A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain Corcoran.
CAPT. Indeed I hope so, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH, Never forget that they are the bulwarks of England's
greatness, Captain Corcoran.
CAPT. So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. No bullying, I trust – no strong language of any kind, eh?
CAPT. Oh, never, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. What, never?
CAPT. Hardly ever, Sir Joseph. They are an excellent crew, and do their
work thoroughly without it.
SIR JOSEPH. Don't patronise them, sir – pray, don't patronise them.
CAPT. Certainly not, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. That you are their captain is an accident of birth. I
cannot permit these noble fellows to be patronised because an accident of
birth has placed you above them and them below you.
CAPT. I am the last person to insult a British sailor, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran. Desire
that splendid seaman to step forward.

(DICK comes forward)

SIR JOSEPH. No, no, the other splendid seaman.
CAPT. Ralph Rackstraw, three paces to the front – march!
SIR JOSEPH (sternly). If what?
CAPT. I beg your pardon – I don't think I understand you.
SIR JOSEPH. If you please.
CAPT. Oh, yes, of course. If you please. (RALPH steps forward.)
SIR JOSEPH. You're a remarkably fine fellow.
RALPH. Yes, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. And a first-rate seaman, I'll be bound.
RALPH. There's not a smarter topman in the Navy, your honour, though I
say it who shouldn't.
SIR JOSEPH. Not at all. Proper self-respect, nothing more. Can you
dance a hornpipe?
RALPH. No, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. That's a pity: all sailors should dance hornpipes. I will
teach you one this evening, after dinner. Now tell me – don't be afraid –
how does your captain treat you, eh?
RALPH. A better captain don't walk the deck, your honour.
ALL. Aye; Aye!
SIR JOSEPH. Good. I like to hear you speak well of your commanding
officer; I daresay he don't deserve it, but still it does you credit. Can
you sing?
RALPH. I can hum a little, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. Then hum this at your leisure. (Giving him MS. music.) It
is a song that I have composed for the use of the Royal Navy. It is
designed to encourage independence of thought and action in the lower
branches of the service, and to teach the principle that a British sailor
is any man's equal, excepting mine. Now, Captain Corcoran, a word with
you in your cabin, on a tender and sentimental subject.
CAPT. Aye, aye,
Sir Joseph (Crossing) Boatswain, in commemoration of this joyous
occasion, see that extra grog is served out to the ship's company at
seven bells.
BOAT. Beg pardon. If what, your honour?
CAPT. If what? I don't think I understand you.
BOAT. If you please, your honour.
CAPT. What!
SIR JOSEPH. The gentleman is quite right. If you please.
CAPT. (stamping his foot impatiently). If you please!
[Exit.

SIR JOSEPH. For I hold that on the seas
The expression, „if you please“ ,
A particularly gentlemanly tone implants.
COUSIN HEBE. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

[Exeunt SIR JOSEPH AND RELATIVES.

BOAT. Ah! Sir Joseph's true gentleman; courteous and considerate to the
very humblest.
RALPH. True, Boatswain, but we are not the very humblest. Sir Joseph
has explained our true position to us. As he says, a British seaman is
any man's equal excepting his, and if Sir Joseph says that, is it not our
duty to believe him?
ALL. Well spoke! well spoke!
DICK. You're on a wrong tack, and so is he. He means well, but he don't
know. When people have to obey other people's orders, equality's out of
the question.
ALL (recoiling). Horrible! horrible!
BOAT. Dick Deadeye, if you go for to infuriate this here ship's company
too far, I won't answer for being able to hold 'em in. I'm shocked!
that's what I am – shocked!
RALPH. Messmates, my mind's made up. I'll speak to the captain's
daughter, and tell her, like an honest man, of the honest love I have for
her.
ALL. Aye, aye!
RALPH. Is not my love as good as another's? Is not my heart as true as
another's? Have I not hands and eyes and ears and limbs like another?
ALL. Aye, Aye!
RALPH. True, I lack birth –
BOAT. You've a berth on board this very ship.
RALPH. Well said – I had forgotten that. Messmates – what do you say? Do
you approve my determination?
ALL. We do.
DICK. I don t.
BOAT. What is to be done with this here hopeless chap? Let us sing him
the song that Sir Joseph has kindly composed for us. Perhaps it will
bring this here miserable creetur to a proper state of mind.

GLEE! – RALPH, BOATSWAIN, BOATSWAIN'S MATE, and CHORUS

A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word.
His nose should pant and his lip should curl,
His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl,
His bosom should heave and his heart should glow,
And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.

CHORUS. – His nose should pant, etc.

His eyes should flash with an inborn fire,
His brow with scorn be wrung;
He never should bow down to a domineering frown,
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue.
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl;
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude – (pose).

CHORUS. – His foot should stamp, etc.

[All dance off excepting RALPH, who remains, leaning pensively against
bulwark.

Enter JOSEPHINE from cabin

JOS. It is useless – Sir Joseph's attentions nauseate me. I know that he
is a truly great and good man, for he told me so himself, but to me he
seems tedious, fretful, and dictatorial. Yet his must be a mind of no
common order, or he would not dare to teach my dear father to dance a
hornpipe on the cabin table. (Sees RALPH.) Ralph Rackstraw! (Overcome by
emotion.)
RALPH. Aye, lady – no other than poor Ralph Rackstraw!
JOS. (aside). How my heart beats! (Aloud) And why poor, Ralph?
RALPH. I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady – rich only in never-
ending unrest. In me there meet a combination of antithetical elements
which are at eternal war with one another. Driven hither by objective
influences – thither by subjective emotions – wafted one moment into
blazing day, by mocking hope – plunged the next into the Cimmerian
darkness of tangible despair, I am but a living ganglion of
irreconcilable antagonisms. I hope I make myself clear, lady?
JOS. Perfectly. (Aside.) His simple eloquence goes to my heart. Oh, if
I dared – but no, the thought is madness! (Aloud.) Dismiss these foolish
fancies, they torture you but needlessly. Come, make one effort.
RALPH (aside). I will – one. (Aloud.) Josephine!
JOS. (Indignantly). Sir!
RALPH. Aye, even though Jove's armoury were launched at the head of the
audacious mortal whose lips, unhallowed by relationship, dared to breathe
that precious word, yet would I breathe it once, and then perchance be
silent evermore. Josephine, in one brief breath I will concentrate the
hopes, the doubts, the anxious fears of six weary months. Josephine, I am
a British sailor, and I love you!
JOS. Sir, this audacity! (Aside.) Oh, my heart, my beating heart!
(Aloud.) This unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common sailor!
(Aside.) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (Crossing, aloud.) Oh, sir,
you forget the disparity in our ranks.
RALPH. I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my life
is in your hand – I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I lack in
education and polite accomplishments, that I will endeavour to acquire.
Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for consolation. I
am proud and cannot stoop to implore. I have spoken and I wait your word.
JOS. You shall not wait long. Your proffered love I haughtily reject.
Go, sir, and learn to cast your eyes on some village maiden in your own
poor rank – they should be lowered before your captain's daughter.

DUET – JOSEPHINE and RALPH

JOS. Refrain, audacious tar,
Your suit from pressing,
Remember what you are,
And whom addressing!
(Aside.) I'd laugh my rank to scorn
In union holy,
Were he more highly born
Or I more lowly!
RALPH. Proud lady, have your way,
Unfeeling beauty!
You speak and I obey,
It is my duty!
I am the lowliest tar
That sails the water,
And you, proud maiden, are
My captain's daughter!
(Aside.) My heart with anguish torn
Bows down before her,
She laughs my love to scorn,
Yet I adore her!

[Repeat refrain, ensemble, then exit JOSEPHINE into cabin.

RALPH. (Recit.) Can I survive this overbearing
Or live a life of mad despairing,
My proffered love despised, rejected?
No, no, it's not to be expected!
(Calling off.)
Messmates, ahoy!
Come here! Come here!

Enter SAILORS, HEBE, and RELATIVES

ALL. Aye, aye, my boy,
What cheer, what cheer?
Now tell us, pray,
Without delay,
What does she say –
What cheer, what cheer?

RALPH (to COUSIN HEBE). The maiden treats my suit with scorn,
Rejects my humble gift, my lady;
She says I am ignobly born,
And cuts my hopes adrift, my lady.
ALL. Oh, cruel one.

DICK. She spurns your suit? Oho! Oho!
I told you so, I told you so.

SAILORS and RELATIVES.
Shall { we } submit? Are { we } but slaves?
they they
Love comes alike to high and low –
Britannia's sailors rule the waves,
And shall they stoop to insult? No!

DICK. You must submit, you are but slaves;
A lady she! Oho! Oho!
You lowly toilers of the waves,
She spurns you all – I told you so!

RALPH. My friends, my leave of life I'm taking,
For oh, my heart, my heart is breaking.
When I am gone, oh, prithee tell
The maid that, as I died, I loved her well!

ALL (turning away, weeping). Of life, alas! his leave he's taking,
For ah! his faithful heart is breaking;
When he is gone we'll surely tell
The maid that, as he died, he loved her well.

[During Chorus BOATSWAIN has loaded pistol, which he hands to RALPH.

RALPH. Be warned, my messmates all
Who love in rank above you –
For Josephine I fall!

[Puts pistol to his head. All the sailors stop their ears.

Enter JOSEPHINE on deck

JOS. Ah! stay your hand – I love you!
ALL. Ah! stay your hand – she loves you!
RALPH. (incredulously). Loves me?
JOS. Loves you!
ALL. Yes, yes – ah, yes, – she loves you!

ENSEMBLE

SAILORS and RELATIVES and JOSEPHINE

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen,
For now the sky is all serene;
The god of day – the orb of love –
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all ablaze.

With wooing words and loving song,
We'll chase the lagging hours along,
And if {I find } the maiden coy,
we find
I'll } murmur forth decorous joy
We'll
In dreamy roundelays!

DICK DEADEYE

He thinks he's won his Josephine,
But though the sky is now serene,
A frowning thunderbolt above
May end their ill-assorted love
Which now is all ablaze.

Our captain, ere the day is gone,
Will be extremely down upon
The wicked men who art employ
To make his Josephine less coy
In many various ways. [Exit DICK.

JOS. This very night,
HEBE. With bated breath
RALPH. And muffled oar –
JOS. Without a light,
HEBE. As still as death,
RALPH. We'll steal ashore
JOS. A clergyman
RALPH. Shall make us one
BOAT, At half-past ten,
JOS. And then we can
RALPH Return, for none
BOAT. Can part them then!
ALL. This very night, etc.

(DICK appears at hatchway.)

DICK. Forbear, nor carry out the scheme you've planned;
She is a lady – you a foremast hand!
Remember, she's your gallant captain's daughter,
And you the meanest slave that crawls the water!
ALL. Back, vermin, back,
Nor mock us!
Back, vermin, back,
You shock us!
[Exit DICK

Let's give three cheers for the sailor's bride
Who casts all thought of rank aside –
Who gives up home and fortune too
For the honest love of a sailor true!
For a British tar is a soaring soul
As free as a mountain bird!
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word!
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl,
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude – (pose).

GENERAL DANCE

END OF ACT I

ACT II

Same Scene. Night. Awning removed. Moonlight. CAPTAIN discovered
singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on a mandolin. LITTLE
BUTTERCUP seated on quarterdeck, gazing sentimentally at him.

SONG – CAPTAIN

Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
I have lived hitherto
Free from breath of slander,
Beloved by all my crew –
A really popular commander.
But now my kindly crew rebel,
My daughter to a tar is partial,
Sir Joseph storms, and, sad to tell,
He threatens a court martial!
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?

BUT. How sweetly he carols forth his melody to the unconscious
moon! Of whom is he thinking? Of some high-born beauty? It may be! Who is
poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his glance to fall on one so
lowly! And yet if he knew – if he only knew!
CAPT. (coming down). Ah! Little Buttercup, still on board? That is
not quite right, little one. It would have been more respectable to have
gone on shore at dusk.
BUT, True, dear Captain – but the recollection of your sad pale
face seemed to chain me to the ship. I would fain see you smile before I
go.
CAPT. Ah! Little Buttercup, I fear it will be long before I
recover my accustomed cheerfulness, for misfortunes crowd upon me, and
all my old friends seem to have turned against me!
BUT, Oh no – do not say „all“ , dear Captain. That were unjust to
one, at least.
CAPT. True, for you are staunch to me. (Aside.) If ever I gave my
heart again, methinks it would be to such a one as this! (Aloud.) I am
touched to the heart by your innocent regard for me, and were we
differently situated, I think I could have returned it. But as it is, I
fear I can never be more to you than a friend.
BUT, I understand! You hold aloof from me because you are rich and
lofty – and I poor and lowly. But take care! The poor bumboat woman has
gipsy blood in her veins, and she can read destinies.
CAPT. Destinies?
BUT. There is a change in store for you!
CAPT. A change?
BUT. Aye – be prepared!

DUET – LITTLE BUTTERCUP and CAPTAIN

BUT, Things are seldom what they seem,
Skim milk masquerades as cream;
Highlows pass as patent leathers;
Jackdaws strut in peacock's feathers.
CAPT. (puzzled). Very true,
So they do.
BUT. Black sheep dwell in every fold;
All that glitters is not gold;
Storks turn out to be but logs;
Bulls are but inflated frogs.
CAPT. (puzzled). So they be,
Frequentlee.
BUT. Drops the wind and stops the mill;
Turbot is ambitious brill;
Gild the farthing if you will,
Yet it is a farthing still.
CAPT. (puzzled). Yes, I know.
That is so.
Though to catch your drift I'm striving,
It is shady – it is shady;
I don't see at what you're driving,
Mystic lady – mystic lady.
(Aside.) Stern conviction's o'er me stealing,
That the mystic lady's dealing
In oracular revealing.
BUT. (aside).Stern conviction's o'er him stealing,
That the mystic lady's dealing
In oracular revealing.
Yes, I know –
That is so!
CAPT. Though I'm anything but clever,
I could talk like that for ever:
Once a cat was killed by care;
Only brave deserve the fair.
Very true,
So they do.
CAPT. Wink is often good as nod;
Spoils the child who spares the rod;
Thirsty lambs run foxy dangers;
Dogs are found in many mangers.
BUT. Frequentlee,
I agree.
Paw of cat the chestnut snatches;
Worn-out garments show new patches;
Only count the chick that hatches;
Men are grown-up catchy-catchies.
BUT. Yes, I know,
That is so.
(Aside.) Though to catch my drift he's striving,
I'll dissemble – I'll dissemble;
When he sees at what I'm driving,
Let him tremble – let him tremble!

ENSEMBLE

Though a mystic tone { I } borrow,
you
You will } learn the truth with sorrow,
I shall
Here to-day and gone to-morrow;
Yes, I know –
That is so!
[At the end exit LITTLE BUTTERCUP melodramatically.

CAPT. Incomprehensible as her utterances are, I nevertheless feel that
they are dictated by a sincere regard for me. But to what new misery is
she referring? Time alone can tell!

Enter SIR JOSEPH

SIR JOSEPH. Captain Corcoran, I am much disappointed with your
daughter. In fact, I don't think she will do.
CAPT. She won't do, Sir Joseph!
SIR JOSEPH. I'm afraid not. The fact is, that although I have urged my
suit with as much eloquence as is consistent with an official utterance,
I have done so hitherto without success. How do you account for this?
CAPT. Really, Sir Joseph, I hardly know. Josephine is of course
sensible of your condescension.
SIR JOSEPH. She naturally would be.
CAPT. But perhaps your exalted rank dazzles her.
SIR JOSEPH. You think it does?
CAPT. I can hardly say; but she is a modest girl, and her social
position is far below your own. It may be that she feels she is not
worthy of you.
SIR JOSEPH. That is really a very sensible suggestion, and displays
more knowledge of human nature than I had given you credit for.
CAPT. See, she comes. If your lordship would kindly reason with her and
assure her officially that it is a standing rule at the Admiralty that
love levels all ranks, her respect for an official utterance might induce
her to look upon your offer in its proper light.
SIR JOSEPH. It is not unlikely. I will adopt your suggestion. But soft,
she is here. Let us withdraw, and watch our opportunity.

Enter JOSEPHINE from cabin. FIRST LORD and CAPTAIN retire

SCENE – JOSEPHINE

The hours creep on apace,
My guilty heart is quaking!
Oh, that I might retrace
The step that I am taking!
Its folly it were easy to be showing,
What I am giving up and whither going.
On the one hand, papa's luxurious home,
Hung with ancestral armour and old brasses,
Carved oak and tapestry from distant Rome,
Rare „blue and white“ Venetian finger-glasses,
Rich oriental rugs, luxurious sofa pillows,
And everything that isn't old, from Gillow's.
And on the other, a dark and dingy room,
In some back street with stuffy children crying,
Where organs yell, and clacking housewives fume,
And clothes are hanging out all day a-drying.
With one cracked looking-glass to see your face in,
And dinner served up in a pudding basin!

A simple sailor, lowly born,
Unlettered and unknown,
Who toils for bread from early mom
Till half the night has flown!
No golden rank can he impart –
No wealth of house or land –
No fortune save his trusty heart
And honest brown right hand!
And yet he is so wondrous fair
That love for one so passing rare,
So peerless in his manly beauty,
Were little else than solemn duty!
Oh, god of love, and god of reason, say,
Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey!

SIR JOSEPH and CAPTAIN enter

SIR JOSEPH. Madam, it has been represented to me that you are appalled
by my exalted rank. I desire to convey to you officially my assurance,
that if your hesitation is attributable to that circumstance, it is
uncalled for.
JOS. Oh! then your lordship is of opinion that married happiness is not
inconsistent with discrepancy in rank?
SIR JOSEPH. I am officially of that opinion.
JOS. That the high and the lowly may be truly happy together, provided
that they truly love one another?
SIR JOSEPH. Madam, I desire to convey to you officially my opinion that
love is a platform upon which all ranks meet.
JOS. I thank you, Sir Joseph. I did hesitate, but I will hesitate no
longer. (Aside.) He little thinks how eloquently he has pleaded his
rival's cause!

TRIO

FIRST LORD, CAPTAIN, and JOSEPHINE

CAPT. Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore,
Though his lordship's station's mighty,
Though stupendous be his brain,
Though your tastes are mean and flighty
And your fortune poor and plain,
CAPT. and Ring the merry bells on board-ship,
SIR JOSEPH. Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of { his } lordship
my
With a humble captain's child!
CAPT. For a humble captain's daughter –
JOS. For a gallant captain's daughter –
SIR JOSEPH. And a lord who rules the water –
JOS. (aside). And a tar who ploughs the water!
ALL. Let the air with joy be laden,
Rend with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!
SIR JOSEPH. Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore,
Though your nautical relation (alluding to CAPT.)
In my set could scarcely pass –
Though you occupy a station
In the lower middle class –
CAPT. and Ring the merry bells on board-ship,
SIR JOSEPH Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of { my } lordship
your
With a humble captain's child!
CAPT. For a humble captain's daughter –
JOS. For a gallant captain's daughter –
SIR JOSEPH. And a lord who rules the water –
JOS. (aside). And a tar who ploughs the water!
ALL. Let the air with joy be laden,
Rend with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!

JOS. Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore
I admit the jurisdiction;
Ably have you played your part;
You have carried firm conviction
To my hesitating heart.
CAPT. and Ring the merry bells on board-ship,
SIR JOSEPH. Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of { my } lordship
his
With a humble captain's child!
CAPT. For a humble captain's daughter –
JOS. For a gallant captain's daughter –
SIR JOSEPH. And a lord who rules the water –
JOS. (aside). And a tar who ploughs the water!
(Aloud.) Let the air with joy be laden.
CAPT. and SIR JOSEPH. Ring the merry bells on board-ship –
JOS. For the union of a maiden –
CAPT. and SIR JOSEPH. For her union with his lordship.
ALL. Rend with songs the air above
For the man who owns her love!

[Exit JOS.
CAPT. Sir Joseph, I cannot express to you my delight at the happy
result of your eloquence. Your argument was unanswerable.
SIR JOSEPH. Captain Corcoran, it is one of the happiest characteristics
of this glorious country that official utterances are invariably regarded
as unanswerable. [Exit SIR JOSEPH.
CAPT. At last my fond hopes are to be crowned. My only daughter is to
be the bride of a Cabinet Minister. The prospect is Elysian. (During this
speech DICK DEADEYE has entered.)
DICK. Captain.
CAPT. Deadeye! You here? Don't! (Recoiling from him.)
DICK. Ah, don't shrink from me, Captain. I'm unpleasant to look at, and
my name's agin me, but I ain't as bad as I seem.
CAPT. What would you with me?
DICK (mysteriously). I'm come to give you warning.
CAPT. Indeed! do you propose to leave the Navy then?
DICK. No, no, you misunderstand me; listen!

DUET

CAPTAIN and DICK DEADEYE

DICK. Kind Captain, I've important information,
Sing hey, the kind commander that you are,
About a certain intimate relation,
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar.
BOTH. The merry maiden and the tar.

CAPT. Good fellow, in conundrums you are speaking,
Sing hey, the mystic sailor that you are;
The answer to them vainly I am seeking;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar.
BOTH The merry maiden and the tar.

DICK. Kind Captain, your young lady is a-sighing,
Sing hey, the simple captain that you are,
This very might with Rackstraw to be flying;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar.
BOTH. The merry maiden and the tar.

CAPT. Good fellow, you have given timely warning,
Sing hey, the thoughtful sailor that you are,
I'll talk to Master Rackstraw in the morning:
Sing hey, the cat-o'-nine-tails and the tar.
(Producing a „cat“ .)

BOTH. The merry cat-o'-nine-tails and the tar!

CAPT. Dick Deadeye – I thank you for your warning – I will at once take
means to arrest their flight. This boat cloak will afford me ample
disguise – So! (Envelops himself in a mysterious cloak, holding it before
his face.)
DICK. Ha, ha! They are foiled – foiled – foiled!

Enter Crew on tiptoe, with RALPH and BOATSWAIN meeting JOSEPHINE, who
enters from cabin on tiptoe, with bundle of necessaries, and
accompanied by LITTLE BUTTERCUP.

ENSEMBLE

Carefully on tiptoe stealing,
Breathing gently as we may,
Every step with caution feeling,
We will softly steal away.

(CAPTAIN stamps) – Chord.

ALL (much alarmed). Goodness me –
Why, what was that?
DICK. Silent be,
It was the cat!
ALL. (reassured). It was – it was the cat!
CAPT. (producing cat-o'-nine-tails). They're right, it was the cat!

ALL. Pull ashore, in fashion steady,
Hymen will defray the fare,
For a clergyman is ready
To unite the happy pair!

(Stamp as before, and Chord.)

ALL. Goodness me,
Why, what was that?
DICK. Silent be,
Again the cat!
ALL. It was again that cat!
CAPT. (aside). They're right, it was the cat!
CAPT. (throwing off cloak). Hold! (All start.)
Pretty daughter of mine,
I insist upon knowing
Where you may be going
With these sons of the brine,
For my excellent crew,
Though foes they could thump any,
Are scarcely fit company,
My daughter, for you.
CREW. Now, hark at that, do!
Though foes we could thump any,
We are scarcely fit company
For a lady like you!

RALPH. Proud officer, that haughty lip uncurl!
Vain man, suppress that supercilious sneer,
For I have dared to love your matchless girl,
A fact well known to all my messmates here!

CAPT. Oh, horror!

RALPH and Jos. { I } humble, poor, and lowly born,
He
The meanest in the port division –
The butt of epauletted scorn –
The mark of quarter-deck derision –
Have } dare to raise { my } wormy eyes
Has his
Above the dust to which you'd mould { me
him
In manhood's glorious pride to rise,
I am } an Englishman – behold { me
He is him

ALL. He is an Englishman!
BOAT. He is an Englishman!
For he himself has said it,
And it's greatly to his credit,
That he is an Englishman!

ALL. That he is an Englishman!
BOAT. For he might have been a Roosian,
A French, or Turk, or Proosian,
Or perhaps Itali-an!

ALL. Or perhaps Itali-an!
BOAT. But in spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,
He remains an Englishman!

ALL. For in spite of all temptations, etc.

CAPT. (trying to repress his anger).
In uttering a reprobation
To any British tar,
I try to speak with moderation,
But you have gone too far.
I'm very sorry to disparage
A humble foremast lad,
But to seek your captain's child in marriage,
Why damme, it's too bad

[During this, COUSIN HEBE and FEMALE RELATIVES have entered.

ALL (shocked). Oh!
CAPT. Yes, damme, it's too bad!
ALL. Oh!
CAPT. and DICK DEADEYE. Yes, damme, it s too bad.

[During this, SIR JOSEPH has appeared on poop-deck. He is horrified
at the bad language.

HEBE. Did you hear him? Did you hear him?
Oh, the monster overbearing!
Don't go near him – don't go near him –
He is swearing – he is swearing!
SIR JOSEPH. My pain and my distress,
I find it is not easy to express;
My amazement – my surprise –
You may learn from the expression of my eyes!
CAPT. My lord – one word – the facts are not before you
The word was injudicious, I allow –
But hear my explanation, I implore you,
And you will be indignant too, I vow!
SIR JOSEPH. I will hear of no defence,
Attempt none if you're sensible.
That word of evil sense
Is wholly indefensible.
Go, ribald, get you hence
To your cabin with celerity.
This is the consequence
Of ill-advised asperity

[Exit CAPTAIN, disgraced, followed by JOSEPHINE

ALL. This is the consequence,
Of ill-advised asperity!
SIR JOSEPH. For I'll teach you all, ere long,
To refrain from language strong
For I haven't any sympathy for ill-bred taunts!
HEBE. No more have his sisters, nor his cousins, nor his
aunts.
ALL. For he is an Englishman, etc.

SIR JOSEPH. Now, tell me, my fine fellow – for you are a fine fellow –
RALPH. Yes, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. How came your captain so far to forget himself? I am quite
sure you had given him no cause for annoyance.
RALPH, Please your honour, it was thus-wise. You see I'm only a topman – a mere foremast hand –
SIR JOSEPH. Don't be ashamed of that. Your position as a topman is a
very exalted one.
RALPH. Well, your honour, love burns as brightly in the fo'c'sle as it
does on the quarter-deck, and Josephine is the fairest bud that ever
blossomed upon the tree of a poor fellow's wildest hopes.

Enter JOSEPHINE; she rushes to RALPH'S arms

JOS. Darling! (SIR JOSEPH horrified.)
RALPH. She is the figurehead of my ship of life – the bright beacon that
guides me into my port of happiness – that the rarest, the purest gem that
ever sparkled on a poor but worthy fellow's trusting brow!
ALL. Very pretty, very pretty!
SIR JOSEPH. Insolent sailor, you shall repent this outrage. Seize him!
(Two Marines seize him and handcuff him.)
JOS. Oh, Sir Joseph, spare him, for I love him tenderly.
SIR JOSEPH. Pray, don't. I will teach this presumptuous mariner to
discipline his affections. Have you such a thing as a dungeon on board?
ALL. We have!
DICK. They have!
SIR JOSEPH. Then load him with chains and take him there at once!

OCTETTE

RALPH. Farewell, my own,
Light of my life, farewell!
For crime unknown
I go to a dungeon cell.

JOS. I will atone.
In the meantime farewell!
And all alone
Rejoice in your dungeon cell!

SIR JOSEPH. A bone, a bone
I'll pick with this sailor fell;
Let him be shown at once
At once to his dungeon cell.

BOATSWAIN, DICK DEADEYE, and COUSIN HEBE

He'll hear no tone
Of the maiden he loves so well!
No telephone
Communicates with his cell!

BUT. (mysteriously). But when is known
The secret I have to tell,
Wide will be thrown
The door of his dungeon cell.

ALL. For crime unknown
He goes to a dungeon cell!
[RALPH is led off in custody.

SIR JOSEPH. My pain and my distress
Again it is not easy to express.
My amazement, my surprise,
Again you may discover from my eyes.

ALL. How terrible the aspect of his eyes!

BUT. Hold! Ere upon your loss
You lay much stress,
A long-concealed crime
I would confess.

SONG – BUTTERCUP

A many years ago,
When I was young and charming,
As some of you may know,
I practised baby-farming.

ALL. Now this is most alarming!
When she was young and charming,
She practised baby-farming,
A many years ago.

BUT. Two tender babes I nursed:
One was of low condition,
The other, upper crust,
A regular patrician.

ALL (explaining to each other).
Now, this is the position:
One was of low condition,
The other a patrician,
A many years ago.

BUT. Oh, bitter is my cup!
However could I do it?
I mixed those children up,
And not a creature knew it!

ALL. However could you do it?
Some day, no doubt, you'll rue it,
Although no creature knew it,
So many years ago.

BUT. In time each little waif
Forsook his foster-mother,
The well born babe was Ralph –
Your captain was the other!!!

ALL. They left their foster-mother,
The one was Ralph, our brother,
Our captain was the other,
A many years ago.

SIR JOSEPH. Then I am to understand that Captain Corcoran and Ralph
were exchanged in childhood's happy hour – that Ralph is really the
Captain, and the Captain is Ralph?
BUT. That is the idea I intended to convey, officially!
SIR JOSEPH. And very well you have conveyed it.
BUT. Aye! aye! yer 'onour.
SIR JOSEPH. Dear me! Let them appear before me, at once!

[RALPH. enters as CAPTAIN; CAPTAIN as a common sailor. JOSEPHINE rushes
to his arms

JOS. My father – a common sailor!
CAPT. It is hard, is it not, my dear?
SIR JOSEPH. This is a very singular occurrence; I congratulate you
both. (To RALPH.) Desire that remarkably fine seaman to step forward.
RALPH. Corcoran. Three paces to the front – march!
CAPT. If what?
RALPH. If what? I don't think I understand you.
CAPT. If you please.
SIR JOSEPH. The gentleman is quite right. If you please.
RALPH. Oh! If you please. (CAPTAIN steps forward.)
SIR JOSEPH (to CAPTAIN).You are an extremely fine fellow.
CAPT. Yes, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. So it seems that you were Ralph, and Ralph was you.
CAPT. SO it seems, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. Well, I need not tell you that after this change in your
condition, a marriage with your daughter will be out of the question.
CAPT. Don't say that, your honour – love levels all ranks.
SIR JOSEPH. It does to a considerable extent, but it does not level
them as much as that. (Handing JOSEPHINE to RALPH.) Here – take her,
sir, and mind you treat her kindly.
RALPH and JOS. Oh bliss, oh rapture!
CAPT. and BUT. Oh rapture, oh bliss!

SIR JOSEPH. Sad my lot and sorry,
What shall I do? I cannot live alone!
HEBE. Fear nothing – while I live I'll not desert you.
I'll soothe and comfort your declining days.
SIR JOSEPH. No, don't do that.
HEBE. Yes, but indeed I'd rather –
SIR JOSEPH (resigned). To-morrow morn our vows shall all be plighted,
Three loving pairs on the same day united!

QUARTETTE

JOSEPHINE, HEBE, RALPH, and DEADEYE

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen,
The clouded sky is now serene,
The god of day – the orb of love,
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all ablaze.

With wooing words and loving song,
We'll chase the lagging hours along,
And if { he finds } the maiden coy,
I find
We'll murmur forth decorous joy,
In dreamy roundelay.

CAPT. For he's the Captain of the Pinafore.
ALL. And a right good captain too!
CAPT. And though before my fall
I was captain of you all,
I'm a member of the crew.
ALL. Although before his fall, etc.
CAPT. I shall marry with a wife,
In my humble rank of life! (turning to BUT.)
And you, my own, are she –
I must wander to and fro;
But wherever I may go,
I shall never be untrue to thee!
ALL. What, never?
CAPT. No, never!
ALL. What, never!
CAPT. Hardly ever!
ALL. Hardly ever be untrue to thee.
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more
For the former Captain of the Pinafore.

BUT. For he loves Little Buttercup, dear Little
Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why;
But still he loves Buttercup, poor Little
Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup, aye!
ALL. For he loves, etc.

SIR JOSEPH. I'm the monarch of the sea,
And when I've married thee (to HEBE),
I'll be true to the devotion that my love
implants,
HEBE. Then good-bye to his sisters, and his cousins,
and his aunts,
Especially his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
His sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

ALL. For he is an Englishman,
And he himself hath said it,
And it's greatly to his credit
That he is an Englishman!

CURTAIN

Zur Übersicht zurück

The Pirates of Penzance

or the Slave of Duty

Text by W. S. Gilbert

Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

Dramatis Personae:

MAJOR-GENERAL STANLEY
THE PIRATE KING
SAMUEL (his Lieutenant)

FREDERIC
SERGEANT OF POLICE
MABEL, EDITH, KATE, and ISABEL (General Stanley‘s Daughters)
RUTH (a Pirate Maid of all Work)
Chorus of Pirates, Police, and General Stanley‘s Daughters

ACT I
A rocky sea-shore on the coast of Cornwall

ACT II
A ruined chapel by moonlight

First produced at the Opera Comique on April 3, 1880

ACT I

(Scene.-A rocky seashore on the coast of Cornwall. In thedistance is a calm sea, on which a schooner is lying at anchor. Rock L. sloping down to L.C. of stage. Under these rocks is acavern, the entrance to which is seen at first entrance L. Anatural arch of rock occupies the R.C. of the stage. As thecurtain rises groups of pirates are discovered – some drinking,some playing cards. SAMUEL, the Pirate Lieutenant, is going fromone group to another, filling the cups from a flask. FREDERIC isseated in a despondent attitude at the back of the scene. RUTHkneels at his feet.)

OPENING CHORUS

ALL: Pour, O pour the pirate sherry;
Fill, O fill the pirate glass;
And, to make us more than merry
Let the pirate bumper pass.

SAMUEL: For today our pirate ‚prentice
Rises from indentures freed;
Strong his arm, and keen his scent is
He‘s a pirate now indeed!

ALL: Here‘s good luck to Fred‘ric‘s ventures!
Fred‘ric‘s out of his indentures.

SAMUEL: Two and twenty, now he‘s rising,
And alone he‘s fit to fly,
Which we‘re bent on signalizing
With unusual revelry.

ALL: Here‘s good luck to Fred‘ric‘s ventures!
Fred‘ric‘s out of his indentures.
Pour, O pour the pirate sherry;
Fill, O fill the pirate glass;
And, to make us more than merry
Let the pirate bumper pass.

(FREDERIC rises and comes forward with PIRATE KING, who enters)

KING: Yes, Frederic, from to-day you rank as a full-blown
member of our band.
ALL: Hurrah!
FREDERIC: My friends, I thank you all, from my heart, for your
kindly wishes. Would that I could repay them as they
deserve!
KING: What do you mean?
FREDERIC: To-day I am out of my indentures, and to-day I leave
you for ever.
KING: But this is quite unaccountable; a keener hand at
scuttling a Cunarder or cutting out a White Star never
shipped a handspike.
FREDERIC: Yes, I have done my best for you. And why? It was my
duty under my indentures, and I am the slave of duty.
As a child I was regularly apprenticed to your band.
It was through an error – no matter, the mistake was
ours, not yours, and I was in honour bound by it.
SAMUEL: An error? What error? (RUTH rises and comes forward)
FREDERIC: I may not tell you; it would reflect upon my well-lovedRuth.
RUTH: Nay, dear master, my mind has long been gnawed by the
cankering tooth of mystery. Better have it out atonce.

SONG – RUTH

RUTH: When Frederic was a little lad he proved so brave and
daring,
His father thought he‘d ‚prentice him to some career
seafaring.
I was, alas! his nurs‘rymaid, and so it fell to my lot

To take and bind the promising boy apprentice to a pilot –

A life not bad for a hardy lad, though surely not a high lot,
Though I‘m a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a pilot.
I was a stupid nurs‘rymaid, on breakers always steering,
And I did not catch the word aright, through being hard of hearing;
Mistaking my instructions, which within my brain did gyrate,
I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to a pirate.
A sad mistake it was to make and doom him to a vile lot.
I bound him to a pirate – you! – instead of to a pilot.
I soon found out, beyond all doubt, the scope of this disaster,
But I hadn‘t the face to return to my place, and break it to my master.
A nurs‘rymaid is not afraid of what you people call work,
So I made up my mind to go as a kind of piratical maid- of-all-work.
And that is how you find me now, a member of your shy lot,
Which you wouldn‘t have found, had he been bound apprentice to a pilot.
RUTH: Oh, pardon! Frederic, pardon! (Kneels)
FREDERIC: Rise, sweet one, I have long pardoned you. (Ruth rises)
RUTH: The two words were so much alike!
FREDERIC: They were. They still are, though years have rolled
over their heads. But this afternoon my obligation
ceases. Individually, I love you all with affection
unspeakable; but, collectively, I look upon you with a
disgust that amounts to absolute detestation. Oh! pity
me, my beloved friends, for such is my sense of duty
that, once out of my indentures, I shall feel myself
bound to devote myself heart and soul to your
extermination!
ALL: Poor lad – poor lad! (All weep)
KING: Well, Frederic, if you conscientiously feel that it is
your duty to destroy us, we cannot blame you for acting
on that conviction. Always act in accordance with the
dictates of your conscience, my boy, and chance the
consequences.
SAMUEL: Besides, we can offer you but little temptation to
remain with us. We don‘t seem to make piracy pay. I‘m
sure I don‘t know why, but we don‘t.
FREDERIC: I know why, but, alas! I mustn‘t tell you; it wouldn‘t
be right.
KING: Why not, my boy? It‘s only half-past eleven, and you
are one of us until the clock strikes twelve.
SAMUEL: True, and until then you are bound to protect our interests.
ALL: Hear, hear!
FREDERIC: Well, then, it is my duty, as a pirate, to tell you
that you are too tender-hearted. For instance, you
make a point of never attacking a weaker party than
yourselves, and when you attack a stronger party you
invariably get thrashed.
KING: There is some truth in that.
FREDERIC: Then, again, you make a point of never molesting an
orphan!
SAMUEL: Of course: we are orphans ourselves, and know what it is.
FREDERIC: Yes, but it has got about, and what is the consequence?
Every one we capture says he‘s an orphan. The last
three ships we took proved to be manned entirely by
orphans, and so we had to let them go. One would think
that Great Britain‘s mercantile navy was recruited
solely from her orphan asylums – which we know is not the case.
SAMUEL: But, hang it all! you wouldn‘t have us absolutely merciless?
FREDERIC: There‘s my difficulty; until twelve o‘clock I would,
after twelve I wouldn‘t. Was ever a man placed in so delicate a situation?
RUTH: And Ruth, your own Ruth, whom you love so well, and who has won her middle-aged way into your boyish heart, what is to become of her?
KING: Oh, he will take you with him.
FREDERIC: Well, Ruth, I feel some difficulty about you. It is true that I admire you very much, but I have been constantly at sea since I was eight years old, and yours is the only woman‘s face I have seen during that time. I think it is a sweet face.
RUTH: It is – oh, it is!
FREDERIC: I say I think it is; that is my impression. But as I
have never had an opportunity of comparing you with
other women, it is just possible I may be mistaken.
KING: True.
FREDERIC: What a terrible thing it would be if I were to marry
this innocent person, and then find out that she is, on
the whole, plain!
KING: Oh, Ruth is very well, very well indeed.
SAMUEL: Yes, there are the remains of a fine woman about Ruth.
FREDERIC: Do you really think so?
SAMUEL: I do.
FREDERIC: Then I will not be so selfish as to take her from you.
In justice to her, and in consideration for you, I will
leave her behind. (Hands RUTH to KING)
KING: No, Frederic, this must not be. We are rough men, who
lead a rough life, but we are not so utterly heartless
as to deprive thee of thy love. I think I am right in
saying that there is not one here who would rob thee of
this inestimable treasure for all the world holds dear.
ALL: (loudly) Not one!
KING: No, I thought there wasn‘t. Keep thy love, Frederic,
keep thy love. (Hands her back to FREDERIC)
FREDERIC: You‘re very good, I‘m sure. (Exit RUTH)
KING: Well, it‘s the top of the tide, and we must be off.
Farewell, Frederic. When your process of extermination
begins, let our deaths be as swift and painless as you
can conveniently make them.
FREDERIC: I will! By the love I have for you, I swear it! Would
that you could render this extermination unnecessary by
accompanying me back to civilization!
KING: No, Frederic, it cannot be. I don‘t think much of our
profession, but, contrasted with respectability, it is
comparatively honest. No, Frederic, I shall live and
die a Pirate King.

SONG – PIRATE KING

KING: Oh, better far to live and die
Under the brave black flag I fly,
Than play a sanctimonious part
With a pirate head and a pirate heart.
Away to the cheating world go you,
Where pirates all are well-to-do;
But I‘ll be true to the song I sing,
And live and die a Pirate King.
For I am a Pirate King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Pirate King!
For I am a Pirate King!
ALL: You are!
Hurrah for the Pirate King!
KING: And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Pirate King.
ALL: It is!
Hurrah for the Pirate King!
Hurrah for the Pirate King!
KING: When I sally forth to seek my prey
I help myself in a royal way.
I sink a few more ships, it‘s true,
Than a well-bred monarch ought to do;
But many a king on a first-class throne,
If he wants to call his crown his own,
Must manage somehow to get through
More dirty work than e‘er I do,
For I am a Pirate King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Pirate King!
For I am a Pirate King!
ALL: You are!
Hurrah for the Pirate King!
KING: And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Pirate King.
ALL: It is!
Hurrah for the Pirate King!
Hurrah for the Pirate King!

(Exeunt all except FREDERIC. Enter RUTH.)

RUTH: Oh, take me with you! I cannot live if I am left
behind.
FREDERIC: Ruth, I will be quite candid with you. You are very
dear to me, as you know, but I must be circumspect.
You see, you are considerably older than I. A lad of
twenty-one usually looks for a wife of seventeen.
RUTH: A wife of seventeen! You will find me a wife of a
thousand!
FREDERIC: No, but I shall find you a wife of forty-seven, and
that is quite enough. Ruth, tell me candidly and
without reserve: compared with other women, how are
you?
RUTH: I will answer you truthfully, master: I have a slight
cold, but otherwise I am quite well.
FREDERIC: I am sorry for your cold, but I was referring rather to
your personal appearance. Compared with other women,
are you beautiful?
RUTH: (bashfully) I have been told so, dear master.
FREDERIC: Ah, but lately?
RUTH: Oh, no; years and years ago.
FREDERIC: What do you think of yourself?
RUTH: It is a delicate question to answer, but I think I am a
fine woman.
FREDERIC: That is your candid opinion?
RUTH: Yes, I should be deceiving you if I told you otherwise.
FREDERIC: Thank you, Ruth. I believe you, for I am sure you
would not practice on my inexperience. I wish to do
the right thing, and if- I say if- you are really a
fine woman, your age shall be no obstacle to our union!
(Shakes hands with her. Chorus of girls heard in the
distance, „climbing over rocky mountain,“ etc.) Hark!
Surely I hear voices! Who has ventured to approach our
all but inaccessible lair? Can it be Custom House? No,
it does not sound like Custom House.
RUTH: (aside) Confusion! it is the voices of young girls!
If he should see them I am lost.
FREDERIC: (looking off) By all that‘s marvellous, a bevy of
beautiful maidens!
RUTH: (aside) Lost! lost! lost!
FREDERIC: How lovely, how surpassingly lovely is the plainest of
them! What grace- what delicacy- what refinement! And
Ruth-- Ruth told me she was beautiful!

RECITATIVE

FREDERIC: Oh, false one, you have deceived me!
RUTH: I have deceived you?
FREDERIC: Yes, deceived me!
(Denouncing her.)
FREDERIC: You told me you were fair as gold!
RUTH: (wildly) And, master, am I not so?
FREDERIC: And now I see you‘re plain and old.
RUTH: I‘m sure I‘m not a jot so.
FREDERIC: Upon my innocence you play.
RUTH: I‘m not the one to plot so.
FREDERIC: Your face is lined, your hair is grey.
RUTH: It‘s gradually got so.
FREDERIC: Faithless woman, to deceive me,
I who trusted so!
RUTH: Master, master, do not leave me!
Hear me, ere you go!
My love without reflecting,
Oh, do not be rejecting!
Take a maiden tender, her affection raw and green,
At very highest rating,
Has been accumulating
Summers seventeen, summers seventeen.
Don‘t, beloved master,
Crush me with disaster.
What is such a dower to the dower I have here?
My love unabating
Has been accumulating
Forty-seven year--forty-seven year!

ENSEMBLE

RUTH FREDERIC

Don‘t, beloved master, Yes, your former master
Crush me with disaster. Saves you from disaster.
What is such a dower to the Your love would be uncomfortably
dower I have here fervid, it is clear
My love unabating If, as you are stating
Has been accumulating It‘s been accumulating
Forty-seven year, forty-seven Forty-seven year--forty-seven year!
year! Faithless woman to deceive me, I
who trusted so!
Master, master, do not leave Faithless woman to deceive me, I
me, hear me, ere I go! who trusted so!

RECIT– FREDERIC

What shall I do? Before these gentle maidens
I dare not show in this alarming costume!
No, no, I must remain in close concealment
Until I can appear in decent clothing!

(Hides in cave as they enter climbing over the rocks and through arched rock)

GIRLS: Climbing over rocky mountain,
Skipping rivulet and fountain,
Passing where the willows quiver,
Passing where the willows quiver
By the ever-rolling river,
Swollen with the summer rain, the summer rain
Threading long and leafy mazes
Dotted with unnumbered daisies,
Dotted, dotted with unnumbered daisies,
Scaling rough and rugged passes,
Climb the hardy little lasses,
Till the bright sea-shore they gain;
Scaling rough and rugged passes,
Climb the hardy little lasses,
Till the bright sea-shore they gain!

EDITH: Let us gaily tread the measure,
Make the most of fleeting leisure,
Hail it as a true ally,
Though it perish by-and-by.

GIRLS: Hail it as a true ally,
Though it perish by-and-by.

EDITH: Every moment brings a treasure
Of its own especial pleasure;
Though the moments quickly die,
Greet them gaily as they fly,
Greet them gaily as they fly.

GIRLS: Though the moments quickly die,
Greet them gaily as they fly.

KATE: Far away from toil and care,
Revelling in fresh sea-air,
Here we live and reign alone
In a world that‘s all our own.
Here, in this our rocky den,
Far away from mortal men,
We‘ll be queens, and make decrees –
They may honour them who please.

GIRLS: We‘ll be queens, and make decrees –
They may honour them who please.
Let us gaily tread the measure, etc.

KATE: What a picturesque spot! I wonder where we are!
EDITH: And I wonder where Papa is. We have left him ever so far behind.
ISABEL: Oh, he will be here presently! Remember poor Papa is not as young as we are, and we came over a rather difficult country.
KATE: But how thoroughly delightful it is to be so entirely
alone! Why, in all probability we are the first human
beings who ever set foot on this enchanting spot.
ISABEL: Except the mermaids--it‘s the very place for mermaids.
KATE: Who are only human beings down to the waist--
EDITH: And who can‘t be said strictly to set foot anywhere.
Tails they may, but feet they cannot.
KATE: But what shall we do until Papa and the servants arrive
with the luncheon?
EDITH: We are quite alone, and the sea is as smooth as glass.
Suppose we take off our shoes and stockings and paddle?
ALL: Yes, yes! The very thing! (They prepare to carry, out
the suggestion. They have all taken off one shoe, when
FREDERIC comes forward from cave.)

FREDERIC: (recitative). Stop, ladies, pray!
GIRLS: (Hopping on one foot) A man!
FREDERIC: I had intended
Not to intrude myself upon your notice
In this effective but alarming costume;
But under these peculiar circumstances,
It is my bounden duty to inform you
That your proceedings will not be unwitnessed!
EDITH: But who are you, sir? Speak! (All hopping)
FREDERIC: I am a pirate!
GIRLS: (recoiling, hopping) A pirate! Horror!
FREDERIC: Ladies, do not shun me!
This evening I renounce my vile profession;
And, to that end, O pure and peerless maidens!
Oh, blushing buds of ever-blooming beauty!
I, sore at heart, implore your kind assistance.
EDITH: How pitiful his tale!
KATE: How rare his beauty
GIRLS: How pitiful his tale! How rare his beauty!

SONG--FREDERIC

Oh, is there not one maiden breast
Which does not feel the moral beauty
Of making worldly interest
Subordinate to sense of duty?

Who would not give up willingly
All matrimonial ambition,
To rescue such a one as I
From his unfortunate position?
From his position,
To rescue such an one as I
From his unfortunate position?

GIRLS: Alas! there‘s not one maiden breast
Which seems to feel the moral beauty
Of making worldly interest
Subordinate to sense of duty!

FREDERIC: Oh, is there not one maiden here
Whose homely face and bad complexion
Have caused all hope to disappear
Of ever winning man‘s affection?
Of such a one, if such there be,
I swear by Heaven‘s arch above you,
If you will cast your eyes on me,
However plain you be, I‘ll love you,
However plain you be,
If you will cast your eyes on me,
However plain you be I‘ll love you,
I‘ll love you, I‘ll love, I‘ll love you!

GIRLS: Alas! there‘s not one maiden here
Whose homely face and bad complexion
Have caused all hope to disappear
Of ever winning man‘s affection!

FREDERIC: (in despair) Not one?
GIRLS: No, no-- not one!
FREDERIC: Not one?
GIRLS: No, no!
MABEL: (enters through arch) Yes, one!
Yes, one!
GIRLS: ‚Tis Mabel!
MABEL: Yes, ‚tis Mabel!

RECIT – MABEL

Oh, sisters, deaf to pity‘s name,
For shame!
It‘s true that he has gone astray,
But pray
Is that a reason good and true
Why you
Should all be deaf to pity‘s name?

GIRLS: (aside): The question is, had he not been
A thing of beauty,
Would she be swayed by quite as keen
A sense of duty?

MABEL: For shame, for shame, for shame!

SONG – MABEL

MABEL: Poor wand‘ring one!
Though thou hast surely strayed,
Take heart of grace,
Thy steps retrace,
Poor wand‘ring one!
Poor wand‘ring one!
If such poor love as mine
Can help thee find
True peace of mind-
Why, take it, it is thine!

GIRLS: Take heart, no danger low‘rs;
Take any heart but ours!

MABEL: Take heart, fair days will shine;
Take any heart--take mine!

GIRLS: Take heart; no danger low‘rs;
Take any heart-but ours!

MABEL: Take heart, fair days will shine;
Take any heart--take mine!
Poor wand‘ring one!, etc.

(MABEL and FREDERIC go to mouth of cave and converse. EDITH
beckons her sisters, who form a semicircle around her.)

EDITH

What ought we to do,
Gentle sisters, say?
Propriety, we know,
Says we ought to stay;
While sympathy exclaims,
„Free them from your tether--
Play at other games--
Leave them here together.“

KATE

Her case may, any day,
Be yours, my dear, or mine.
Let her make her hay
While the sun doth shine.
Let us compromise
(Our hearts are not of leather):
Let us shut our eyes
And talk about the weather.

GIRLS: Yes, yes, let‘s talk about the weather.

Chattering chorus

How beautifully blue the sky,
The glass is rising very high,
Continue fine I hope it may,
And yet it rained but yesterday.
To-morrow it may pour again
(I hear the country wants some rain),
Yet people say, I know not why,
That we shall have a warm July.
To-morrow it may pour again
(I hear the country wants some rain),
Yet people say, I know not why,
That we shall have a warm July.

Enter MABEL and FREDERIC

During MABEL‘s solo the GIRLS continue chatter pianissimo, but
listening eagerly all the time.

SOLO – MABEL

Did ever maiden wake
From dream of homely duty,
To find her daylight break
With such exceeding beauty?
Did ever maiden close
Her eyes on waking sadness,
To dream of such exceeding gladness?

FREDERIC: Ah, yes! ah, yes! this is exceeding gladness
GIRLS: How beautifully blue the sky, etc.

SOLO – FREDERIC

During this, GIRLS continue their chatter pianissimo as before,
but listening intently all the time.

Did ever pirate roll
His soul in guilty dreaming,
And wake to find that soul
With peace and virtue beaming?

ENSEMBLE

FREDERIC MABEL GIRLS

Did ever pirate Did ever maiden wake How beautifully blue
loathed From dream of homely the sky, etc.
Forsake his hideous duty,
mission To find her daylight
To find himself break
betrothed With such exceeding
To lady of position? beauty?

RECIT--FREDERIC

Stay, we must not lose our senses;
Men who stick at no offences
Will anon be here!
Piracy their dreadful trade is;
Pray you, get you hence, young ladies,
While the coast is clear
(FREDERIC and MABEL retire)

GIRLS: No, we must not lose our senses,
If they stick at no offences
We should not be here!
Piracy their dreadful trade is--
Nice companions for young ladies!
Let us disap--.

(During this chorus the PIRATES have entered stealthily, and
formed in a semicircle behind the GIRLS. As the GIRLS move
to go off, each PIRATE seizes a GIRL. KING seizes EDITH and
ISABEL, SAMUEL seizes KATE.)

GIRLS: Too late!
PIRATES: Ha, ha!
GIRLS: Too late!
PIRATES: Ho, ho!
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho, ho!

ENSEMBLE

(Pirates pass in front of (Girls pass in front of
Girls.) Pirates.)

PIRATES GIRLS

Here‘s a first-rate opportunity We have missed our opportunity
To get married with impunity, Of escaping with impunity;
And indulge in the felicity So farewell to the felicity
Of unbounded domesticity. Of our maiden domesticity!
You shall quickly be We shall quickly be
parsonified, parsonified,
Conjugally matrimonified, Conjugally matrimonified,
By a doctor of divinity By a doctor of divinity,
Who is located in this Who is located in this
vicinity. vicinity.
By a doctor of divinity, By a doctor of divinity,
Who resides in this vicinity, Who resides in this vicinity,
By a doctor, a doctor, a doctor By a doctor, a doctor, a doctor
of divinity, of divinity. of divinity, of divinity.

RECIT

MABEL: (coming forward) Hold, monsters! Ere your pirate
caravanserai
Proceed, against our will, to wed us all,
Just bear in mind that we are Wards in Chancery,
And father is a Major-General!

SAMUEL: (cowed) We‘d better pause, or danger may befall,
Their father is a Major-General.

GIRLS: Yes, yes; he is a Major-General!

(The MAJOR-GENERAL has entered unnoticed, on the rock)

GENERAL: Yes, yes, I am a Major-General!
SAMUEL: For he is a Major-General!
ALL: He is! Hurrah for the Major-General!
GENERAL: And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Major-General!
ALL: It is! Hurrah for the Major-General!
Hurrah for the Major-General!

SONG--MAJOR-GENERAL

I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I‘ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights
historical
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;
I‘m very well acquainted, too, with matters
mathematical,
I understand equations, both the simple and
quadratical,
About binomial theorem I‘m teeming with a lot o‘ news,
With many cheerful facts about the square of the
hypotenuse.

ALL: With many cheerful facts, etc.

GENERAL: I‘m very good at integral and differential calculus;
I know the scientific names of beings animalculous:
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern Major-General.

ALL: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
He is the very model of a modern Major-General.

GENERAL: I know our mythic history, King Arthur‘s and Sir
Caradoc‘s;
I answer hard acrostics, I‘ve a pretty taste for
paradox,
I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of Heliogabalus,
In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous;
I can tell undoubted Raphaels from Gerard Dows and
Zoffanies,
I know the croaking chorus from the Frogs of
Aristophanes!
Then I can hum a fugue of which I‘ve heard the music‘s
din afore,
And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense
Pinafore.

ALL: And whistle all the airs, etc.

GENERAL: Then I can write a washing bill in
Babylonic cuneiform,
And tell you ev‘ry detail of Caractacus‘s uniform:
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern Major-General.

ALL: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
He is the very model of a modern Major-General.

GENERAL: In fact, when I know what is meant by „mamelon“ and
„ravelin“,
When I can tell at sight a Mauser rifle from a javelin,
When such affairs as sorties and surprises I‘m more
wary at,
And when I know precisely what is meant by
„commissariat“,
When I have learnt what progress has been made in
modern gunnery,
When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery-
-
In short, when I‘ve a smattering of elemental strategy,
You‘ll say a better Major-General has never sat a gee.

ALL: You‘ll say a better Major-General, etc.

GENERAL: For my military knowledge, though I‘m plucky and
adventury,
Has only been brought down to the beginning of the
century;
But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern Major-General.

ALL: But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
He is the very model of a modern Major-General.

GENERAL: And now that I‘ve introduced myself, I should like to
have some idea of what‘s going on.
KATE: Oh, Papa-- we---
SAMUEL: Permit me, I‘ll explain in two words: we propose to
marry your daughters.
GENERAL: Dear me!
GIRLS: Against our wills, Papa--against our wills!
GENERAL: Oh, but you mustn‘t do that! May I ask-- this is a
picturesque uniform, but I‘m not familiar with it.
What are you?
KING: We are all single gentlemen.
GENERAL: Yes, I gathered that. Anything else?
KING: No, nothing else.
EDITH: Papa, don‘t believe them; they are pirates-- the
famous Pirates of Penzance!
GENERAL: The Pirates of Penzance! I have often heard of them.
MABEL: All except this gentleman (indicating FREDERIC), who
was a pirate once, but who is out of his indentures to-
day, and who means to lead a blameless life evermore.
GENERAL: But wait a bit. I object to pirates as sons-in-law.
KING: We object to major-generals as fathers-in-law. But we
waive that point. We do not press it. We look over it.
GENERAL: (aside) Hah! an idea! (aloud) And do you mean to say
that you would deliberately rob me of these, the sole
remaining props of my old age, and leave me to go
through the remainder of my life unfriended,
unprotected, and alone?
KING: Well, yes, that‘s the idea.
GENERAL: Tell me, have you ever known what it is to be an
orphan?
PIRATES: (disgusted) Oh, dash it all!
KING: Here we are again!
GENERAL: I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an
orphan?
KING: Often!
GENERAL: Yes, orphan. Have you ever known what it is to be one?
KING: I say, often.
ALL: (disgusted) Often, often, often. (Turning away)
GENERAL: I don‘t think we quite understand one another. I ask
you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan,
and you say „orphan“. As I understand you, you are
merely repeating the word „orphan“ to show that you
understand me.
KING: I didn‘t repeat the word often.
GENERAL: Pardon me, you did indeed.
KING: I only repeated it once.
GENERAL: True, but you repeated it.
KING: But not often.
GENERAL: Stop! I think I see where we are getting confused.
When you said „orphan“, did you mean „orphan“,a person
who has lost his parents, or „often“, frequently?
KING: Ah! I beg pardon-- I see what you mean – frequently.
GENERAL: Ah! you said „often“, frequently.
KING: No, only once.
GENERAL: (irritated) Exactly-- you said „often“, frequently,
only once.

FINALE OF ACT I

GENERAL: Oh, men of dark and dismal fate,
Forgo your cruel employ,
Have pity on my lonely state,
I am an orphan boy!
KING/SAMUEL: An orphan boy?
GENERAL: An orphan boy!
PIRATES: How sad, an orphan boy.

GENERAL: These children whom you see
Are all that I can call my own!
PIRATES: Poor fellow!
GENERAL: Take them away from me,
And I shall be indeed alone.
PIRATES: Poor fellow!
GENERAL: If pity you can feel,
Leave me my sole remaining joy--
See, at your feet they kneel;
Your hearts you cannot steel
Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy!
PIRATES: (sobbing) Poor fellow!
See at our feet they kneel;
Our hearts we cannot steel
Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy!
SAMUEL: The orphan boy!
add KING: The orphan boy!
See at our feet they kneel;
Our hearts we cannot steel
Against the tale of the lonely orphan boy!
PIRATES: Poor fellow!

ENSEMBLE

GENERAL (aside) GIRLS (aside) PIRATES (aside)

I‘m telling a terrible He is telling a terrible If he‘s telling a
story story, terrible story
But it doesn‘t diminish Which will tend to He shall die by a death
my glory; diminish his that is gory
For they would have glory; Yes, one of the
taken my daughters Though they would have cruellest
Over the billowy waters, taken his slaughters
daughters That ever were known in
Over the billowy waters, these waters;
If I hadn‘t, in elegant It is easy, in elegant It is easy, in elegant
diction, diction. diction,
Indulged in an innocent To call it an innocent To call it an innocent
fiction, fiction, fiction
Which is not in the same But it comes in the same But it comes in the same
category category category
As a regular terrible As telling a regular As telling a regular
story. terrible story. terrible story.

KING: Although our dark career
Sometimes involves the crime of stealing,
We rather think that we‘re
Not altogether void of feeling.
Although we live by strife,
We‘re always sorry to begin it,
For what, we ask, is life
Without a touch of Poetry in it?
(all kneel)

ALL: Hail, Poetry, thou heav‘n-born maid!
Thou gildest e‘en the pirate‘s trade.
Hail, flowing fount of sentiment!
All hail, all hail, divine emollient!
(all rise)

KING: You may go, for you‘re at liberty, our pirate rules
protect you,
And honorary members of our band we do elect you!
SAMUEL: For he is an orphan boy!
CHORUS: He is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!
GENERAL: And it sometimes is a useful thing
To be an orphan boy.
CHORUS: It is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!
Hurrah for the orphan boy!
ENSEMBLE: Oh, happy day, with joyous glee
They will away and married be!
Should it befall auspiciously,
Her (Our) sisters all will bridesmaids be!

(RUTH enters and comes down to FREDERIC)

RUTH: Oh, master, hear one word, I do implore you!
Remember Ruth, your Ruth, who kneels before you!
PIRATES: Yes, yes, remember Ruth, who kneels before you!
FREDERIC: Away, you did deceive me!
PIRATES: (Threatening RUTH) Away, you did deceive him!
RUTH: Oh, do not leave me!
PIRATES: Oh, do not leave her!
FREDERIC: Away, you grieve me!
PIRATES: Away, you grieve him!
FREDERIC: I wish you‘d leave me! (FREDERIC casts RUTH from him)
PIRATES: We wish you‘d leave him!

ENSEMBLE

MEN WOMEN

Pray observe the magnanimity Pray observe the magnanimity
We display to lace and dimity! They display to lace and
dimity!
Never was such opportunity Never was such opportunity
To get married with impunity, To get married with impunity,
But we give up the felicity But they give up the felicity
Of unbounded domesticity, Of unbounded domesticity,
Though a doctor of divinity Though a doctor of divinity
Is located in this vicinity. Is located in this vicinity.

(GIRLS and MAJOR-GENERAL go up rocks, while PIRATES indulge in a
wild dance of delight on stage. The MAJOR-GENERAL produces
a British flag, and the PIRATE KING, in arched rock,
produces a black flag with skull and crossbones. Enter
RUTH, who makes a final appeal to FREDERIC, who casts her from him.)

END OF ACT I

ACT II

(Scene.-A ruined chapel by moonlight. Aisles C., R. and L.,
divided by pillars and arches, ruined Gothic windows at
back. MAJOR-GENERAL STANLEY discovered seated R.C.
pensively, surrounded by his daughters.)

CHORUS

Oh, dry the glist‘ning tear
That dews that martial cheek,
Thy loving children hear,
In them thy comfort seek.
With sympathetic care
Their arms around thee creep,
For oh, they cannot bear
To see their father weep!

(Enter MABEL)

SOLO--MABEL

Dear father, why leave your bed
At this untimely hour,
When happy daylight is dead,
And darksome dangers low‘r?
See, heav‘n has lit her lamp,
The midnight hour is past,
And the chilly night-air is damp,
And the dews are falling fast!
Dear father, why leave your bed
When happy daylight is dead?

GIRLS: Oh, dry the glist‘ning tear, etc.

(FREDERIC enters)

MABEL: Oh, Frederic, cannot you, in the calm excellence of
your wisdom, reconcile it with your conscience to say
something that will relieve my father‘s sorrow?
FREDERIC: I will try, dear Mabel. But why does he sit, night
after night, in this draughty old ruin?
GENERAL: Why do I sit here? To escape from the pirates‘
clutches, I described myself as an orphan; and, heaven
help me, I am no orphan! I come here to humble myself
before the tombs of my ancestors, and to implore their
pardon for having brought dishonour on the family
escutcheon.
FREDERIC: But you forget, sir, you only bought the property a
year ago, and the stucco on your baronial castle is
scarcely dry.
GENERAL: Frederic, in this chapel are ancestors: you cannot deny
that. With the estate, I bought the chapel and its
contents. I don‘t know whose ancestors they were, but
I know whose ancestors they are, and I shudder to think
that their descendant by purchase (if I may so describe
myself) should have brought disgrace upon what, I have
no doubt, was an unstained escutcheon.
FREDERIC: Be comforted. Had you not acted as you did, these
reckless men would assuredly have called in the nearest
clergyman, and have married your large family on the
spot.
GENERAL: I thank you for your proffered solace, but it is
unavailing. I assure you, Frederic, that such is the
anguish and remorse I feel at the abominable falsehood
by which I escaped these easily deluded pirates, that I
would go to their simple-minded chief this very night
and confess all, did I not fear that the consequences
would be most disastrous to myself. At what time does
your expedition march against these scoundrels?
FREDERIC: At eleven, and before midnight I hope to have atoned
for my involuntary association with the pestilent
scourges by sweeping them from the face of the earth--
and then, dear Mabel, you will be mine!
GENERAL: Are your devoted followers at hand?
FREDERIC: They are, they only wait my orders.

RECIT – GENERAL

Then, Frederic, let your escort lion-hearted
Be summoned to receive a gen‘ral‘s blessing,
Ere they depart upon their dread adventure.

FREDERIC: Dear, sir, they come.

(Enter POLICE, marching in single file. They form in line, facing
audience.)

SONG – SERGEANT

When the foeman bares his steel,
Tarantara! tarantara!
We uncomfortable feel,
Tarantara!
And we find the wisest thing,
Tarantara! tarantara!
Is to slap our chests and sing,
Tarantara!
For when threatened with ©meutes,
Tarantara! tarantara!
And your heart is in your boots,
Tarantara!
There is nothing brings it round
Like the trumpet‘s martial sound,
Like the trumpet‘s martial sound
Tarantara! tarantara!, etc.

MABEL: Go, ye heroes, go to glory,
Though you die in combat gory,
Ye shall live in song and story.
Go to immortality!
Go to death, and go to slaughter;
Die, and every Cornish daughter
With her tears your grave shall water.
Go, ye heroes, go and die!

GIRLS: Go, ye heroes, go and die! Go, ye heroes, go and die!

POLICE: Though to us it‘s evident,
Tarantara! tarantara!
These attentions are well meant,
Tarantara!
Such expressions don‘t appear,
Tarantara! tarantara!
Calculated men to cheer
Tarantara!
Who are going to meet their fate
In a highly nervous state.
Tarantara! tarantara! tarantara!
Still to us it‘s evident
These attentions are well meant.
Tarantara! tarantara! tarantara!

EDITH: Go and do your best endeavour,
And before all links we sever,
We will say farewell for-ever.
Go to glory and the grave!

GIRLS: For your foes are fierce and ruthless,
False, unmerciful, and truthless;
Young and tender, old and toothless,
All in vain their mercy crave.

SERGEANT: We observe too great a stress,
On the risks that on us press,
And of reference a lack
To our chance of coming back.
Still, perhaps it would be wise
Not to carp or criticise,
For it‘s very evident
These attentions are well meant.

POLICE: Yes, it‘s very evident
These attentions are well meant,
Evident, yes, well meant, evident
Ah, yes, well meant!

ENSEMBLE

Chorus of all but Police Chorus of Police

Go and do your best endeavour, Such expressions don‘t appear,
And before all links we sever Tarantara, tarantara!
We will say farewell for ever. Calculated men to cheer,
Go to glory and the grave! Tarantara!
For your foes and fierce and Who are going to their fate,
ruthless, Tarantara, tarantara!
False, unmerciful, and In a highly nervous state--
truthless. Tarantara!
Young and tender, old and We observe too great a stress,
toothless, Tarantara, tarantara!
All in vain their mercy crave. On the risks that on us press,
Tarantara!
And of reference a lack,
Tarantara, tarantara!
To our chance of coming back,
Tarantara!

GENERAL: Away, away!
POLICE: (without moving) Yes, yes, we go.
GENERAL: These pirates slay.
POLICE: Tarantara!
GENERAL: Then do not stay.
POLICE: Tarantara!
GENERAL: Then why this delay?
POLICE: All right, we go.
ALL: Yes, forward on the foe!
Yes, forward on the foe!
GENERAL: Yes, but you don‘t go!
POLICE: We go, we go
ALL: Yes, forward on the foe!
Yes, forward on the foe!
GENERAL: Yes, but you don‘t go!
POLICE: We go, we go
ALL: At last they go!
At last they really go!

(Exeunt POLICE. MABEL tears herself from FREDERIC and exits,
followed by her sisters, consoling her. The MAJOR-GENERAL
and others follow the POLICE off. FREDERIC remains alone.)

RECIT – FREDERIC

Now for the pirates‘ lair! Oh, joy unbounded!
Oh, sweet relief! Oh, rapture unexampled!
At last I may atone, in some slight measure,
For the repeated acts of theft and pillage
Which, at a sense of duty‘s stern dictation,
I, circumstance‘s victim, have been guilty!

(PIRATE KING and RUTH appear at the window, armed.)

KING: Young Frederic! (Covering him with pistol)
FREDERIC: Who calls?
KING: Your late commander!
RUTH: And I, your little Ruth! (Covering him with pistol)
FREDERIC: Oh, mad intruders,
How dare ye face me? Know ye not, oh rash ones,
That I have doomed you to extermination?

(KING and RUTH hold a pistol to each ear)

KING: Have mercy on us! hear us, ere you slaughter!
FREDERIC: I do not think I ought to listen to you.
Yet, mercy should alloy our stern resentment,
And so I will be merciful-- say on!

TRIO – RUTH, KING, and FREDERIC

RUTH: When you had left our pirate fold,
We tried to raise our spirits faint,
According to our custom old,
With quips and quibbles quaint.
But all in vain the quips we heard,
We lay and sobbed upon the rocks,
Until to somebody occurred
A startling paradox.
FREDERIC: A paradox?
KING: (laughing) A paradox!
RUTH: A most ingenious paradox!
We‘ve quips and quibbles heard in flocks,
But none to beat this paradox!
A paradox, a paradox,
A most ingenious paradox!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! ha!
KING: We knew your taste for curious quips,
For cranks and contradictions queer;
And with the laughter on our lips,
We wished you there to hear.
We said, „If we could tell it him,
How Frederic would the joke enjoy!“
And so we‘ve risked both life and limb
To tell it to our boy.
FREDERIC: (interested). That paradox? That paradox?
KING and RUTH: (laughing) That most ingenious paradox!
We‘ve quips and quibbles heard in flocks,
But none to beat this paradox!
A paradox, a paradox,
A most ingenious paradox!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! ho!

CHANT – KING

For some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I‘ve no desire to
be disloyal,
Some person in authority, I don‘t know who, very likely the
Astronomer Royal,
Has decided that, although for such a beastly month as February,
twenty-eight days as a rule are plenty,
One year in every four his days shall be reckoned as nine and-twenty.
Through some singular coincidence – I shouldn‘t be surprised if
it were owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy –
You are the victim of this clumsy arrangement, having been born
in leap-year, on the twenty-ninth of February;
And so, by a simple arithmetical process, you‘ll easily discover,
That though you‘ve lived twenty-one years, yet, if we go by
birthdays, you‘re only five and a little bit over!
RUTH: Ha! ha! ha! ha!
KING: Ho! ho! ho! ho!
FREDERIC: Dear me!
Let‘s see! (counting on fingers)
Yes, yes; with yours my figures do agree!
ALL: Ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho! ho!
FREDERIC: (more amused than any) How quaint the ways of Paradox!
At common sense she gaily mocks!
Though counting in the usual way,
Years twenty-one I‘ve been alive,
Yet, reck‘ning by my natal day,
Yet, reck‘ning by my natal day,
I am a little boy of five!
RUTH/KING: He is a little boy of five!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
ALL: A paradox, a paradox,
A most ingenious paradox!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! , etc.

(RUTH and KING throw themselves back on seats, exhausted with laughter)

FREDERIC: Upon my word, this is most curious-- most absurdly
whimsical. Five-and-a-quarter! No one would think it to look at me!
RUTH: You are glad now, I‘ll be bound, that you spared us.
You would never have forgiven yourself when you
discovered that you had killed two of your comrades.
FREDERIC: My comrades?
KING: (rises) I‘m afraid you don‘t appreciate the delicacy
of your position: You were apprenticed to us--
FREDERIC: Until I reached my twenty-first year.
KING: No, until you reached your twenty-first birthday
(producing document), and, going by birthdays, you are
as yet only five-and-a-quarter.
FREDERIC: You don‘t mean to say you are going to hold me to that?
KING: No, we merely remind you of the fact, and leave the
rest to your sense of duty.
RUTH: Your sense of duty!
FREDERIC: (wildly) Don‘t put it on that footing! As I was
merciful to you just now, be merciful to me! I implore
you not to insist on the letter of your bond just as
the cup of happiness is at my lips!
RUTH: We insist on nothing; we content ourselves with
pointing out to you your duty.
KING: Your duty!
FREDERIC: (after a pause) Well, you have appealed to my sense of
duty, and my duty is only too clear. I abhor your
infamous calling; I shudder at the thought that I have
ever been mixed up with it; but duty is before all – at any price I will do my duty.
KING: Bravely spoken! Come, you are one of us once more.
FREDERIC: Lead on, I follow. (Suddenly) Oh, horror!
KING/RUTH: What is the matter?
FREDERIC: Ought I to tell you? No, no, I cannot do it; and yet,
as one of your band--
KING: Speak out, I charge you by that sense of
conscientiousness to which we have never yet appealed
in vain.
FREDERIC: General Stanley, the father of my Mabel--
KING/RUTH: Yes, yes!
FREDERIC: He escaped from you on the plea that he was an orphan?
KING: He did.
FREDERIC: It breaks my heart to betray the honoured father of the
girl I adore, but as your apprentice I have no
alternative. It is my duty to tell you that General
Stanley is no orphan!
KING/RUTH: What!
FREDERIC: More than that, he never was one!
KING: Am I to understand that, to save his contemptible life,
he dared to practice on our credulous simplicity?
(FREDERIC nods as he weeps) Our revenge shall be swift
and terrible. We will go and collect our band and
attack Tremorden Castle this very night.
FREDERIC: But stay--
KING: Not a word! He is doomed!

TRIO

KING and RUTH: FREDERIC

Away, away! my heart‘s on fire; Away, away! ere I expire--
I burn, this base deception to I find my duty hard to do to-
repay. day!
This very night my vengeance dire My heart is filled with anguish dire,
Shall glut itself in gore. It strikes me to the core.
Away, away! Away, away!

KING: With falsehood foul
He tricked us of our brides.
Let vengeance howl;
The Pirate so decides.
Our nature stern
He softened with his lies,
And, in return,
To-night the traitor dies.

ALL: Yes, yes! to-night the traitor dies!
Yes, yes! to-night the traitor dies!

RUTH: To-night he dies!
KING: Yes, or early to-morrow.
FREDERIC: His girls likewise?
RUTH: They will welter in sorrow.
KING: The one soft spot
RUTH: In their natures they cherish--
FREDERIC: And all who plot
KING: To abuse it shall perish!
ALL: To-night he dies, etc.

(Exeunt KING and RUTH. FREDERIC throws himself on a stone in
blank despair. Enter MABEL.)

RECIT – MABEL

All is prepared, your gallant crew await you.
My Frederic in tears? It cannot be
That lion-heart quails at the coming conflict?

FREDERIC: No, Mabel, no.
A terrible disclosure
Has just been made.
Mabel, my dearly-loved one,
I bound myself to serve the pirate captain
Until I reached my one-and-twentieth birthday –
MABEL: But you are twenty-one?
FREDERIC: I‘ve just discovered
That I was born in leap-year, and that birthday
Will not be reached by me till nineteen forty!
MABEL: Oh, horrible! catastrophe appalling!
FREDERIC: And so, farewell!
MABEL: No, no!
Ah, Frederic, hear me.

DUET – MABEL and FREDERIC

MABEL: Stay, Fred‘ric, stay!
They have no legal claim,
No shadow of a shame
Will fall upon thy name.
Stay, Frederic, stay!

FREDERIC: Nay, Mabel, nay!
To-night I quit these walls,
The thought my soul appalls,
But when stern Duty calls,
I must obey.

MABEL: Stay, Fred‘ric, stay!
FREDERIC: Nay, Mabel, nay!
MABEL: They have no claim –
FREDERIC: But Duty‘s name.
The thought my soul appalls,
But when stern Duty calls,
MABEL: Stay, Fred‘ric, stay!
FREDERIC: I must obey.

BALLAD – MABEL

Ah, leave me not to pine
Alone and desolate;
No fate seemed fair as mine,
No happiness so great!
And Nature, day by day,
Has sung in accents clear
This joyous roundelay,
„He loves thee – he is here.
Fa-la, la-la,
Fa-la, la-la.
He loves thee – he is here.
Fa-la, la-la, Fa-la.“

FREDERIC: Ah, must I leave thee here
In endless night to dream,
Where joy is dark and drear,
And sorrow all supreme –
Where nature, day by day,
Will sing, in altered tone,
This weary roundelay,
„He loves thee – he is gone.
Fa-la, la-la,
Fa-la, la-la.
He loves thee – he is gone.
Fa-la, la-la, Fa-la.“

FREDERIC: In 1940 I of age shall be,
I‘ll then return, and claim you – I declare it!
MABEL: It seems so long!
FREDERIC: Swear that, till then, you will be true to me.
MABEL: Yes, I‘ll be strong!
By all the Stanleys dead and gone, I swear it!

ENSEMBLE

Oh, here is love, and here is truth,
And here is food for joyous laughter:
He (she) will be faithful to his (her) sooth
Till we are wed, and even after.
Oh, here is love, etc.

(FREDERIC rushes to window and leaps out)

MABEL: (almost fainting) No, I am brave! Oh, family descent,
How great thy charm, thy sway how excellent!
Come one and all, undaunted men in blue,
A crisis, now, affairs are coming to!

(Enter POLICE, marching in single file)

SERGEANT: Though in body and in mind
POLICE: Tarantara! tarantara!
SERGEANT: We are timidly inclined,
POLICE: Tarantara!
SERGEANT: And anything but blind
POLICE: Tarantara! tarantara!
SERGEANT: To the danger that‘s behind,
POLICE: Tarantara!
SERGEANT: Yet, when the danger‘s near,
POLICE: Tarantara! tarantara!
SERGEANT: We manage to appear
POLICE: Tarantara!
SERGEANT: As insensible to fear
As anybody here,
As anybody here.
POLICE: Tarantara! tarantara!, etc.

MABEL: Sergeant, approach! Young Frederic was to have led you
to death and glory.
POLICE: That is not a pleasant way of putting it.
MABEL: No matter; he will not so lead you, for he has allied
himself once more with his old associates.
POLICE: He has acted shamefully!
MABEL: You speak falsely. You know nothing about it. He has
acted nobly.
POLICE: He has acted nobly!
MABEL: Dearly as I loved him before, his heroic sacrifice to
his sense of duty has endeared him to me tenfold; but
if it was his duty to constitute himself my foe, it is
likewise my duty to regard him in that light. He has
done his duty. I will do mine. Go ye and do yours.
(Exit MABEL)
POLICE: Right oh!
SERGEANT: This is perplexing.
POLICE: We cannot understand it at all.
SERGEANT: Still, as he is actuated by a sense of duty –
POLICE: That makes a difference, of course. At the same time,
we repeat, we cannot understand it at all.
SERGEANT: No matter. Our course is clear: we must do our best
to capture these pirates alone. It is most distressing
to us to be the agents whereby our erring fellow-
creatures are deprived of that liberty which is so dear
to us al – but we should have thought of that before
we joined the force.
POLICE: We should!
SERGEANT: It is too late now!
POLICE: It is!

SOLO AND CHORUS

SERGEANT: When a felon‘s not engaged in his employment
POLICE: His employment
SERGEANT: Or maturing his felonious little plans,
POLICE: Little plans,
SERGEANT: His capacity for innocent enjoyment
POLICE: ‚Cent enjoyment
SERGEANT: Is just as great as any honest man‘s.
POLICE: Honest man‘s.
SERGEANT: Our feelings we with difficulty smother
POLICE: ‚Culty smother
SERGEANT: When constabulary duty‘s to be done.
POLICE: To be done.
SERGEANT: Ah, take one consideration with another,
POLICE: With another,
SERGEANT: A policeman‘s lot is not a happy one.
ALL: Ah, when constabulary duty‘s to be done, to be
done,
A policeman‘s lot is not a happy one, happy one.
SERGEANT: When the enterprising burglar‘s not a-burgling
POLICE: Not a-burgling
SERGEANT: When the cut-throat isn‘t occupied in crime,
POLICE: ‚Pied in crime,
SERGEANT: He loves to hear the little brook a-gurgling
POLICE: Brook a-gurgling
SERGEANT: And listen to the merry village chime.
POLICE: Village chime.
SERGEANT: When the coster‘s finished jumping on his mother,
POLICE: On his mother,
SERGEANT: He loves to lie a-basking in the sun.
POLICE: In the sun.
SERGEANT: Ah, take one consideration with another,
POLICE: With another,
SERGEANT: A policeman‘s lot is not a happy one.
ALL: Ah, when constabulary duty‘s to be done, to be
done,
A policeman‘s lot is not a happy one, happy one.

(Chorus of Pirates without, in the distance)

A rollicking band of pirates we,
Who, tired of tossing on the sea,
Are trying their hand at a burglaree,
With weapons grim and gory.

SERGEANT: Hush, hush! I hear them on the manor poaching,
With stealthy step the pirates are approaching.

(Chorus of Pirates, resumed nearer.)

We are not coming for plate or gold;
A story General Stanley‘s told;
We seek a penalty fifty-fold,
For General Stanley‘s story.

POLICE: They seek a penalty
PIRATES: Fifty-fold!
We seek a penalty
POLICE: Fifty-fold!
ALL: They (We) seek a penalty fifty-fold,
For General Stanley‘s story.
SERGEANT: They come in force, with stealthy stride,
Our obvious course is now--to hide.
POLICE: Tarantara! Tarantara! etc.

(Police conceal themselves in aisle. As they do so, the Pirates,
with RUTH and FREDERIC, are seen appearing at ruined window.
They enter cautiously, and come down stage on tiptoe.
SAMUEL is laden with burglarious tools and pistols, etc.)

CHORUS – PIRATES (very loud)

With cat-like tread,
Upon our prey we steal;
In silence dread,
Our cautious way we feel.
No sound at all!
We never speak a word;
A fly‘s foot-fall
Would be distinctly heard –
POLICE: (softly) Tarantara, tarantara!
PIRATES: So stealthily the pirate creeps,
While all the household soundly sleeps.
Come, friends, who plough the sea,
Truce to navigation;
Take another station;
Let‘s vary piracee
With a little burglaree!
POLICE: (softly) Tarantara, tarantara!
SAMUEL: (distributing implements to various members of the gang)
Here‘s your crowbar and your centrebit,
Your life-preserver – you may want to hit!
Your silent matches, your dark lantern seize,
Take your file and your skeletonic keys.
POLICE: Tarantara!
PIRATES: With cat-like tread
POLICE: Tarantara!
PIRATES: in silence dread,

(Enter KING, FREDERIC and RUTH)

ALL (fortissimo). With cat-like tread, etc.

RECIT

FREDERIC: Hush, hush! not a word; I see a light inside!
The Major-Gen‘ral comes, so quickly hide!
PIRATES: Yes, yes, the Major-General comes!

(Exeunt KING, FREDERIC, SAMUEL, and RUTH)

POLICE: Yes, yes, the Major-General comes!
GENERAL: (entering in dressing-gown, carrying a light)
Yes, yes, the Major-General comes!

SOLO – GENERAL

Tormented with the anguish dread
Of falsehood unatoned,
I lay upon my sleepless bed,
And tossed and turned and groaned.
The man who finds his conscience ache
No peace at all enjoys;
And as I lay in bed awake,
I thought I heard a noise.
MEN: He thought he heard a noise – ha! ha!
GENERAL: No, all is still
In dale, on hill;
My mind is set at ease –
So still the scene,
It must have been
The sighing of the breeze.

BALLAD – GENERAL

Sighing softly to the river
Comes the loving breeze,
Setting nature all a-quiver,
Rustling through the trees.
MEN: Through the trees.
GENERAL: And the brook, in rippling measure,
Laughs for very love,
While the poplars, in their pleasure,
Wave their arms above.
MEN: Yes, the trees, for very love,
Wave their leafy arms above.
ALL: River, river, little river,
May thy loving prosper ever!
Heaven speed thee, poplar tree,
May thy wooing happy be.
GENERAL: Yet, the breeze is but a rover,
When he wings away,
Brook and poplar mourn a lover
Sighing ,“Well-a-day!“
MEN: Well-a-day!
GENERAL: Ah! the doing and undoing,
That the rogue could tell!
When the breeze is out a-wooing,
Who can woo so well?

MEN: Shocking tales the rogue could tell,
Nobody can woo so well.
ALL: Pretty brook, thy dream is over,
For thy love is but a rover;
Sad the lot of poplar trees,
Courted by a fickle breeze!

(Enter the MAJOR-GENERAL‘s daughters, led by MABEL, all in white
peignoirs and night-caps, and carrying lighted candles.)

GIRLS: Now what is this, and what is that, and why does father
leave his rest
At such a time of night as this, so very incompletely
dressed?
Dear father is, and always was, the most methodical of
men!
It‘s his invariable rule to go to bed at half-past ten.
What strange occurrence can it be that calls dear
father from his rest
At such a time of night as this, so very incompletely
dressed?

(Enter KING, SAMUEL, and FREDERIC)

KING: Forward, my men, and seize that General there! His
life is over. (They seize the GENERAL)
GIRLS: The pirates! the pirates! Oh, despair!
PIRATES: (springing up) Yes, we‘re the pirates, so despair!
GENERAL: Frederic here! Oh, joy! Oh. rapture!
Summon your men and effect their capture!
MABEL: Frederic, save us!
FREDERIC: Beautiful Mabel,
I would if I could, but I am not able.
PIRATES: He‘s telling the truth, he is not able.
KING: With base deceit
You worked upon our feelings!
Revenge is sweet,
And flavours all our dealings!
With courage rare
And resolution manly,
For death prepare,
Unhappy Gen‘ral Stanley.

MABEL: (wildly) Is he to die, unshriven, unannealed?
GIRLS: Oh, spare him!
MABEL: Will no one in his cause a weapon wield?
GIRLS: Oh, spare him!
POLICE: (springing up) Yes, we are here, though hitherto
concealed!
GIRLS: Oh, rapture!
POLICE: So to Constabulary, pirates yield!
GIRLS: Oh, rapture!

(A struggle ensues between Pirates and Police, RUTH tackling the
SERGEANT. Eventually the Police are overcome and fall
prostrate, the Pirates standing over them with drawn
swords.)

CHORUS OF PIRATES AND POLICE

PIRATES POLICE

We triumph now, for well we You triumph now, for well we
trow trow
Your mortal career‘s cut short; Our mortal career‘s cut short;
No pirate band will take its No pirate band will take its
stand stand
At the Central Criminal Court. At the Central Criminal Court.

SERGEANT: To gain a brief advantage you‘ve contrived,
But your proud triumph will not be long-lived
KING: Don‘t say you are orphans, for we know that game.
SERGEANT: On your allegiance we‘ve a stronger claim.
We charge you yield, we charge you yield,
In Queen Victoria‘s name!
KING: (baffled) You do?
POLICE: We do!
We charge you yield,
In Queen Victoria‘s name!

(PIRATES kneel, POLICE stand over them triumphantly.)

KING: We yield at once, with humbled mien,
Because, with all our faults, we love our Queen.
POLICE: Yes, yes, with all their faults, they love their Queen.
ALL: Yes, yes, with all their faults, they love their Queen.

(POLICE, holding PIRATES by the collar, take out handkerchiefs
and weep.)

GENERAL: Away with them, and place them at the bar!

(Enter RUTH)

RUTH: One moment! let me tell you who they are.
They are no members of the common throng;
They are all noblemen who have gone wrong.
ALL: They are all noblemen who have gone wrong.
GENERAL: No Englishman unmoved that statement hears,
Because, with all our faults, we love our House of
Peers. (All kneel)
I pray you, pardon me, ex-Pirate King!
Peers will be peers, and youth will have its fling.
Resume your ranks and legislative duties,
And take my daughters, all of whom are beauties.

FINALE--MABEL, EDITH and ENSEMBLE

Poor wandering ones!
Though ye have surely strayed,
Take heart of grace,
Your steps retrace,
Poor wandering ones!
Poor wandering ones!
If such poor love as ours
Can help you find
True peace of mind,
Why, take it, it is yours!

ALL: Poor wandering ones! etc.

END OF OPERA

Zur Übersicht zurück

Princess Ida

or: Castle Adamant

libretto by William S. Gilbert

music by Arthur S. Sullivan

Dramatis Personae:

King Hildebrand
Hilarion (His son)

Hilarion‘s friends:
Cyril
Florian

King Gama

His sons:
Arac
Guron
Scynthius

Princess Ida (Gama‘s daughter)
Lady Blanche (Professor of Abstract Science)
Lady Psyche (Professor of Humanities)
Melissa (Lady Blanche‘s Daughter)

Girl Graduates:
Sacharissa
Chloe
Ada

Soldiers, Courtiers, „Girl Graduates,“ „Daughters of the Plough,“
etc.

ACT I – Pavilion in King Hildebrand‘s Palace

ACT II– Gardens of Castle Adamant

ACT III – Courtyard of Castle Adamant

ACT I

SCENE. Pavilion attached to King Hildebrand‘s Palace.
Soldiers and courtiers discovered looking out through
opera-glasses, telescopes, etc., Florian leading.

CHORUS AND SOLO (Florian)
„Search throughout the panorama“

Chorus: Search throughout the panorama
For a sign of royal Gama,
Who to-day should cross the water
With his fascinating daughter –
Ida is her name.

Some misfortune evidently
Has detained them – consequently
Search throughout the panorama
For the daughter of King Gama,
Prince Hilarion‘s flame!
Prince Hilarion‘s flame!

SOLO – Florian

Florian: Will Prince Hilarion‘s hopes be sadly blighted?

Chorus: Who can tell? Who can tell?

Florian: Will Ida break the vows that she has plighted?

Chorus: Who can tell? Who can tell?

Florian: Will she back out, and say she did not mean them?

Chorus: Who can tell?

Florian: If so, there‘ll be the deuce to pay between them!

Chorus: No, no – we‘ll not despair, we‘ll not despair,
For Gama would not dare
To make a deadly foe
Of Hildebrand, and so,
Search through the panorama
For a sign of royal Gama,
Who today should cross the water
With his fascinating daughter –
Ida, Ida is her name.

(Enter King Hildebrand with Cyril)

Hildebd: See you no sign of Gama?

Florian: None, my liege!

Hildebd: It‘s very odd indeed. If Gama fail
To put in an appearance at our Court
Before the sun has set in yonder west,
And fail to bring the Princess Ida here
To whom our son Hilarion was betrothed
At the extremely early age of one,
There‘s war between King Gama and ourselves!
(aside to Cyril)
Oh, Cyril, how I dread this interview!
It‘s twenty years since he and I have met.
He was a twisted monster – all awry – –
As though Dame Nature, angry with her work,
Had crumpled it in fitful petulance!

Cyril: But, sir, a twisted and ungainly trunk
Often bears goodly fruit. Perhaps he was
A kind, well-spoken gentleman?

Hildebd: Oh, no!
For, adder-like, his sting lay in his tongue.
(His „sting“ is present, though his „stung“ is past.)

Florian: (looking through glass)
But stay, my liege; o‘er yonder mountain‘s brow
Comes a small body, bearing Gama‘s arms;
And now I look more closely at it, sir,
I see attached to it King Gama‘s legs;
From which I gather this corollary
That that small body must be Gama‘s own!

Hildebd: Ha! Is the Princess with him?

Florian: Well, my liege,
Unless her highness is full six feet high,
And wears mustachios too – and smokes cigars – –
And rides en cavalier in coat of steel – –
I do not think she is.

Hildebd: One never knows.
She‘s a strange girl, I‘ve heard, and does odd
things!
Come, bustle there!
For Gama place the richest robes we own – –
For Gama place the coarsest prison dress – –
For Gama let our best spare bed be aired – –
For Gama let our deepest dungeon yawn – –
For Gama lay the costliest banquet out – –
For Gama place cold water and dry bread!
For as King Gama brings the Princess here,
Or brings her not, so shall King Gama have
Much more than everything – much less than nothing!

SONG (Hildebrand and Chorus)
„Now Hearken to my Strict Command“

Hildebd: Now hearken to my strict command
On every hand, on every hand – –

Chorus: To your command,
On every hand,
We dutifully bow.

Hildebd: If Gama bring the Princess here,
Give him good cheer, give him good cheer.

Chorus: If she come here
We‘ll give him a cheer,
And we will show you how.
Hip, hip, hurrah! hip, hip, hurrah!
Hip, hip, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
We‘ll shout and sing
Long live the King,
And his daughter, too, I trow!
Then shout ha! ha! hip, hip, hurrah!
Hip, hip, hip, hip, hurrah!
For the fair Princess and her good papa,
Hurrah, hurrah!

Hildebd: But if he fail to keep his troth,
Upon our oath, we‘ll trounce them both!

Chorus: He‘ll trounce them both,
Upon his oath,
As sure as quarter-day!

Hildebd: We‘ll shut him up in a dungeon cell,
And toll his knell on a funeral bell.

Chorus: From his dungeon cell,
His funeral knell
Shall strike him with dismay!
Hip, hip, hurrah! hip, hip, hurrah!
Hip, hip, hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
As up we string
The faithless King,
In the old familiar way!
We‘ll shout ha! ha! hip, hip, hurrah!
Hip, hip, hip, hip, hurrah!
As we make an end of her false papa,
Hurrah, hurrah!
(Exeunt all)

(Enter Hilarion)

RECITATIVE AND SONG (Hilarion)
„Today we meet“

RECITATIVE – Hilarion

To-day we meet, my baby bride and I –
But ah, my hopes are balanc‘d by my fears!
What transmutations have been conjur‘d by
The silent alchemy of twenty years!

BALLAD – Hilarion

Ida was a twelve-month old,
Twenty years ago!
I was twice her age, I‘m told,
Twenty years ago!
Husband twice as old as wife
Argues ill for married life
Baleful prophecies were rife,
Twenty years ago,
Twenty years ago!

Still, I was a tiny prince
Twenty years ago.
She has gained upon me, since
Twenty years ago.
Though she‘s twenty-one, it‘s true,
I am barely twenty-two –
False and foolish prophets you
Twenty years ago,
Twenty years ago!

(Enter Hildebrand)

Hilarion: Well, father, is there news for me at last?

Hildebd: King Gama is in sight, but much I fear
With no Princess!

Hilarion: Alas, my liege, I‘ve heard,
That Princess Ida has forsworn the world,
And, with a band of women, shut herself
Within a lonely country house, and there
Devotes herself to stern philosophies!

Hildebd: Then I should say the loss of such a wife
Is one to which a reasonable man
Would easily be reconciled.

Hilarion: Oh, no!
Or I am not a reasonable man.
She is my wife – has been for twenty years!
(Holding glass) I think I see her now.

Hildebd: Ha! Let me look!

Hilarion: In my mind‘s eye, I mean – a blushing bride
All bib and tucker, frill and furbelow!
How exquisite she looked as she was borne,
Recumbent, in her foster-mother‘s arms!
How the bride wept – nor would be comforted
Until the hireling mother-for-the-nonce
Administered refreshment in the vestry.
And I remember feeling much annoyed
That she should weep at marrying with me.
But then I thought, „These brides are all alike.
You cry at marrying me? How much more cause
You‘d have to cry if it were broken off!“
These were my thoughts; I kept them to myself,
For at that age I had not learnt to speak.

(Exeunt Hildebrand and Hilarion)

(Enter Courtiers)

CHORUS
„From the distant panorama“

Chorus: From the distant panorama
Come the sons of royal Gama.
They are heralds evidently,
And are sacred consequently,
Sons of Gama, hail! oh, hail!

(Enter Arac, Guron, and Scynthius)

TRIO (Arac, Guron, Scynthius and Chorus)
„We are Warriors Three“

SONG – Arac

Arac: We are warriors three,
Sons of Gama, Rex,
Like most sons are we,
Masculine in sex.

All Three: Yes, yes, yes,
Masculine in sex.

Arac: Politics we bar,
They are not our bent;
On the whole we are
Not intelligent.

All Three: No, no, no,
Not intelligent.

Arac: But with doughty heart,
And with trusty blade
We can play our part –
Fighting is our trade.

All Three: Yes, yes, yes,
Fighting is our trade.

Bold and fierce, and strong, ha! ha!
For a war we burn,
With its right or wrong, ha! ha!
We have no concern.
Order comes to fight, ha! ha!
Order is obey‘d,
We are men of might, ha! ha!
Fighting is our trade.
Yes – yes, yes,
Fighting is our trade, ha! ha!

THE THREE PRINCIPALS CHORUS
Fighting is our trade, ha
ha! They are men of might, ha! ha!
Fighting is their trade.
Order comes to fight, ha! ha!
Order is obey‘d!
Order comes to fight!
Ha, Ha!
Order is obey‘d!
Fighting Fighting
is. Yes, yes, yes, is
Fighting is our trade, ha their
Ha! trade!

(Enter King Gama)

SONG (Gama)
„If you give me your Attention“

Gama: If you give me your attention, I will tell you what I
am:
I‘m a genuine philanthropist – all other kinds are
sham.
Each little fault of temper and each social defect
In my erring fellow-creatures, I endeavour to correct.
To all their little weaknesses I open people‘s eyes;
And little plans to snub the self-sufficient I devise;
I love my fellow creatures – I do all the good I can –
Yet ev‘rybody says I‘m such a disagreeable man!
And I can‘t think why!

To compliments inflated I‘ve a withering reply;
And vanity I always do my best to mortify;
A charitable action I can skillfully dissect;
And interested motives I‘m delighted to detect;
I know ev‘rybody‘s income and what ev‘rybody earns;
And I carefully compare it with the income-tax returns;
But to benefit humanity however much I plan,
Yet ev‘rybody says I‘m such a disagreeable man!
And I can‘t think why!

I‘m sure I‘m no ascetic; I‘m as pleasant as can be;
You‘ll always find me ready with a crushing repartee,
I‘ve an irritating chuckle, I‘ve a celebrated sneer,
I‘ve an entertaining snigger, I‘ve a fascinating leer.
To ev‘rybody‘s prejudice I know a thing or two;
I can tell a woman‘s age in half a minute – and I do.
But although I try to make myself as pleasant as I can,
Yet ev‘rybody says I‘m such a disagreeable man!
And I can‘t think why!

Chorus: He can‘t think why!
He can‘t think why!

(Enter Hildebrand, Hilarion, Cyril and Florian)

Gama: So this is Castle Hildebrand? Well, well!
Dame Rumour whispered that the place was grand;
She told me that your taste was exquisite,
Superb, unparalleled!

Hildebnd: (Gratified) Oh, really, King!

Gama: But she‘s a liar! Why, how old you‘ve grown!
Is this Hilarion? Why, you‘ve changed too –
You were a singularly handsome child!
(To Florian) Are you a courtier? Come, then ply your trade,
Tell me some lies. How do you like your King?
Vile rumour says he‘s all but imbecile.
Now, that‘s not true?

Florian: My lord, we love our King.
His wise remarks are valued by his court
As precious stones.

Gama: And for the self-same cause.
Like precious stones, his sensible remarks
Derive their value from their scarcity!
Come now, be honest, tell the truth for once!
Tell it of me. Come, come, I‘ll harm you not.
This leg is crooked – this foot is ill-designed –
This shoulder wears a hump! Come, out with it!
Look, here‘s my face! Now, am I not the worst
Of Nature‘s blunders?

Cyril: Nature never errs.
To those who know the workings of your mind,
Your face and figure, sir, suggest a book
Appropriately bound.

Gama: (Enraged) Why, harkye, sir,
How dare you bandy words with me?

Cyril: No need
To bandy aught that appertains to you.

Gama: (Furiously) Do you permit this, King?

Hildebd: We are in doubt
Whether to treat you as an honoured guest
Or as a traitor knave who plights his word
And breaks it.

Gama: (Quickly) If the casting vote‘s with me,
I give it for the former!

Hildebd: We shall see.
By the terms of our contract, signed and sealed,
You‘re bound to bring the Princess here to-day:
Why is she not with you?

Gama: Answer me this:
What think you of a wealthy purse-proud man,
Who, when he calls upon a starving friend,
Pulls out his gold and flourishes his notes,
And flashes diamonds in the pauper‘s eyes?
What name have you for such an one?

Hildebd: A snob.

Gama: Just so. The girl has beauty, virtue, wit,
Grace, humour, wisdom, charity and pluck.
Would it be kindly, think you, to parade
These brilliant qualities before your eyes?
Oh no, King Hildebrand, I am no snob!

Hildebd: (Furiously) Stop that tongue,
Or you shall lose the monkey head that holds it!

Gama: Bravo! Your King deprives me of my head,
That he and I may meet on equal terms!

Hildebd: Where is she now? (Threatening)

Gama: In Castle Adamant,
One of my many country houses. There
She rules a woman‘s University,
With full a hundred girls, who learn of her.

Cyril: A hundred girls! A hundred ecstasies!

Gama: But no mere girls, my good young gentleman;
With all the college learning that you boast,
The youngest there will prove a match for you.

Cyril: With all my heart, if she‘s the prettiest!
(To Florian) Fancy, a hundred matches – all alight! –
That‘s if I strike them as I hope to do!

Gama: Despair your hope; their hearts are dead to men.
He who desires to gain their favour must
Be qualified to strike their teeming brains,
And not their hearts. They‘re safety matches, sir,
And they light only on the knowledge box –
So you‘ve no chance!

Florian: And there are no males whatever in those walls?

Gama: None, gentlemen, excepting letter mails –
And they are driven (as males often are
In other large communities) by women.
Why, bless my heart, she‘s so particular
She‘ll hardly suffer Dr. Watts‘s hymns –
And all the animals she owns are „hers“!
The ladies rise at cockcrow every morn –

Cyril: Ah, then they have male poultry?

Gama: Not at all,
(Confidentially) The crowing‘s done by an accomplished hen!

FINALE
(Gama, Hildebrand, Cyril, Hilarion, Florian
and Chorus of Girls and Men)

DUET (Gama and Hildebrand)
„P‘raps if you Address the Lady“

Gama: P‘raps if you address the lady
Most politely, most politely –
Flatter and impress the lady,
Most politely, most politely, –
Humbly beg and humbly sue –
She may deign to look on you,
But your doing you must do
Most politely, most politely, most politely!

All: Humbly beg and humbly sue,
She may deign to look on you,
But your doing you must do
Most politely, most politely, most politely!

Hildebd: Go you and inform the lady,
Most politely, most politely,
If she don‘t, we‘ll storm the lady
Most politely, most politely!

(To Gama) You‘ll remain as hostage here;
Should Hillarion disappear,
We will hang you, never fear,
Most politely, most politely, most politely!

All: He‘ll [I‘ll] [You‘ll] remain as hostage here.
Should Hilarion disappear,
They [We] will hang me [you] never fear,
Most politely, most politely, most politely!

(Gama, Arac, Guron and Scynthius are marched off in custody,
Hildebrand following)

RECITATIVE – Hilarion

Come, Cyril, Florian, our course is plain,
To-morrow morn fair Ida we‘ll engage;
But we will use no force her love to gain,
Nature, nature has arm‘d us for the war we
wage!

TRIO – Hilarion, Cyril, and Florian

Hilarion: Expressive glances
Shall be our lances,
And pops of Sillery
Our light artillery.
We‘ll storm their bowers
With scented showers
Of fairest flowers
That we can buy!

Chorus: Oh, dainty triolet!
Oh, fragrant violet!
Oh, gentle heigho-let!
(Or little sigh).
On sweet urbanity,
Through mere inanity,
To touch their vanity
We will rely!

Cyril: When day is fading,
With serenading
And such frivolity
We‘ll prove our quality.
A sweet profusion
Of soft allusion
This bold intrusion
Shall justify,
This bold intrusion
Shall justify.

Chorus: Oh, dainty triolet!
Oh, fragrant violet!
Oh, gentle heigho-let!
(Or little sigh).
On sweet urbanity,
Through mere inanity,
To touch their vanity
We will rely!

Florian: We‘ll charm their senses
With verbal fences,
With ballads amatory
And declamatory.
Little heeding
Their pretty pleading,
Our love exceeding
We‘ll justify!
Our love exceeding
We‘ll justify!

Chorus: Oh, dainty triolet!
Oh, fragrant violet!
Oh, gentle heigho-let!
(Or little sigh).
On sweet urbanity,
Through mere inanity,
To touch their vanity
We will rely!

Sops: Oh dainty Altos, Tenors, and Basses:
triolet! Oh fragrant Oh
violet! Oh dain-
gentle ty
heigh-o-let! (Or tri-
little o-
sigh). let!

Hilarion & Cyril:
Oh dainty Chorus:
triolet! Oh fragrant Oh
violet (Add Florian) Oh fra-
gentle grant
heigh-o-let! (Or vi-
little o-
sigh). let!

Sops & Altos: Tenors & Basses:
Oh dainty Oh dainty
triolet! Oh tri-
fragrant o-
violet let!

All: Oh dainty triolet!
Oh fragrant violet!

(Re-enter Gama, Arac, Guron, and Scynthius heavily ironed, followed
by Hildebrand)

RECITATIVE

Gama: Must we, till then, in prison cell be thrust?

Hildebd: You must!

Gama: This seems unnecessarily severe!
Arac, Guron
& Scyn: Hear, hear!

TRIO – Arac, Guron and Scynthius

For a month to dwell
In a dungeon cell:
Growing thin and wizen
In a solitary prison,
Is a poor look out
For a soldier stout,
Who is longing for the rattle
Of a complicated battle –
For the rum – tum – tum
Of the military drum
And the guns that go boom! boom!

All: The rum – tum – tum
Of the military drum,
Rum – tum – tum – tummy tummy tummy tummy tum
Who is longing for the rattle of a complicated
battle –
For the rum tum tum
Of the military drum!
Prr, prr, prr, ra – pum – pum!

Hildebd: When Hilarion‘s bride
Has at length complied
With the just conditions
Of our requisitions,
You may go in haste
And indulge your taste
For the fascinating rattle
Of a complicated battle –
For the rum – tum – tum,
Of the military drum,
And the guns that go boom! boom!

All: The rum – tum – tum
Of the military drum,
Rum – tum – tum – tummy tummy tummy tummy tum!
Who is longing for the rattle
Of a complicated battle
For the rum – tum – tum
Of the military drum!
Tum, prr – prr – prr ra – pum, pum!

But til that time you‘ll [we‘ll] here remain,
And bail we [they] will not entertain,
Should she our [his] mandate disobey,
Your [Our] lives the penalty will pay!
But till that time you‘ll [we‘ll] here remain,
And bail we [they] will not entertain.
Should she our [his] mandate disobey,
Your [Our] lives the penalty will pay!
Should she our [his] mandate disobey,
Your [Our] lives the penalty will pay!

(Gama, Arac, Guron, and Synthius are marched off.)

END OF ACT I

ACT II

SCENE Gardens in Castle Adamant. A river runs across the
back of the stage, crossed by a rustic bridge. Castle
Adamant in the distance.

Girl Graduates discovered seated at the feet of Lady
Psyche

CHORUS OF GIRLS & SOLOS (Lady Psyche, Melissa and Sacharissa)
„Towards the empyrean heights“

Chorus: Towards the empyrean heights
Of ev‘ry kind of lore,
We‘ve taken several easy flights,
And mean to take some more.
In trying to achieve success
No envy racks our heart,
And all the knowledge we possess,
We mutually impart.

SOLO – Melissa

Pray, what authors should she read
Who in Classics would succeed?

SOLO – Psyche

If you‘d climb the Helicon,
You should read Anacreon,
Ovid‘s Metamorphoses,
Likewise Aristophanes,
And the works of Juvenal:
These are worth attention, all;
But, if you will be advised,
You will get them Bowdlerized!

Chorus: Ah! we will get them Bowdlerized!

SOLO – Sacharissa

Pray you, tell us, if you can,
What‘s the thing that‘s known as Man?

SOLO – Psyche

Man will swear and man will storm –
Man is not at all good form –
Is of no kind of use –
Man‘s a donkey – Man‘s a goose –
Man is coarse and Man is plain –
Man is more or less insane –
Man‘s a ribald – Man‘s a rake,
Man is Nature‘s sole mistake!

Chorus: We‘ll a memorandum make –
Man is Nature‘s sole mistake!

And thus to empyrean height
Of ev‘ry kind of lore,
In search of wisdom‘s pure delight,
Ambitiously we soar.
In trying to achieve success
No envy racks our heart,
For all we know and all we guess
We mutually impart!
And all the knowledge we possess,
We mutually impart,
We mutually impart, impart.

(Enter Lady Blanche. All stand up demurely)

Blanche: Attention, ladies, while I read to you
The Princess Ida‘s list of punishments.
The first is Sacharissa. She‘s expelled!

All: Expelled!

Blan.: Expelled, because although she knew
No man of any kind may pass our walls,
She dared to bring a set of chessmen here!

Sach.: (Crying) I meant no harm; they‘re only men of wood!

Blan.: They‘re men with whom you give each other mate,
And that‘s enough! The next is Chloe.

Chloe: Ah!

Blan.: Chloe will lose three terms, for yesterday,
When looking through her drawing-book, I found
A sketch of a perambulator!

All: (Horrified) Oh!

Blan.: Double perambulator ...

All: Oh, oh!

Blan.: ...shameless girl!
That‘s all at present. Now, attention, pray;
Your Principal the Princess comes to give
Her usual inaugural address
To those young ladies who joined yesterday.

CHORUS OF GIRLS
„Mighty maiden with a mission“

Girls: Mighty maiden with a mission,
Paragon of common sense,
Running fount of erudition,
Miracle of eloquence,
Altos: We are blind and we would see;
Sops: We are bound, and would be free;

Girls: We are dumb, and we would talk;
We are lame, and we would walk.
(Enter the Princess)
Mighty maiden with a mission –
Paragon of common sense;
Running found of erudition –
Miracle of eloquence, of eloquence!

RECITATIVE & ARIA (Princess)
„Minerva! Oh, hear Me“

Princess: Minerva! Minerva!
Oh, hear me:
Oh, goddess wise
That lovest light
Endow with sight
Their unillumin‘d eyes.

At this my call,
A fervent few
Have come to woo
The rays that from thee fall,
That from thee fall.
Oh, goddess wise
That lovest light,
That lovest light,

Let fervent words and fervent thoughts be mine,
That I may lead them to thy sacred shrine!
Let fervent words and fervent thoughts be mine,
That I may lead them to thy sacred shrine,
I may lead them to thy sacred shrine, thy sacred shrine!

Princess: Women of Adamant, fair Neophytes –
Who thirst for such instruction as we give,
Attend, while I unfold a parable.
The elephant is mightier than Man,
Yet Man subdues him. Why? The elephant
Is elephantine everywhere but here (tapping her
forehead),
And Man, whose brain is to the elephant‘s
As Woman‘s brain to Man‘s – (that‘s rule of three), –
Conquers the foolish giant of the woods,
As Woman, in her turn, shall conquer Man.
In Mathematics, Woman leads the way;
The narrow-minded pedant still believes
That two and two make four! Why, we can prove,
We women – household drudges as we are –
That two and two make five – or three – or seven;
Or five and twenty, if the case demands!
Diplomacy? The wiliest diplomat
Is absolutely helpless in our hands.
He wheedles monarchs – Woman wheedles him!
Logic? Why, tyrant Man himself admits
It‘s a waste of time to argue with a woman!
Then we excel in social qualities:
Though man professes that he holds our sex
In utter scorn, I venture to believe
He‘d rather pass the day with one of you,
Than with five hundred of his fellow-men!
In all things we excel. Believing this,
A hundred maidens here have sworn to place
Their feet upon his neck. If we succeed,
We‘ll treat him better than he treated us:
But if we fail, why, then let hope fail too!
Let no one care a penny how she looks –
Let red be worn with yellow – blue with green –
Crimson with scarlet – violet with blue!
Let all your things misfit, and you yourselves
At inconvenient moments come undone!
Let hair-pins lose their virtue: let the hook
Disdain the fascination of the eye –
The bashful button modestly evade
The soft embraces of the button-hole!
Let old associations all dissolve,
Let Swan secede from Edgar – Gask from Gask,
Sewell from Cross – Lewis from Allenby!
In other words, let Chaos come again!
(Coming down) Who lectures in the Hall of Arts to-day?

Blanche: I, madam, on Abstract Philosophy.
There I propose considering, at length,
Three points – The Is, the Might Be, and the Must.
Whether the Is, from being actual fact,
Is more important than the vague Might Be,
Or the Might Be, from taking wider scope,
Is for that reason greater than the Is:
And lastly, how the Is and Might Be stand
Compared with the inevitable Must!

Princess: The subject‘s deep – how do you treat it, pray?

Blan.: Madam, I take three possibilities,
And strike a balance then between the three:
As thus: The Princess Ida Is our head,
the Lady Psyche Might Be, – Lady Blanche,
Neglected Blanche, inevitably Must.
Given these three hypotheses – to find
The actual betting against each of them!

Princess: Your theme‘s ambitious: pray you bear in mind
Who highest soar fall farthest. Fare you well,
You and your pupils! Maidens, follow me.

[Exeunt Princess and maidens.
Manet Lady Blanche.

EXEUNT FOR PRINCESS IDA & GIRLS
„And thus to Empyrean Height“

Chorus: And thus to empyrean height
Of ev‘ry kind of lore,
In search of wisdom‘s pure delight,
Ambitiously we soar.
In trying to achieve success
No envy racks our heart,
For all we know and all we guess
We mutually impart!
And all the knowledge we possess,
We mutually impart,
We mutually impart, impart.

Blan.: I should command here – I was born to rule,
But do I rule? I don‘t. Why? I don‘t know.
I shall some day. Not yet, I bide my time.
I once was Some One – and the Was Will Be.
The Present as we speak becomes the Past,
The Past repeats itself, and so is Future!
This sounds involved. It‘s not. It‘s right enough.

(Since 1935 the following song has been usually omitted)
SONG (Lady Blanche)
„Come, mighty Must!“

Blanche: Come mighty Must!
Inevitable Shall!
In thee I trust.
Time weaves my coronal!
Go, mocking Is!
Go, disappointing Was!
That I am this
Ye are the cursed cause!
Ye are the cursed cause!
Yet humble second shall be first,
I wean
And dead and buried be the curst
Has Been!

Oh, weak Might Be!
Oh, May, Might, Could, Would, Should!
How pow‘rless ye
For evil or for good!
In ev‘ry sense
Your moods I cheerless call.
Whate‘er your tense
Ye are imperfect all.
Ye have deceiv‘d the trust I‘ve shown
In ye!
Ye have deceiv‘d the trust I‘ve shown
In ye!
I‘ve shown in ye!
Away! The Mighty Must alone
Shall be!
[Exit Lady Blanche

[Enter Hilarion, Cyril, and Florian, climbing over wall, and creep-
ing cautiously among the trees and rocks at the back of
the stage.]

TRIO (Cyril, Hilarion and Florian)
„Gently, gently“

All: Gently, gently,
Evidently
We are safe so far,
After scaling
Fence and paling,
Here, at last, we are!

Florian: In this college,
Useful knowledge
Ev‘rywhere one finds,
And already,
Growing steady,
We‘ve enlarged our minds

Cyril: We learnt that prickly cactus
Has power to attract us
When we fall.

All: When we fall!

Hilarion: That nothing man unsettles
Like a bed of stinging nettles,
Short or tall.

All: Short or tall!

Florian: That bull-dogs feed on throttles –
That we don‘t like broken bottles
On a wall.

All: On a wall!

Hilarion: That spring-guns breathe defiance!
And that burglary‘s a science
After all!

All: After all!

Florian: A Woman‘s college! maddest folly going!
What can girls learn within its walls worth
knowing?
I‘ll lay a crown (the Princess shall decide it)
I‘ll teach them twice as much in half-an-hour
outside it.

Hilarion: Hush, scoffer; ere you sound your puny thunder,
List to their aims, and bow your head in wonder!

They intend to send a wire
To the moon

Cyril &
Florian: To the moon;

Hilarion: And they‘ll set the Thames on fire
Very soon

Cyril &
Florian: Very soon;

Hilarion: Then they‘ll learn to make silk purses
With their rigs

Cyril &
Florian: With their rigs.

Hilarion: From the ears of Lady Circe‘s
Piggy-wigs

Cyril &
Florian: Piggy-wigs.

Hilarion: And weasels at their slumbers
They trepan

Cyril &
Florian: They trepan;

Hilarion: To get sunbeams from cucumbers
They‘ve a plan

Cyril
& Florian: They‘ve a plan.

Hilarion: They‘ve a firmly rooted notion
They can cross the Polar Ocean,
And they‘ll find Perpetual Motion,
If they can

All: If they can.
These are the phenomena
That ev‘ry pretty domina
Is hoping at her Universitee we shall see.

These are the phenomena
That ev‘ry pretty domina
Is hoping at her Universitee we shall see!

Cyril: As for fashion, they forswear it,
So they say

Hilarion &
Florian: So they say;

Cyril: And the circle – they will square it
Some fine day

Hilarion &
Florian: Some fine day;

Cyril: Then the little pigs they‘re teaching
For to fly

Hilarion &
Florian: For to fly;

Cyril: And the niggers they‘ll be bleaching,
By and by

Hilarion &
Florian: By and by!

Cyril: Each newly joined aspirant
To the clan

Hilarion &
Florian: To the clan

Cyril: Must repudiate the tyrant
Known as Man

Hilarion &
Florian: Known as Man.

Cyril: They‘ll mock at him and flout him,
For they do not care about him
And they‘re „going to do without him“
If they can

All: If they can!

These are the phenomena
That ev‘ry pretty domina
Is hoping at her Universitee we shall see.

These are the phenomena
That ev‘ry pretty domina
Is hoping at her Universitee we shall see!

Hilarion: So that‘s the Princess Ida‘s castle! Well,
They must be lovely girls, indeed, if it requires
Such walls as those to keep intruders off!

Cyril: To keep men off is only half their charge,
And that the easier half. I much suspect
The object of these walls is not so much
To keep men off as keep the maidens in!

Florian: But what are these? (Examining some Collegiate robes)

Hilarion: (looking at them) Why, Academic robes,
Worn by the lady undergraduates
When they matriculate. Let‘s try them on. (They do
so.)
Why, see – we‘re covered to the very toes.
Three lovely lady undergraduates
Who, weary of the world and all its wooing – (pose)

Florian: And penitent for deeds there‘s no undoing – (pose)

Cyril: Looked at askance by well-conducted maids – (pose)

All: Seek sanctuary in these classic shades!

TRIO (Cyril, Hilarion and Florian)
„I am a maiden“

Hilarion: I am a maiden, cold and stately,
Heartless I, with face divine.
What do I want with a heart, innately?
Every heart I meet is mine!
Every heart I meet is mine, is mine!

All: Haughty, humble, coy, or free,
Little care I what maid may be.
So that a maid is fair to see,
Ev‘ry maid is the maid for me!

(Dance)

Cyril: I am a maiden, frank and simple,
Brimming with joyous roguery;
Merriment lurks in ev‘ry dimple
Nobody breaks more hearts than I!
Nobody breaks more hearts, more hearts than I

All: Haughty, humble, coy, or free,
Little care I what maid may be.
So that a maid is fair to see,
Ev‘ry maid is the maid for me!

(Dance)

Florian: I am a maiden coyly blushing,
Timid am I as a startled hind;
Every suitor sets me flushing,
Every suitor sets me flushing:
I am the maid that wins mankind!

All: Haughty, humble, coy, or free,
Little care I what maid may be.
So that a maid is fair to see,
Ev‘ry maid is the maid for me!
Haughty, humble, coy, or free,
Little care I what maid may be.
So that a maid is fair to see,
Ev‘ry maid is the maid for me!

[Enter the Princess, reading. She does not see them.)

Florian: But who comes here? The Princess, as I live!
What shall we do?

Hilarion: (Aside) Why, we must brave it out!
(Aloud) Madam, accept our humblest reverence.

(They bow, then suddenly recollecting themselves, curtsey.)

Princess: (Surprised) We greet you, ladies. What would you
with us?

Hilarion: (Aside to Cyril)
What shall I say? (Aloud) We are three students,
ma‘am,
Three well-born maids of liberal estate,
Who wish to join this University.

(Hilarion and Florian curtsey again. Cyril bows extravagantly,
then, being recalled to himself by Florian, curtseys.)

Princess: If, as you say, you wish to join our ranks,
And will subscribe to all our rules, ‚tis well.

Florian: To all your rules we cheerfully subscribe.

Princess: You say you‘re noblewomen. Well, you‘ll find
No sham degrees for noblewomen here.
You‘ll find no sizars here, or servitors,
Or other cruel distinctions, meant to draw
A line ‚twixt rich and poor; you‘ll find no tufts
To mark nobility, except such tufts
As indicate nobility of brain.
As for your fellow-students, mark me well:
There are a hundred maids within these walls,
All good, all learned, and all beautiful:
They are prepared to love you: will you swear
To give the fullness of your love to them?

Hilarion: Upon our words and honours, Ma‘am, we will!

Princess: But we go further: Will you undertake
That you will never marry any man?

Florian: Indeed we never will!

Princess: Consider well,
You must prefer our maids to all mankind!

Hilarion: To all mankind we much prefer your maids!

Cyril: We should be dolts indeed, if we did not, seeing how
fair –

Hilarion: (Aside to Cyril) Take care – that‘s rather strong!

Princess: But have you left no lovers at your home
Who may pursue you here?

Hilarion: No, madam, none.
We‘re homely ladies, as no doubt you see,
And we have never fished for lover‘s love.
We smile at girls who deck themselves with gems,
False hair and meretricious ornament,
To chain the fleeting fancy of a man,
But do not imitate them. What we have
Of hair, is all our own. Our colour, too,
Unladylike, but not unwomanly,
Is Nature‘s handiwork, and man has learnt
To reckon Nature an impertinence.

Princess: Well, beauty counts for naught within these walls;
If all you say is true, you‘ll pass with us
A happy, happy time!

Cyril: If, as you say,
A hundred lovely maidens wait within,
To welcome us with smiles and open arms,
I think there‘s very little doubt we shall!

QUARTET (Princess, Cyril, Hilarion and Florian)
„The World is But a Broken Toy“

Princess: The world is but a broken toy,
Its pleasure hollow – false its joy,
Unreal its loveliest hue,
Alas!
Its pains alone are true,
Alas!
Its pains alone are true.

Hilarion: The world is ev‘rything you say,
The world we think has had its day.
Its merriment is slow.
Alas!
We‘ve tried it, and we know,
Alas!
We‘ve tried it and we know.

All: Unreal its loveliest hue,
Its pains alone are true,

Princess: Alas!

All: The world is but a broken toy,
Its pleasure hollow – false its joy,
Unreal its loveliest hue,
Alas!
Its pains alone are true,
Alas!
Its pains alone are true!

Florian: Unreal its loveliest hue,

3 Men: Unreal its loveliest hue,

Princess: Cyr. & Flor: A- Hilarion: Un-
Un- las! real its loveliest hue
real – – Alas! Alas!
– – – – – its loveliest hue

All: Alas!
Alas!
Its pains alone are true.

(Exit Princess. The three Gentlemen watch her off.
Lady Psyche enters, and regards them with amazement)

Hilarion: I‘faith, the plunge is taken, gentlemen!
For, willy-nilly, we are maidens now,
And maids against our will we must remain.
[All laugh heartily.]

Psyche: (Aside) These ladies are unseemly in their mirth.

(The gentlemen see her, and, in confusion, resume their
modest demeanour.)

Florian: (Aside) Here‘s a catastrophe, Hilarion!
This is my sister! She‘ll remember me,
Though years have passed since she and I have met!

Hilarion: (Aside to Florian) Then make a virtue of necessity,
And trust our secret to her gentle care.

Florian: (To Psyche, who has watched Cyril in amazement)
Psyche! Why, don‘t you know me? Florian!

Psyche: (Amazed) Why, Florian!

Florian: My sister! (Embraces her)

Psyche: Oh, my dear! What are you doing here – and who are
these?

Hilarion: I am that Prince Hilarion to whom
Your Princess is betrothed. I come to claim
Her plighted love. Your brother Florian
And Cyril came to see me safely through.

Psyche: The Prince Hilarion? Cyril too? How strange!
My earliest playfellows!

Hilarion: Why, let me look!
Are you that learned little Psyche who
At school alarmed her mates because she called
A buttercup „ranunculus bulbosus“?

Cyril: Are you indeed that Lady Psyche, who
At children‘s parties, drove the conjuror wild,
Explaining all his tricks before he did them?

Hilarion: Are you that learned little Psyche, who
At dinner parties, brought in to dessert,
Would tackle visitors with „You don‘t know
Who first determined longitude – I do –
Hipparchus ‚twas – B. C. one sixty-three!“
Are you indeed that small phenomenon?

Psyche: That small phenomenon indeed am I!
But gentlemen, ‚tis death to enter here:
We have all promised to renounce mankind!

Florian: Renounce mankind!? On what ground do you base
This senseless resolution?

Psyche: Senseless? No.
We are all taught, and, being taught, believe
That Man, sprung from an Ape, is Ape at heart.

Cyril: That‘s rather strong.

Psyche: The truth is always strong!

SONG (Lady Psyche, with Cyril, Hilarion and Florian)
„A Lady Fair, of Lineage High“

Psyche: A Lady fair, of lineage high,
Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by.
The Maid was radiant as the sun,
The Ape was a most unsightly one,
The Ape was a most unsightly one –
So it would not do –
His scheme fell through,
For the Maid, when his love took formal shape,
Express‘d such terror
At his monstrous error,
That he stammer‘d an apology and made his ‚scape,
The picture of a disconcerted Ape.

With a view to rise in the social scale,
He shaved his bristles and he docked his tail,
He grew mustachios, and he took his tub,
And he paid a guinea to a toilet club,
He paid a guinea to a toilet club –
But it would not do,
The scheme fell through –
For the Maid was Beauty‘s fairest Queen,
With golden tresses,
Like a real princess‘s,
While the Ape, despite his razor keen,
Was the apiest Ape that ever was seen!
He bought white ties, and he bought dress suits,
He crammed his feet into bright tight boots –
And to start in life on a brand-new plan,
He christen‘d himself Darwinian Man!
But it would not do,
The scheme fell through –
For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey crav‘d,
Was a radiant Being,
With brain far-seeing –
While Darwinian Man, though well-behav‘d,
At best is only a monkey shav‘d!

3 Men: For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey crav‘d,

All: Was a radiant being,
With a brain far-seeing –
While Darwinian Man, though well-behav‘d,
At best is only a monkey shav‘d!

(During this, Melissa has entered unobserved;
she looks on in amazement.)

Melissa: (Coming down) Oh, Lady Psyche!

Psyche: (Terrified) What! You heard us then?
Oh, all is lost!

Melissa: Not so! I‘ll breathe no word!
(Advancing in astonishment to Florian)
How marvelously strange! and are you then
Indeed young men?

Florian: Well, yes, just now we are –
But hope by dint of study to become,
In course of time, young women.

Melissa: (Eagerly) No, no, no –
Oh, don‘t do that! Is this indeed a man?
I‘ve often heard of them, but, till to-day,
Never set eyes on one. They told me men
Were hideous, idiotic, and deformed!
They are quite as beautiful as women are!
As beautiful, they‘re infinitely more so!
Their cheeks have not that pulpy softness which
One gets so weary of in womankind:
Their features are more marked – and – oh, their
chins!
(Feeling Florian‘s chin)
How curious!

Florian: I fear it‘s rather rough.

Melissa: (Eagerly) Oh, don‘t apologize – I like it so!

QUINTET (Psyche, Melissa, Cyril, Hilarion and Florian)
„The Woman of the Wisest Wit“

Psyche: The woman of the wisest win
May sometimes be mistaken, O!
In Ida‘s views, I must admit,
My faith is somewhat shaken O!

Cyril: On every other point than this
Her learning is untainted, O!
But Man‘s a theme with which she is
Entirely unacquainted, O!
– acquainted, O!
– acquainted, O!
Entirely unacquainted, O!

All: Then jump for joy and gaily bound,
The truth is found – the truth is found!
Set bells a-ringing through the air –
Ring here and there and ev‘rywhere –

3 Men: And echo forth the joyous sound,

All: The truth is found – the truth is found!

3 Men: And echo forth the joyous sound,

All: The truth is found – the truth is found!
And echo forth the joyous sound,
The truth is found – the truth is found!

(Dance)

Melissa: My natural instinct teaches me
(And instinct is important, O!)
You‘re ev‘rything you ought to be,
And nothing that you oughtn‘t, O!

Hilarion: That fact was seen at once by you
In casual conversation, O!
Which is most creditable to
Your powers of observation, O!
-servation, O!
-servation, O!
Your powers of observation, O!

All: Then jump for joy and gaily bound,
The truth is found, the truth is found!
Set bells a-ringing through the air,
Ring here and there and ev‘rywhere.

3 Men: And echo forth the joyous sound,

All: The truth is found – the truth is found!

3 Men: And echo forth the joyous sound,

All: The truth is found – the truth is found!
And echo forth the joyous sound,
The truth is found – the truth is found!

(Exeunt Psyche, Hilarion, Cyril and Florian,
Melissa going.)

(Enter Lady Blanche.

Blanche: Melissa!

Melissa: (Returning) Mother!

Blanche: Here – a word with you.
Those are the three new students?

Melissa: (Confused) Yes, they are.
They‘re charming girls.

Blanche: Particularly so.
So graceful, and so very womanly!
So skilled in all a girl‘s accomplishments!

Melissa: (Confused) Yes – very skilled.

Blanche: They sing so nicely too!

Melissa: They do sing nicely!

Blanche: Humph! It‘s very odd.
Two are tenors, one is a baritone!

Melissa: (Much agitated) They‘ve all got colds!

Blanche: Colds! Bah! D‘ye think I‘m blind?
These „girls“ are men disguised!

Melissa: Oh no – indeed!
You wrong these gentlemen – I mean – why, see,
Here is an etui dropped by one of them (picking up an
etui).
Containing scissors, needles, and –

Blanche: (Opening it) Cigars!
Why, these are men! And you knew this, you minx!

Melissa: Oh, spare them – they are gentlemen indeed.
The Prince Hilarion (married years ago
To Princess Ida) with two trusted friends!
Consider, mother, he‘s her husband now,
And has been, twenty years! Consider, too,
You‘re only second here – you should be first.
Assist the Prince‘s plan, and when he gains
The Princess Ida, why, you will be first.
You will design the fashions – think of that –
And always serve out all the punishments!
The scheme is harmless, mother – wink at it!

Blanche: (Aside) The prospect‘s tempting! Well, well, well,
I‘ll try –
Though I‘ve not winked at anything for years!
‚Tis but one step towards my destiny –
The mighty Must! the inevitable Shall!

DUET (Melissa and Lady Blanche)
„Now Wouldn‘t you like to Rule the Roast“

Melissa: Now wouldn‘t you like to rule the roast
And guide this University?

Blanche: I must agree,
‚Twould pleasant be,
(Sing hey, a Proper Pride!)

Melissa: And wouldn‘t you like to clear the coast,
Of malice and perversity?

Blanche: Without a doubt,
I‘ll bundle ‚em out,
(Sing hey, when I preside!)

Both: Sing hey!
Sing hoity toity! Sorry for some!
Sing marry, come up, and (my) her day will come!
Sing Proper Pride
Is the horse to ride,
And Happy-go-lucky, my Lady, O!

Blanche: For years I‘ve writhed beneath her sneers,
Although a born Plantagenet!

Melissa: You‘re much too meek,
Or you would speak
(Sing hey, I‘ll say no more!)

Blanche: Her elder I, by several years,
Although you‘d ne‘er imagine it.

Melissa: Sing, so I‘ve heard
But never a word
Have I e‘er believ‘d before!

Both: Sing hey!
Sing hoity toity! Sorry for some!
Sing marry, come up, and her (my) day will come!
Sing, she shall learn
That a worm will turn.
Sing Happy-go-lucky, my Lady, O!

(Exit Lady Blanche)

Melissa: Saved for a time, at least!

(Enter Florian, on tiptoe)

Florian: (Whispering) Melissa – come!

Melissa: Oh, sir! you must away from this at once –
My mother guessed your sex! It was my fault –
I blushed and stammered so that she exclaimed,
„Can these be men?“ Then, seeing this, „Why these – “
„Are men“, she would have added, but „are men“
Stuck in her throat! She keeps your secret, sir,
For reasons of her own – but fly from this
And take me with you – that is – no – not that!

Florian: I‘ll go, but not without you! (Bell) Why, what‘s
that?

Melissa: The luncheon bell.

Florian: I‘ll wait for luncheon then!

(Enter Hilarion with Princess, Cyril with
Psyche, Lady Blanche and ladies. Also
„Daughters of the Plough“ bearing luncheon.)

CHORUS OF GIRLS & SOLOS (Blanche and Cyril)
„Merrily Ring the Luncheon Bell“

Chorus: Merrily ring the luncheon bell!
Merrily ring the luncheon bell!
Here in meadow of asphodel,
Feast we body and mind as well,
Merrily ring the luncheon

1st Sops: 2nd Sops:
bell! – – – bell! Oh merrily
Ring – – – ring the luncheon
oh, – – bell, Oh
ring, – – – merrily, merrily, merrily,
Oh, – – merrily

Chorus: Merrily ring the luncheon bell, the luncheon bell!

Blanche: Hunger, I beg to state,
Is highly indelicate.
This is a fact profoundly true,
So learn your appetites to subdue.

All: Yes, yes,
We‘ll learn our appetites to subdue!

Cyril: Madam, your words so wise,
Nobody should despise,
Curs‘d with appetite keen I am
And I‘ll subdue it –
And I‘ll subdue it –
I‘ll subdue it with cold roast lamb!

All: Yes – yes –
We‘ll subdue it with cold roast lamb!
Merrily ring the luncheon bell!
Merrily ring the luncheon bell!
Oh

1st Sops: ring! – – – 2nd Sophs: merrily, merrily,
Oh, merrily, merrily

Chorus: Merrily ring the luncheon bell, the luncheon bell!

Princess: You say you know the court of Hildebrand?
There is a Prince there – I forget his name –

Hilarion: Hilarion?

Princess: Exactly – is he well?

Hilarion: If it be well to droop and pine and mope,
To sigh „Oh, Ida! Ida!“ all day long,
„Ida! my love! my life! Oh, come to me!“
If it be well, I say, to do all this,
Then Prince Hilarion is very well.

Princess: He breathes our name? Well, it‘s a common one!
And is the booby comely?

Hilarion: Pretty well.
I‘ve heard it said that if I dressed myself
In Prince Hilarion‘s clothes (supposing this
Consisted with my maiden modesty),
I might be taken for Hilarion‘s self.
But what is this to you or me, who think
Of all mankind with undisguised contempt?

Princess: Contempt? Why, damsel, when I think of man,
Contempt is not the word.

Cyril: (Getting tipsy) I‘m sure of that,
Or if it is, it surely should not be!

Hilarion: (Aside to Cyril) Be quiet, idiot, or they‘ll find us
out.

Cyril: The Prince Hilarion‘s a goodly lad!

Princess: You know him then?

Cyril: (Tipsily) I rather think I do!
We are inseparables!

Princess: Why, what‘s this?
You love him then?

Cyril: We do indeed – all three!

Hilarion: Madam, she jests! (Aside to Cyril) Remember where you
are!

Cyril: Jests? Not at all! Why, bless my heart alive,
You and Hilarion, when at the Court,
Rode the same horse!

Princess: (Horrified) Astride?

Cyril: Of course! Why not?
Wore the same clothes – and once or twice, I think,
Got tipsy in the same good company!

Princess: Well, these are nice young ladies, on my word!

Cyril: (Tipsy) Don‘t you remember that old kissing-song
He‘d sing to blushing Mistress Lalage,
The hostess of the Pigeons? Thus it ran:

SONG (Cyril)
„Would you know the Kind of Maid“

(During symphony Hilarion and Florian try to
stop Cyril. He shakes them off angrily.)

Cyril: Would you know the kind of maid
Sets my heart aflame-a?
Eyes must be downcast and staid,
Cheeks must flush for shame-a!
She may neither dance nor sing,
But, demure in everything,
Hang her head in modest way,
With pouting lips, with pouting lips that
seem to say,
„Oh kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die of shame-a!“
Please you, that‘s the kind of maid
Sets my heart aflame-a!
„Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die of shame-a!“
Please you, that‘s the kind of maid
Sets my heart aflame-a!

When a maid is bold and gay,
With a tongue goes clang-a,
Flaunting it in brave array,
Maiden may go hang-a
Sunflow‘r gay and holly-hock
Never shall my garden stock;
Mine the blushing rose of May,
With pouting lips, with pouting lips that
seem to say,
„Oh kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die for shame-a!“
Please you, that‘s the kind of maid
Sets my heart aflame-a!
„Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die of shame-a!“
Please you, that‘s the kind of maid
Sets my heart aflame-a!

Princess: Infamous creature, get you hence away!

(Hilarion, Who has been with difficulty restrained by
Florian during this song, breaks from him and strikes
Cyril furiously on the breast.)

Hilarion: Dog! There is something more to sing about!

Cyril: (Sobered) Hilarion, are you mad?

Princess: (Horrified) Hilarion? Help!
Why, these are men! Lost! lost! betrayed, undone!
(Running on to bridge)
Girls, get you hence! Man-monsters, if you dare
Approach one step, I – – Ah!
(Loses her balance and falls into the stream)

Psyche: Oh! Save her, sir!

Blanche: It‘s useless, sir – you‘ll only catch your death!
(Hilarion springs in.)

Sach.: He catches her!

Melissa: And now he lets her go!
Again she‘s in his grasp –

Psyche: And now she‘s not,
He seizes her back hair!

Blanche: (Not looking) And it comes off!

Psyche: No, no! She‘s saved! – she‘s saved! she‘s saved! – she‘s
saved!

FINALE, ACT II
(Princess, Hildebrand, Melissa, Lady Psyche, Blanche,
Cyril, Hilarion, Florian, Arac, Guron, Scynthius and
Chorus of Girls and Men )

„Oh Joy! our Chief is Sav‘d“

Girls: Oh joy! our chief is sav‘d
And by Hillarion‘s hand;
The torrent fierce he brav‘d,
And brought her safe to land!
For his intrusion we must own
This doughty deed may well atone!

Princess: Stand forth ye three,
Who-e‘er ye be,
And hearken to our stern decree!

Cyril, &
Florian: Have mercy, O Lady Hilarion:
Have
disregard your Mer –
oaths! cy!

Princess: I know no mercy, men in women‘s clothes!
The man whose sacrilegious eyes
Invade our strict seclusion, dies.
Arrest the coarse intruding spies!

(They are arrested by the „Daughters of the Plough“)

Girls: Have mercy, O lady – disregard your oaths.

Princess: I know not mercy, men in women‘s clothes!

(Cyril & Florian are bound)

SONG – Hilarion

Hilarion: Whom thou has chain‘d must wear his chain,
Thou canst not set him free,
He wrestles with his bonds in vain
Who lives by loving thee!
If heart of stone for heart of fire,
Be all thou hast to give,
If dead to my heart‘s desire,
Why should I wish to live?

Cyr & Flo: Have Girls: Have
mercy, O Mer-
lady! cy!

Hilarion: No word of thine – no stern command
Can teach my heart to rove,
Then rather perish by thy hand,
Than live without they love!
A loveless life apart from thee
Were hopeless slavery,
Were hopeless slavery,
If kindly death will set me free,
Why should I fear to die?

Girls: Have mercy!

Hilarion: If kindly death

Girls: Have mercy!

Hilarion: will set me free,
If kindly death will set me free,
Why should I fear,
Why should I fear to die?

(He is bound by two of the attendants, the three gentlemen are
marched off.)

(Enter Melissa)

Melissa: Madam, without the castle walls
An armed band
Demand admittance to our halls
For Hildebrand!

All: Oh, horror!

Princess: Defy them!
We will defy them!

All: Too late – too late!
The castle gate
Is battered by them!

(The gate yields. Soldiers rush in. Arac, Guron, and Scynthius are
with them, but with their hands handcuffed.

Men: Walls and fences scaling,
Promptly we appear;
Walls are unavailing,
We have enter‘d here.
Female exaceration.
Stifle if you‘re wise.
Stop your lamentations,
Dry your pretty, pretty

Girls: Rend the air with wailing. Men: eyes!
Shed the shameful tear!
Man has enter‘d here.
Walls are unavailing.

Girls: Rend the Men: Walls and
air fences
with scaling,
wail – – – Promptly we appear;
– – – – – Walls are unavailing.
ing. We have enter‘d here.
Shed Female exe-
the cration.
shame- Stifle if
ful tear! you‘re wise.
Man Stop your lament-
has ation,
en- Dry your pret-
ter‘d ty
here! eyes. O
Walls are stop your
un- lament-
a- ation,
vail- Dry your pretty pretty
ing. eyes! Female exe-
Man cration. Stifle
has if you‘re
en- wise. Stop your lament-
ter‘d ation, Dry your pretty
here! eyes.

(Enter Hildebrand)

RECITATIVE

Princess: Audacious tyrant, do you dare
To beard a maiden in her lair?

Hildebd: Since you inquire,
We‘ve no desire
To beard a maiden here, or anywhere!

Soldiers: No, no. We‘ve no desire
To beard a maiden here or anywhere!

SOLO – Hildebrand

Hildebd: Some years ago,
No doubt you know
(And if you don‘t I‘ll tell you so)
You gave your troth
Upon your oath
To Hilarion my son.
A vow you make
You must not break,
(If you think you may, it‘s a great mistake),
For a bride‘s a bride
Though the knot were tied
At the early age of one!
And I‘m a peppery kind of King,
Whose indisposed for parleying
To fit the wit of a bit of chit,
And that‘s the long and the short of it!

Soldiers: For he‘s a peppery kind of King,
Whose indisposed for parleying
To fit the wit of a bit of chit,
And that‘s the long and the short of it!

Hildebd: If you decide
To pocket your pride
And let Hilarion claim his bride,
Why, well and good,
It‘s understood
We‘ll let bygones go by –
But if you choose
To sulk in the blues
I‘ll make the whole of you shake in your shoes.
I‘ll storm your walls,
And level your halls,
In the winking of an eye!
For I‘m a peppery Potentate,
Who‘s little inclined his claim to bate,
To fit the wit of a bit of a chit,
And thats the long and the short of it!

Soldiers: For he‘s a peppery Potentate,
Whose indisposed for parleying,
To fit the wit of a bit of chit,
And that‘s the long and the short of it!

TRIO – Arac, Guron & Scynthius

All 3: We may remark, though nothing can
Dismay us,
That if you thwart this gentleman,
He‘ll slay us.
We don‘t fear death, of course – we‘re taught
To shame it;
But still upon the whole we thought
We‘d name it.
(To each other)
Scynthius: Yes!

Guron: Yes!

Arac: Yes!

All 3: Better p‘r‘aps to name it.

Our interests we would not press
With chatter,
Three hulking brothers more or less
Don‘t matter;
If you‘d pooh-pooh this monarch‘s plan
Pooh-pooh it,
But when he says he‘ll hang a man,
He‘ll do it.
(To each other)
Scynthius: Yes!

Guron: Yes!

Arac: Yes!

All 3: Devil doubt he‘ll do it.

Princess: Be reassured, nor fear his anger blind,
His menaces are idle as the wind.
He dares not kill you – vengeance lurks behind!

3 Knights: We rather think he dares, but never mind!

Hildebd: I 3 Knights:
rather No!
think I No!
dare, but No!
never, never mind! never never mind!
Enough of
No,
parley no,
never nev-
as a er
spe- mind!
cial
No!
boon. no! never, never mind!
We give you till tomorrow
afternoon;

Hildebd: Release Hilarion, then,
And be his bride
Or you‘ll incur the guilt of fratricide!

Princess: To yield at once to such a foe
With shame we‘re rife;
So quick! away with him, although
He sav‘d my life!
That he is fair, and strong, and tall
Is very evident to all,
Yet I will die,
Yet I will die, before I call myself his

Princess: All Others:
wife! – – Oh, yield at once, ‚twere better so,
– – – Than risk a strife!
And let the Prince Hilarion go.
He Saved thy life!
That Hi-
he is la-rion‘s
fair and fair,
strong and and
tall, strong and tall,
tall,
Is – – – – – – A
very worse mis-
evi- for-
dent to tune
all, might befall.
Yet
I will It‘s
die, will die before I call not so dreadful after all,
Myself his wife! To be his wife!
Though I am but a girl
Defiance thus I hurl
Our banners all
On outer wall
We fearlessly unfurl

(The Princess stands, surrounded by girls kneeling. Hildebrand and
soldiers stand on built rocks at back and sides of stage.
Picture.)

END OF ACT II

ACT III

SCENE – Outer Walls and Courtyard of Castle Adamant. Melissa,
SachaRissa, and ladies discovered, armed with
battleaxes.

CHORUS
„Death to the Invader!“

Chorus: Death to the invader!
Strike a deadly blow,
As an old Crusader
Struck his Paynim foe!
Let our martial thunder
Fill his soul with wonder,
Tear his ranks asunder,
Lay the tyrant low!
Death to the invader!
Strike a deadly blow,
As an old Crusader
Struck his Paynim foe!

Melissa: Thus our courage, all untarnish‘d,
We‘re instructed to display;
But to tell the truth unvarnish‘d,
We are more inclined to say,
„Please you, do not hurt us,“

All: „Do not hurt us, if it please you!“

Melissa: „Please you let us be.“

All: „Let us be – let us be!“

Melissa: „Soldiers disconcert us.“

All: „Disconcert us, if it please you!“

Melissa: „Frighten‘d maids are we!“

All: „Maids are we, maids are we!“

Melissa: Please you,

All: Do not hurt us;

Melissa: Please you,

All: Let us be.

Mel & Cho: Frighten‘d maids are we, frighten‘d maids are we!

Melissa: But ‚twould be an error
To confess our terror,
So in Ida‘s name,
Boldly we exclaim:

Mel & Cho: Death to the invader!
Strike a deadly blow,
As an old Crusader
Struck his Paynim foe!

(Flourish. Enter Princess, armed, attended by Blanche and Psyche.)

Princess: I like your spirit, girls! We have to meet
Stern bearded warriors in fight to-day;
Wear naught but what is necessary to
Preserve your dignity before their eyes,
And give your limbs full play.

Blanche: One moment, ma‘am,
Here is a paradox we should not pass
Without inquiry. We are prone to say
„This thing is Needful – that, Superfluous“ –
Yet they invariably co-exist!
We find the Needful comprehended in
The circle of the grand Superfluous,
Yet the Superfluous cannot be brought
Unless you‘re amply furnished with the Needful.
These singular considerations are –

Princess: Superfluous, yet not Needful – so you see
The terms may independently exist.
(To Ladies) Women of Adamant, we have to show
That women, educated to the task,
Can meet Man, face to face, on his own ground,
And beat him there. Now, let us set to work;
Where is our lady surgeon?

Sach.: Madam, here!

Princess: We shall require your skill to heal the wounds
Of those that fall.

Sach.: (Alarmed) What, heal the wounded?

Princess: Yes!

Sach.: And cut off real live legs and arms?

Princess: Of course!

Sach.: I wouldn‘t do it for a thousand pounds!

Princess: Why, how is this? Are you faint-hearted, girl?
You‘ve often cut them off in theory!

Sach.: In theory I‘ll cut them off again
With pleasure, and as often as you like,
But not in practice.

Princess: Coward! Get you hence,
I‘ve craft enough for that, and courage too,
I‘ll do your work! My fusiliers, advance!,
Why, you are armed with axes! Gilded toys!
Where are your rifles, pray?

Chloe: Why, please you, ma‘am,
We left them in the armoury, for fear
That in the heat and turmoil of the fight,
They might go off!

Princess: „They might!“ Oh, craven souls!
Go off yourselves! Thank heaven I have a heart
That quails not at the thought of meeting men;
I will discharge your rifles! Off with you!
(Exit Chloe)
Where‘s my bandmistress?

Ada: Please you, ma‘am, the band
Do not feel well, and can‘t come out today!

Princess: Why, this is flat rebellion! I‘ve no time
To talk to them just now. But, happily,
I can play several instruments at once,
And I will drown the shrieks of those that fall
With trumpet music, such as soldiers love!
How stand we with respect to gunpowder?
My Lady Psyche – you who superintend
Our lab‘ratory – are you well prepared
To blow these bearded rascals into shreds?

Psyche: Why, madam –

Princess: Well?

Psyche: Let us try gentler means.
We can dispense with fulminating grains
While we have eyes with which to flash our rage!
We can dispense with villainous saltpetre
While we have tongues with which to blow them up!
We can dispense, in short, with all the arts
That brutalize the practical polemist!

Princess: (Contemptuously) I never knew a more dispensing
chemist!
Away, away – I‘ll meet these men alone
Since all my women have deserted me!

(Exeunt all but Princess, singing refrain of
„Please you, do not hurt us“, pianissimo.)

Princess: So fail my cherished plans – so fails my faith –
And with it hope, and all that comes of hope!

Song – Princess
„I Built upon a Rock“

Princess: I built upon a rock,
But ere Destruction‘s hand
Dealt equal lot
To Court and cot,
My rock had turn‘d to sand!
I leant upon an oak,
But in the hour of need,
Alack-a-day,
My trusted stay
Was but a bruis-ed reed!
A bruis-ed reed!
Ah faithless rock,
My simple faith to mock!
Ah trait‘rous oak,
Thy worthlessness to cloak,
Thy worthlessness to cloak!

I drew a sword of steel
But when to home and hearth
The battle‘s breath
Bore fire and death,
My sword was but a lath!
I lit a beacon fire,
But on a stormy day
Of frost and rime,
In wintertime,
My fire had died away,
Had died away!
Ah, coward steel,
That fear can un-anneal!
False fire indeed,
To fail me in my need,
To fail me in my need!

(Princess Sinks upon a rock. Enter Chloe and all the Ladies)

Chloe: Madam, your father and your brothers claim
An audience!

Princess: What do they do here?

Chloe: They come
To fight for you!

Princess: Admit them!

Blanche: Infamous!
One‘s brothers, ma‘am, are men!

Princess: So I have heard.
But all my women seem to fail me when
I need them most. In this emergency,
Even one‘s brothers may be turned to use.

Gama: (Entering, pale and unnerved) My daughter!

Princess: Father! Thou art free!

Gama: Aye, free!
Free as a tethered ass! I come to thee
With words from Hildebrand. Those duly given
I must return to blank captivity.
I‘m free so far.

Princess: Your message.

Gama: Hildebrand
Is loth to war with women. Pit my sons,
My three brave sons, against these popinjays,
These tufted jack-a-dandy featherheads,
And on the issue let thy hand depend!

Princess: Insult on insult‘s head! Are we a stake
For fighting men? What fiend possesses thee,
That thou has come with offers such as these
From such as he to such an one as I?

Gama: I am possessed
By the pale devil of a shaking heart!
My stubborn will is bent. I dare not face
That devilish monarch‘s black malignity!
He tortures me with torments worse than death,
I haven‘t anything to grumble at!
He finds out what particular meats I love,
And gives me them. The very choicest wines,
The costliest robes – the richest rooms are mine.
He suffers none to thwart my simplest plan,
And gives strict orders none should contradict me!
He‘s made my life a curse! (Weeps)

Princess: My tortured father!

SONG (King GAMA with CHORUS of GIRLS)
„Whene‘er I Spoke“

Gama: Whene‘er I poke
Sarcastic joke
Replete with malice spiteful,
This people mild
Politely smil‘d,
And voted me delightful!

Now, when a wight
Sits up all night
Ill-natur‘d jokes devising,
And all his wiles
Are met with smiles
It‘s hard, there‘s no disguising!

Ah! Oh, don‘t the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
And isn‘t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

Chorus: Oh, isn‘t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

Gama: When German bands
From music stands
Play‘d Wagner imperfectly –
I bade them go –
They didn‘t say no,
But off they went directly!
The organ boys
They stopp‘d their noise,
With readiness surprising,
And grinning herds
Of hurdy-gurds
Retired apologising!
Ah! Oh, don‘t the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
And isn‘t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

Chorus: Oh, isn‘t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

Gama: I offer‘d gold
In sums untold
To all who‘d contradict me –
I said I‘d pay
A pound a day
To any one who kick‘d me –
I‘ve brib‘d with toys
Great vulgar boys
To utter something spiteful,
But, bless you, no!
They would be so
Confoundedly politeful!

Ah! In short, these aggravating lads,
They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads,
They give me this and they give me that,
And I‘ve nothing whatever to grumble at!

Chorus: Oh, isn‘t your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

(Gama Bursts into tears and falls sobbing on a seat.)

Princess: My poor old father! How he must have suffered!
Well, well, I yield!

Gama: (Hysterically) She yields! I‘m saved, I‘m saved! (Exit)

Princess: Open the gates – admit these warriors,
Then get you all within the castle walls. (Exit)

(The gates are opened and the Girls mount the battlements as the
Soldiers enter. Arac, Guron and Scynthius also enter.)

Chorus of Soldiers
„When anger spreads his wing“

Chorus: When anger spread his wing,
And all seems dark as night for it,
There‘s nothing but to fight for it,
But ere you pitch your ring,
Select a pretty site for it,
(This spot is suited quite for it,)
And then you gaily sing,
And then you gaily sing:

„Oh I love the jolly rattle
Of an orde-al by battle,
There‘s an end of tittle-tattle
When your enemy is dead.
It‘s an arrant molly-coddle
Fears a crack upon his noddle
And he‘s only fit to swaddle
In a downy feather-bed!

Ladies: For a Soldiers: Oh, I
fight‘s love the
a jolly
kind rattle
of Of an
thing orde-al by battle
That I There‘s an
love end of
to tittle
look tattle,
up- When your
on, enemy is dead.
So It‘s an
let arrant
us molly-
sing, coddle
Long Fears a
live crack upon
the his
King, noddle,
And his And he‘s
son only fit to
Hi- swaddle, In a
la- downy fea-
ri-on! ther bed!

(During this, Hilarion, Florian, and Cyril are
brought out by the „Daughters of the Plough“.
They are still bound and wear the robes.
Enter GAMA.)

Gama: Hilarion! Cyril! Florian! dressed as women!
Is this indeed Hilarion?

Hilar.: Yes, it is!

Gama: Why, you look handsome in your women‘s clothes!
Stick to ‚em! Men‘s attire becomes you not!
(To CYRIL and FLORIAN) And you, young ladies, will you please to pray
King Hildebrand to set me free again?
Hang on his neck and gaze into his eyes,
He never could resist a pretty face!

Hilar.: You dog, you‘ll find, though I wear woman‘s garb,
My sword is long and sharp!

Gama: Hush, pretty one!
Here‘s a virago! Here‘s a termagant!
If length and sharpness go for anything,
You‘ll want no sword while you can wag your tongue!

Cyril: What need to waste your words on such as he?
He‘s old and crippled.

Gama: Aye, but I‘ve three sons,
Fine fellows, young and muscular, and brave,
They‘re well worth talking to! Come, what d‘ye say?

Arac: Aye, pretty ones, engage yourselves with us,
If three rude warriors affright you not!

Hilar.: Old as you are, I‘d wring your shrivelled neck
If you were not the Princess Ida‘s father.

Gama: If I were not the Princess Ida‘s father,
And so had not her brothers for my sons,
No doubt you‘d wring my neck – in safety too!
Come, come, Hilarion, begin, begin!
Give them no quarter – they will give you none.
You‘ve this advantage over warriors
Who kill their country‘s enemies for pay, –
You know what you are fighting for – look there!
(Pointing to Ladies on the battlements)

(Exit Gamma. Hilarion, Florian, and Cyril are led off.)

SONG (Arac, Guron, Scynthius and Chorus)
„This Helmet, I Suppose“

Arac: This helmet, I suppose,
Was meant to ward off blows,
It‘s very hot
And weighs a lot,
As many a guardsman knows,
As many a guardsman knows,
As many a guardsman knows,
As many a guardsman knows,
So off, so off that helmet goes.

Others: Yes, yes, yes,
So off that helmet goes!

(Giving their helmets to attendants)

Arac: This tight-fitting cuirass
Is but a useless mass,
It‘s made of steel,
And weighs a deal,
This tight-fitting cuirass
Is but a useless mass,
A man is but an ass
Who fights in a cuirass,
So off, so off goes that cuirass.

Others: Yes, yes, yes,
So off goes that cuirass!
(Removing cuirasses)

Arac: These brassets, truth to tell,
May look uncommon well,
But in a fight
They‘re much too tight,
They‘re like a lobster shell,
They‘re like a lobster shell!

Others: Yes, yes, yes,
They‘re like a lobster shell.
(Removing their brassets)

Arac: These things I treat the same
(indicating leg pieces)
(I quite forget their name.)
They turn one‘s legs
To cribbage pegs –
Their aid I thus disclaim,
Their aid I thus disclaim,
Though I forget their name,
Though I forget their name,
Their aid, their aid I thus disclaim!

Others: Yes, yes, yes,
All: Their aid (we/they) thus disclaim!

(They remove their leg pieces and wear close-fitting shape suits.)

Enter Hilarion, Florian, and Cyril

(Desperate fight between the three Princes and the three
Knights, during which the Ladies on the battlements and
the Soldiers on the stage sing the following chorus):

CHORUS DURING THE FIGHT
„This is our Duty“

Chorus: This is our duty plain towards
Our Princess all immaculate,
We ought to bless her brothers‘ swords,
And piously ejaculate:
Oh, Hungary!
Oh, Hungary!
Oh, doughty sons of Hungary!
May all success
Attend and bless
Your warlike ironmongery!

Hilarion! Hilarion! Hilarion!

(By this time, Arac, Guron, and Scynthius are
on the ground, wounded – Hilarion, Cyril and
Florian stand over them.)

Princess: (Entering through gate and followed by Ladies,
Hildebrand, and Gama.)
Hold! stay your hands! – we yield ourselves to you!
Ladies, my brothers all lie bleeding there!
Bind up their wounds – but look the other way.
(Coming down) Is this the end? (Bitterly to Lady
Blanche)
How say you, Lady Blanche –
Can I with dignity my post resign?
And if I do, will you then take my place?

Blanche: To answer this, it‘s meet that we consult
The great Potential Mysteries; I mean
The five Subjunctive Possibilities –
The May, the Might, the Would, the Could, the Should.
Can you resign? The Prince May claim you; if
He Might, you Could – and if you Should, I Would!

Princess: I thought as much! Then to my fate I yield –
So ends my cherished scheme! Oh, I had hoped
To band all women with my maiden throng,
And make them all abjure tyrannic Man!

Hildebd: A noble aim!

Princess: You ridicule it now;
But if I carried out this glorious scheme,
At my exalted name Posterity
Would bow in gratitude!

Hildebd: But pray reflect –
If you enlist all women in your cause,
And make them all abjure tyrannic Man,
The obvious question then arises, „How
Is this Posterity to be provided?“

Princess: I never thought of that! My Lady Blanche,
How do you solve the riddle?

Blanche: Don‘t ask me –
Abstract Philosophy won‘t answer it.
Take him – he is your Shall. Give in to Fate!

Princess: And you desert me. I alone am staunch!

Hilarion: Madam, you placed your trust in Woman – well,
Woman has failed you utterly – try Man,
Give him one chance, it‘s only fair – besides,
Women are far too precious, too divine,
To try unproven theories upon.
Experiments, the proverb says, are made
On humble subjects – try our grosser clay,
And mould it as you will!

Cyril: Remember, too
Dear Madam, if at any time you feel
A-weary of the Prince, you can return
To Castle Adamant, and rule your girls
As heretofore, you know.

Princess: And shall I find
The Lady Psyche here?

Psyche: If Cyril, ma‘am,
Does not behave himself, I think you will.

Princess: And you Melissa, shall I find you here?

Melissa: Madam, however Florian turns out,
Unhesitatingly I answer, No!

Gama: Consider this, my love, if your mama
Had looked on matters from your point of view
(I wish she had), why where would you have been?

Blanche: There‘s an unbounded field of speculation,
On which I could discourse for hours!

Princess: No doubt!
We will not trouble you. Hilarion,
I have been wrong – I see my error now.
Take me, Hilarion – „We will walk this world
Yoked in all exercise of noble end!
And so through those dark gates across the wild
That no one knows!“ Indeed, I love thee – Come!

Finale
„With joy abiding“

Princess: With joy abiding,
Together gliding
Through life‘s variety,
In sweet society,
And thus enthroning
The love I‘m owning,
On this atoning
I will rely!

Chorus: It were profanity
For poor humanity
To treat as vanity
The sway of Love.
In no locality
Or principality
Is our mortality
It‘s sway above!

Hilarion: When day is fading,
With serenading
And such frivolity
Of tender quality –
With scented showers
Of fairest flowers,
The happy hours
Will gaily fly!
The happy hours will gaily fly!

Chorus: It were profanity
For poor humanity
To treat as vanity
The sway of Love.
In no locality
Or principality
Is our mortality
It‘s sway above!

1st Sops: In no lo- Others:
cality Or princi- Its
pality Is our mor- sway
tality It‘s sway a- a-
bove! bove!

Princess & With scented Others:
Hilarion: showers Of fairest Its
flowers, The happy sway
hours will gaily a-
fly! bove!

All: In no locality
Or principality
Is our mortality
Above the sway of love!

Curtain

Zur Übersicht zurück

The Rose of Persia

or: the Story-Teller and the Slave

A Comic Opera in Two Acts
written by Basil Hood
music by Arthur Sullivan

Dramatis Personae:

The Sultan Mahmoud of Persia
Hassan (a philanthropist)
Yussuf (a professional story-teller)
Abdallah (a priest)
The Grand Vizier
The Physician-in-Chief
The Royal Executioner
Soldier of the Guard
The Sultana Zubeydeh (named „Rose-in-Bloom“)
The Sultana‘s favourite slaves:
„Scent-of-Lilies“
„Heart‘s Desire“
„Honey-of-Life“
„Dancing Sunbeam“ (Hassan‘s first wife)
„Blush-of-Morning“ (his twenty-fifth wife)
Wives of Hassan:
„Oasis-in-the-Desert“
„Moon-Upon-the-Waters“
þSong-of-Nightingales“
„Whisper-of-the-West-Wind“

Chorus (Act I). – Hassan‘s Wives, Mendicants, and Sultan‘s Guards.
(Act II.) – Royal Slave Girls, Palace Officials, and Guards.

ACT I – Court of Hassan‘s House.
ACT II – Audience Hall of the Sultan‘s Palace.

ACT I

SCENE. – Court of HASSAN‘s house. Entrance to house on Left. At
back and on Right view of streets.

HASSAN is seated contemplating the view over the city. He is
surrounded by his wives, who are lying on divans. It is a
beautiful moonlit night.

CHORUS of WIVES.

As we lie in languor lazy,
Lounging on a low divan,
Flood of interesting chatter
Flows behind each dainty fan:
„Is our husband going crazy?
Neighbours call him Mad Hassan!“
Not an unimportant matter
For the wives of any man!
(addressing HASSAN.) Hassan! Hassan! Hassan!
Inform us if you can!
Irresponsible and hazy,
Unconventional and mazy
Seem your actions – are you crazy?
Are you crazy, O Hassan?

HASSAN turns round on his seat, and faces the audience.

SONG. – HASSAN.

I‘m Abu‘l Hassan;
I‘m neither sick nor sad:
A most contented man,
Though foolish persons think me mad!
The laziest of lives
I live in peace and plenty,
Surrounded by my wives
Who number only five-and-twenty!
You‘ll find that five-and-twenty
Are practically plenty,
If you‘ve a craze
To make your days
A dolce far niente!
Another wife
Might spoil my life,
Because you see
(‚Twixt you and me),
She might have tricks
That would not mix
With dolce far niente!
CHORUS (to one another). Another wife, etc.

HASSAN. It may occur to you
That only twenty-five
Are singularly few – To that, of course, I‘m quite alive!
My wealth is so immense
Their number I could double;
I do not fear expense
So much, you see, as extra trouble!
I smoke my hubble-bubble,
And calculate the trouble;
The trouble I‘ve
With twenty-five
Twice twenty-five would double!
A simple thumb
And finger sum – It‘s rule of three
It seems to me;
Our Arabic
Arithmetic
Would prove the trouble double!
CHORUS (to one another). A simple thumb, etc.

HASSAN. O Moon-upon-the-Waters!
MOON. I am here, O husband! (Advances to him.)
HASSAN. O Song-of-Nightingales!
SONG. I am here, O husband! (Advances to him.)
HASSAN. O Whisper-of-the-West-Wind!
WHISPER. I am here, O husband! (Advances to him.)
HASSAN. O Blush-of-Morning!

BLUSH-OF-MORNING enters from house.

BLUSH. I am here, O husband! (Advances to him.)
HASSAN (counting girls). Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-
five, O Dancing Sunbeam!
BLUSH. She is not here, O husband!
HASSAN. Not here? Twenty-four, twenty-five – do you mean that
Dancing Sunbeam is twenty-six?
BLUSH. She says so, O husband. I say she is forty, if she is
an hour.
HASSAN. Twenty-six! Dear me! Who was the last lady I married?
OASIS. I was the last, Oasis-in-the-Desert.
HASSAN. I fear you will have to be divorced, Oasis. I had no
idea you made twenty-six. It was careless of me to have
married you; but there it is. (Kindly.) You can have a
month‘s notice.
OASIS. I hear you and obey.
HASSAN. Nice girl. Where is Dancing Sunbeam?

Enter DANCING SUNBEAM.

SUNBEAM. I am here, O husband.
HASSAN. Ah! Is it you, O Dancing Sunbeam, who have told these
girls that I am crazy?
SUNBEAM. Even so.
HASSAN. The odds were even so. (To DANCING SUNBEAM.) Will you
tell me what reason you have found for thinking that I
have lost mine?
SUNBEAM. O husband, you are indifferent to other people. For
when I nag at you by the hour – and I can nag – you
take no notice; but sit and smile and babble to
yourself that you hear soft music in the air – BLUSH. How do you manage that if you are not mad?
HASSAN. Hush! That is a secret! Go on.
SUNBEAM. Secondly, O husband – HASSAN. Don‘t say „O husband“ every time. I shan‘t forget that
I am married.
SUNBEAM. Secondly, O foolish one, you are different from other
people. For though you are naturally vulgar and
unnaturally rich, you do not try to push your way into
the best society.
HASSAN. No. I prefer the worst. I am a rich man, and try to be
charitable, but I prefer the society of beggars to the
beggars of society.
SUNBEAM. But when I married your money I meant to be in the best
society, one day.
HASSAN. We were in it one day. One day was enough for me.
SUNBEAM. The ball was at our feet. I shall never forget that!
HASSAN. The ball was at our house. I shall never forget that!
Upper classes? I know ‚em, however much they pretend
not to know me. They took everything I gave them, and
when there was nothing else for them to take, they took
me for one of the waiters! No. The friendship of
fashionable persons is the one thing you will have to
do without – you can have everything else money can
buy, except that. I have spoken.

Exit HASSAN.

SUNBEAM. The day I married that man I married an idiot!

Exit DANCING SUNBEAM.

BLUSH. Yes, whatever he is now, on that day he cannot have
been quite clear in his mind.

Enter ABDALLAH.

ABDALLAH. Peace be upon this house!
GIRLS. And on you Peace!
ABDALLAH. Where is your eccentric husband?
BLUSH. O Priest, he has just left us.
ABDALLAH. Has he gone out to the streets to gather his crowd of
beggars – the tagrag and bobtail of the city – of
whom he nightly makes his boon companions?
BLUSH. Not yet. He has but gone into the house to fetch his hat.
ABDALLAH. Go and send him to me.
BLUSH. To hear is to obey.

Exit BLUSH-OF-MORNING.

ABDALLAH. It is unseemly that he should consort each night with
tagrag and bobtail – it is more unseemly that his
women-folk should be unveiled – it is most unseemly
that his contempt for my daily exhortations should be
unveiled. He is a doubting follower of the Faith, but
Islam hath power of chastisement over her children!

SONG. – ABDALLAH and CHORUS of WIVES.

When Islam first arose,
A tower upon a rock,
Beneath her haughty battlements
Were ranged around the jealous tents
Of swift-encircling foes!
Then all her gates did Islam lock,
As every Muslim knows;
And through those gates of Right and Wrong
No traitor comes or goes!
For Islam‘s gates are strong against a friend or foe;
Her gates of Right and Wrong none passeth to and fro;
For foes are they without and friends are they within;
The postern-gate‘s the Gate of Doubt, that
leads to the Camp of Sin!

Whoever opens wide
The postern-gate of Doubt,
Doth prove to Islam‘s garrison
That in their very midst is one
Who loves the other side!
His heart is with his foes without,
And Islam, in her pride,
Dost send him from her battlements,
The road that traitors ride!
For Islam‘s gates are strong against a friend or foe;
Her gates of Right and Wrong none passeth to and fro;
ALL. For foes are they without and friends are they within;
The postern-gate‘s the Gate of Doubt, that
leads to the Camp of Sin!

Exeunt CHORUS. Enter HASSAN.

HASSAN. Peace be on you!
ABDALLAH. And on you Peace! I am here to threaten you with chastisement.
HASSAN. Won‘t you sit down? (Going to exit.)
ABDALLAH. You are going out? (Detaining him.)
HASSAN. Yes. But you needn‘t.

Enter DANCING SUNBEAM.

ABDALLAH. You are going to collect beggars and cripples and
worthless characters, and make night hideous with the
riff-raff of the town. Therefore you are either mad or bad.
SUNBEAM. Both.
ABDALLAH. I am empowered by my office to say that you are
possessed of an evil spirit. And I will recite to you a
rhyming recipe for the casting out of devils, written
by the most eminent Poet-Priest in Persia – myself.
HASSAN. Don‘t trouble.
ABDALLAH. It is a pleasure. Listen.
A man is mad – some spirit bad has probably possessed him;
And we proceed at once to bleed him – after we have blessed him;
When he‘s so weak he cannot speak – our efforts do not falter;
We tie his hands with leather bands, and hang him on a halter;
When he almost gives up the ghost, we cut him down and kick him.
HASSAN. What for?
ABDALLAH. To drive out the evil spirits. (Continuing.)
And afterwards with knives and swords we lacerate and prick him;
And then, to make that spirit vile dislike its human
domicile, and deem possession not worth while – With towels wet we flick him!
HASSAN. Thank you!
SUNBEAM. And you intend to apply that prescription to him?
ABDALLAH. At once. (To DANCING SUNBEAM.) If you will provide me
with a few strong cords, swords, whips, and perhaps a
pitchfork, I will give him the first dose without delay.
SUNBEAM. With joy and alacrity.

Exit DANCING SUNBEAM.

HASSAN. A good, kind creature! (To ABDALLAH.) Will you excuse
me if I make my will? (Drawing parchment and pen from pocket.)
ABDALLAH. It would not be worth the parchment you write it on.
You are mad.
HASSAN. Ah! My will would only be valid providing I am perfectly sane?
ABDALLAH. Yes.
HASSAN. The reason I ask is, that I intended making a will
absolutely in your favour. Now, you see, if I am mad,
such a will would mean nothing; but if it means
anything, it means that you inherit my fortune, and
that I am perfectly sane. As an expert, which would you
say I am – mad or sane?
ABDALLAH. My son, such a deed as you propose would prove
conclusively that evil spirits have left you – and I
would leave you in possession of as good spirits as my own.
HASSAN. Then that‘s settled. Go in peace.
ABDALLAH. I will tarry a little until the will is written in case
the evil spirits return to you.
HASSAN. Oh, very well. (Commencing to write.) You are not
afraid of my making another will revoking this?
ABDALLAH. No. For the laws of the Medes and the Persians is
unalterable, and therefore as a Persian will is a
Persian legal document, it cannot be altered.
HASSAN. I never thought of that.
ABDALLAH. I did. (HASSAN continues to write. Drums heard in the
distance.) Hark! The royal drums! The Sultan has
returned two days before he was expected.
HASSAN. Oh! I take no interest in court and society.
ABDALLAH. Yet the Sultan takes an interest in you; for the other
day I complained to him of you and your evil life.
HASSAN. Oh, did you? Now look here, it is understood between us
that when I have signed this, my evil life, as you call
it, is nothing to anybody; it is a thing of the past – wiped out, eh?
ABDALLAH. Yes. When you have signed that, you can count your evil
life as a thing of the past.

Enter BLUSH-OF-MORNING, carrying ropes, swords, etc.

HASSAN. There! (Handing document.)
BLUSH. Oh, if you please, Dancing Sunbeam says are these what
you require for casting out the evil spirit, and she is
borrowing a chopper and a garden roller from next door.
HASSAN. We don‘t require them now, thank you. (Enter DANCING
SUNBEAM.) I‘m cured.
SUNBEAM. Cured? How was the cure effected?
HASSAN. By will power.

Exit HASSAN.

BLUSH (to ABDALLAH). You must be in possession of a
remarkable will.
ABDALLAH. I am. (Pocketing will.)
SUNBEAM. Hearken, Abdallah! The cure is not complete. Let our
husband have this treatment; even if he succumb to it.
We understand each other?
ABDALLAH. I think there is a chance of his perishing suddenly in
a few hours.
BLUSH. Oh, dear!
SUNBEAM. Tush, girl! If misfortune take him, we shall take his
fortune. Our cloud would have a golden lining. I am
like Bluebeard‘s little Fatima. Social position is the
one door closed against me; but some day I mean to open
it, cost what it may!

SONG. – DANCING SUNBEAM.

Oh, Life has put into my hand
His Bunch of Keys,
And said, „With these
Do aught you please!
But one door only, understand,
Is not for thee – Societee!
The Key of Gold will open wide that door-way;
But recollect that one way is not your way!“
So like a Peri at the gate
Of Fashion-land
I have to stand – The sport of tantalizing Fate!

O Golden Key
That openest every door-way!
How glad my song of life would be
Could I make use of thee,
O Golden Key!
How changed my life and song!

RECITATIVE.

BLUSH. Sunbeam! the Priest keeps saying, sotto voce,
„You‘ll soon be widows – five-and-twenty widows!“
I find his conversation most depressing!
SUNBEAM. Depressing? Nonsense!
ABDALLAH. Five-and-twenty widows!
Unhappy lot!
SUNBEAM. A lot – but not unhappy!

TRIO. – BLUSH-OF-MORNING, DANCING SUNBEAM, and ABDALLAH.

ABDALLAH. If a sudden stroke of Fate
Your Hassan eliminate – BLUSH. I shall sit and sob and sigh,
„Woe is me, a widow I!“
SUNBEAM. But you‘ll gradually grow
Quite accustomed to the blow!
ALL. Time will soften every blow – That‘s a cheerful thing to know!
ABDALLAH. Nature needs (and gets) variety!
SUNBEAM. Nature pleads for bright Society!
BLUSH. Widow‘s weeds may choke Felicity – ALL. Time and his sickle the weeds may prune!
ABDALLAH. Longest lane will turn to happiness!
SUNBEAM. Why complain of widow‘s-cappiness?
BLUSH. Steps regain their elasticity – Time is a lover of happy tune!
ALL. Time will soften every blow:
That‘s a useful thing to know!

DANCE.

Exeunt BLUSH-OF-MORNING and DANCING SUNBEAM to house, ABDALLAH to
street.

Enter YUSSUF.

YUSSUF. Hassan! Ho, Hassan! Hassan, I say!

Enter HEART‘S DESIRE.

DESIRE. Sir, do not call so loudly! The Royal Guard might hear
you and – YUSSUF. Follow you? They would be more clever than I, for I
cannot follow you, in your fear of them. But you and
your friends can stay here in safety.
DESIRE. Do you know the Lord of this house?
YUSSUF. By hearsay. Everyone has heard of „Mad Hassan.“
DESIRE. Oh, is he a mad gentleman?
YUSSUF. Nay, except that he keeps open house for all and any,
and thus his charity begins at home and will end in the
workhouse.
DESIRE. I will call my friends. (Signals with her veil.) Oh,
sir, it is kind of you to have interested yourself in a
poor party of dancing and singing girls.
YUSSUF. It is in one only that I take an interest, and I shall
take it wherever I go!
DESIRE. Sir, I am a perfect stranger to you.
YUSSUF. Perfect you are indeed, but why should you be a
stranger? Tell me your name, and whence you come and
whither you go – (putting arm round waist) – and why
you were frightened by meeting the Sultan and his
guards?
DESIRE. Do not press me, as you are a gentleman.
YUSSUF. But I am not. I am a poor devil of a Professional Tale-
Teller, who makes a sorry living out of telling funny
stories – and here I think I have found one in real
life!
DESIRE. I do not judge gentlemen by their coats.
YUSSUF. Nor do I judge all dancing girls by their petticoats,
or I should deem you and your companions as bold as
brass – as such girls are – while, look! your three
friends are creeping hither one by one, as timid as
fawns crossing a glade. You are no professional
dancers!
DESIRE. You mistake, sir! We are indeed all as bold as – as – -

Enter HONEY-OF-LIFE, nervously.

YUSSUF. As one another?
HONEY. Is it safe to hide here?
DESIRE. Hush! Why, what is there to be afraid of?
HONEY. I like that! You have led us into this, perhaps you
will lead us out!

Enter SCENT-OF-LILIES. Drums heard.

SCENT. Hark! That is how the drums roll when they execute
anybody – just like that.
DESIRE. Hush! What are you afraid of?
SCENT. Of being executed, of course.

Enter ROSE-IN-BLOOM. She runs to HEART‘S DESIRE and throws
herself into her arms.

ROSE. Oh, Heart‘s Desire!
YUSSUF (aside). „Heart‘s Desire!“
ROSE. I trust myself to you!
DESIRE (aside). Be brave, royal mistress; all will be well.
(To YUSSUF.) Good night, sir. We will claim this
Hassan‘s hospitality for a little. Leave us – forget
us – ask no more questions.
YUSSUF. I need ask no questions, for I know your name, Heart‘s
Desire, and I can guess whence you come and whither you
go – the Sultan‘s palace. You are a party of royal
slaves.
ROSE. A slave – I!
HONEY. Did she tell you that?
SCENT. How did you guess that?
DESIRE. Yes; how did you make such a silly guess as that?
YUSSUF. Fear not. I do not tell tales out of school. (Looks
earnestly at HEART‘S DESIRE, who returns the look.)
DESIRE. I thank you with all my heart.
YUSSUF. All thy heart would be a greater gift than I could ever
deserve. Yet some day I may ask for it. (Goes to exit,
and then turns before leaving.) Do not fear. The Sultan
and his guard will not return to the palace yet awhile.
I know their ways. And when they have gone their ways I
will return and tell you. Peace be on you!

Exit YUSSUF.

DESIRE. And on you Peace! (Stands watching him off.)
SCENT. He is going to betray us. I am sure of it.
DESIRE. Oh, no!
ROSE (to HEART‘S DESIRE). Run after him and watch!
DESIRE. Let me wait here, Rose-in-Bloom. When the coast is
clear he will return.
SCENT. Look!
ROSE. Good gracious! What?
SCENT. Your ring! You are wearing your royal signet! That is
more than enough to betray us!
DESIRE. Give it to me. (Takes ring from ROSE-IN-BLOOM.) There
is nothing to fear. He said so. This is an experience.
We are seeing life – let us enjoy it while we can.
SCENT (very gloomily). Yes, while we can. It won‘t be long,
mark my words.

TRIO. – ROSE-IN-BLOOM, SCENT-OF-LILIES, and HEART‘S DESIRE.

DESIRE. If you ask me to advise you,
Finish what you have begun;
No one here can recognize you – We are sure of lots of fun!
Full of fun
Risks we‘ll run – Harum-
Scarum;
Danger none!
Harum-scarum, Royal lady!
Harum-scarum, full of fun;
Will the Sultan ever guess it,
Harum-scarum – danger none!
SCENT. Something yet may advertise you
As the royal „Rose-in-Bloom“;
If the Sultan should surprise you,
Ours will be a horrid doom!
Dreadful doom!
Dangers loom!
Bow-string
(Slow-string)
Watery tomb!
Thus the Sultan may express it,
„Harem-scare ‚em! Watery tomb!“
ROSE. O, ‚twixt Prudence and Temptation
Almost equally I rock!
Victim I of vacillation
Like an airy shuttle-cock!
(Shuttle-cock
That you knock
Hither –
Thither – )
So I rock!
Harum-scarum, merry maiden!
Harem-scare ‚em, girl of gloom!
Each of you, I must confess it,
Influences Rose-in-Bloom!

Repeat ensemble.

ROSE. In danger,
SCENT. Ah! danger,
DESIRE. No danger,
ALL. Illah! Illah! Illah!

Enter HASSAN.

HASSAN. Peace be on you!
GIRLS. And on your Peace!
ROSE. We are a party of poor dancers.
HASSAN. Ah! I am just going to collect a party of poor
cripples. Are there only three of you?
DESIRE. There is one more.
ROSE. Here she comes.
HASSAN. The more the merrier!

Enter HONEY-OF-LIFE.

SCENT. She doesn‘t look particularly merry. I‘m sure she has
bad news.
HONEY. Oh, I do want my supper! I‘ve had nothing since tea!
HASSAN. Poor girl. (Goes to house and claps his hands.)
DESIRE (to HONEY-OF-LIFE). Have the guards moved?
HONEY. No. And I‘m starving.
SCENT. Then we are still cut off from the palace!

Enter BLUSH-OF-MORNING.

HASSAN. You shall have supper – anything you like. (To BLUSH-
OF-MORNING.) Conduct these ladies within.
BLUSH. Ladies! I wager they cannot conduct themselves!
HONEY (to SCENT-OF-LILIES). Come along! (Drums heard.)
SCENT (shuddering). I have no appetite.
HONEY. Never mind. I have – enough for two.

Exeunt SCENT-OF-LILIES and HONEY-OF-LIFE with BLUSH-OF-MORNING.

DESIRE. Sir, I will explain our presence.
HASSAN. Don‘t trouble! Read what is written above my door!
Give me enough – for no man needeth more;
He who hath not enough hath less than I,
And, like enough, enough he needeth sore;
But whatsoe‘er he need need not pass by – Mine is the house of Ever Open Door!
My own composition. Some day I may set it to music. In
plain Persian it means Welcome whoever you are. Come
often and stay late. Peace be on you!
(to HEART‘S DESIRE).
„A Book of verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread, and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness“ –
I have spoken.

Exit HASSAN.

ROSE. Cannot we go back to the palace?
DESIRE. When the coast is clear he will tell us – I mean the
Story-Teller. Have patience! (Stands looking off.)
ROSE. But I have no patience! Now I am out in the world I am
impatient to be back in the palace. And when I was shut
up in the palace I was impatient to get out into the
world. Now I longed for the chance. I felt like a girl
waiting to see her lover!
DESIRE. So do I! – I mean, so did I!

Exit HEART‘S DESIRE.

SONG. – ROSE-IN-BLOOM.

‚Neath my lattice through the night
Comes the west-wind perfume laden:
As a lover to a maid
Sighing softly, „Here am I!
Come, and wander where I wander in
the silence of the stars!“

In the moonbeams‘ magic light,
Cool and silent dewdrops glisten
Where the roses weep to listen
To my heart‘s impatient cry:
„Shall the cage-bird leave her prison, golden
through her prison bars?“

Though the bars,
Thy wing beat,
To the stars, O sing!
Let thy soul on wings of music soar beyond thy
prison bars!
Ah!
O bulbul sing to the stars,
Ah!
Let thy soul, etc.

Exit to house.

Enter HASSAN from street, bringing with him a crowd of ragged
beggars, cripples, etc. His wives enter from the house and busy
themselves in handing refreshments to the men, under HASSAN‘s
direction.

CHORUS.

MEN. Tramps and scamps
And halt and blind,
Empty beggar and cringing cripple too!
Maimed and lamed,
Who‘ve wailed and whined
Since the morning for food and tipple too!
Here is truly hospitality!
Take your seats without formality!
Drown our care, conviviality!
While there is sunshine make your hay!

WIVES. Tramps and scamps
Of every kind – Baksheesh beggar and cringing cripple too – Maimed and lamed
And halt and blind
Take his victuals and drink his tipple too!
Here‘s mistaken hospitality!
Disregard for all formality!
Crazy unconventionality!
What will his friends and neighbours say?

HASSAN (to BEGGARS). My friends I am a fool!
‚Tis luck for you that I‘m no wiser!
ALL. Wiser? Why, sir?
HASSAN. With all impostors such as you
I am a sympathiser!
ALL. Fie, sir! Fie, sir!
(to one another). He knows we are impostors,
And he is a sympathiser!
(to HASSAN). But why do you on swindlers
Cast a sympathising eye, sir?
HASSAN. I‘ve been one too!

SONG. – HASSAN and CHORUS.

When my father sent me to Ispahan,
Said he, „My boy, don‘t dread it:
Here‘s the usual one-half crown, Hassan,
You‘ll get some more, with credit.
A nice new suit and a brush and comb,
And a tongue that‘s smooth and witty,
A man may be nothing at all at home – But something in the City!“
CHORUS. That‘s all you want to feel at home
As something in the City!

HASSAN. So I came to town,where I said that I
Was the owner of an island,
Where the sea-birds flocked – and by and bye
The gulls did flock to my land!
As a sample soil I had mixed some loam
With gold to make it gritty;
A prophet I‘d never been made at home – But made one in the City!
CHORUS. A prophet I‘d never been made at home, etc,

HASSAN. Now that gold of mine was a mine of gold
That set the town a-whirling;
So the public and the land I sold
For half a million sterling!
As the Romans do you must do in Rome
(Where thieves are called banditti),
But impudent robbery spells at home,
„Promotion“ in the City!
CHORUS. That‘s what we call it here at home,
„Promotion“ in the City!

Enter YUSSUF from street.

RECITATIVE.

YUSSUF. Peace be upon this house!
ALL. And on you Peace!
YUSSUF. A Story-Teller am I
Of legends and romances,
Attend and I will try
To charm you with my fancies!
HASSAN. Lay down your burthen and sup,
And then take up your burthen;
Choose for yourself a cup
Of silver, gold, or earthen!

Exit HASSAN.

SONG. – YUSSUF and CHORUS.

I care not if the cup I hold
Be one of fair design,
Of crystal, silver, or of gold – If it containeth wine – And humble horn
Will I not scorn
If it do carry wine.
Fill high – Drink dry!
The cup doth matter nought, I trow,
If only it be deep enow!
For, though the cup
Be earthen bowl,
‚Twill hold the juice of grape!
Then up, up, up – And judge the soul
And not the outward shape!
CHORUS. For though the cup, etc.

YUSSUF. I care not how a man be clad,
Or who a man may be,
If he be one to make me glad
To share his company;
Oh, nought I care
What he may wear
While he‘s good company!
Fill high – Drink dry!
For royal wine may sparkle in
Your clumsy clay and crystal thin!
For, though the cup
Be earthen bowl,
‚Twill hold the juice of grape!
Then up, up, up – And judge the soul
And not the outward shape!
CHORUS. For though the cup, etc.

Enter HASSAN.

HASSAN. I have just arranged with a party of singing and
dancing girls who are in the house to give us a refined
entertainment. (All Cripples applaud with crutches,
calling out „Song and Dance!“ „Song and Dance!“) But
first, O Story-Teller, will you tell us a tale?
CHORUS. A tale! A tale!
YUSSUF. With joy and alacrity! (Takes centre of stage.) I‘ll
tell you tales of long ago – old gems of legend lore;
or stories, if you bid me so, you never heard before.
Terrific tales to make you start and quake with horrid
fears; or tender tales to touch your heart, and ask you
for your tears.
HASSAN. Dear me! Do you always talk in rhymed verse?
YUSSUF. Frequently.
HASSAN. I do a little that way myself, sometimes.
YUSSUF. It is a usual accomplishment of a professional Story-
Teller. (While he continues his speech, the Men and
Girls become worked up by his eloquence.) I‘ve a
terrible tale of the „Jinns“ – unearthly and gruesome
and gory! And the fall of proverbial pins can be heard
when I‘m telling that story! And people who hear that
dreadful tale grow faint with fear and quake and quail
and wake in the night from a dreadful dream and turn up
the light and – (All the Girls scream.)
HASSAN. I don‘t think the ladies would like that story.
YUSSUF. I‘ve love tales of kisses and quarrels – queer mixture
of honey and gall – and some of those stories have
morals, and others no morals at all – -

BLUSH-OF-MORNING rises and leaves as if shocked.

HASSAN. Please remember the ladies.
YUSSUF. I have drawing-room tales – you will greet them as fit
for your sister or aunt – HASSAN. That‘s better!
YUSSUF. I have stories so short you‘ll repeat them; and others
so broad that you can‘t!

All Girls rise as if to go.

HASSAN. Do you know I really think we‘ll postpone your story-
telling until the girls have gone to bed.
YUSSUF. With joy and good will. (Girls all sit down again.) Why
not summon the dancers at once?
HASSAN. I will. (Claps his hands.) You don‘t mind, do you?

Enter HEART‘S DESIRE.

YUSSUF. Mind! (Looks in admiration at HEART‘S DESIRE.)
DESIRE. Sir, one of our number will dance for you, by your
leave – and then by your leave we will take our own,
and bid you farewell.
YUSSUF. Oh, how shall I paint in metaphor quaint or simile
daring, the beauty and grace of form and face at which
I am staring?
HASSAN. My position as host allows me to boast – that
feeling‘s de rigueur – (Hesitating as if thinking of
his rhyme.)
YUSSUF. But could language reach any figure of speech to speak
of her figure?
HASSAN (rather annoyed). Precisely. I was about to make that
remark. I see you are a thought-reader as well!

ENSEMBLE with DANCE and CHORUS.
ROSE-IN-BLOOM, SCENT-OF-LILIES, and HEART‘S DESIRE.

Musical maidens are we
(We are three)
And we deal in melodic frivolity!
We sing and we dance,
And we crave for a chance
To afford you a taste of our quality!
Though damsels of lowly degree
(As you see)
We‘ll provide you with innocent pleasure – We‘re pretty maids,
Witty maids,
Step-dance and ditty maids – That is our accurate measure!
ROSE. To sing my own praises I‘m loth,
But in both
Song and dance I‘ve experience ample;
I‘ll play for you – Stay for you – Hours on top „A“ for you – Listen to this for an example!
Ah!
SCENT and DESIRE. O, listen to this, listen!
CHORUS. Musical maidens are they
(So they say)
And provide us with innocent pleasure!

HONEY (entering). That our voices are clear as a bell – You can tell – But of dancing I‘ll give you a sample;
I‘ll trip for you – Skip for you – Twirl on toe-tip for you – Pray look at this for example!

She dances.

HASSAN. Though vowed to the habit of sloth
By an oath,
I will give you myself an example
Of Peri-like,
Fairy-like,
Steps light and airy-like – Pray look at this for a sample!

He dances with HONEY-OF-LIFE. CHORUS joins the dance.

ENSEMBLE.
WIVES. MEN.
Dance and Song Allah! Allah! etc.
To joys of life belong!
Song and Dance
A life of joy enhance!
Both are fair
Whiche‘er you will!
So go, dull Care,
So go, dull Care, away!

As the whole stage is filled with dancers, ABDALLAH enters.

RECITATIVE.

ABDALLAH. Peace be upon this house!
ALL. And on you Peace!
ABDALLAH. To stop your wild carouse
I bring police!

Two Police enter.

ALL. He brings police!
ABDALLAH. From Mahmoud, Ruler of the Nation,
I bring a Royal Proclamation;
So realize the proverb olden
That speech is silver, silence golden!
ALL. Speech is silver, silence golden!
ABDALLAH. Then hold your peace – HASSAN (aside). Behold, Police!
ABDALLAH. A golden peace – HASSAN (aside). A golden piece!

He gives a coin to each of Police.

ABDALLAH. And while I read my manuscript, O!
Attend on Expectation‘s tip-toe!
HASSAN (aside). Now while he reads his manuscript, O!
Let every one creep out on tip-toe!

DUET. – ABDALLAH and HASSAN.

ABDALLAH. We have come to invade
And raid
Your domicile
If you object, I answer „Pooh!“
Say that it‘s cool – Poor fool,
I promise I‘ll
Make it sufficiently warm for you!
HASSAN. Warm for me?
ABDALLAH. Warm for you!
I‘ll make it sufficiently warm for you!
When I make my report
At Court
His Majesty
Wouldn‘t believe my news was true – If a beggar you meet
In the street,
He cadges tea,
Dinner and supper, and breakfast too!
HASSAN. Supper – ABDALLAH. Tea – HASSAN. Breakfast – ABDALLAH. Too!
These cripples you claim
Are lame
Of leg, are men
Who I believe impose on you
By command of the King
I‘ll bring
Those beggarmen
Now to the palace for him to view!
HASSAN. Him to see?
ABDALLAH. Him to view – I‘ll bring them all for him to view!
To prove that I don‘t
And won‘t
Exaggerate,
This is the course I now pursue – As a type of a guest
Arrest
A cadger eight
Ten, or a dozen, or all the crew!
HASSAN. All there be?
ABDALLAH. All the crew!
BOTH. As a type of a guest
Arrest
Six, seven, eight,
Ten, or a dozen – in fact, the crew!

By this time all the beggars have made their exit unseen by
ABDALLAH. The Wives have disappeared into the house.

ABDALLAH. Your boon companions have gone?
HASSAN. Why, so they have! How very unbooncompanionable!

Enter ROSE-IN-BLOOM and Slaves, stealthily, with YUSSUF, from
House.

ABDALLAH (to Police). Then arrest those girls!
ROSE and SLAVES. Us!
YUSSUF. Her! Over my dead body first!
HASSAN. And over mine second!
ABDALLAH (to HASSAN). Do you resist the order of the Sultan?
HASSAN. I don‘t say that. But I must say, O Priest, after what
has passed between us, I consider this intrusion most
unwarrantable!
ABDALLAH. Here is your warrant, O Blind One – to bring before
the Sultan types of persons whom you entertain! (To
Police.) Arrest the girls.
DESIRE. What for?
ABDALLAH. To be brought before the Sultan in the morning.
ROSE (aside). Before the Sultan! We shall lose our heads!
DESIRE (aside). Keep your heads now, and I will save them
altogether. (Aloud.) O Priest, listen! You are laying
your hands on the Sultana!
ABDALLAH, YUSSUF, and HASSAN. The Sultana!
ROSE (aside). Why do you tell them that?
SCENT. A nice way to save us!
HONEY. Now you‘ve done it!
DESIRE. Not quite! (Aloud.) See – the Royal Signet! I am the
Sultana!
YUSSUF. You! (Looks overwhelmed, then goes up as if dazed.)
ABDALLAH (glancing at ring). It is true.
HASSAN (to ABDALLAH). I can assure you there is nothing
whatever between me and the Sultana.
ABDALLAH. You can assure the Sultan.
HASSAN. I suppose you will tell the Sultan?
ABDALLAH. I think so. (Stands contemplating.)
HASSAN. I thought so. (Stands contemplating.)
ROSE (to HEART‘S DESIRE). Why did you tell him that? That
you are me!
DESIRE. Don‘t you see – the Sultan will think I stole the ring
and impersonated you, while you were at home and in bed.
ABDALLAH. I shall tell the Sultan in the morning.
HASSAN (to ABDALLAH). I suppose I shall be executed?
ABDALLAH. I think so.
HASSAN. I thought so. It won‘t make any difference her having
come here against my will?
ABDALLAH. Not a bit.
HASSAN. No.
ABDALLAH. Speaking of wills, your will will be executed directly
you have been.

Enter DANCING SUNBEAM.

HASSAN. That will make no difference to me.
ABDALLAH. It will to me.
SUNBEAM. What‘s this I hear? Police? What does it all mean?
HASSAN. The Sultan is going to have me executed. That‘s all.
SUNBEAM (aside to ABDALLAH). You‘ve arranged this?
ABDALLAH. I am going to.
SUNBEAM (in pretended distress). And your poor little wives are
to be left widows?
HASSAN. Yes. That‘s all you will be left – a widow.
ABDALLAH. The rest of the property is to be left to me!
SUNBEAM. To you? (Realizing what he means.) Oh! Is this how you
have helped me?
ABDALLAH. The Prophet says, „Providence helps him who helps
himself.“
SUNBEAM. Don‘t talk to me of Prophets! (To HASSAN.) Think of
your wives! What will become of them?

OCTET. – DANCING SUNBEAM, ROSE-IN-BLOOM, SCENT-OF-LILIES,
HEART‘S DESIRE, HONEY-OF-LIFE, HASSAN, YUSSUF, and ABDALLAH.

SUNBEAM. The Sultan‘s Executioner
The Royal Retributioner,
Will of course dispose of you
Without the smallest fuss;
You‘ll p‘r‘aps be led
To a public place
By the hair of your head,
As a mark of disgrace;
Anyhow, you‘ll be dead
In a very short space – But what will become of us?
OTHERS. Yes – what will become of them?
HASSAN. No – what will become of me?
ALL. For the Sultan‘s Executioner
The Royal Retributioner,
Will of course know what to do – He acts with amazing phlegm!
You‘ll p‘r‘aps be led
To a public place
By the hair of your head,
As a mark of disgrace;
Anyhow, you‘ll be dead
In a very short space – But what will become of us/them?
HASSAN. No – what will become of me?

SUNBEAM. When the Royal Life-Long-Limiter
Has sharpened up his scimitar,
You‘ll very likely ride
In a sort of a private ‚bus;
By a vulgar throng
To be roundly hissed;
But it won‘t be for long,
So I wouldn‘t resist;
At the sound of a gong
You will cease to resist!
But what will become of us?
OTHERS. Yes – what will become of them?
HASSAN. No – what will become of me?
ALL. When the Royal Life-Long-Limiter
Has sharpened up his scimitar,
Misfortune‘s angry tide
Too late you will be to stem;
By a vulgar throng
To be roundly hissed;
But it won‘t be for long,
So I wouldn‘t resist;
At the sound of a gong
You will cease to resist!
But what will become of us/them?
HASSAN. No – what will become of me?

Exit DANCING SUNBEAM.

ABDALLAH. In the morning I shall tell the Sultan. Peace be on you.
ALL. And on you Peace!

Exit ABDALLAH.

DESIRE (to ROSE-IN-BLOOM). I will see if the way be safe – then we will run to the palace. Wait here. (Exit.)
YUSSUF (looking after her). The Sultan‘s wife!
HASSAN. I have a happy thought.
SCENT. Then be sure it is the only one here. Pass it around in
little pieces, a bit for each of us.
HASSAN. I will. It is in this box – in little pieces of
sweetmeat.
HONEY. I am partial to Persian sweetmeats. But I don‘t think
even rose-leaves fried in sweet oil with vanilla
flavouring would make me forget I may never have
another breakfast!
HASSAN. But this will. I am serious.
ROSE. So are we all – very.
HASSAN. This is a drug called „Bhang.“ Have you heard of it?
GIRLS. No.
YUSSUF. I have; it is worse than opium.
HASSAN. It is better than opium. In times of severe mental
worry it gives dreams much more delightful and
extravagant.
YUSSUF. A dream – and then comes the awakening. (Sighs.) Such
is life!
HASSAN. In our case there will be no awakening! Such is – ! We
shall still be dreaming when – !
GIRLS. Don‘t!
YUSSUF. I never heard of a single man who was happier for
eating Bhang.
HASSAN. My dear sir, that‘s just it. I am not a single man.
When you have been married twenty-six times you will
see the charm of this drug, believe me. If you eat
enough of it you will be able to sit out the most
lengthy and complicated choruses of feminine
complainings, and imagine you are listening to a
promenade concert. I‘ve tried it often. Twice a day.
For years.
HONEY. We might taste it.

The drug is passed round – the Girls eat a little.

HASSAN. A drug that will affect your imagination as to make you
enjoy a curtain lecture from Dancing Sunbeam will carry
you through a paltry execution. I believe a double dose
will enable me to imagine that decapitation is rather
less trouble than having one‘s hair cut. I shall
reserve a double dose, and you can have the remainder.
I shan‘t want it.
HONEY. It‘s not bad. Peculiar, but not bad.
SCENT. Things really do seem a little brighter!
ROSE. Yes. Much!
SCENT. Not much. But a little.
YUSSUF. Not to me! (Sighs deeply.)
HASSAN. What‘s the matter with you? You are not going to lose
your head.
YUSSUF. No. But I have lost my heart – to the Sultan‘s wife – the Royal Rose-in-Bloom.
ROSE. What impert – oh, by the way, that girl who went out
is not the Sultana, you know.
YUSSUF. Not the Sultana? Not the Sultan‘s wife?
HASSAN. Not – ! Why didn‘t you say so before?
HONEY. I don‘t see that it makes any difference.
SCENT. Not a bit.
YUSSUF. No difference! If she is not the Sultana I can ask her
to be my wife – and perhaps she will – and I needn‘t
commit suicide! That‘s the difference!
HASSAN. If the Sultana has not been here, there is no reason
why I should be executed. That‘s all. Little enough – but there it is.

YUSSUF and HASSAN shake hands and show every sign of mutual
congratulations and delight.

SCENT. She was not the Sultana – but she is. (Indicating
ROSE-IN-BLOOM.)
ROSE. Yes. I am.
HASSAN. You are? Then you have been here!
ROSE. Yes. All the time. I am still.
HASSAN. I shall have to take a treble dose of Bhang now,
instead of a double one. (Going to exit.) I don‘t know
what the effect will be, but I mean to be off my head
before they take my head off.

Exit HASSAN.

YUSSUF. Ha! Ha! This is delightful. Where is Heart‘s Desire?

Enter HEART‘S DESIRE, agitated.

DESIRE. I am here! Run into the house – all of you! Hide!
Quick!
ALL. What‘s the matter?
DESIRE. The Sultan himself is coming this way!
ALL. The Sultan!
DESIRE. With the Grand Vizier, Physician-in-Chief, and
Executioner.
ALL (groaning). Ugh!
DESIRE. All disguised as Dervishes! They are coming here!
YUSSUF. Into the house – quick! I will warn Hassan – if he
will listen to me!

Exeunt.

Enter GRAND VIZIER, PHYSICIAN, EXECUTIONER, and SULTAN one by
one.

QUARTET. – VIZIER, PHYSICIAN, EXECUTIONER, and SULTAN.

VIZIER. I‘m the Sultan‘s vigilant Vizier,
Who lets the Sultan know the coast is clear,
When he (the Sultan) takes a private stroll;
Assuming such an assuming role
As Dervish!
PHYSICIAN. I, the Sultan‘s Chief Physician, lug
The Sultan‘s private chest of dose and drug,
And follow his (the Sultan‘s) Grand Vizier,
Who lets the Sultan know the coast is clear,
When he the Sultan takes a private stroll;
Assuming such an assuming role
As Dervish!
EXECUTIONER. I, the Sultan‘s Executioner,
Come just behind His Majesty of Per-
Sia‘s Chief Physician, who (the latter) lugs
His (that‘s the Sultan‘s) private chest of drugs,
And follows his (the Sultan‘s) Grand Vizier,
Who lets the Sultan know the coast is clear,
When he (the Sultan) takes a private stroll;
Assuming such an assuming role
As Dervish!
SULTAN. I‘m the Persian Sultan So-and-So,
Engaged in walking out about incognito,
With my (the Sultan‘s) Executioner;
Who walks behind my Majesty of Per-
Sia‘s Chief Physician, who (the latter) lugs
My Sultan‘s chest of my (the Sultan‘s) drugs,
And follows his – my – (Sultan‘s) Grand Vizier,
Who lets me (the Sultan) know the coast is clear,
When I (the Sultan) take a private stroll;
Assuming such an assuming role
As Dervish!
VIZIER. Dancing Dervish!
PHYSICIAN. Holy Dancing Dervish!
EXECUTIONER. Lowly holy Dancing Dervish!
SULTAN. Simple souly lowly holy Dervish!

ENSEMBLE.

PHYSICIAN. Twirling whirling simple souly lowly Holy Dog of a
Dancing Dervish!
VIZIER. Simple souly lowly Holy Dog of a Dancing Dervish!
EXECUTIONER. Quaintly curling twirling whirling twirling
whirling Dog of a Dancing Dervish!
SULTAN. Tee-to-tummy rummy slummy quaintly curling
twirling whirling simple souly lowly Holy Dog of a
Dancing Dervish!

ALL. Ah! Ah! Ah!
Joyful gyrate
High-rate my rate
Unromantic, frantic, antic
Tee-to-tummy, rummy, slummy,
Quaintly curling, twirling, whirling,
Lowly Holy Dog of a Dancing Dervish!

As they engage in a Dervish Dance, HASSAN enters; he appears
excited, and from time to time eats Bhang.

SULTAN. Is this Hassan the eccentric?
VIZIER (aside). O King, live for ever! It is.
HASSAN (regarding the SULTAN, etc.). You are – let me see – four or eight – no four Dogs of Dervishes!
SULTAN. True, O Hassan!
HASSAN (with an air of condescension). You don‘t know what I
am. I didn‘t know myself, till quite lately. I am the
one man in all Persia who doesn‘t care a fig for the
Sultan!
SULTAN. What?
HASSAN. Or his Executioner. (Eating Bhang.)
SULTAN (aside). Does he know me?
EXEC. O King, I don‘t see how he can!
PHYS. O Commander of the Faithful! This man is mad from the
effects of an overdose of Bhang.
SULTAN. You are sure?
PHYS. I know the symptoms, O King! He will consider himself a
person of more and more importance, until he suddenly
falls unconscious. Then he will sleep for ten hours.

Enter YUSSUF.

HASSAN. If the Royal Executioner were to come here and try to
execute me, I‘d wring his neck!
YUSSUF. Madman!
SULTAN. And why do you care nothing for the Sultan?
HASSAN. Why, dog? Because I am his equal in birth, breeding,
education, and personal appearance. I see you are
sniggering. (To YUSSUF.) Will you go away? (To SULTAN.)
What would you say if I were to tell you that I am the
Sultan himself, myself.
SULTAN. I should say that you were not quite your own self.
HASSAN. Well, I am not really myself – I am the Sultan! You
are sniggering again! If I am not the Sultan, why is
Rose-in-Bloom, the Sultana, in my house, eh?
SULTAN. Rose-in-Bloom?
YUSSUF. Fool – what are you saying?
HASSAN. You must be very deaf. I said, if I am not the Sultan,
why is the Sultana in my house, eh?
SULTAN. Do not joke of her. It is dangerous!
HASSAN. Joke? (A short pause – then quickly.) I will fetch
her.
YUSSUF. He is mad! – -

Exit HASSAN.

SULTAN. Quite!
YUSSUF (aside). What can I say to them? (Aloud.) It is a
dancing girl that his mad imagination has dubbed Rose-
in-Bloom. He believes himself the Sultan, and this
dancer has taken advantage of his madness and called
herself the Sultana! And he believes it! Ha! Ha! It was
a merry jest of the girl.

Exit YUSSUF.

SULTAN. A sorry jest for the girl to call herself my Rose-in-
Bloom – to bring contempt upon the Queen! She shall be
punished. And this Hassan too shall be cured of Bhang-
eating. (To VIZIER, etc.) Go, all of you, change your
disguise for your official dress, and return hither at
once with the Royal Guards. Accept this madman‘s story
– treat him as if he were the Sultan – confirm his
statement that Hassan and the Sultan are the same – and conduct him to the palace, willy-nilly. Leave me
here, and leave the punishment of this impudent dancer
to me. Go, and return quickly.
ALL. We hear you and obey.

Exeunt VIZIER, PHYSICIAN, and EXECUTIONER.

FINALE OF ACT I.

Girls enter from house.

GIRLS. Oh, luckless hour!
Oh, dreadful day!
Oh, quake and cower!
Oh, grief display!
Let tears be shed!
Oh, weep and wail:
Throw dust on head,
And rend each veil!
SUNBEAM (entering). Oh, beat the breast!
Oh, slap the face!
Grief so expressed
Is full of grace!
With BLUSH-OF-MORNING, who has entered, and others.
Oh, luckless hour!
Oh, dreadful day!

SULTAN. Oh, ladies what assails you?
SUNBEAM. ‚Tis our husband!
He has gone mad! Our luckless husband Hassan!
SULTAN. Nay, nay!
SUNBEAM. Yea, yea! He swears he is the Sultan!
SULTAN. Dost thou forget the saying of the Prophet – „Sound sense has often senseless sound,“
And „Truth than fiction stranger may be found“?
SUNBEAM. What mean you?
SULTAN. That, perchance, he is the Sultan!
SUNBEAM. Our husband is the Sultan! How?
SULTAN. Oh, listen!

You‘ll understand that now and then,
Eccentric and peculiar men,
Though undetected by their wives,
Have led respected double lives!
SUNBEAM and BLUSH. We‘ve heard of men who, now and then,
Have led disgraceful double lives!
SULTAN. Throughout the day (when you would guess
He was away at business)
His palace he perhaps has sought!
His nature deeper than you thought!
SUNBEAM and BLUSH. His business he mentioned less
Than quite an honest husband ought!
SUNBEAM, BLUSH, and SULTAN. Alas that men
Should now and then
Lead unsuspected double lives!

Drums heard in the distance.

SUNBEAM and BLUSH. Hark the distant roll of drums!
SULTAN. Nearer – nearer – nearer!
SUNBEAM and BLUSH. ‚Tis the Sultan‘s guard that comes!
SULTAN. Nothing could be clearer!
SUNBEAM and BLUSH. Marching quickly down the street,
Faster, faster, faster!
SULTAN. Doubtless they have come to meet
Hassan – their Royal Master!
ALL. Hark the distant roll of drums! etc.

The SULTAN‘s Guards enter.

GUARDS. With martial gate – With kettle-drums – (Metal drums)
All complete – We‘ve marched in state – While boys silly
Noisily
Dogged our feet!
Gallant company
Sworn to thump any
Lack of loyalty
In the street!
Guards of Royalty!
Keen to kill any
Dogs of villainy
In the street!
Kettle-drums (metal drums)
Rattle tunes (battle tunes) – Boys silly noisily
Halloaing following,
Down the street!

Enter the GRAND VIZIER, PHYSICIAN-IN-CHIEF, and ROYAL
EXECUTIONER, in their official dresses.

TRIO. Attended by these Palace Warders,
Each of us now arrives –
The Grand Vizier – Physician-in-Chief – And Royal Executioner!
Obedient to the Sultan‘s orders,
Carrying to his wives
Some news, we fear,
Beyond their belief –
Attend to what we now aver!
CHORUS. Some news, they fear, etc.

VIZIER. He whom you call Hassan –
(Prepare for great surprise) – Is quite another man – The Sultan in disguise!
SUNBEAM. Our husband, our Hassan – BLUSH. The Sultan in disguise!
CHORUS. The Sultan in disguise!
PHYSICIAN. Endeavour, if you can,
This fact to realise;
The Sultan is Hassan,
And vice-versa-wise!
SUNBEAM. The Sultan is Hassan,
BLUSH. And vice-versa-wise!
CHORUS. The Sultan is Hassan, etc.
EXECUTIONER. Each is another man – That is, id est, or viz,
The Sultan is Hassan,
Hassan the Sultan is!
SUNBEAM. The Sultan is Hassan!
BLUSH. Hassan the Sultan is!
CHORUS. The Sultan is Hassan, etc.
SULTAN. Distinguish, if you can,
Their mixed identities:
The Sultan is Hassan!
Hassan the Sultan is!
SUNBEAM. The Sultan is Hassan!
BLUSH. Hassan the Sultan is!
ALL. The Sultan is Hassan, etc.

SUNBEAM. See, here he comes! Oh, recollect
To grovel on the floor!
Nor high-flown compliments neglect,
Wrapped up in metaphor!

WOMEN. Oh, fit the arrows of respect
To bows of metaphor,
And flights of flattery direct
At him whom we adore!
To load the camel of good taste
With bales of welcome haste!
Invite the Sultan to the tent
Of Eastern compliment!
ALL. Let Adulation‘s pleasant breeze
His Royal nostrils reach,
Perfumed with spice of similes
And fragrant flowers of speech!
Let dull and leaden-coloured clouds
Of ordinary crowds
Before the Sun of Royal Pride
Respectfully divide!

HASSAN enters, leading ROSE-IN-BLOOM, who is veiled; as she
passes the SULTAN, she draws her veil closer. HASSAN is met by
the EXECUTIONER, who introduces himself to him, making obeisance.

HASSAN. I am the Sultan, and I now
Shall introduce to you
The fair Sultana, and allow
Her face to be one view!
SUNBEAM. Oh, husband dear!
HASSAN. Avaunt, avaunt!
Oh, woman gray and gaunt!
BLUSH. She is Sultana!
HASSAN. Go away!
Oh, woman gaunt and gray!
(to ROSE.) Veiled so thickly,
Royal lady,
How can I your presence prove?
Therefore quickly,
O Zubeydeh,
If you please that veil remove!

ENSEMBLE.
WIVES. SULTAN and MEN.
Fate is prickly! Thinking thickly
In the heyday Singer shady
Of success he doth remove My/His Sultana will he prove!
Favours quickly Truly quickly
To a shady Make a lady,
Girl of lowest social groove! Mate for King in single move!

ROSE. Hassan! Thy pity I entreat
And at thy feet
A suppliant, lo! I kneel;
Respect my maiden modesty
I beg of thee – Turn not from my appeal!
Thine oriental etiquette
Dost thou forget?
To force a maid to raise her veil
Before a male?
CHORUS. Turn not, turn not, Hassan!

SCENT-OF-LILIES, HEART‘S DESIRE, and HONEY-OF-LIFE enter veiled
with YUSSUF.

HASSAN (to ROSE). O lady, do not fail
Your life or death to choose!
Remove your modest veil
At once, or – ROSE (in desperation). I refuse!
HASSAN. Then, Executioner,
With scimitar await;
Perhaps you‘ll kindly her
At once decapitate!
ALL. Oh, horror!
ROYAL SLAVES. Mistress!
YUSSUF. I will speak!
ROSE. Nay, nay! ‚Tis Fate – it has been written!
EXECUTIONER (to SULTAN). Shall I slay her?
SULTAN. Yes; obey in all things.
EXECUTIONER. I obey!
HASSAN. The signal take from me!
It will be very brief:
I‘ll say, „One, two, three,“
Then drop my handkerchief!
ALL. Just „one“ and „two“ and „three,“
Then drop his handkerchief!
HASSAN. One!
ROYAL SLAVES. Can naught be done?
HASSAN. Two!
ROSE. What can ye do?

HASSAN begins to stagger, and is unable to speak.

ALL (watching HASSAN). Like a leaf
He shakes with palsy!
Handkerchief
Will never fall – see!
He himself will fall instead!(He falls.)
He has fallen – fallen dead!
ROSE. Oh, sweet reprieve!
ROYAL SLAVES. Oh, loudly grieve!
Hassan is dead!
CHORUS. The Sultan dead!
MEN. The Sultan dead! (Laughing.)
SULTAN, 3 MEN. Ho, ho, ho, ho!
The Sultan‘s dead!
PHYSICIAN. Not so! He will be better soon!
(Aside to SULTAN.) It is the drug! (Aloud.) It is a swoon!
WIVES. It is a swoon! O joy! O joy!
SULTAN. Conduct him to the palace!

HASSAN is put into the Royal litter.

ENSEMBLE.
MEN. With martial gait,
With kettle-drums
(Metal-drums)
All complete!
Gallant company
Sworn to thump any
Lack of loyalty
In the street – Kettle-drums (metal drums)
Rattle tunes (battle tunes)
Halloaing down the street.

WIVES. ROSE, SLAVES.
Suicidal Homicidal
Was our sadness; Was his madness!
Fortune tidal Fortune tidal
Turns to gladness! Turns to gladness!
We are Royal Ladies now! Safe the Royal ladies now!

ALL. Conduct him to the palace, and
To mark well mark his coming,
Commence, O loyal Royal band,
Your (metal) kettle drumming!

HASSAN is placed in the Royal litter; the Guards prepare to
conduct him forth.

END OF ACT I

ACT II

SCENE. – Open audience hall in the SULTAN‘s palace. HEART‘S
DESIRE discovered.

DUET. – HEART‘S DESIRE and YUSSUF.

DESIRE. Oh, what is love?
A song from heart to heart;
When each doth compliment
Its counterpart.
Oh, where is love?
‚Tis ever near at hand;
Where earth and heaven meet
In fairyland.
Oh, why is love?
It maketh us to see
That Heaven may be reached
By you or me;
By bond or free!

YUSSUF enters.

The Song of self
Is but a melody;

YUSSUF. Love lends of sympathy
A counter-theme;
BOTH. And life becomes a dream
Of Heaven‘s harmony.

YUSSUF. Heart‘s Desire!
DESIRE. There! I thought I heard your voice. How did you pass
the gates? And where have you come from? And why are
you so ragged?
YUSSUF. I have not passed the gates, for I passed the night in
a rose bush in the Royal garden.
DESIRE. But why?
YUSSUF. When I had seen you enter the Palace last night, out of
breath, but in the nick of time – I did not leave the
garden!
DESIRE. Oh, that was foolish!
YUSSUF. I forgot I was in the garden, when you left it; for you
took the perfume and the moonlight with you.

Enter HONEY-OF-LIFE and SCENT-OF-LILIES.

DESIRE. And I thought I had left Fairyland outside – with you.
HONEY. Breakfast is ready!
SCENT (to YUSSUF). What are you doing here?
YUSSUF. I am waiting to see the Sultan, when he gives public
audience, to ask him to give me my Heart‘s Desire; to
tell him frankly and openly and proudly how and when I
met her, that I love her, and want her for my wife.
HONEY. I wouldn‘t do that.
SCENT. No, I don‘t think that would be wise.
DESIRE. Why not, pray?
HONEY. Oh, we‘re not jealous – don‘t think that.
SCENT. Some people notice us, you know.
HONEY. The Grand Vizier is quite good enough for me!
SCENT. The Royal Executioner is all I want!
HONEY. But if you blurt out how and when you met us we shall
be thrown down a well. We‘ve found that out.
SCENT. I have been sitting on the Executioner‘s knee, looking
at his illustrated Book of Tortures. That‘s what
happens to girls who disguise themselves and leave the
Harem. A deep – HONEY. Dark – DESIRE. Dry – YUSSUF. Well!
DESIRE (to YUSSUF). Perhaps it would be wise to disguise the
facts, dear, a little, if you can – to the Sultan.
YUSSUF. I am a Story-Teller by profession – not in private
life. Can you marry me if I tell deliberate falsehoods?
DESIRE. Well, darling, I sha‘n‘t be able to if you don‘t – that‘s the point.
SCENT. That‘s it.
HONEY. In a nutshell.

QUARTET. – SCENT-OF-LILIES, HEART‘S DESIRE, HONEY-OF-LIFE, and
YUSSUF.

GIRLS. If you or I should tell the truth
We all shall be executed,
So won‘t you try, O noble-minded youth,
To tell the truth diluted?
As we all shall be thrown down a well,
Pell-mell,
If the truth we tell,
(You and I as well),
In a heap down a deep dark well – YUSSUF. Well, well!
We‘ll tell the truth diluted!
ALL (to one another).
As I‘m loth that we both
Take a leap in a heap,
Down a steep and a deep, dark well,
Well, well?
We‘ll tell the truth diluted!
Just a little tarradiddle-iddle-id diluted!

YUSSUF. As you and I, the truth to tell,
Have naught but the truth to dread, dear,
We‘ll let Truth lie at the bottom of a well – Or we shall be there instead, dear!
As we both shall be cast down a well,
Pell-mell,
If the truth we tell,
(You and I as well),
Very fast down a nasty well – GIRLS. Well, well!
We‘ll tell a fib instead, dear!
ALL (to one another).
As I‘m loth that we both
At the last shall be cast
Very fast down a nasty well,
Well, well,
We‘ll tell a fib instead, dear!
Just a little tarradiddle idyll fib instead, dear!

DANCE and Exeunt.

The Court Slaves and Officials enter, Men and Girls.

CHORUS.

From Morning Prayer
The Sultan of Persia comes!
Let trumpets blare
And loudly attack the drums!
The flutes as well
Including the quaint bassoon,
And let them boldly blow
An apropos
And popular Persian tune!
Your bodies bend!
Your popular Sultan comes!
Your hands extend!
Respectfully cross your thumbs!
And with salaam
Endeavour to sing (or croon)
In key that‘s quite correct
(As he‘ll expect)
A popular Persian tune!

VIZIER (entering). Outside a mob
Of people expectant hums;
Their pulses throb – Their popular Sultan comes!
And when they see
Their popular Sultan soon
They‘ll all break out
And sing (or shout)
This popular Persian tune!
PHYSICIAN and EXECUTIONER (entering).
Good new we bring – Your popular Sultan comes!
Upon him fling
Selected encomiums!
Address him as
The Sun or the Rising Moon;
And don‘t forget
Your praise to set
To a popular Persian tune!

CHORUS. From Morning Prayer, etc.

The SULTAN enters. Everyone is prostrated.

SULTAN. Are the Royal Slave Girls and Officials all present?
VIZIER. Yes, O King!
SULTAN. Where is the man Hassan?
VIZIER. O King, he is still sleeping from the effect of Bhang.
SULTAN. Last night he boasted he was as good as I!
VIZIER. Shall he die, O King?
PHYS. For the lie, O King?
EXEC. Shall I, O King? (Drawing scimitar.)
SULTAN. No, no.
ALL. We hear you and obey.
SULTAN. When he said he was as good as I he may have spoken the
truth. He is the first man who has ever said such a
thing – to my face; and he has given me an idea. Take
him, while he still sleeps, and dress him in a royal
robe, and put a crown upon his head – (Taking off his
own crown) – and when he wakes, see that he finds
himself seated on the throne.
VIZIER. The throne, O King?
PHYS. Your own, O King?
SULTAN. Yes.
ALL. We hear you and obey.
SULTAN. And see that he is treated exactly as if he were Sultan
– in every respect. See that you treat me exactly as
if I were not Sultan – with no respect. You can begin
at once by assuming a perpendicular position.
ALL. We hear you and obey.
VIZIER (kneeling). O King, it will be impossible to treat
another as we should treat you!
SULTAN. Oh, no, not at all. If I find the experiment
successful, I shall leave him here to be grovelled to,
while I go for a few weeks to the seaside, disguised as
a cheap tripper. The truth is – I don‘t want to offend
you – but I‘m a little tired of you all – just a
leetle bit tired of seeing everybody crawling about on
their stomachs. (Lifting up VIZIER.) I don‘t blame you.
I know you can‘t help it. I know you‘re unhappy now,
because you‘re not cringing, aren‘t you? Well, well, I
won‘t be cruel – down you get.
VIZIER (kneeling). O King, this is not a natural attitude. But
it is natural to be unnatural when Kings are about.
SULTAN. Exactly. It‘s human nature. Bless you, there‘s nothing
new in that. People talk about Society nowadays being
artificial. Not a bit. Modern manners are only original
human nature some years in bottle.

SONG. – SULTAN and CHORUS.

Let a satirist enumerate a catalogue of crimes
Though he label them the outcome of our
shallow modern times;
Yet a Persian Punch‘s pencil, in a prehistoric peep,
Would show us human nature just as shallow –
or as deep.
It is money more than manners nowadays that make a man;
And a man may make his money in such manner as he can;
And the more he makes of it, the more his
friends will make of him – That has always been the way since human
sharks began to swim!
And cynics may complain
That Society is mixed;
But I gather in the main
Its ingredients are fixed;
And Society has always been a sort of „ginger-pop,“
The dregs are at the bottom, and the froth
is at the top!
CHORUS. And Society has always been, etc.

SULTAN. Now philosophy may frown upon the follies of
the froth – Where bounce has beaten brains and vulgar
shoddy‘s counted cloth,
Where sentiment is „silly,“ and politeness
„out of date,“
And hearts, instead of golden, are a cheap
electro-plate;
But a woman is a woman, and a man is but a man,
And the froth has always floated ever since
the world began;
And the froth of human nature is the feeble-minded mob
Of animated fashion-plates that make the genus „snob.“
And cynics may complain
That Society is mixed;
I am ready to maintain
Its ingredients are fixed;
And the world of men and women is a
social „ginger-pop,“
The dregs are at the bottom, and the froth
is at the top!
CHORUS. And the world of men and women, etc.

Exeunt CHORUS [and EXECUTIONER.]

SULTAN (to VIZIER, who has again prostrated himself). Dear,
dear! Please stand up! I do think that even a Sultan‘s
Court officials might occasionally be upright.
VIZIER (rising). O King, the light of your countenance blinds
me!
SULTAN. Well, I‘ll turn my face away for a little, and you can
get used to the notion comfortably. Understand, I want
you to treat me as nobody of any consequence – quite
your own equal. Keep repeating that to yourself – you‘ll soon grow accustomed to the idea. (Turns his
back.)
VIZIER. O King, the idea is painful to me!
SULTAN. Nonsense! Shut your eyes and keep repeating it.

HONEY-OF-LIFE appears, looking round entrance.

HONEY (to VIZIER). Vizzie-Wizzie! (Embraces VIZIER.)
VIZIER (embarrassed). Ahem! (Indicates presence of SULTAN.)
HONEY (entering and prostrating herself). O Commander of the
Faithful! I did not recognize you, with your back
turned and without your crown.
SULTAN (turning to her). Eh? Get up, girl! (Raising her.) Dear
me – a very pretty face. You are to treat me exactly
as you would treat the Vizier.
HONEY. Exactly as I would treat the Vizier? (Astonished.)
SULTAN. Yes. He says the idea is painful to him.
HONEY. I dare say. He is frightfully jealous.
SULTAN. I don‘t see what jealousy has to do with it. All I want
you to do is to treat me exactly as you would him; that
will give him a lesson.
HONEY. Do you really mean it, O King?
SULTAN. Don‘t call me „O King.“ Address me as you would him.
HONEY. Well – if I must, I must. Sit down, Vizzie-Wizzie!
SULTAN (sitting on step of throne). Eh?
HONEY (sitting beside him). There! (Kisses him.)
SULTAN. Dear me! And what would the Vizier do?
VIZIER (angrily). He would say, „Keep your place, naughty girl
– and I will keep mine.“
SULTAN. A good idea. (to HONEY-OF-LIFE.) Keep your place,
naughty girl – and er – yes – I will keep mine.
Would the Vizier do this? (Kisses her.)
VIZIER. Certainly not!
SULTAN. Then he can have no objection to my doing it.

Kisses her as enter DANCING SUNBEAM and BLUSH-OF-MORNING
[followed by HEART‘S DESIRE.]

[NOTE: The libretto has „Song-of-Nightingales“ entering at this
point, not „Heart‘s Desire.“ The vocal score has Heart‘s Desire
taking the mezzo-soprano (third) line of the next song, and so I
have indicated the character here and omitted Song-of-
Nightingales. – ed.]

SUNBEAM. That is exactly what I expected.
SULTAN. Indeed, madam? Well – the other Vizier is disengaged.
(Kisses HONEY-OF-LIFE.)
SUNBEAM. You will both be disengaged very quickly, if you don‘t
do as I bid you. Lead me to the Sultana‘s apartments.
SULTAN. Who is this?
HONEY. Oh, I came to announce them. They are a Deputation.
BLUSH. We are wives of the man called Hassan, who, we learned
last night, is no other than the Sultan.
SUNBEAM. And I claim my rights.
SULTAN. Do you mean that you wish to be recognized as the
Sultana?
SUNBEAM. Precisely. I am the Sultana!
VIZIER. She undoubtedly is – if Hassan is Sultan. What will
Rose-in-Bloom say, eh? (Digs SULTAN in ribs – SULTAN
rather annoyed.)
SULTAN. And you consider yourself fitted to take exalted rank?
SUNBEAM. Emphatically!

SONG. – DANCING SUNBEAM, with BLUSH-OF-MORNING, HONEY-OF-LIFE,
HEART‘S DESIRE, SULTAN, VIZIER, and PHYSICIAN.

SUNBEAM. In the heart of my hearts I‘ve always known – OTHERS. She‘s always known – SUNBEAM. I‘ve always known
I should one day grace a social throne!
OTHERS. A social throne she‘d grace!
SUNBEAM. I dreamed at the age of slim fifteen – OTHERS. Far dim fifteen – SUNBEAM. Of slim fifteen
I should be what you see – a Social Queen!
OTHERS. Then take your proper place!
SUNBEAM. For to stand at the top
Of a wide staircase,
Till you‘re fit to drop
With a fixed grimace
OTHERS. (That is meant for a smile
Of enjoyment keen),
Is the way
To be gay
As a Social Queen –
And that‘s your proper, proper place!
ALL. That‘s your proper, proper place!

SUNBEAM. There are women I‘ve known, and I sha‘n‘t forget – OTHERS. She can‘t forget – SUNBEAM. I sha‘n‘t forget – Who were Queens in my suburban set – OTHERS. A far inferior race!
SUNBEAM. They‘ll learn there‘s a wider gap between – OTHERS. A gap between – SUNBEAM. A gulf between
Them and me (you‘ll see) now I‘m a Queen!
OTHERS. You‘ll put them in their place!
SUNBEAM. For to turn up your nose
At the people who
Are precisely those
Who have once snubbed you – OTHERS. For to patronize them,
Or to cut them clean,
Is the height
Of delight
To a Social Queen!
And that‘s your proper, proper place!
ALL. That‘s your proper, proper place!

DANCE.

Exeunt DANCING SUNBEAM, HONEY-OF-LIFE, BLUSH-OF-MORNING, [HEART‘S
DESIRE,] and PHYSICIAN.

SULTAN (to VIZIER). Where have they gone?
VIZIER. Honey-of-Life is taking them to the western door of the
Harem.
SULTAN. But before they go in there, my joke must be explained
to Rose-in-Bloom. She won‘t understand another lady
marching in, calling herself Sultana. Run after Honey-
of-Life!
VIZIER. I had been running after her for weeks, when you just
now took up the running.
SULTAN. Tut, tut, man! That was part of the joke – one of the
best parts. Go and tell Honey-of-Life to tell Rose-in-
Bloom about Hassan.
VIZIER. I hear and obey. (At exit.) Rose-in-Bloom shall be told
the whole of your joke – especially the best part.
(Exit L.U.E.)
SULTAN (calling after him). No – not that part!

Enter HEART‘S DESIRE, R.U.E.

DESIRE. O King, the favoured Rose-in-Bloom approaches, praying
for an audience.
SULTAN. Is she coming from the western door?
DESIRE. No, O King – from the eastern.
SULTAN. It is well. (Going quickly to L.U.E., then turning.)
Tell her, if you see her first, that another lady is
calling herself Sultana – in a moment I will return
and tell her why.

Exit SULTAN.

Enter SCENT-OF-LILIES.

DESIRE. A new Sultana!
SCENT. What‘s the matter?

Enter ROSE-IN-BLOOM.

DESIRE. The Sultan has disgraced Rose-in-Bloom. Another Sultana
is already installed in her place.
ROSE. What?
SCENT. Ah!
DESIRE. He has ordered me to tell you.
SCENT. What did I tell you?
DESIRE. In a moment he will return and tell you why.
ROSE. There‘s no need for that. He has found out everything.

Enter SULTAN.

SULTAN. Ah! Here you are! You heard my message?
ROSE. Yes. Pardon!
DESIRE. Pardon!
SCENT. I know it‘s very little use, but – pardon!
SULTAN. I beg your pardon – what do you mean?

Enter HONEY-OF-LIFE.

ROSE, SCENT, and DESIRE. We didn‘t mean any harm – we didn‘t
mean anything wrong. Pardon!
HONEY. Pardon!
SULTAN (to HONEY). What do you want?
HONEY. The Vizier sent me to help you explain your joke to the
Sultana. He says he is sure you will forget the best
part.
SULTAN. Ah! I prefer to talk to the Sultana privately.
ROSE, SCENT, and DESIRE. To the Sultana? (Looking at one
another.) Is she/Am I still the Sultana?
SULTAN. Now I think I understand. Dear me! You misunderstood my
message. I am obliged to allow a certain lady to call
herself Sultana as part of a joke I am playing on a man
named Hassan.
ROSE. A joke?
SULTAN. Yes.
HONEY. The Vizier told me to remind you that you said the best
part of the joke – SULTAN. Yes, I remember. (To ROSE-IN-BLOOM.) Would you mind
dismissing these girls?
ROSE. Oh, I don‘t mind anything now!
SULTAN. You really thought you were disgraced! And it was only
part of a joke. Ha! Ha! Ha!
GIRLS (forcing a laugh). Ha! Ha! Ha!
SULTAN. But what did you imagine you had been disgraced for?
ROSE. Oh, well – (to GIRLS.) Why, I didn‘t really think I
had been. Did I?
SULTAN. But you were praying for pardon – what for?
DESIRE. Oh, that was part of our joke! Ha! Ha! Ha! (forced
laugh)
GIRLS. Yes, that was our joke! Ha! Ha!

Exeunt HEART‘S DESIRE and SCENT-OF-LILIES, with forced laugh.

HONEY. The Vizier says he won‘t speak to me again if I forget
to remind you that you said the best part of your joke
was – SULTAN. Yes – I remember – run away!

Exit HONEY-OF-LIFE.

ROSE. Haven‘t you told me all of the joke?
SULTAN. My dear, the whole matter is that I went last night in
disguise to the house of a man named Hassan – ROSE. Yes, I know.
SULTAN. Do you? How?
ROSE. Well, I declare – I must have dreamed that you did! I
often dream of you going about in disguise – and – and meeting other girls – and – and kissing them.
SULTAN. Dreams generally have nothing to do with what has
really occurred.
ROSE. No – that‘s what comforts me. Now the other night I
had an absurd dream that I actually went out of the
Palace in disguise.
SULTAN. How ridiculous!
ROSE. Wasn‘t it? Suppose I ever did such a thing – what
would the punishment be?
SULTAN. Oh, death, I suppose.
ROSE. Are you sure?
SULTAN. I might try to think of something worse. It would
depend, of course, on my mood. Why do you want to know?
ROSE. Because, in my dream, you did find me out, and said,
„Oh, well, you‘ve done no real harm – I sha‘n‘t punish
you at all.“
SULTAN. How absurdly people talk in their dreams, don‘t they?

DUET. – ROSE-IN-BLOOM and SULTAN.

ROSE. Suppose – I say suppose – That your silly ickle wife
Just for once in all her life
Were to foolishly forget
Oriental etiquette
And infringe a regulation
Formed for persons of her station – Would oo blame oo ickle wifie?
Would oo punish wifie-pifie?
(Earnestly.) Would she meet a dreadful doom?
SULTAN. Suppose my lovely Rose,
My Royal Rose-in-Bloom,
My Royal spouse Zubeydeh,
Could forget she is a lady – Then my silly ickle wifie
Oo would lose oo ickle lifie!

ENSEMBLE.
SULTAN. ROSE-IN-BLOOM.
For queens must not forget, For queens must not forget
My pet, Their „set,“
They owe to etiquette They owe to etiquette
A debt; A debt;
And Royalty must ever be And Royalty must ever be
Upheld in perfect dignity! Upheld in perfect dignity!

ROSE. Suppose – I say suppose – That one night she couldn‘t sleep,
So she thought that she would creep
Like a silent little mouse
Down the stairs and out the house
And about the city trotted – Would she have to be garotted?
Would a nasty knifie-pifie
Put an end to ickle wifie
Or a bow-string be her doom?
SULTAN. My wifie-pifie knows,
My Royal Rose-in-Bloom,
If she did what you refer to,
Then the Executioner to,
With his great big knifie-pifie,
I should send my ickle wifie!

ENSEMBLE.
SULTAN. ROSE-IN-BLOOM.
But as I can‘t suppose But as you can‘t suppose
My Rose Your Rose,
Forgetting what she knows Forgetting what she knows
She owes She owes
To rigid Royal etiquette, To rigid Royal etiquette,
We will not talk of that, We will not talk of that,
my pet! as yet!

CHORUS enter with HASSAN, who is carried in still unconscious,
and set upon the throne. He is dressed in Royal garments.

SCENE.

CHORUS. Laughing low,
On toe-tip,
Finger so – On each lip!
Whispering,
(Undertone,)
Set the King
On the throne!
King Hassan!
Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Laugh pian-
Issimo. Ho! ho! ho!
Hush, hush, hush, hush!

They watch HASSAN, who slowly begins to wake.

HASSAN (opening his eyes).
Where am I – where?
VIZIER. Where art thou – where
But in thy palace rich and rare,
Where none can say thee nay.
CHORUS. Where everyone
Will rush and run
And race to get thy bidding done – We hear thee and obey!
HASSAN (astonished). But hear me speak – PHYSICIAN. But hear him speak,
And other music‘s flat and weak
Beside his golden speech!
CHORUS. His lightest word
Is far preferred
Beyond the music any bird
Could ever hope to reach!
HASSAN (more bewildered).
Attend to me – EXECUTIONER. Attend to him
And bring a goblet to the brim
With Persian sherbet filled!
CHORUS. And when he dips
His Royal lips
Let dainty damask catch the drips,
That none of them be spilled!
Attend to him!

HASSAN. Has Dancing Sunbeam had the house re-decorated, and
invited a party while I‘ve been asleep? (To VIZIER.) Is
this my house?
VIZIER. O King, are you not the Sultan?
HASSAN. Don‘t be silly! If this is a joke on the part of my
wives, it is a very cheap form of wit – or very
expensive. These decorations – (looking round, he sees
the EXECUTIONER.) Aren‘t you the Sultan‘s Executioner?
EXEC. Yes – I am your Executioner.
HASSAN. My Executioner! (In a sudden access of terror.) I
remember now. I‘m going to be executed. Mercy! Mercy!
(Throws himself at feet of the EXECUTIONER.)

Enter SULTAN.

SULTAN. What is happening to the Commander of the Faithful?
PHYS. I think that while he slept he was troubled by a bad
dream, and the shadow of his nightmare still lingers
with him.
SULTAN. Is that so, O King?
HASSAN (after a pause). A dream! Would it be possible that
everything that is real I should have forgotten, and
that everything I remember is only a dream?
PHYS. Quite.
HASSAN. And who are you?
PHYS. Your Physician-in-Chief, O King. Do you not know me?
HASSAN. No. And yet I seem to have a cloudy recollection of
having seen you somewhere – and you – and you (to
VIZIER, SULTAN, and EXECUTIONER.) (To EXECUTIONER.) I
actually recognised you, didn‘t I?
EXEC. O King, it was a great joy to me.
HASSAN. Somehow it wasn‘t to me. Do you really mean to say that
I am the Sultan?
SULTAN. May your shadow never grow less.
HASSAN. Talking of growing less – how is it that my clothes
fit so badly? I seem to have shrunk.
SULTAN. O King, you have just awakened from a long illness.
HASSAN. Have I?
SULTAN. That is why your memory and your body have both shrunk.
HASSAN. My memory has simply shrunk to nothing. Except my
delirium, I can‘t remember – Have you ever heard of a
man called Hassan – whom folks call „Mad Hassan“?
VIZIER. Mad Hassan?
SULTAN. Who is he, O King?
HASSAN. I – I don‘t quite know.
SULTAN. Is there such a man, O King?
HASSAN. I – I‘m not quite sure. (Almost weeps. Buries his face
in his hands.)
VIZIER (to SULTAN). Shall the people enter who crave audience?
SULTAN. Yes. You have warned them they are to address him as if
he were myself?
VIZIER. Yes, O King.
SULTAN. Anything he grants wisely I will confirm.
VIZIER (reading from list). Yussuf, a Story-Teller, craves a
boon of the Full Moon of Full Moons.

Enter HEART‘S DESIRE.

SULTAN. Bring Yussuf, the Story-Teller! (Enter HONEY-OF-LIFE.)
VIZIER. Yussuf, the Story-Teller! (Enter SCENT-OF-LILIES.)
PHYS. Yussuf, the Story-Teller!
EXEC. Yussuf, the Story-Teller! (Enter YUSSUF.)
YUSSUF. I am here – Yussuf, the Story-Teller!
DESIRE (aside to YUSSUF). Be very careful!
SCENT (aside). Mind what you say!
HONEY (aside). Don‘t get flustered!
YUSSUF. I have come to – to – that is to say – -

HASSAN has raised his head and is regarding him earnestly.

SULTAN. To say what?
YUSSUF. That I would ask for one of the Royal Slaves for a
wife!
HASSAN. Listen: did you meet the slave at the house of a man
named Hassan?
YUSSUF. No – er – O King!
HASSAN. Do you know a man named Mad Hassan?
YUSSUF. No – er – O King!
HASSAN. It is most extraordinary. (Sinks back. Then leans
forward and points to HEART‘S DESIRE.) Is not that the
slave you would take to wife?
YUSSUF. No – I don‘t know her – I don‘t know Hassan – I
don‘t know – SULTAN. Don‘t you know whom you do want to marry?
YUSSUF. No.
HASSAN. Young man, you seem to be one of those who rush very
blindly into matrimony. Remember, that in the matter of
wives you will find that five-and-twenty are
practically – (To SULTAN.) How many wives have I?
SULTAN. In the Royal Harem there are six hundred and seventy-
one, O King.
HASSAN. Good gracious! You don‘t say so!
SULTAN. Stand back, O Story-Teller, and if your other stories
equal this story of your love, I should join another
profession.
DESIRE. I think you tell stories magnificently.
VIZIER. Abdallah the Priest begs an audience.
HASSAN. Eh?
SULTAN. Bring Abdallah the Priest.
DESIRE (to YUSSUF). If he speaks of the Sultana, you shall
hear me tell my story. (Goes up.)
VIZIER. Abdallah the Priest!
PHYS. Abdallah the Priest!
EXEC. Abdallah the Priest!

Enter ABDALLAH.

ABDALLAH. I am here – Abdallah the Priest!
HASSAN. Ah! Do you know a man that folks call Mad Hassan?
ABDALLAH. Yes, O King!
HASSAN. Where is he?
ABDALLAH. He is at the point of death.
HASSAN. Why – why do you think that?
ABDALLAH. Because, when the Sultan knows that his Sultana visited
this man‘s house last night, he will assuredly put
Hassan to death.
SULTAN. Is this true, Hassan?
HASSAN. Then I am Hassan!
SULTAN. And I am the Sultan!
HASSAN. Well, I‘m not sorry! Six hundred and seventy-one wives
– and I‘ve not forgotten my past life!
SULTAN. Make the most of the recollection – for you have
little enough in the future, if this be true. Speak,
dog!
ABDALLAH. It is true, O King. I saw the Sultana in his house,
wearing the Royal signet.
HASSAN. O King, it is true that she dropped in – unexpectedly
– but if you will listen to me – SULTAN. Listen, dog! Have I not heard enough? (To EXECUTIONER,
who has moved across.) Slay this man! And the Sultana – Rose-in-Bloom – she favours low company; marry her
to the Story-Teller, who wants a wife, and cares not
who it is. I have spoken.
DESIRE. O King – hear me! Rose-in-Bloom is innocent. The
signet was worn by – SULTAN. I have spoken.

Exeunt SULTAN and ABDALLAH.

SCENT. I said that idea wouldn‘t come off.

QUINTET and CHORUS. – SCENT-OF-LILIES, HEART‘S DESIRE, YUSSUF,
HASSAN, and EXECUTIONER.

SCENT (to EXECUTIONER).
It‘s a busy, busy, busy, busy day for thee
Very busy, busy, busy must a morning be
For any man
Who has to plan
For a wedding and a beheading.
EXECUTIONER. For the marriage order carriages at half-past two:
(to HASSAN). And the block at two o‘clock, but that
will be for you!
And, bless my heart,
It‘s time to start,
Or I shall be late for the wedding!
CHORUS. But bless my heart, etc.
YUSSUF (to DESIRE). Of overpowering high degree
Th‘exalted dame who marries me!
But we must part,
My own sweetheart,
Must part, my true sweetheart!
SCENT (to DESIRE).
It‘s a mise-mise-miserable day for thee!
Ah! mise-miserable will the marriage be!
DESIRE (to YUSSUF). I‘ll plot and plan,
And, if I can,
Upset the fate you‘re dreading!
HASSAN (to YUSSUF).
At your marriage, though the carriages
obstruct the view,
It‘s the block at two o‘clock that
I shall not get through!
And bless my heart,
It‘s time to start,
Or I shall be late for beheading!
CHORUS. Or I shall be late for the wedding.

ENSEMBLE.

SCENT-OF-LILIES, YUSSUF. Of overpowering high degree, etc.
HEART‘S DESIRE. I‘ll plot and plan, etc.
HASSAN, EXECUTIONER, CHORUS.
It‘s a busy, busy, busy, busy day, etc.

Exeunt all except YUSSUF and HEART‘S DESIRE.

DESIRE. So, if all goes ill, are you to marry Rose-in-Bloom
instead of me?
YUSSUF. Yes. Life seemed a poem; but as we read it by the light
of Hope, Fate crept behind us and blew out the lantern.
DESIRE (sighs). Rose-in-Bloom is very beautiful.
YUSSUF. What value has beauty to me when the whole world is
pitch-dark?
DESIRE. If she were not young and beautiful – if she were
middle-aged and quite plain – would you be just as
pleased?
YUSSUF. Just as displeased.
DESIRE. Are you sure? Absolutely certain?
YUSSUF. Yes. It makes no difference to me.
DESIRE. It would to me. It‘s beastly of me, I know – but it
would! But she is young and beautiful, and some day she
will light the lantern again, and you will go on
reading your poem, or another one that you think much
nicer.
YUSSUF. I think there is only one page of poetry in all the
book of a man‘s life.
DESIRE. Only one page, perhaps. But it may have a lot of poems
on it – little ones – all different. Your poetry page
is likely to be immense.
YUSSUF. Whatever it is, Fate is turning it over. The story is
finished – the Bazaar is empty – the lights put out – and you and I must go out into the darkness.
DESIRE. But not hand-in-hand.

SONG. – YUSSUF.

Our tale is told,
And now is growing old!
For Fate, who holds the book
Of childhood, youth, and age,
Her finger now doth crook
To turn another page.
Try to forget –
Although a soft regret
Like some poor faded rose-leaf life
(To mark the place)
Within the book where thou and I
Have read one passage full of grace!
Try to forget!
The desert‘s wide –
And we must mount and ride!
Each with a caravan
That‘s laden with our sighs;
To barter, if we can,
Our loads in Paradise.
Try to forget!
Our caravans have met
Amid the burning desert space,
Where thou and I
Have rested in a shady place
A little while, and then passed by!
Try to forget!

Exit YUSSUF, leaving HEART‘S DESIRE. Enter ROSE-IN-BLOOM.

ROSE. Heart‘s Desire, I have been summoned to the ceremony of
my divorce and disgrace! How am I looking?
DESIRE. Are you ready for your wedding with my Story-Teller?
ROSE. Cannot you do anything to save me?
DESIRE. I wish I could. I tried to tell the Sultan that it was
only myself impersonating you at Hassan‘s house, but he
wouldn‘t listen.

Enter BLUSH-OF-MORNING.

ROSE. He might later on – if we could only put it off.

Enter SCENT-OF-LILIES, then HONEY-OF-LIFE.

BLUSH. Oh, which one of you is the Sultana?
ROSE. I am – for a minute or two longer.
BLUSH. Well, Dancing Sunbeam says you left off being Sultana
half an hour ago, when she came. And she wants to know
if it is true that a message has just been sent to the
Sultana, and, if so, why it was not brought to her!
HONEY. The Sultan did say she was to be treated as Sultana.
SCENT. Do you thing we could manage? – DESIRE. Yes. Yussuf said he wouldn‘t mind if she were middle-
aged and plain, and I‘m bound to believe him; and it
would comfort me.
SCENT. Here she comes! (Drums.)
HONEY. And here‘s the Executioner!
DESIRE (to ROSE). Run back – to the eastern door. She shall
take your place.

Exit ROSE-IN-BLOOM. Enter DANCING SUNBEAM.

SUNBEAM. Are you not aware that I am Sultana – and that it was
I who should have been summoned to this ceremony,
whatever it is?
BLUSH. They understand now. They made a mistake.
SCENT, HONEY, and DESIRE. We apologize.
SUNBEAM. Well, well, you can enlighten me on a small point of
etiquette that, curiously enough, I am ignorant of.
Should I be veiled, or not, for this ceremony?
SCENT. Of course.
DESIRE. It is most important!
HONEY. There will be men present – horrid men! Don‘t you know
that the Queen‘s face must never be seen by any man but
the Sultan? (They begin arranging the veil.)
SUNBEAM. Men are absurdly jealous!
BLUSH. But what is the ceremony?
SUNBEAM. I have an idea that I am to be publicly acknowledged
Queen. In a few minutes you will see me attain the
summit of even my Ararat of ambition!

She is veiled – the GIRLS twist her round, humming:

GIRLS. Giddy girl this way, giddy girl that,
Say if the world be round or flat!
Say if the world be upside down!
Which will you marry, a King or a Clown?

Exeunt HONEY-OF-LIFE and HEART‘S DESIRE. Enter EXECUTIONER
(followed by a ROYAL GUARD).

EXEC. Is the Sultana here?
SUNBEAM. I am she.
SCENT (going to him). Yes, that is she!
EXEC. When I have pronounced the decree your veil will be
removed, that all and sundry, high and low, may gaze
upon your beauty.
SUNBEAM. A very good idea.
SCENT (to EXECUTIONER). You have never seen the Sultana‘s
face, have you?
EXEC. No man has, except the Sultan. You ought to know that.
SCENT. The reason I mention it is, if you had, you will find
her greatly changed. The anxiety she has gone through
during the last half-hour has added at least twenty-
five years to her appearance; even her voice has turned
into a contralto. (Exit.)
EXEC. Bring in the Story-Teller. (Enter YUSSUF.) I am going
to pronounce the decree.
SUNBEAM. Don‘t waste any more time. (The EXECUTIONER unfolds a
scroll.)
EXEC. By the decree of the Sultan, I pronounce you divorced – eternally disgraced – and married to this vagabond.
Remove your veil – take twopence from the poor-box – go in peace – I have spoken.

The veil is removed – Picture.

SUNBEAM. What did you say? }
BLUSH. What did it mean? } (together.)
YUSSUF. Married to her? }
EXEC. The thing‘s quite plain.
YUSSUF. It is. And middle-aged. This is what Heart‘s Desire
meant.
EXEC. You‘re married. It‘s all over. Now it‘s over, I don‘t
mind acknowledging I‘m sorry for both of you. I‘ve
never felt any qualms at executing anybody; but
marrying ‚em is different. I‘m not a marrying man.
Scent-of-Lilies says I am – but I‘m not. It upsets me.
(Exit.)

RECITATIVE and QUARTET. – BLUSH-OF-MORNING, DANCING SUNBEAM,
YUSSUF, and a ROYAL GUARD.

BLUSH-OF-MORNING, DANCING SUNBEAM, and YUSSUF.
What does it mean?
YUSSUF. Upon what hidden trap
Have I now stumbled?
SUNBEAM. One moment Queen
Then comes a thunderclap
TRIO. And I lie humbled!
YUSSUF. So surely swings the pendulum of Fate
That maketh joy and sorrow alternate.

QUARTET. Joy and sorrow alternate:
Every hour that passeth by
Till tomorrow fickle Fate
May ordain you laugh or cry!
So the clock that strikes the time
Rings at first a merry chime;
Then, to mock the marriage bell,
Tolls a melancholy knell!
Or the melancholy gong
Tolls a solitary „Dong!“
A Dong! Dong! Dong!
Then you hear the joy-bells ring,
Ring-a-ding-a-dong-a-dong!
So the clock doth indicate
Joy and sorrow alternate!
Ding! dong! Ding! dong!

Exeunt YUSSUF, SOLDIER, and BLUSH-OF-MORNING. Enter SCENT-OF-
LILIES, followed by HEART‘S DESIRE, followed by VIZIER – all
excitedly.

SCENT. Stop the marriage!
DESIRE. Don‘t go on with it!
VIZIER. Delay the wedding!
THREE (together). Where‘s the Executioner?

Enter EXECUTIONER.

EXEC. Here! (He brings on HASSAN.) The wedding is over.
VIZIER. Over! But the Sultan has relented!
SCENT. And is going to give the Sultana the chance of an
explanation. (SUNBEAM looks up.)

Enter PHYSICIAN and SULTAN.

PHYS. O King, you are too late!
SULTAN (to EXECUTIONER). Dog, what have you done?
SUNBEAM (to HASSAN). An explanation! It‘s high time I had an
explanation from you! How dare you let this brute
divorce me and marry me to a wretched Story-Teller?
HASSAN (to EXECUTIONER). Have you divorced her and married her
to someone else?
EXEC. Yes. It went against the grain – I‘m not a marrying
man!
HASSAN (taking his hand). I don‘t know why you have done it,
but let me thank you for lightening the gloom of my
declining moments.
SULTAN. Is it you who have been married?
SUNBEAM. Who else? Have you had a hand in it?
SULTAN. My dear Executioner, you‘ve made a mistake.
EXEC. Yes, O King! I‘ve always looked on marriage as unlucky.
SCENT. Nonsense!
EXEC. Shall I execute myself at once – or wait till I‘ve
finished this?
HASSAN. Don‘t wait for me.
SULTAN. You‘ve married the wrong woman! That‘s all. I‘m very
pleased. I‘ll see about restoring this lady to her
proper husband when I have time.
HASSAN. Not during the next five minutes. I am to be beheaded
in five minutes. Wait till after that!
SULTAN. Very well!
SUNBEAM (to HASSAN). Do you mean to say you‘re not the Sultan?
HASSAN. Go and talk to your husband.

Exit SUNBEAM. Enter ABDALLAH.

DESIRE. O King, hear me now. It was I who was at this man‘s
house. It was I who wore the Sultana‘s Royal Ring, and
showed it to the Priest. It was I who called myself
Sultana. Ask him.
SULTAN. Is this so?
ABDALLAH. It was even so. Is not this Rose-in-Bloom? (Indicates
HEART‘S DESIRE.)
SULTAN. Then Rose-in-Bloom is innocent – and has been falsely
accused! (To ABDALLAH.) You shall die!
HASSAN. Another three minutes and it would have been too late
for me, O King. I suppose you will have to go through
the form of granting me the usual free pardon for what
I never did!
SULTAN. Pardon you! No, indeed! You distinctly said my Royal
Rose-in-Bloom did visit you, Dog! and so besmirched her
Royal character with calumny. You shall die! And this
slave who brought the name of Rose-in-Bloom into such
contempt, she shall die! You shall all die – you and
the Priest and the slave! I have spoken.

Enter HONEY-OF-LIFE.

HONEY. The Royal Rose-in-Bloom approaches!
VIZIER. Let all men turn away their faces. (Men turn their
backs. Enter ROSE-IN-BLOOM.)
ROSE. Let my slave live, O husband! Just to please me!
SULTAN. Have you any reason why this girl should not be
executed?
ROSE. Yes, indeed! She – the fact is – she – (to HEART‘S
DESIRE) – say something!
DESIRE. O King, the Sultana is much given to letting me tell
stories for her amusement. She is much interested in a
story I am engaged in telling her now.
ROSE. Yes, that‘s it! She has been telling such a lovely
story for me – and I do want to know that it ends
happily!
SULTAN. Very well. She shall live until she has finished her
story. Is it a very interesting story, and original?
DESIRE. Yes, O King.
SULTAN. Where did you get it from?
HASSAN. From me, that‘s why she has been in the habit of
visiting me. I am telling it to her in instalments. I
merely mention this because if I am executed I sha‘n‘t
be able to finish it to her, and she won‘t be able to
finish it to the Sultana. That‘s all. It‘s quite
immaterial to me.
SULTAN. You shall be spared till the story is finished. Is it
funny?
HASSAN. Excruciating!
SULTAN. And has a happy ending?
HASSAN. A happy ending! It has a dozen!
SULTAN. I will return in three minutes and listen to it myself.
Come, Rose-in-Bloom. (To HASSAN.) You are sure it has a
happy finish? I abominate unhappy endings.

Exeunt all except HASSAN, ABDALLAH, HONEY-OF-LIFE, and HEART‘S
DESIRE.

HASSAN. So do I. But I don‘t think I am going to have one after
all.
DESIRE. Why, all we have to do is think of a story that‘s so
interesting and funny and long, that we can go on
telling it for years and years without boring the
Sultan, and we shall be all right.
HONEY. Yes, that‘s all you have to think of – in three
minutes.
HASSAN. Two and a half now!
ABDALLAH. Tell the Sultan you get your story in instalments from
me – and I will help you – think of one.
HASSAN. And give me back my will?
ABDALLAH. Yes. (Hands document, which HASSAN tears up).
HASSAN. Very well. Now out with your story!
ABDALLAH. I haven‘t thought of one yet.
HASSAN. I‘ve got as far as that! (Enter EXECUTIONER and SCENT-
OF-LILIES.) Do you know any good stories?
EXEC. What?
HASSAN. Can you tell me anything interesting, but funny, that
has ever happened to you, that it would take a long
time to repeat?
EXEC. The funniest thing that has ever happened to me has
happened just now. Scent-of-Lilies has persuaded me to
propose to her, and I‘ve been accepted!
HASSAN. And now I suppose you can think of nothing else?
EXEC. Nothing else. I‘m dazed! (Exit.)
SCENT. He is so happy. (Following him.)
HASSAN (detaining her.) Then let him alone and stay here and
help me think of a funny story – that will do for the
Sultan.

Enter YUSSUF, followed by DANCING SUNBEAM.

HASSAN (to YUSSUF). The very man! I want a very long,
interesting, funny story at once – to save my life
with. Can you help me?
YUSSUF. No: I can think of nothing now but my marriage with
your wife.
HASSAN. How abominably selfish young newly-married couples are!
SUNBEAM. I will help you. The Sultan said he would rectify this
absurd marriage. And if he does, I shall want to come
back to you.
HASSAN. Do you know, I‘m not so sure it‘s worth while to bother
about a story at all. I really begin to think it‘s
better to let the law take it‘s course.
SUNBEAM. Think of me, dear!
HASSAN. I am!
DESIRE (jumping up). Oh, I‘ve just thought – no, that won‘t
do for the Sultan!
HASSAN. Once upon a time – no, that won‘t do for the Sultan!
SUNBEAM. Listen! Do you think this will do – I‘m sure no one
has heard it before.
HASSAN. I suppose it‘s only some silly bit of scandal – or we
shouldn‘t hear it now.

SEPTET. – SCENT-OF-LILIES, HONEY-OF-LIFE, HEART‘S DESIRE,
DANCING SUNBEAM, YUSSUF, HASSAN, and ABDALLAH.

SUNBEAM. It has reached me a Lady named Hubbard
Proceeded one day to her cupboard,
And openly went
With intent to present
Her poor dog with a bone from her cupboard.
SCENT. And the dog of that person named Hubbard
Accompanied her to the cupboard;
But when they got there
They were plunged in despair – There was nothing at all in the cupboard!
ALL. There was nothing whatever at all in the cupboard!
SCENT. Have you heard of that harrowing story?
HONEY. I have – it‘s in my category!
YUSSUF. And I!
DESIRE. So have I!
ABDALLAH. So have I!
HASSAN. So have I!
ALL. It‘s a horribly harrowing story!
So that won‘t do for the Sultan
To make him rejoice and exult! An
Unfortunate end
Will his temper offend
So that won‘t do for the Sultan!

DESIRE. It is said a young lady named Muffet
(Selecting a seat on a tuffet)
Was breaking her fast
With a modest repast
When she suddenly fled from the tuffet!
HONEY. She spied a she-spider beside her!
The spider beside her espied her!
Beside herself she
Would undoubtedly be
Having spied a big spider beside her!
ALL. Having spied a big spider beside her!
SUNBEAM. Have you heard of that horrible story?
DESIRE. I have – it‘s in my category!
YUSSUF. And I!
SCENT. So have I!
ABDALLAH. So have I!
HASSAN. So have I!
ALL. It‘s a horribly harrowing story!
So that won‘t do for the Sultan, etc.

YUSSUF. Have you heard of the „Hey-diddle-diddle,“
That quaint zoological riddle,
The cat they accuse
Of invoking her „mews“
On a stringed instrument called a fiddle?
HASSAN. At the cow, who was not an inert one,
The little dog laughed (what a pert one!);
But oh, it is feared
That the dish disappeared
With the tablespoon or the dessert one!
ALL. With the tablespoon or the dessert one!
SUNBEAM. Have you heard of that horrible story?
DESIRE. I have – it‘s in my category!
YUSSUF. And I!
SCENT. So have I!
ABDALLAH. So have I!
HASSAN. So have I!
ALL. It‘s a horribly harrowing story!
So that won‘t do for the Sultan, etc.

As they are thinking of another tale, enter VIZIER, PHYSICIAN,
and EXECUTIONER.

SCENE.

VIZIER. Hassan, the Sultan with his Court approaches!
All looking forward to your story!
PHYSICIAN. I trust the Sultan won‘t be disappointed – EXECUTIONER. For that means your execution!

Enter CHORUS.

CHORUS. Comes the King and all his Court
Anxious to be testing
If your story be the sort
Tale that‘s interesting.
If you‘ve not yet got a plot
He won‘t think you‘re jesting,
You will perish on the spot,
Now isn‘t that interesting!

The SULTAN enters.

VIZIER. The royal Rose-in-Bloom unveiled approaches,
Let all men turn respectful backs upon her!

ROSE-IN-BLOOM enters and goes to SULTAN.

SULTAN. Now, Hassan, we are ready for your story!
Remember, though the plot may not allow it,
I do command it have a happy ending – begin!
begin!
HASSAN (nervously). Ahem!
SULTAN. Commence – I am impatient!
HASSAN (nervously). Ahem!
SULTAN. Go on!

BLUSH-OF-MORNING whispers to HASSAN.

HASSAN (aside). Ah! Happy thought! I‘ll try it!

SONG. – HASSAN.

There was once a small Street Arab,
And perhaps his little name was Tom;
And he lived in Gutter-Persia
Where street arabs rightly all come from;
And like little Gutter-Persians
(Every one and one and all)
His young spirits were elastic
As an India-rubber ball!
CHORUS. His young spirits were elastic as a ball!
HASSAN. And all day long he sang a song
A merry little ditty as he danced
a cellar-flap:
„The life I lead is all I need,
I know no better“ – the lucky little chap!
CHORUS. The life I lead, etc.

HASSAN. Now among the bricks and mortar
Did his wretched little lifetime pass;
He had never seen a flower
Or a single, simple blade of grass;
But one day he found a daisy,
And he thought that simple thing
Was a wondrous flower from heaven,
And he took it to the King.
CHORUS. And he took that simple daisy to the King.
HASSAN. He meant no wrong, and through the throng
He struggled to the Sultan and then
laid it on his lap;
(That simple weed – he did indeed),
He knew no better – the stupid little chap!
CHORUS. That simple weed, etc.

HASSAN. But the Sultan gravely thanked him, saying
„Would that would that I were wise
Enough to take a daisy
For a lovely flower from Paradise!
But I will not now reward thee,
Or exchange thy simple lot
For great riches would but rob thee
Of a wealth that I have not!“
CHORUS. Would but rob thee of a wealth that I have not!
HASSAN. So all day long he sang his song
A merry little ditty as he danced
a cellar-flap:
„The life I lead is all I need!“
He knew no better – the lucky little chap!
CHORUS. The life I lead, etc.

SULTAN. Is the story finished?
HASSAN. That is only the beginning, O King. That little boy was
myself – and the Sultan was your father – and the
story I have been telling to the slave, which she has
been telling to the Sultana, is the story of my own
life – and, O King, this is the point: you have
yourself commanded that the story – which is my life – is to have a happy ending.
SULTAN. By the beard of my grandfather, you have played an odd
trick upon me!
HASSAN. It is the odd trick, O King, that wins the game!
SULTAN. But not the rubber. Take back your wife – I restore
her to you. (Handing SUNBEAM to him.) I fancy that‘s
the rub.
HASSAN. Yes, you‘ve won. (YUSSUF joins HEART‘S DESIRE.)

FINALE OF ACT II.

ALL. A bridal march
The funeral dirge becomes!
Let heaven‘s arch
Re-echo the band of drum!
O happy pairs
United this afternoon
We greet you one and all
Both great and small
With popular Persian tune!
Oh, raise your voice
In epithalamiums!
O King rejoice,
And Tale-Teller of the slums!
To high or low
True love is an equal boon,
There‘s no one here too base
To find a place
In popular Persian tune!
Illalah! Illalah!

End of Opera.

Zur Übersicht zurück

Ruddigore

or: The Witch‘s Curse

Dramatis Personae:

MORTALS

SIR RUTHVEN MURGATROYD (disguised as Robin Oakapple, a Young Farmer)
RICHARD DAUNTLESS (his Foster-Brother, a Man-o‘-war‘s man)
SIR DESPARD MURGATROYD, OF RUDDIGORE (a Wicked Baronet)
OLD ADAM GOODHEART (Robin‘s Faithful Servant)
ROSE MAYBUD (a Village Maiden)
MAD MARGARET
DAME HANNAH (Rose‘s Aunt)
ZORAH and RUTH (Professional Bridesmaids)

GHOSTS

SIR RUPERT MURGATROYD (the First Baronet)
SIR JASPER MURGATROYD (the Third Baronet)
SIR LIONEL MURGATROYD (the Sixth Baronet)
SIR CONRAD MURGATROYD (the Twelfth Baronet)
SIR DESMOND MURGATROYD (the Sixteenth Baronet)
SIR GILBERT MURGATROYD (the Eighteenth Baronet)
SIR MERVYN MURGATROYD (the Twentieth Baronet)
and SIR RODERIC MURGATROYD (the Twenty-first Baronet)

Chorus of Officers, Ancestors, Professional Bridesmaids, and Villagers

ACT I– The Fishing Village of Rederring, in Cornwall

ACT II – The Picture Gallery in Ruddigore Castle

TIME Early in the 19th Century

ACT I

SCENE. The fishing village of Rederring (in Cornwall).
Rose Maybud‘s cottage is seen L.

Enter Chorus of Bridesmaids. They range themselves in front of
Rose‘s cottage.

CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS.

Fair is Rose as bright May-day;
Soft is Rose as the warm west-wind;
Sweet is Rose as the new-mown hay –
Rose is queen of maiden-kind!
Rose, all glowing
With virgin blushes, say –
Is anybody going
To marry you to-day?

SOLO – ZORAH.

Every day, as the days roll on,
Bridesmaids‘ garb we gaily don,
Sure that a maid so fairly famed
Can‘t long remain unclaimed.
Hour by hour and day by day,
Several months have passed away,
Though she‘s the fairest flower that blows,
No one has married Rose!

CHORUS.

Rose, all glowing
With virgin blushes, say –
Is anybody going
To marry you to-day?

ZORAH. Hour by hour and day by day,
Months have passed away.

CHORUS. Fair is Rose as bright Mayday, etc.

(Enter Dame Hannah, from cottage.)

HANNAH. Nay, gentle maidens, you sing well but vainly, for
Rose is still heart-free, and looks but coldly upon her many
suitors.
ZORAH. It‘s very disappointing. Every young man in the
village is in love with her, but they are appalled by her beauty
and modesty, and won‘t declare themselves; so, until she makes
her own choice, there‘s no chance for anybody else.
RUTH. This is, perhaps, the only village in the world that
possesses an endowed corps of professional bridesmaids who are
bound to be on duty every day from ten to four – and it is at
least six months since our services were required. The pious
charity by which we exist is practically wasted!
ZOR. We shall be disendowed – that will be the end of it!
Dame Hannah – you‘re a nice old person – you could marry if you
liked. There‘s old Adam – Robin‘s faithful servant – he loves you
with all the frenzy of a boy of fourteen.
HAN. Nay – that may never be, for I am pledged!
ALL. To whom?
HAN. To an eternal maidenhood! Many years ago I was
betrothed to a god-like youth who woo‘d me under an assumed name.
But on the very day upon which our wedding was to have been
celebrated, I discovered that he was no other than Sir Roderic
Murgatroyd, one of the bad Baronets of Ruddigore, and the uncle
of the man who now bears that title. As a son of that accursed
race he was no husband for an honest girl, so, madly as I loved
him, I left him then and there. He died but ten years since, but
I never saw him again.
ZOR. But why should you not marry a bad Baronet of
Ruddigore?
RUTH. All baronets are bad; but was he worse than other
baronets?
HAN. My child, he was accursed.
ZOR. But who cursed him? Not you, I trust!
HAN. The curse is on all his line and has been, ever since
the time of Sir Rupert, the first Baronet. Listen, and you shall
hear the legend:

LEGEND – HANNAH.

Sir Rupert Murgatroyd
His leisure and his riches
He ruthlessly employed
In persecuting witches.
With fear he‘d make them quake –
He‘d duck them in his lake –
He‘d break their bones
With sticks and stones,
And burn them at the stake!

CHORUS. This sport he much enjoyed,
Did Rupert Murgatroyd –
No sense of shame
Or pity came
To Rupert Murgatroyd!

Once, on the village green,
A palsied hag he roasted,
And what took place, I ween,
Shook his composure boasted;
For, as the torture grim
Seized on each withered limb,
The writhing dame
`Mid fire and flame
Yelled forth this curse on him:

„Each lord of Ruddigore,
Despite his best endeavour,
Shall do one crime, or more,
Once, every day, for ever!
This doom he can‘t defy,
However he may try,
For should he stay
His hand, that day
In torture he shall die!“

The prophecy came true:
Each heir who held the title
Had, every day, to do
Some crime of import vital;
Until, with guilt o‘erplied,
„I‘ll Sin no more!“ he cried,
And on the day
He said that say,
In agony he died!

CHORUS. And thus, with sinning cloyed,
Has died each Murgatroyd,
And so shall fall,
Both one and all,
Each coming Murgatroyd!

(Exeunt Chorus of Bridesmaids.)

(Enter Rose Maybud from cottage, with small basket on her arm.)

HAN. Whither away, dear Rose? On some errand of charity,
as is thy wont?
ROSE. A few gifts, dear aunt, for deserving villagers. Lo,
here is some peppermint rock for old gaffer Gadderby, a set of
false teeth for pretty little Ruth Rowbottom, and a pound of
snuff for the poor orphan girl on the hill.
HAN. Ah, Rose, pity that so much goodness should not help
to make some gallant youth happy for life! Rose, why dost thou
harden that little heart of thine? Is there none hereaway whom
thou couldst love?
ROSE. And if there were such an one, verily it would ill
become me to tell him so.
HAN. Nay, dear one, where true love is, there is little
need of prim formality.
ROSE. Hush, dear aunt, for thy words pain me sorely. Hung
in a plated dish-cover to the knocker of the workhouse door, with
naught that I could call mine own, save a change of baby-linen
and a book of etiquette, little wonder if I have always regarded
that work as a voice from a parent‘s tomb. This hallowed volume
(producing a book of etiquette), composed, if I may believe the
title-page, by no less an authority than the wife of a Lord
Mayor, has been, through life, my guide and monitor. By its
solemn precepts I have learnt to test the moral worth of all who
approach me. The man who bites his bread, or eats peas with a
knife, I look upon as a lost creature, and he who has not
acquired the proper way of entering and leaving a room is the
object of my pitying horror. There are those in this village who
bite their nails, dear aunt, and nearly all are wont to use their
pocket combs in public places. In truth I could pursue this
painful theme much further, but behold, I have said enough.
HAN. But is there not one among them who is faultless, in
thine eyes? For example – young Robin. He combines the manners
of a Marquis with the morals of a Methodist. Couldst thou not
love him?
ROSE. And even if I could, how should I confess it unto
him? For lo, he is shy, and sayeth naught!

BALLAD – ROSE.

If somebody there chanced to be
Who loved me in a manner true,
My heart would point him out to me,
And I would point him out to you.
(Referring But here it says of those who point –
to book.) Their manners must be out of joint –
You may not point –
You must not point –
It‘s manners out of joint, to point!

Ah! Had I the love of such as he,
Some quiet spot he‘d take me to,
Then he could whisper it to me,
And I could whisper it to you.
(Referring But whispering, I‘ve somewhere met,
to book.) Is contrary to etiquette:
Where can it be (Searching book.)
Now let me see – (Finding reference.)
Yes, yes!
It‘s contrary to etiquette!

(Showing it to Dame Hannah.)

If any well-bred youth I knew,
Polite and gentle, neat and trim,
Then I would hint as much to you,
And you could hint as much to him.
(Referring But here it says, in plainest print,
to book.) „It‘s most unladylike to hint“ –
You may not hint,
You must not hint –
It says you mustn‘t hint, in print!

Ah! And if I loved him through and through –
(True love and not a passing whim),
Then I could speak of it to you,
And you could speak of it to him.
(Referring But here I find it doesn‘t do
to book.) To speak until you‘re spoken to.
Where can it be? (Searching book.)
Now let me see – (Finding reference.)
Yes, yes!
„Don‘t speak until you‘re spoken to!“
(Exit Dame Hannah.)

ROSE. Poor aunt! Little did the good soul think, when she
breathed the hallowed name of Robin, that he would do even as
well as another. But he resembleth all the youths in this
village, in that he is unduly bashful in my presence, and lo, it
is hard to bring him to the point. But soft, he is here!

(Rose is about to go when Robin enters and calls her.)

ROBIN. Mistress Rose!
ROSE. (Surprised.) Master Robin!
ROB. I wished to say that – it is fine.
ROSE. It is passing fine.
ROB. But we do want rain.
ROSE. Aye, sorely! Is that all?
ROB. (Sighing.) That is all.
ROSE. Good day, Master Robin!
ROB. Good day, Mistress Rose! (Both going – both stop.)
ROSE. I crave pardon, I –
ROB. I beg pardon, I –
ROSE. You were about to say? –
ROB. I would fain consult you –
ROSE. Truly?
ROB. It is about a friend.
ROSE. In truth I have a friend myself.
ROB. Indeed? I mean, of course –
ROSE. And I would fain consult you –
ROB. (Anxiously.) About him?
ROSE. (Prudishly.) About her.
ROB. (Relieved.) Let us consult one another.

DUET-ROBIN and ROSE

ROB. I know a youth who loves a little maid –
(Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!)
Silent is he, for he‘s modest and afraid –
(Hey, but he‘s timid as a youth can be!)

ROSE. I know a maid who loves a gallant youth,
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
She cannot tell him all the sad, sad truth –
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)

ROB. Poor little man!

ROSE. Poor little maid!

ROB. Poor little man!

ROSE. Poor little maid!

BOTH. Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the (young man\maiden) do?

ROB. He cannot eat and he cannot sleep –
(Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!)
Daily he goes for to wail – for to weep –
(Hey, but he‘s wretched as a youth can be!)

ROSE. She‘s very thin and she‘s very pale –
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
Daily she goes for to weep – for to wail –
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)

ROB. Poor little maid!

ROSE. Poor little man!

ROB. Poor little maid!

ROSE. Poor little man!

BOTH. Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the (young man\maiden) do?

ROSE. If I were the youth I should offer her my name –
(Hey, but her face is a sight for to see!)

ROB. If were the maid I should fan his honest flame –
(Hey, but he‘s bashful as a youth can be!)

ROSE. If I were the youth I should speak to her to-day –
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)

ROB. If I were the maid I should meet the lad half way –
(For I really do believe that timid youth will
die!)

ROSE. Poor little man!

ROB. Poor little maid!

ROSE. Poor little man!

ROB. Poor little maid!

BOTH. I thank you, (miss\sir), for your counsel true;
I‘ll tell that (youth\maid) what (he\she) ought to
do!
(Exit ROSE.)

ROB. Poor child! I sometimes think that if she wasn‘t
quite so particular I might venture – but no, no – even then I
should be unworthy of her!

(He sit desponding. Enter Old Adam.)

ADAM. My kind master is sad! Dear Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd –
ROB. Hush! As you love me, breathe not that hated name.
Twenty years ago, in horror at the prospect of inheriting that
hideous title, and with it the ban that compels all who succeed
to the baronetcy to commit at least one deadly crime per day, for
life, I fled my home, and concealed myself in this innocent
village under the name of Robin Oakapple. My younger brother,
Despard, believing me to be dead, succeeded to the title and its
attendant curse. For twenty years I have been dead and buried.
Don‘t dig me up now.
ADAM. Dear master, it shall be as you wish, for have I not
sworn to obey you for ever in all things? Yet, as we are here
alone, and as I belong to that particular description of good old
man to whom the truth is a refreshing novelty, let me call you by
your own right title once more! (Robin assents.) Sir Ruthven
Murgatroyd! Baronet! Of Ruddigore! Whew! It‘s like eight
hours at the seaside!
ROB. My poor old friend! Would there were more like you!
ADAM. Would there were indeed! But I bring you good
tidings. Your foster-brother, Richard, has returned from
sea – his ship the Tom-Tit rides yonder at anchor, and he himself
is even now in this very village!
ROB. My beloved foster-brother? No, no – it cannot be!
ADAM. It is even so – and see, he comes this way!
(Exeunt together.)

(Enter Chorus of Bridesmaids.)

CHORUS.

From the briny sea
Comes young Richard, all victorious!
Valorous is he –
His achievements all are glorious!
Let the welkin ring
With the news we bring
Sing it – shout it –
Tell about it –
Safe and sound returneth he,
All victorious from the sea!

(Enter Richard. The girls welcome him as he greets old
acquaintances.)

BALLAD – RICHARD.

I shipped, d‘ye see, in a Revenue sloop,
And, off Cape Finistere,
A merchantman we see,
A Frenchman, going free,
So we made for the bold Mounseer,
D‘ye see?
We made for the bold Mounseer.

CHORUS. So we made for the bold Mounseer,
D‘ye see?
We made for the bold Mounseer.

But she proved to be a Frigate – and she up with her
ports,
And fires with a thirty-two!
It come uncommon near,
But we answered with a cheer,
Which paralysed the Parley-voo,
D‘ye see?
Which paralysed the Parley-voo!

CHORUS. Which paralysed the Parley-voo,
D‘ye see?
Which paralysed the Parley-voo!

Then our Captain he up and he says, says he,
„That chap we need not fear, –
We can take her, if we like,
She is sartin for to strike,
For she‘s only a darned Mounseer,
D‘ye see?
She‘s only a darned Mounseer!“

CHORUS. For she‘s only a darned Mounseer,
D‘ye see?
She‘s only a darned Mounseer!

„But to fight a French fal-lal – it‘s like hittin‘ of a
gal!
It‘s a lubberly thing for to do;
For we, with all our faults,
Why, we‘re sturdy British salts,
While she‘s only a Parley-voo,
D‘ye see?
While she‘s only a poor Parley-voo!“

CHORUS. While she‘s only a Parley-voo,
D‘ye see?
While she‘s only a poor Parley-voo!‘

So we up with our helm, and we scuds before the breeze
As we gives a compassionating cheer;
Froggee answers with a shout
As he sees us go about,
Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer,
D‘ye see?
Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer!

CHORUS. Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer,
D‘ye see?
Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer!

And I‘ll wager in their joy they kissed each other‘s
cheek
(Which is what them furriners do),
And they blessed their lucky stars
We were hardy British tars
Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo,
D‘ye see?
Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo!

CHORUS. Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo,
D‘ye see?
Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo!

(HORNPIPE.)
(Exeunt Chorus.)

(Enter Robin.)

ROB. Richard!
RICH. Robin!
ROB. My beloved foster-brother, and very dearest friend,
welcome home again after ten long years at sea! It is such deeds
as yours that cause our flag to be loved and dreaded throughout
the civilized world!
RICH. Why, lord love ye, Rob, that‘s but a trifle to what
we have done in the way of sparing life! I believe I may say,
without exaggeration, that the marciful little Tom-Tit has spared
more French frigates than any craft afloat! But ‚taint for a
British seaman to brag, so I‘ll just stow my jawin‘ tackle and
belay. (Robin sighs.) But ‚vast heavin‘, messmate, what‘s
brought you all a-cockbill?
ROB. Alas, Dick, I love Rose Maybud, and love in vain!
RICH. You love in vain? Come, that‘s too good! Why,
you‘re a fine strapping muscular young fellow – tall and strong as
a to‘-gall‘n‘-m‘st – taut as a forestay – aye, and a barrowknight
to boot, if all had their rights!
ROB. Hush, Richard – not a word about my true rank, which
none here suspect. Yes, I know well enough that few men are
better calculated to win a woman‘s heart than I. I‘m a fine
fellow, Dick, and worthy any woman‘s love – happy the girl who
gets me, say I. But I‘m timid, Dick; shy – nervous – modest –
retiring – diffident – and I cannot tell her, Dick, I cannot tell
her! Ah, you‘ve no idea what a poor opinion I have of myself,
and how little I deserve it.
RICH. Robin, do you call to mind how, years ago, we swore
that, come what might, we would always act upon our hearts‘
dictates?
ROB. Aye, Dick, and I‘ve always kept that oath. In doubt,
difficulty, and danger I‘ve always asked my heart what I should
do, and it has never failed me.
RICH. Right! Let your heart be your compass, with a clear
conscience for your binnacle light, and you‘ll sail ten knots on
a bowline, clear of shoals, rocks, and quicksands! Well, now,
what does my heart say in this here difficult situation? Why, it
says, „Dick,“ it says – (it calls me Dick acos it‘s known me from
a babby) – “Dick,“ it says, „you ain‘t shy – you ain‘t
modest – speak you up for him as is!“ Robin, my lad, just you lay
me alongside, and when she‘s becalmed under my lee, I‘ll spin her
a yarn that shall sarve to fish you two together for life!
ROB. Will you do this thing for me? Can you, do you think?
Yes (feeling his pulse). There‘s no false modesty about you.
Your – what I would call bumptious self-assertiveness (I mean the
expression in its complimentary sense) has already made you a
bos‘n‘s mate, and it will make an admiral of you in time, if you
work it properly, you dear, incompetent old impostor! My dear
fellow, I‘d give my right arm for one tenth of your modest
assurance!

SONG – ROBIN.

My boy, you may take it from me,
That of all the afflictions accurst
With which a man‘s saddled
And hampered and addled,
A diffident nature‘s the worst.
Though clever as clever can be –
A Crichton of early romance –
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven‘t a chance!

If you wish in the world to advance,
Your merits you‘re bound to enhance,
You must stir it and stump it,
And blow your own trumpet,
Or, trust me, you haven‘t a chance!

Now take, for example, my case:
I‘ve a bright intellectual brain –
In all London city
There‘s no one so witty –
I‘ve thought so again and again.
I‘ve a highly intelligent face –
My features cannot be denied –
But, whatever I try, sir,
I fail in – and why, sir?
I‘m modesty personified!

If you wish in the world to advance, etc.

As a poet, I‘m tender and quaint –
I‘ve passion and fervour and grace –
From Ovid and Horace
To Swinburne and Morris,
They all of them take a back place.
Then I sing and I play and I paint:
Though none are accomplished as I,
To say so were treason:
You ask me the reason?
I‘m diffident, modest, and shy!

If you wish in the world to advance, etc.

(Exit Robin.)

RICH. (looking after him). Ah, it‘s a thousand pities he‘s
such a poor opinion of himself, for a finer fellow don‘t walk!
Well, I‘ll do my best for him. „Plead for him as though it was
for your own father“ – that‘s what my heart‘s a-remarkin‘ to me
just now. But here she comes! Steady! Steady it is! (Enter
Rose – he is much struck by her.) By the Port Admiral, but she‘s
a tight little craft! Come, come, she‘s not for you, Dick, and
yet – she‘s fit to marry Lord Nelson! By the Flag of Old England,
I can‘t look at her unmoved.
ROSE. Sir, you are agitated –
RICH. Aye, aye, my lass, well said! I am agitated, true
enough! – took flat aback, my girl; but ‚tis naught – ‘twill pass.
(Aside.) This here heart of mine‘s a-dictatin‘ to me like
anythink. Question is, Have I a right to disregard its
promptings?
ROSE. Can I do aught to relieve thine anguish, for it
seemeth to me that thou art in sore trouble? This
apple – (offering a damaged apple).
RICH. (looking at it and returning it). No, my lass,
‚tain‘t that: I‘m – I‘m took flat aback – I never see anything like
you in all my born days. Parbuckle me, if you ain‘t the
loveliest gal I‘ve ever set eyes on. There – I can‘t say fairer
than that, can I?
ROSE. No. (Aside.) The question is, Is it meet that an
utter stranger should thus express himself? (Refers to book.)
Yes – “Always speak the truth.“
RICH. I‘d no thoughts of sayin‘ this here to you on my own
account, for, truth to tell, I was chartered by another; but when
I see you my heart it up and it says, says it, „This is the very
lass for you, Dick“ – “speak up to her, Dick,“ it says – (it calls
me Dick acos we was at school together) – “tell her all, Dick,“ it
says, „never sail under false colours – it‘s mean!“ That‘s what
my heart tells me to say, and in my rough, common-sailor fashion,
I‘ve said it, and I‘m a-waiting for your reply. I‘m a-tremblin‘,
miss. Lookye here – (holding out his hand). That‘s narvousness!
ROSE (aside). Now, how should a maiden deal with such an
one? (Consults book.) „Keep no one in unnecessary suspense.“
(Aloud.) Behold, I will not keep you in unnecessary suspense.
(Refers to book.) „In accepting an offer of marriage, do so with
apparent hesitation.“ (Aloud.) I take you, but with a certain
show of reluctance. (Refers to book.) „Avoid any appearance of
eagerness.“ (Aloud.) Though you will bear in mind that I am far
from anxious to do so. (Refers to book.) „A little show of
emotion will not be misplaced!“ (Aloud.) Pardon this tear!
(Wipes her eye.)
RICH. Rose, you‘ve made me the happiest blue-jacket in
England! I wouldn‘t change places with the Admiral of the Fleet,
no matter who he‘s a-huggin‘ of at this present moment! But,
axin‘ your pardon, miss (wiping his lips with his hand), might I
be permitted to salute the flag I‘m a-goin‘ to sail under?
ROSE (referring to book). „An engaged young lady should not
permit too many familiarities.“ (Aloud.) Once! (Richard kisses
her.)

DUET – RICHARD and ROSE.

RICH. The battle‘s roar is over,
O my love!
Embrace thy tender lover,
O my love!
From tempests‘ welter,
From war‘s alarms,
O give me shelter
Within those arms!
Thy smile alluring,
All heart-ache curing,
Gives peace enduring,
O my love!

ROSE. If heart both true and tender,
O my love!
A life-love can engender,
O my love!
A truce to sighing
And tears of brine,
For joy undying
Shall aye be mine,

BOTH. And thou and I, love,
Shall live and die, love,
Without a sigh, love –
My own, my love!

(Enter Robin, with Chorus of Bridesmaids.)

CHORUS.

If well his suit has sped,
Oh, may they soon be wed!
Oh, tell us, tell us, pray,
What doth the maiden say?
In singing are we justified,
Hall the Bridegroom – hail the Bride!
Let the nuptial knot be tied:
In fair phrases
Hymn their praises,
Hail the Bridegroom – hall the Bride?

ROB. Well – what news? Have you spoken to her?
RICH. Aye, my lad, I have – so to speak – spoke her.
ROB. And she refuses?
RICH. Why, no, I can‘t truly say she do.
ROB. Then she accepts! My darling! (Embraces her.)

BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the Bridegroom – hail the Bride! etc.

ROSE (aside, referring to her book). Now, what should a
maiden do when she is embraced by the wrong gentleman?
RICH. Belay, my lad, belay. You don‘t understand.
ROSE. Oh, sir, belay, I beseech you!
RICH. You see, it‘s like this: she accepts – but it‘s me!
ROB. You! (Richard embraces Rose.)

BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the Bridegroom – hail the Bride!
When the nuptial knot is tied –

ROB. (interrupting angrily). Hold your tongues, will you!
Now then, what does this mean?
RICH. My poor lad, my heart grieves for thee, but it‘s like
this: the moment I see her, and just as I was a-goin‘ to mention
your name, my heart it up and it says, says it – “Dick, you‘ve
fell in love with her yourself,“ it says; „be honest and
sailor-like – don‘t skulk under false colours – speak up,“ it says,
„take her, you dog, and with her my blessin‘!“

BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the Bridegroom – hail the bride –

ROB. Will you be quiet! Go away! (Chorus makes faces at
him and exeunt.) Vulgar girls!
RICH. What could I do? I‘m bound to obey my heart‘s
dictates.
ROB. Of course – no doubt. It‘s quite right – I don‘t
mind – that is, not particularly – only it‘s – it is disappointing,
you know.
ROSE (to Robin). Oh, but, sir, I knew not that thou didst
seek me in wedlock, or in very truth I should not have hearkened
unto this man, for behold, he is but a lowly mariner, and very
poor withal, whereas thou art a tiller of the land, and thou hast
fat oxen, and many sheep and swine, a considerable dairy farm and
much corn and oil!
RICH. That‘s true, my lass, but it‘s done now, ain‘t it,
Rob?
ROSE. Still it may be that I should not be happy in thy
love. I am passing young and little able to judge. Moreover, as
to thy character I know naught!
ROB. Nay, Rose, I‘ll answer for that. Dick has won thy
love fairly. Broken-hearted as I am, I‘ll stand up for Dick
through thick and thin!
RICH. (with emotion). Thankye, messmate! that‘s well said.
That‘s spoken honest. Thankye, Rob! (Grasps his hand.)
ROSE. Yet methinks I have heard that sailors are but
worldly men, and little prone to lead serious and thoughtful
lives!
ROB. And what then? Admit that Dick is not a steady
character, and that when he‘s excited he uses language that would
make your hair curl. Grant that – he does. It‘s the truth, and
I‘m not going to deny it. But look at his good qualities. He‘s
as nimble as a pony, and his hornpipe is the talk of the fleet!
RICH. Thankye, Rob! That‘s well spoken. Thankye, Rob!
ROSE. But it may be that he drinketh strong waters which do
bemuse a man, and make him even as the wild beasts of the desert!
ROB. Well, suppose he does, and I don‘t say he don‘t, for
rum‘s his bane, and ever has been. He does drink – I won‘t deny
it. But what of that? Look at his arms – tattooed to the
shoulder! (Rich. rolls up his sleeves.) No, no – I won‘t hear a
word against Dick!
ROSE. But they say that mariners are but rarely true to
those whom they profess to love!
ROB. Granted – granted – and I don‘t say that Dick isn‘t as
bad as any of ‚em. (Rich. chuckles.) You are, you know you are,
you dog! a devil of a fellow – a regular out-and-out Lothario!
But what then? You can‘t have everything, and a better hand at
turning-in a dead-eye don‘t walk a deck! And what an
accomplishment that is in a family man! No, no – not a word
against Dick. I‘ll stick up for him through thick and thin!
RICH. Thankye, Rob, thankye. You‘re a true friend. I‘ve
acted accordin‘ to my heart‘s dictates, and such orders as them
no man should disobey.

ENSEMBLE – RICHARD, ROBIN, and ROSE.

In sailing o‘er life‘s ocean wide
Your heart should be your only guide;
With summer sea and favouring wind,
Yourself in port you‘ll surely find.

SOLO – RICHARD.

My heart says, „To this maiden strike –
She‘s captured you.
She‘s just the sort of girl you like –
You know you do.
If other man her heart should gain,
I shall resign.“
That‘s what it says to me quite plain,
This heart of mine.

SOLO – ROBIN.

My heart says, „You‘ve a prosperous lot,
With acres wide;
You mean to settle all you‘ve got
Upon your bride.“
It don‘t pretend to shape my acts
By word or sign;
It merely states these simple facts,
This heart of mine!

SOLO – ROSE.

Ten minutes since my heart said „white“ –
It now says „black“.
It then said „left“ – it now says „right“ –
Hearts often tack.

I must obey its latest strain –
You tell me so. (To Richard.)
But should it change its mind again,
I‘ll let you know.

(Turning from Richard to Robin, who embraces her.)

ENSEMBLE.

In sailing o‘er life‘s ocean wide
No doubt the heart should be your guide;
But it is awkward when you find
A heart that does not know its mind!

(Exeunt Robin with Rose L., and Richard, weeping, R.)

(Enter Mad Margaret. She is wildly dressed in picturesque tatters,
and is an obvious caricature of theatrical madness.)

SCENA – MARGARET.

Cheerily carols the lark
Over the cot.
Merrily whistles the clerk
Scratching a blot.
But the lark
And the clerk,
I remark,
Comfort me not!

Over the ripening peach
Buzzes the bee.
Splash on the billowy beach
Tumbles the sea.
But the peach
And the beach
They are each
Nothing to me!
And why?
Who am I?
Daft Madge! Crazy Meg!
Mad Margaret! Poor Peg!
He! he! he! he! (chuckling).

Mad, I?
Yes, very!
But why?
Mystery!
Don‘t call!
Whisht! whisht!
No crime –
‚Tis only
That I‘m
Love-lonely!
That‘s all!

BALLAD – MARGARET.

To a garden full of posies
Cometh one to gather flowers,
And he wanders through its bowers
Toying with the wanton roses,
Who, uprising from their beds,
Hold on high their shameless heads
With their pretty lips a-pouting,
Never doubting – never doubting
That for Cytherean posies
He would gather aught but roses!

In a nest of weeds and nettles
Lay a violet, half-hidden,
Hoping that his glance unbidden
Yet might fall upon her petals.
Though she lived alone, apart,
Hope lay nestling at her heart,
But, alas, the cruel awaking
Set her little heart a-breaking,
For he gathered for his posies
Only roses – only roses!
(Bursts into tears.)

(Enter Rose.)

ROSE. A maiden, and in tears? Can I do aught to soften thy
sorrow? This apple – (offering apple).
MAR. (Examines it and rejects it.) No! (Mysteriously.)
Tell me, are you mad?
ROSE. I? No! That is, I think not.
MAR. That‘s well! Then you don‘t love Sir Despard
Murgatroyd? All mad girls love him. I love him. I‘m poor Mad
Margaret – Crazy Meg – Poor Peg! He! he! he! he! (chuckling).
ROSE. Thou lovest the bad Baronet of Ruddigore? Oh,
horrible – too horrible!
MAR. You pity me? Then be my mother! The squirrel had a
mother, but she drank and the squirrel fled! Hush! They sing a
brave song in our parts – it runs somewhat thus: (Sings.)

„The cat and the dog and the little puppee
Sat down in a – down in a – in a – –

I forget what they sat down in, but so the song goes!
Listen – I‘ve come to pinch her!
ROSE. Mercy, whom?
MAR. You mean „who“.
ROSE. Nay! it is the accusative after the verb.
MAR. True. (Whispers melodramatically.) I have come to
pinch Rose Maybud!
ROSE. (Aside, alarmed.) Rose Maybud!
MAR. Aye! I love him – he loved me once. But that‘s all
gone, fisht! He gave me an Italian glance – thus (business) – and
made me his. He will give her an Italian glance, and make her
his. But it shall not be, for I‘ll stamp on her – stamp on her – stamp on her! Did you ever kill anybody? No? Why not?
Listen – I killed a fly this morning! It buzzed, and I wouldn‘t
have it. So it died – pop! So shall she!
ROSE. But, behold, I am Rose Maybud, and I would fain not
die „pop.“
MAR. You are Rose Maybud?
ROSE. Yes, sweet Rose Maybud!
MAR. Strange! They told me she was beautiful! And he
loves you! No, no! If I thought that, I would treat you as the
auctioneer and land-agent treated the lady-bird – I would rend you
asunder!
ROSE. Nay, be pacified, for behold I am pledged to another,
and Lo, we are to be wedded this very day!
MAR. Swear me that! Come to a Commissioner and let me have
it on affidavit! I once made an affidavit – but it died – it died – it died! But see, they come – Sir Despard and his evil crew!
Hide, hide – they are all mad – quite mad!
ROSE. What makes you think that?
MAR. Hush! They sing choruses in public. That‘s mad
enough, I think. Go – hide away, or they will seize you! Hush!
Quite softly – quite, quite softly!
(Exeunt together, on tiptoe.)

(Enter Chorus of Bucks and Blades, heralded by Chorus of
Bridesmaids.)

CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS.

Welcome, gentry,
For your entry
Sets our tender hearts a-beating.
Men of station,
Admiration
Prompts this unaffected greeting.
Hearty greeting offer we!

CHORUS OF BUCKS AND BLADES.

When thoroughly tired
Of being admired,
By ladies of gentle degree – degree,
With flattery sated,
High-flown and inflated,
Away from the city we flee – we flee!
From charms intramural
To prettiness rural
The sudden transition
Is simply Elysian,
So come, Amaryllis,
Come, Chloe and Phyllis,
Your slaves, for the moment, are we!

ALL. From charms intramural, etc.

CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS.

The sons of the tillage
Who dwell in this village
Are people of lowly degree – degree.
Though honest and active,
They‘re most unattractive,
And awkward as awkward can be – can be.
They‘re clumsy clodhoppers
With axes and choppers,
And shepherds and ploughmen
And drovers and cowmen,
And hedgers and reapers
And carters and keepers,
But never a lover for me!

ENSEMBLE.

BRIDESMAIDS. BUCKS AND BLADES.

So welcome gentry, etc. When thoroughly tired, etc.

(Enter Sir Despard Murgatroyd.)

SONG AND CHORUS – SIR DESPARD.

SIR D. Oh, why am I moody and sad?
CH. Can‘t guess!
SIR D. And why am I guiltily mad?
CH. Confess!
SIR D. Because I am thoroughly bad!
CH. Oh yes –
SIR D. You‘ll see it at once in my face.
Oh, why am I husky and hoarse?
CH. Ah, why?
SIR D. It‘s the workings of conscience, of course.
CH. Fie, fie!
SIR D. And huskiness stands for remorse,
CH. Oh my!
SIR D. At least it does so in my case!
SIR D. When in crime one is fully employed –
CH. Like you –
SIR D. Your expression gets warped and destroyed:
CH. It do.
SIR D. It‘s a penalty none can avoid;
CH. How true!
SIR D. I once was a nice-looking youth;
But like stone from a strong catapult –
CH. (explaining to each other). A trice –
SIR D. I rushed at my terrible cult –
CH. (explaining to each other). That‘s vice –
SIR D. Observe the unpleasant result!
CH. Not nice.
SIR D. Indeed I am telling the truth!
SIR D. Oh, innocent, happy though poor!
CH. That‘s we –
SIR D. If I had been virtuous, I‘m sure –
CH. Like me –
SIR D. I should be as nice-looking as you‘re!
CH. May be.
SIR D. You are very nice-looking indeed!
Oh, innocents, listen in time –
CH. We doe,
SIR D. Avoid an existence of crime –
CH. Just so –
SIR D. Or you‘ll be as ugly as I‘m –
CH. (loudly). No! No!
SIR D. And now, if you please, we‘ll proceed.

(All the girls express their horror of Sir Despard. As he
approaches them they fly from him, terror-stricken, leaving
him alone on the stage.)

SIR D. Poor children, how they loathe me – me whose hands
are certainly steeped in infamy, but whose heart is as the heart
of a little child! But what is a poor baronet to do, when a
whole picture gallery of ancestors step down from their frames
and threaten him with an excruciating death if he hesitate to
commit his daily crime? But ha! ha! I am even with them!
(Mysteriously.) I get my crime over the first thing in the
morning, and then, ha! ha! for the rest of the day I do good – I
do good – I do good! (Melodramatically.) Two days since, I stole
a child and built an orphan asylum. Yesterday I robbed a bank
and endowed a bishopric. To-day I carry off Rose Maybud and
atone with a cathedral! This is what it is to be the sport and
toy of a Picture Gallery! But I will be bitterly revenged upon
them! I will give them all to the Nation, and nobody shall ever
look upon their faces again!

(Enter Richard.)

RICH. Ax your honour‘s pardon, but –
SIR D. Ha! observed! And by a mariner! What would you
with me, fellow?
RICH. Your honour, I‘m a poor man-o‘-war‘s-man, becalmed in
the doldrums –
SIR D. I don‘t know them.
RICH. And I make bold to ax your honour‘s advice. Does
your honour know what it is to have a heart?
SIR D. My honour knows what it is to have a complete
apparatus for conducting the circulation of the blood through the
veins and arteries of the human body.
RICH. Aye, but has your honour a heart that ups and looks
you in the face, and gives you quarter-deck orders that it‘s life
and death to disobey?
SIR D. I have not a heart of that description, but I have a
Picture Gallery that presumes to take that liberty.
RICH. Well, your honour, it‘s like this – Your honour had an
elder brother –
SIR D. It had.
RICH. Who should have inherited your title and, with it,
its cuss.
SIR D. Aye, but he died. Oh, Ruthven! –
RICH. He didn‘t.
SIR D. He did not?
RICH. He didn‘t. On the contrary, he lives in this here
very village, under the name of Robin Oakapple, and he‘s a-going
to marry Rose Maybud this very day.
SIR D. Ruthven alive, and going to marry Rose Maybud! Can
this be possible?
RICH. Now the question I was going to ask your honour is – Ought I to tell your honour this?
SIR D. I don‘t know. It‘s a delicate point. I think you
ought. Mind, I‘m not sure, but I think so.
RICH. That‘s what my heart says. It says, „Dick,“ it says
(it calls me Dick acos it‘s entitled to take that liberty), „that
there young gal would recoil from him if she knowed what he
really were. Ought you to stand off and on, and let this young
gal take this false step and never fire a shot across her bows to
bring her to? No,“ it says, „you did not ought.“ And I won‘t
ought, accordin‘.
SIR D. Then you really feel yourself at liberty to tell me
that my elder brother lives – that I may charge him with his cruel
deceit, and transfer to his shoulders the hideous thraldom under
which I have laboured for so many years! Free – free at last!
Free to live a blameless life, and to die beloved and regretted
by all who knew me!

DUET – SIR DESPARD and RICHARD.

RICH. You understand?
SIR D. I think I do;
With vigour unshaken
This step shall be taken.
It‘s neatly planned.
RICH. I think so too;
I‘ll readily bet it
You‘ll never regret it!

BOTH. For duty, duty must be done;
The rule applies to every one,
And painful though that duty be,
To shirk the task were fiddle-de-dee!

SIR D. The bridegroom comes –
RICH. Likewise the bride –
The maidens are very
Elated and merry;
They are her chums.
SIR D. To lash their pride
Were almost a pity,
The pretty committee!

BOTH. But duty, duty must be done;
The rule applies to every one,
And painful though that duty be,
To shirk the task were fiddle-de-dee!

(Exeunt Richard and Sir Despard.)

(Enter Chorus of Bridesmaids and Bucks.)

CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the bride of seventeen summers:
In fair phrases
Hymn her praises;
Lift your song on high, all comers.
She rejoices
In your voices.
Smiling summer beams upon her,
Shedding every blessing on her:
Maidens greet her –
Kindly treat her –
You may all be brides some day!

CHORUS OF BUCKS.

Hail the bridegroom who advances,
Agitated,
Yet elated.
He‘s in easy circumstances,
Young and lusty,
True and trusty.

ALL. Smiling summer beams upon her, etc.

(Enter Robin, attended by Richard and Old Adam, meeting Rose,
attended by Zorah and Dame Hannah. Rose and Robin embrace.)

MADRIGAL.
ROSE, DAME HANNAH, RICHARD, OLD ADAM with CHORUS.

ROSE. When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day –
Life is love in merry May!

GIRLS. Spring is green – Fal lal la!
Summer‘s rose – Fal la la!
QUARTET. It is sad when summer goes,
Fa la!
MEN. Autumn‘s gold – Fah lal la!
Winter‘s grey – Fah lal la!
QUARTET. Winter still is far away –
Fa la!

CHORUS. Leaves in autumn fade and fall,
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fa la!

HANNAH. In the spring-time seed is sown:
In the summer grass is mown:
In the autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.

GIRLS. Spring is hope – Fal lal la!
Summer‘s joy – Fal lal la!
QUARTET. Spring and summer never cloy.
Fa la!

MEN. Autumn,toil – Fal lal la!
Winter, rest – Fal lal la!
QUARTET. Winter, after all, is best –
Fal la!

CHORUS. Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, aye, and winter too –
Every season has its cheer,
Life is lovely all the year!
Fa la!

(Gavotte.)

(After Gavotte, enter Sir Despard.)

SIR D. Hold, bride and bridegroom, ere you wed each other,
I claim young Robin as my elder brother!
His rightful title I have long enjoyed:
I claim him as Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd!

CHORUS. O wonder!
ROSE (wildly). Deny the falsehood, Robin, as you should,
It is a plot!
ROB. I would, if conscientiously I could,
But I cannot!
CHORUS. Ah, base one! Ah, base one!

SOLO – ROBIN.

As pure and blameless peasant,
I cannot, I regret,
Deny a truth unpleasant,
I am that Baronet!

CHORUS. He is that Baronet!

ROBIN. But when completely rated
Bad Baronet am I,
That I am what he‘s stated
I‘ll recklessly deny!

CHORUS. He‘ll recklessly deny!

ROB. When I‘m a bad Bart. I will tell taradiddles!
CHORUS. He‘ll tell taradiddles when he‘s a bad Bart.
ROB. I‘ll play a bad part on the falsest of fiddles.
CHORUS. On very false fiddles he‘ll play a bad part!
ROB. But until that takes place I must be conscientious –
CHORUS. He‘ll be conscientious until that takes place.
ROB. Then adieu with good grace to my morals sententious!
CHORUS. To morals sententious adieu with good grace!

ZOR. Who is the wretch who hath betrayed thee?
Let him stand forth!
RICH. (coming forward). ‚Twas I!
ALL. Die, traitor!
RICH. Hold! my conscience made me!
Withhold your wrath!

SOLO – RICHARD.

Within this breast there beats a heart
Whose voice can‘t be gainsaid.
It bade me thy true rank impart,
And I at once obeyed.
I knew ‚twould blight thy budding fate –
I knew ‚twould cause thee anguish great –
But did I therefore hesitate?
No! I at once obeyed!
ALL. Acclaim him who, when his true heart
Bade him young Robin‘s rank impart,
Immediately obeyed!

SOLO – ROSE (addressing Robin).

Farewell!
Thou hadst my heart –
‚Twas quickly won!
But now we part –
Thy face I shun!
Farewell!

Go bend the knee
At Vice‘s shrine,
Of life with me
All hope resign.
Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!

(To Sir Despard.) Take me – I am thy bride!

BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the Bridegroom – hail the Bride!
When the nuptial knot is tied;
Every day will bring some joy
That can never, never cloy!

(Enter Margaret, who listens.)

SIR D. Excuse me, I‘m a virtuous person now –
ROSE. That‘s why I wed you!
SIR D. And I to Margaret must keep my vow!
MAR. Have I misread you?
Oh, joy! with newly kindled rapture warmed,
I kneel before you! (Kneels.)
SIR D. I once disliked you; now that I‘ve reformed,
How I adore you! (They embrace.)

BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the Bridegroom-hail the Bride!
When the nuptial knot is tied;
Every day will bring some joy
That can never, never cloy!

ROSE. Richard, of him I love bereft,
Through thy design,
Thou art the only one that‘s left,
So I am thine! (They embrace.)

BRIDESMAIDS.

Hail the Bridegroom – hail the Bride!
Let the nuptial knot be tied!

DUET – ROSE and RICHARD.

Oh, happy the lily
When kissed by the bee;
And, sipping tranquilly,
Quite happy is he;
And happy the filly
That neighs in her pride;
But happier than any,
A pound to a penny,
A lover is, when he
Embraces his bride!

DUET – SIR DESPARD and MARGARET.

Oh, happy the flowers
That blossom in June,
And happy the bowers
That gain by the boon,
But happier by hours
The man of descent,
Who, folly regretting,
Is bent on forgetting
His bad baronetting,
And means to repent!

TRIO – HANNAH, ADAM, and ZORAH.

Oh, happy the blossom
That blooms on the lea,
Likewise the opossum
That sits on a tree,
But when you come across ‚em,
They cannot compare
With those who are treading
The dance at a wedding,
While people are spreading
The best of good fare!

SOLO – ROBIN.

Oh, wretched the debtor
Who‘s signing a deed!
And wretched the letter
That no one can read!
But very much better
Their lot it must be
Than that of the person
I‘m making this verse on,
Whose head there‘s a curse on –
Alluding to me!

Repeat ensemble with Chorus.

(Dance)

(At the end of the dance Robin falls senseless on the stage.
Picture.

END OF ACT I

ACT II

Scene. – Picture Gallery in Ruddigore Castle. The walls are
covered with full-length portraits of the Baronets of
Ruddigore from the time of James I. – the first being that of
Sir Rupert, alluded to in the legend; the last, that of the
last deceased Baronet, Sir Roderic.

Enter Robin and Adam melodramatically. They are greatly altered
in appearance, Robin wearing the haggard aspect of a guilty
roue; Adam, that of the wicked steward to such a man.

DUET – ROBIN and ADAM.

ROB. I once was as meek as a new-born lamb,
I‘m now Sir Murgatroyd – ha! ha!
With greater precision
(Without the elision),
Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd – ha! ha!

ADAM. And I, who was once his valley-de-sham,
As steward I‘m now employed – ha! ha!
The dickens may take him –
I‘ll never forsake him!
As steward I‘m now employed – ha! ha!

ADDITIONAL SONG
(Omitted after opening night.)

ROB. My face is the index to my mind,
All venom and spleen and gall – ha! ha!
Or, properly speaking,
It soon will be reeking,
With venom and spleen and gall – ha! ha!

ADAM. My name from Adam Goodheart you‘ll find
I‘ve changed to Gideon Crawle – ha! ha!
For bad Bart‘s steward
Whose heart is much too hard
Is always Gideon Crawle – ha! ha!

BOTH. How dreadful when an innocent heart
Becomes, perforce, a bad young Bart.,
And still more hard on old Adam,
His former faithful valley-de-sham!

ROB. This is a painful state of things, old Adam!

ADAM. Painful, indeed! Ah, my poor master, when I swore
that, come what would, I would serve you in all things for ever,
I little thought to what a pass it would bring me! The
confidential adviser to the greatest villain unhung! Now, sir,
to business. What crime do you propose to commit to-day?
ROB. How should I know? As my confidential adviser, it‘s
your duty to suggest something.
ADAM. Sir, I loathe the life you are leading, but a good
old man‘s oath is paramount, and I obey. Richard Dauntless is
here with pretty Rose Maybud, to ask your consent to their
marriage. Poison their beer.
ROB. No – not that – I know I‘m a bad Bart., but I‘m not as
bad a Bart. as all that.
ADAM. Well, there you are, you see! It‘s no use my making
suggestions if you don‘t adopt them.
ROB. (melodramatically). How would it be, do you think,
were I to lure him here with cunning wile – bind him with good
stout rope to yonder post – and then, by making hideous faces at
him, curdle the heart-blood in his arteries, and freeze the very
marrow in his bones? How say you, Adam, is not the scheme well
planned?
ADAM. It would be simply rude – nothing more. But
soft – they come!

(Adam and Robin retire up as Richard and Rose enter, preceded by
Chorus of Bridesmaids.)

DUET – RICHARD and ROSE.

RICH. Happily coupled are we,
You see –
I am a jolly Jack Tar,
My star,
And you are the fairest,
The richest and rarest
Of innocent lasses you are,
By far –
Of innocent lasses you are!
Fanned by a favouring gale,
You‘ll sail
Over life‘s treacherous sea
With me,
And as for bad weather,
We‘ll brave it together,
And you shall creep under my lee,
My wee!
And you shall creep under my lee!
For you are such a smart little craft –
Such a neat little, sweet little craft,
Such a bright little, tight little,
Slight little, light little,
Trim little, prim little craft!

CHORUS. For she is such, etc.

ROSE. My hopes will be blighted, I fear,
My dear;
In a month you‘ll be going to sea,
Quite free,
And all of my wishes
You‘ll throw to the fishes
As though they were never to be;
Poor me!
As though they were never to be.
And I shall be left all alone
To moan,
And weep at your cruel deceit,
Complete;
While you‘ll be asserting
Your freedom by flirting
With every woman you meet,
You cheat – Ah!
With every woman you meet! Ah!

Though I am such a smart little craft –
Such a neat little, sweet little craft,
Such a bright little, tight little,
Slight little, light little,
Trim little, prim little craft!

CHORUS. Though she is such, etc.

(Enter Robin.)

ROB. Soho! pretty one – in my power at last, eh? Know ye
not that I have those within my call who, at my lightest bidding,
would immure ye in an uncomfortable dungeon? (Calling.) What
ho! within there!
RICH. Hold – we are prepared for this (producing a Union
Jack). Here is a flag that none dare defy (all kneel), and while
this glorious rag floats over Rose Maybud‘s head, the man does
not live who would dare to lay unlicensed hand upon her!
ROB. Foiled – and by a Union Jack! But a time will come,
and then – – ROSE. Nay, let me plead with him. (To Robin.) Sir Ruthven,
have pity. In my book of etiquette the case of a maiden about to
be wedded to one who unexpectedly turns out to be a baronet with
a curse on him is not considered. Time was when you loved me
madly. Prove that this was no selfish love by according your
consent to my marriage with one who, if he be not you yourself,
is the next best thing – your dearest friend!

BALLAD – ROSE.

In bygone days I had thy love –
Thou hadst my heart.
But Fate, all human vows above,
Our lives did part!
By the old love thou hadst for me –
By the fond heart that beat for thee –
By joys that never now can be,
Grant thou my prayer!

ALL (kneeling). Grant thou her prayer!

ROB. (recitative). Take her – I yield!

ALL. (recitative). Oh, rapture! (All rising.)

CHORUS. Away to the parson we go –
Say we‘re solicitous very
That he will turn two into one –
Singing hey, derry down derry!

RICH. For she is such a smart little craft-
ROSE. Such a neat little, sweet little craft –
RICH. Such a bright little-
ROSE. Tight little-
RICH. Slight little-
ROSE. Light little-
BOTH. Trim little, prim little craft!

CHORUS. For she is such a smart little craft, etc.

(Exeunt all but Robin.)

ROB. For a week I have fulfilled my accursed doom! I have
duly committed a crime a day! Not a great crime, I trust, but
still, in the eyes of one as strictly regulated as I used to be,
a crime. But will my ghostly ancestors be satisfied with what I
have done, or will they regard it as an unworthy subterfuge?
(Addressing Pictures.) Oh, my forefathers, wallowers in blood,
there came at last a day when, sick of crime, you, each and
every, vowed to sin no more, and so, in agony, called welcome
Death to free you from your cloying guiltiness. Let the sweet
psalm of that repentant hour soften your long-dead hearts, and
tune your souls to mercy on your poor posterity! (Kneeling).

(The stage darkens for a moment. It becomes light again, and the
Pictures are seen to have become animated.)

CHORUS OF FAMILY PORTRAITS.

Painted emblems of a race,
All accurst in days of yore,
Each from his accustomed place
Steps into the world once more.

(The Pictures step from their frames and march round the stage.)

Baronet of Ruddigore,
Last of our accursed line,
Down upon the oaken floor –
Down upon those knees of thine.

Coward, poltroon, shaker, squeamer,
Blockhead, sluggard, dullard, dreamer,
Shirker, shuffler, crawler, creeper,
Sniffler, snuffler, wailer, weeper,
Earthworm, maggot, tadpole, weevil!
Set upon thy course of evil,
Lest the King of Spectre-land
Set on thee his grisly hand!

(The Spectre of Sir Roderic descends from his frame.)

SIR ROD. Beware! beware! beware!
ROB. Gaunt vision, who art thou
That thus, with icy glare
And stern relentless brow,
Appearest, who knows how?

SIR ROD. I am the spectre of the late
Sir Roderic Murgatroyd,
Who comes to warn thee that thy fate
Thou canst not now avoid.

ROB. Alas, poor ghost!

SIR ROD. The pity you
Express for nothing goes:
We spectres are a jollier crew
Than you, perhaps, suppose!

CHORUS. We spectres are a jollier crew
Than you, perhaps, suppose!

SONG – SIR RODERIC.

When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in
the moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight
skies –
When the footpads quail at the night-bird‘s wail, and black dogs
bay at the moon,
Then is the spectres‘ holiday – then is the ghosts‘ high-noon!

CHORUS. Ha! ha!
Then is the ghosts‘ high-noon!

As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lie
low on the fen,
From grey tomb-stones are gathered the bones that once were women
and men,
And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that ends
too soon,
For cockcrow limits our holiday – the dead of the night‘s
high-noon!

CHORUS. Ha! ha!
The dead of the night‘s high-noon!

And then each ghost with his ladye-toast to their churchyard beds
takes flight,
With a kiss, perhaps, on her lantern chaps, and a grisly grim
„good-night“;
Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth its
jolliest tune,
And ushers in our next high holiday – the dead of the night‘s
high-noon!

CHORUS. Ha! ha!
The dead of the night‘s high-noon!
Ha! ha! ha! ha!

ROB. I recognize you now – you are the picture that hangs at
the end of the gallery.
SIR ROD. In a bad light. I am.
ROB. Are you considered a good likeness?
SIR ROD. Pretty well. Flattering.
ROB. Because as a work of art you are poor.
SIR ROD. I am crude in colour, but I have only been painted
ten years. In a couple of centuries I shall be an Old Master,
and then you will be sorry you spoke lightly of me.
ROB. And may I ask why you have left your frames?
SIR ROD. It is our duty to see that our successors commit
their daily crimes in a conscientious and workmanlike fashion.
It is our duty to remind you that you are evading the conditions
under which you are permitted to exist.
ROB. Really, I don‘t know what you‘d have. I‘ve only been
a bad baronet a week, and I‘ve committed a crime punctually every
day.
SIR ROD. Let us inquire into this. Monday?
ROB. Monday was a Bank Holiday.
SIR ROD. True. Tuesday?
ROB. On Tuesday I made a false income-tax return.
ALL. Ha! ha!
1ST GHOST. That‘s nothing.
2ND GHOST. Nothing at all.
3RD GHOST. Everybody does that.
4TH GHOST. It‘s expected of you.
SIR ROD. Wednesday?
ROB. (melodramatically). On Wednesday I forged a will.
SIR ROD. Whose will?
ROB. My own.
SIR ROD. My good sir, you can‘t forge your own will!
ROB. Can‘t I, though! I like that! I did! Besides, if a
man can‘t forge his own will, whose will can he forge?
1ST GHOST. There‘s something in that.
2ND GHOST. Yes, it seems reasonable.
3RD GHOST. At first sight it does.
4TH GHOST. Fallacy somewhere, I fancy!
ROB. A man can do what he likes with his own!
SIR ROD. I suppose he can.
ROB. Well, then, he can forge his own will, stoopid! On
Thursday I shot a fox.
1ST GHOST. Hear, hear!
SIR ROD. That‘s better (addressing Ghosts). Pass the fox,
I think? (They assent.) Yes, pass the fox. Friday?
ROB. On Friday I forged a cheque.
SIR ROD. Whose cheque?
ROB. Old Adam‘s.
SIR ROD. But Old Adam hasn‘t a banker.
ROB. I didn‘t say I forged his banker – I said I forged his
cheque. On Saturday I disinherited my only son.
SIR ROD. But you haven‘t got a son.
ROB. No – not yet. I disinherited him in advance, to save
time. You see – by this arrangement – he‘ll be born ready
disinherited.
SIR ROD. I see. But I don‘t think you can do that.
ROB. My good sir, if I can‘t disinherit my own unborn son,
whose unborn son can I disinherit?
SIR ROD. Humph! These arguments sound very well, but I
can‘t help thinking that, if they were reduced to syllogistic
form, they wouldn‘t hold water. Now quite understand us. We are
foggy, but we don‘t permit our fogginess to be presumed upon.
Unless you undertake to – well, suppose we say, carry off a lady?
(Addressing Ghosts.) Those who are in favour of his carrying off
a lady? (All hold up their hands except a Bishop.) Those of the
contrary opinion? (Bishop holds up his hands.) Oh, you‘re never
satisfied! Yes, unless you undertake to carry off a lady at
once – I don‘t care what lady – any lady – choose your lady – you
perish in inconceivable agonies.
ROB. Carry off a lady? Certainly not, on any account.
I‘ve the greatest respect for ladies, and I wouldn‘t do anything
of the kind for worlds! No, no. I‘m not that kind of baronet, I
assure you! If that‘s all you‘ve got to say, you‘d better go
back to your frames.
SIR ROD. Very good – then let the agonies commence.

(Ghosts make passes. Robin begins to writhe in agony.)

ROB. Oh! Oh! Don‘t do that! I can‘t stand it!
SIR ROD. Painful, isn‘t it? It gets worse by degrees.
ROB. Oh – Oh! Stop a bit! Stop it, will you? I want to
speak.

(Sir Roderic makes signs to Ghosts, who resume their attitudes.)

SIR ROD. Better?
ROB. Yes – better now! Whew!
SIR ROD. Well, do you consent?
ROB. But it‘s such an ungentlemanly thing to do!
SIR ROD. As you please. (To Ghosts.) Carry on!
ROB. Stop – I can‘t stand it! I agree! I promise! It
shall be done!
SIR ROD. To-day?
ROB. To-day!
SIR ROD. At once?
ROB. At once! I retract! I apologize! I had no idea it
was anything like that!

CHORUS.

He yields! He answers to our call!
We do not ask for more.
A sturdy fellow, after all,
This latest Ruddigore!
All perish in unheard-of woe
Who dare our wills defy;
We want your pardon, ere we go,
For having agonized you so –
So pardon us –
So pardon us –
So pardon us –
Or die!

ROB. I pardon you!
I pardon you!

ALL. He pardons us-
Hurrah!

(The Ghosts return to their frames.)

CHORUS. Painted emblems of a race,
All accurst in days of yore,
Each to his accustomed place
Steps unwillingly once more!

(By this time the Ghosts have changed to pictures again. Robin
is overcome by emotion.)

(Enter Adam.)

ADAM. My poor master, you are not well –
ROB. Old Adam, it won‘t do – I‘ve seen ‚em – all my
ancestors – they‘re just gone. They say that I must do something
desperate at once, or perish in horrible agonies. Go – go to
yonder village – carry off a maiden – bring her here at once – any
one – I don‘t care which –
ADAM. But –
ROB. Not a word, but obey! Fly!
(Exeunt Adam)

RECIT. and SONG – ROBIN.

Away, Remorse!
Compunction, hence!.
Go, Moral Force!
Go, Penitence!
To Virtue‘s plea
A long farewell –
Propriety,
I ring your knell!
Come, guiltiness of deadliest hue!
Come, desperate deeds of derring-do!

Henceforth all the crimes that I find in the Times.
I‘ve promised to perpetrate daily;
To-morrow I start with a petrified heart,
On a regular course of Old Bailey.
There‘s confidence tricking, bad coin, pocket-picking,
And several other disgraces –
There‘s postage-stamp prigging, and then thimble-rigging,
The three-card delusion at races!
Oh! A baronet‘s rank is exceedingly nice,
But the title‘s uncommonly dear at the price!

Ye well-to-do squires, who live in the shires,
Where petty distinctions are vital,
Who found Athenaeums and local museums,
With a view to a baronet‘s title –
Ye butchers and bakers and candlestick makers
Who sneer at all things that are tradey –
Whose middle-class lives are embarrassed by wives
Who long to parade as „My Lady“,
Oh! allow me to offer a word of advice,
The title‘s uncommonly dear at the price!

Ye supple M.P.‘s who go down on your knees,
Your precious identity sinking,
And vote black or white as your leaders indite
(Which saves you the trouble of thinking),
For your country‘s good fame, her repute, or her shame,
You don‘t care the snuff of a candle –
But you‘re paid for your game when you‘re told that your name
Will be graced by a baronet‘s handle –
Oh! Allow me to give you a word of advice –
The title‘s uncommonly dear at the price!
(Exit Robin.)

(Enter Despard and Margaret. They are both dressed in sober black
of formal cut, and present a strong contrast to their
appearance in Act I.)

DUET.

DES. I once was a very abandoned person –
MAR. Making the most of evil chances.
DES. Nobody could conceive a worse ‚un –
MAR. Even in all the old romances.
DES. I blush for my wild extravagances,
But be so kind
To bear in mind,
MAR. We were the victims of circumstances!
(Dance.)
That is one of our blameless dances.

MAR. I was once an exceedingly odd young lady –
DES. Suffering much from spleen and vapours.
MAR. Clergymen thought my conduct shady –
DES. She didn‘t spend much upon linen-drapers.
MAR. It certainly entertained the gapers.
My ways were strange
Beyond all range –
DES. Paragraphs got into all the papers.
(Dance.)

DES. We only cut respectable capers.

DES. I‘ve given up all my wild proceedings.
MAR. My taste for a wandering life is waning.
DES. Now I‘m a dab at penny readings.
MAR. They are not remarkably entertaining.
DES. A moderate livelihood we‘re gaining.
MAR. In fact we rule
A National School.
DES. The duties are dull, but I‘m not complaining.
(Dance.)

This sort of thing takes a deal of training!

DES. We have been married a week.
MAR. One happy, happy week!
DES. Our new life –
MAR. Is delightful indeed!
DES. So calm!
MAR. So unimpassioned! (Wildly). Master, all this I owe
to you! See, I am no longer wild and untidy. My hair is combed.
My face is washed. My boots fit!
DES. Margaret, don‘t. Pray restrain yourself. Remember,
you are now a district visitor.
MAR. A gentle district visitor!
DES. You are orderly, methodical, neat; you have your
emotions well under control.
MAR. I have! (Wildly). Master, when I think of all you
have done for me, I fall at your feet. I embrace your ankles. I
hug your knees! (Doing so.)
DES. Hush. This is not well. This is calculated to
provoke remark. Be composed, I beg!
MAR. Ah! you are angry with poor little Mad Margaret!
DES. No, not angry; but a district visitor should learn to
eschew melodrama. Visit the poor, by all means, and give them
tea and barley-water, but don‘t do it as if you were
administering a bowl of deadly nightshade. It upsets them. Then
when you nurse sick people, and find them not as well as could be
expected, why go into hysterics?
MAR. Why not?
DES. Because it‘s too jumpy for a sick-room.
MAR. How strange! Oh, Master! Master! – how shall I express
the all-absorbing gratitude that – (about to throw herself at his
feet).
DES. Now! (Warningly).
MAR. Yes, I know, dear – it shan‘t occur again. (He is
seated – she sits on the ground by him.) Shall I tell you one of
poor Mad Margaret‘s odd thoughts? Well, then, when I am lying
awake at night, and the pale moonlight streams through the
latticed casement, strange fancies crowd upon my poor mad brain,
and I sometimes think that if we could hit upon some word for you
to use whenever I am about to relapse – some word that teems with
hidden meaning – like „Basingstoke“ – it might recall me to my
saner self. For, after all, I am only Mad Margaret! Daft Meg!
Poor Meg! He! he! he!
DES. Poor child, she wanders! But soft – some one
comes – Margaret – pray recollect yourself – Basingstoke, I beg!
Margaret, if you don‘t Basingstoke at once, I shall be seriously
angry.
MAR. (recovering herself). Basingstoke it is!
DES. Then make it so.

(Enter Robin. He starts on seeing them.)

ROB. Despard! And his young wife! This visit is
unexpected.
MAR. Shall I fly at him? Shall I tear him limb from limb?
Shall I rend him asunder? Say but the word and –
DES. Basingstoke!
MAR. (suddenly demure). Basingstoke it is!
DES. (aside). Then make it so. (Aloud.) My brother – I
call you brother still, despite your horrible profligacy – we have
come to urge you to abandon the evil courses to which you have
committed yourself, and at any cost to become a pure and
blameless ratepayer.
ROB. But I‘ve done no wrong yet.
MAR. (wildly). No wrong! He has done no wrong! Did you
hear that!
DES. Basingstoke!
MAR. (recovering herself). Basingstoke it is!
DES. My brother – I still call you brother, you observe – you
forget that you have been, in the eye of the law, a Bad Baronet
of Ruddigore for ten years – and you are therefore responsible – in
the eye of the law – for all the misdeeds committed by the unhappy
gentleman who occupied your place.
ROB. I see! Bless my heart, I never thought of that! Was
I very bad?
DES. Awful. Wasn‘t he? (To Margaret).
ROB. And I‘ve been going on like this for how long?
DES. Ten years! Think of all the atrocities you have
committed – by attorney as it were – during that period. Remember
how you trifled with this poor child‘s affections – how you raised
her hopes on high (don‘t cry, my love – Basingstoke, you know),
only to trample them in the dust when they were at the very
zenith of their fullness. Oh fie, sir, fie – she trusted you!
ROB. Did she? What a scoundrel I must have been! There,
there – don‘t cry, my dear (to Margaret, who is sobbing on Robin‘s
breast), it‘s all right now. Birmingham, you know – Birmingham –
MAR. (sobbing). It‘s Ba – Ba – Basingstoke!
ROB. Basingstoke! Of course it is – Basingstoke.
MAR. Then make it so!
ROB. There, there – it‘s all right – he‘s married you
now – that is, I‘ve married you (turning to Despard) – I say, which
of us has married her?
DES. Oh, I‘ve married her.
ROB. (aside). Oh, I‘m glad of that. (To Margaret.) Yes,
he‘s married you now (passing her over to Despard), and anything
more disreputable than my conduct seems to have been I‘ve never
even heard of. But my mind is made up – I will defy my ancestors.
I will refuse to obey their behests, thus, by courting death,
atone in some degree for the infamy of my career!
MAR. I knew it – I knew it – God bless
you – (Hysterically).
DES. Basingstoke!
MAR. Basingstoke it is! (Recovers herself.)

PATTER-TRIO.
ROBIN, DESPARD, and MARGARET.

ROB. My eyes are fully open to my awful situation –
I shall go at once to Roderic and make him an oration.
I shall tell him I‘ve recovered my forgotten moral senses,
And I don‘t care twopence-halfpenny for any consequences.
Now I do not want to perish by the sword or by the dagger,
But a martyr may indulge a little pardonable swagger,
And a word or two of compliment my vanity would flatter,
But I‘ve got to die tomorrow, so it really doesn‘t matter!

DES. So it really doesn‘t matter –

MAR. So it really doesn‘t matter –

ALL. So it really doesn‘t matter, matter, matter, matter, matter!

MAR. If were not a little mad and generally silly
I should give you my advice upon the subject, willy-nilly;
I should show you in a moment how to grapple with the
question,
And you‘d really be astonished at the force of my
suggestion.
On the subject I shall write you a most valuable letter,
Full of excellent suggestions when I feel a little better,
But at present I‘m afraid I am as mad as any hatter,
So I‘ll keep ‚em to myself, for my opinion doesn‘t matter!

DES. Her opinion doesn‘t matter –

ROB. Her opinion doesn‘t matter –

ALL. Her opinion doesn‘t matter, matter, matter, matter,
matter!

DES. If I had been so lucky as to have a steady brother
Who could talk to me as we are talking now to one another –
Who could give me good advice when he discovered I was
erring
(Which is just the very favour which on you I am
conferring),
My story would have made a rather interesting idyll,
And I might have lived and died a very decent indiwiddle.
This particularly rapid, unintelligible patter
Isn‘t generally heard, and if it is it doesn‘t matter!

ROB. If it is it doesn‘t matter –

MAR. If it is it doesn‘t matter –

ALL. If it is it doesn‘t matter, matter, matter, matter,
matter!

(Exeunt Despard and Margaret.)

(Enter Adam.)

ADAM (guiltily). Master – the deed is done!
ROB. What deed?
ADAM. She is here – alone, unprotected –
ROB. Who?
ADAM. The maiden. I‘ve carried her off – I had a hard task,
for she fought like a tiger-cat!
ROB. Great heaven, I had forgotten her! I had hoped to
have died unspotted by crime, but I am foiled again – and by a
tiger-cat! Produce her – and leave us!

(Adam introduces Dame Hannah, very much excited, and exits.)

ROB. Dame Hannah! This is – this is not what I expected.
HAN. Well, sir, and what would you with me? Oh, you have
begun bravely – bravely indeed! Unappalled by the calm dignity of
blameless womanhood, your minion has torn me from my spotless
home, and dragged me, blindfold and shrieking, through hedges,
over stiles, and across a very difficult country, and left me,
helpless and trembling, at your mercy! Yet not helpless, coward
sir, for approach one step – nay, but the twentieth part of one
poor inch – and this poniard (produces a very small dagger) shall
teach ye what it is to lay unholy hands on old Stephen Trusty‘s
daughter!
ROB. Madam, I am extremely sorry for this. It is not at
all what I intended – anything more correct – more deeply
respectful than my intentions towards you, it would be impossible
for any one – however particular – to desire.
HAN. Bah, I am not to be tricked by smooth words,
hypocrite! But be warned in time, for there are, without, a
hundred gallant hearts whose trusty blades would hack him limb
from limb who dared to lay unholy hands on old Stephen Trusty‘s
daughter!
ROB. And this is what it is to embark upon a career of
unlicensed pleasure!

(Dame Hannah, who has taken a formidable dagger from one of the
armed figures, throws her small dagger to Robin.)

HAN. Harkye, miscreant, you have secured me, and I am your
poor prisoner; but if you think I cannot take care of myself you
are very much mistaken. Now then, it‘s one to one, and let the
best man win!

(Making for him.)

ROB. (in an agony of terror). Don‘t! don‘t look at me like
that! I can‘t bear it! Roderic! Uncle! Save me!

(Sir Roderic enters, from his picture. He comes down the stage.)

ROD. What is the matter? Have you carried her off?
ROB. I have – she is there – look at her – she terrifies me!
ROD. (looking at Hannah). Little Nannikin!
HAN. (amazed). Roddy-doddy!
ROD. My own old love! Why, how came you here?
HAN. This brute – he carried me off! Bodily! But I‘ll show
him! (about to rush at Robin).
ROD. Stop! (To Rob.) What do you mean by carrying off
this lady? Are you aware that once upon a time she was engaged
to be married to me? I‘m very angry – very angry indeed.
ROB. Now I hope this will be a lesson to you in future not
to –
ROD. Hold your tongue, sir.
ROB. Yes, uncle.
ROD. Have you given him any encouragement?
HAN. (to Rob.). Have I given you any encouragement?
Frankly now, have I?
ROB. No. Frankly, you have not. Anything more
scrupulously correct than your conduct, it would be impossible to
desire.
ROD. You go away.
ROB. Yes, uncle. (Exit Robin.)
ROD. This is a strange meeting after so many years!
HAN. Very. I thought you were dead.
ROD. I am. I died ten years ago.
HAN. And are you pretty comfortable?
ROD. Pretty well – that is – yes, pretty well.
HAN. You don‘t deserve to be, for I loved you all the
while, dear; and it made me dreadfully unhappy to hear of all
your goings-on, you bad, bad boy!

BALLAD – DAME HANNAH.

There grew a little flower
‚Neath a great oak tree:
When the tempest ‚gan to lower
Little heeded she:
No need had she to cower,
For she dreaded not its power –
She was happy in the bower
Of her great oak tree!
Sing hey,
Lackaday!
Let the tears fall free
For the pretty little flower
And the great oak tree!

BOTH. Sing hey,
Lackaday! etc.

When she found that he was fickle,
Was that great oak tree,
She was in a pretty pickle,
As she well might be –
But his gallantries were mickle,
For Death followed with his sickle,
And her tears began to trickle
For her great oak tree!
Sing hey,
Lackaday! etc.

BOTH. Sing hey,
Lackaday! etc.

Said she, „He loved me never,
Did that great oak tree,
But I‘m neither rich nor clever,
And so why should he?
But though fate our fortunes sever,
To be constant I‘ll endeavour,
Aye, for ever and for ever,
To my great oak tree!‘
Sing hey,
Lackaday! etc.

BOTH. Sing hey,
Lackaday! etc.

(Falls weeping on Sir Roderic‘s bosom.)

(Enter Robin, excitedly, followed by all the characters and Chorus
of Bridesmaids.)

ROB. Stop a bit – both of you.
ROD. This intrusion is unmannerly.
HAN. I‘m surprised at you.
ROB. I can‘t stop to apologize – an idea has just occurred
to me. A Baronet of Ruddigore can only die through refusing to
commit his daily crime.
ROD. No doubt.
ROB. Therefore, to refuse to commit a daily crime is
tantamount to suicide!
ROD. It would seem so.
ROB. But suicide is, itself, a crime – and so, by your own
showing, you ought never to have died at all!
ROD. I see – I understand! Then I‘m practically alive!
ROB. Undoubtedly! (Sir Roderic embraces Dame Hannah.) Rose,
when you believed that I was a simple farmer, I believe you loved
me?
ROSE. Madly, passionately!
ROB. But when I became a bad baronet, you very properly
loved Richard instead?
ROSE. Passionately, madly!
ROB. But if I should turn out not to be a bad baronet after
all, how would you love me then?
ROSE. Madly, passionately!
ROB. As before?
ROSE. Why, of course.
ROB. My darling! (They embrace.)
RICH. Here, I say, belay!
ROSE. Oh, sir, belay, if it‘s absolutely necessary!
ROB. Belay? Certainly not!

FINALE

ROB. Having been a wicked baronet a week
Once again a modest livelihood I seek.
Agricultural employment
Is to me a keen enjoyment,
For I‘m naturally diffident and meek!

ROSE. When a man has been a naughty baronet,
And expresses deep repentance and regret,
You should help him, if you‘re able,
Like the mousie in the fable,
That‘s the teaching of my Book of Etiquette.

CHORUS. That‘s the teaching in her Book of Etiquette.

RICH. If you ask me why I do not pipe my eye,
Like an honest British sailor, I reply,
That with Zorah for my missis,
There‘ll be bread and cheese and kisses,
Which is just the sort of ration I enjye!

CHORUS. Which is just the sort of ration you enjye!

DES. and MAR. Prompted by a keen desire to evoke
All the blessed calm of matrimony‘s yoke,
We shall toddle off tomorrow,
From this scene of sin and sorrow,
For to settle in the town of Basingstoke!

ALL. For happy the lily
That‘s kissed by the bee;
And, sipping tranquilly,
Quite happy is he;
And happy the filly
That neighs in her pride;
But happier than any,
A pound to a penny,
A lover is, when he
Embraces his bride!

CURTAIN

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The Sorcerer

An Entirely New and Original Modern Comic Opera (in zwei Akten)

Libretto by William S. Gilbert

Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

Dramatis Personae:

Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre, an Elderly Baronet

Alexis, of the Grenadier Guards – His Son

Dr. Daly, Vicar of Ploverleigh

John Wellington Wells, of J. W. Wells & Co., Family Sorcerers

Lady Sangazure, a Lady of Ancient Lineage

Aline, Her Daughter – betrothed to Alexis

Mrs. Partlet, a Pew-Opener

Constance, her Daughter

Chorus of Villagers

ACT I – Grounds of Sir Marmaduke‘s Mansion, Mid-day

(Twelve hours are supposed to elapse between Acts I and II)

ACT II – Grounds of Sir Marmaduke‘s Mansion, Midnight

Act I

SCENE – Exterior of Sir Marmaduke‘s Elizabethan Mansion, mid-day.

CHORUS OF VILLAGERS

Ring forth, ye bells,
With clarion sound –
Forget your knells,
For joys abound.
Forget your notes
Of mournful lay,
And from your throats
Pour joy to-day.

For to-day young Alexis – young Alexis Pointdextre
Is betrothed to Aline – to Aline Sangazure,
And that pride of his sex is – of his sex is to be next her
At the feast on the green – on the green, oh, be sure!

Ring forth, ye bells etc.
(Exeunt the men into house.)

(Enter Mrs. Partlet with Constance, her daughter)

RECITATIVE

MRS. P. Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?
The village rings with seasonable joy,
Because the young and amiable Alexis,
Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,
Is plighted to Aline, the only daughter
Of Annabella, Lady Sangazure.
You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;
What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!

CON. Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexion
From red to white should change in quick succession,
And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!
If my poor limbs should tremble with emotion,
Pay no attention, mother – it is nothing!
If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,
Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne‘er be known!

Mrs. Partlet motions to Chorus to leave her with Constance. Exeunt
ladies of Chorus.

ARIA – CONSTANCE

When he is here,
I sigh with pleasure –
When he is gone,
I sigh with grief.
My hopeless fear
No soul can measure –
His love alone
Can give my aching heart relief!

When he is cold,
I weep for sorrow –
When he is kind,
I weep for joy.
My grief untold
Knows no to-morrow –
My woe can find
No hope, no solace, no alloy!

MRS. P. Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear –
I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!
Who is the object of your young affections?
CONST. Hush, mother! He is here! (Looking off)

Enter Dr. Daly. He is pensive and does not see them

MRS. P. (amazed) Our reverend vicar!
CONST. Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!
MRS. P. My child, be comforted. To such an union
I shall not offer any opposition.
Take him – he‘s yours! May you and he be happy!
CONST. But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!
MRS. P. That‘s true, indeed!
CONST. He might object!
MRS. P. He might.
But come – take heart – I‘ll probe him on the subject.
Be comforted – leave this affair to me.
(They withdraw.)

RECITATIVE – DR. DALY

The air is charged with amatory numbers –
Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers‘ lays.
Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers
The aching memory of the old, old days?

BALLAD

Time was when Love and I were well acquainted.
Time was when we walked ever hand in hand.
A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted,
None better-loved than I in all the land!
Time was, when maidens of the noblest station,
Forsaking even military men,
Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration –
Ah me, I was a fair young curate then!

Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;
Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;
Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;
And when I coughed all thought the end was near!
I had no care – no jealous doubts hung o‘er me –
For I was loved beyond all other men.
Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me –
Ah me, I was a pale young curate them!

(At the conclusion of the ballad, Mrs. Partlet comes forward with
Constance.)

MRS. P. Good day, reverend sir.
DR. D. Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And
your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little
woman, I declare!
CONST. (aside) Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!
MRS. P. Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as
good a girl as ever stepped. (Aside to Dr. Daly) Ah, sir, I‘m
afraid I shall soon lose her!
DR. D. (aside to Mrs. Partlet) Dear me, you pain me very
much. Is she delicate?
MRS. P. Oh no, sir – I don‘t mean that – but young girls look
to get married.
DR. D. Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there‘s plenty of
time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or
five years hence. But when the time does come, I shall have much
pleasure in marrying her myself –
CONST. (aside) Oh, mother!
DR. D. To some strapping young fellow in her own rank oflife.
CONST. (in tears) He does not love me!
MRS. P. I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you‘ll
excuse the liberty), that you have never married.
DR. D. (aside) Be still, my fluttering heart!
MRS. P. A clergyman‘s wife does so much good in a village.
besides that, you are not as young as you were, and before very
long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your little comforts.
DR. D. Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say.
I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my
declining days. Time was when it might have been; but I have
left it too long – I am an old fogy, now, am I not, my dear? (to
Constance) – a very old fogy, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet,
my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary old bachelor.
CONST. Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs on Mrs. Partlet‘s bosom)
MRS. P. Come, come, dear one, don‘t fret. At a more
fitting time we will try again – we will try again.
(Exeunt Mrs. Partlet and Constance.)

DR. D. (looking after them) Poor little girl! I‘m afraid
she has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was
when this old heart would have throbbed in double-time at the
sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here comes
the young Alexis with his proud and happy father. Let me dry
this tell-tale tear!

Enter Sir Marmaduke and Alexis

RECITATIVE

DR. D. Sir Marmaduke – my dear young friend, Alexis –
On this most happy, most auspicious plighting –
Permit me as a true old friend to tender
My best, my very best congratulations!
SIR M. Sir, you are most obleeging!
ALEX. Dr. Daly
My dear old tutor, and my valued pastor,
I thank you from the bottom of my heart!
(Spoken through music)
DR. D. May fortune bless you! may the middle distance
Of your young life be pleasant as the foreground –
The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,
May that which now is the far-off horizon
(But which will then become the middle distance),
In fruitful promise be exceeded only
By that which will have opened, in the meantime,
Into a new and glorious horizon!
SIR M. Dear Sir, that is an excellent example
Of an old school of stately compliment
To which I have, through life, been much addicted.
Will you obleege me with a copy of it,
In clerkly manuscript, that I myself
May use it on appropriate occasions?
DR. D. Sir, you shall have a fairly-written copy
Ere Sol has sunk into his western slumbers!
(Exit Dr. Daly)

SIR M. (to Alexis, who is in a reverie) Come, come, my
son – your fiancee will be here in five minutes. Rouse yourself
to receive her.
ALEXIS Oh rapture!
SIR M. Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will
not disguise from you that this union with the House of Sangazure
realizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of a
sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and
thirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, there
was a blot on the escutcheon of that lady – that affair with
Paris – but where is the family, other than my own, in which there
is no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir – a very lucky fellow!
ALEXIS Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No
sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love,
upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity!
SIR M. Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young
lady you do not speak so openly. You are always singing ballads
in praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait
behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate.
ALEXIS Father, a man who loves as I love –
SIR M. Pooh pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your
future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason to
believe that she returned my love. But were we guilty of the
indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other‘s arms,
exclaiming –

„Oh, my adored one!“ „Beloved boy!“
„Ecstatic rapture!“ „Unmingled joy!“

which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making? No! it was
„Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good health“ – “Sir,
you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty well“ – and so forth.
Much more delicate – much more respectful. But see – Aline
approaches – let us retire, that she may compose herself for the
interesting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part.
(Exeunt Sir Marmaduke and Alexis.)

(Enter Aline on terrace, preceded by Chorus of Girls.)

CHORUS OF GIRLS

With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating:
To the youth of her choice,
With a heart palpitating,
Comes the lovely Aline!

May their love never cloy!
May their bliss me unbounded!
With a halo of joy
May their lives be surrounded!
Heaven bless our Aline!

RECITATIVE – ALINE.

My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting
And as you wish me every earthly joy,
I trust your wishes may have quick fulfillment!

ARIA – ALINE.

Oh, happy young heart!
Comes thy young lord a-wooing
With joy in his eyes,
And pride in his breast –
Make much of thy prize,
For he is the best
That ever came a-suing.
Yet – yet we must part,
Young heart!
Yet – yet we must part!

Oh, merry young heart,
Bright are the days of thy wooing!
But happier far
The days untried –
No sorrow can mar,
When love has tied
The knot there‘s no undoing.
Then, never to part,
Young heart!
Then, never to part!

Enter Lady Sangazure

RECITATIVE – LADY S.

My child, I join in these congratulations:
Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!
Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow,
‚Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!

Enter Alexis, preceded by Chorus of Men

CHORUS OF MEN AND WOMEN

With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating;
To the maid of his choice,
With a heart palpitating,
Comes Alexis, the brave!.

(Sir Marmaduke enters. Lady Sangazure and he exhibit signs of strong
emotion at the sight of each other which they endeavor to
repress. Alexis and Aline rush into each other‘s arms.)

RECITATIVE

ALEXIS Oh, my adored one!

ALINE Beloved boy!

ALEXIS Ecstatic rapture!

ALINE Unmingled joy!
(They retire up.)

DUET – SIR MARMADUKE and LADY SANGAZURE

SIR M. (with stately courtesy)
Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!
As Aurora gilds the day,
So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,
Chase the clouds of care away.
Irresistible incentive
Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
I‘m your service most attentive –
Most attentive to command!

(Aside with frantic vehemence)
Wild with adoration!
Mad with fascination!
To indulge my lamentation
No occasion do I miss!
Goaded to distraction
By maddening inaction,
I find some satisfaction
In apostophe like this:
„Sangazure immortal,
„Sangazure divine,
„Welcome to my portal,
„Angel, oh be mine!“

(Aloud with much ceremony)
Irresistible incentive
Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
I‘m your servant most attentive –
Most attentive to command!

LADY S. Sir, I thank you most politely
For your grateful courtesee;
Compliment more true and knightly
Never yet was paid to me!
Chivalry is an ingredient
Sadly lacking in our land –
Sir, I am your most obedient,
Most obedient to command!

(Aside and with great vehemence)
Wild with adoration!
Mad with fascination!
To indulge my lamentation
No occasion do I miss!
Goaded to distraction
By maddening inaction,
I find some satisfaction
In apostophe like this:
„Marmaduke immortal,
„Marmaduke divine,
„Take me to thy portal,
„Loved one, oh be mine!“

(Aloud with much ceremony)
Chivalry is an ingredient
Sadly lacking in our land;
Sir, I am your most obedient,
Most obedient to command!

(During this the Notary has entered, with marriage contract.)

RECITATIVE – NOTARY

All is prepared for sealing and for signing,
The contract has been drafted as agreed;
Approach the table, oh, ye lovers pining,
With hand and seal come execute the deed!

(Alexis and Aline advance and sign, Alexis supported by Sir Marmaduke,
Aline by her Mother.)

CHORUS

See they sign, without a quiver, it –
Then to seal proceed.
They deliver it – they deliver it
As their Act and Deed!
ALEX. I deliver it – I deliver it
As my Act and Deed!.
ALINE. I deliver it – I deliver it.
As my Act and Deed!

CHO. With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating;
Leave them here to rejoice,
With true love palpitating,
Alexis the brave,
And the lovely Aline!
(Exeunt all but Alexis and Aline.)

ALEXIS At last we are alone! My darling, you are now
irrevocably betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy?
ALINE Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love you
beyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not true
love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of
every earthly joy?
ALEXIS Of that there can be no doubt. Oh, that the world
could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh, that the
world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth,
education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize
the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the
panacea for every ill!
ALINE Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will
succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness!
ALEXIS I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but
slowly. Still I have made some converts to the principle, that
men and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction
of rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics‘
Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my
views. I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and Lunatic
Asylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm. I have
addressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if
they married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented!
ALINE Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold that
the uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what do the
countesses say?
ALEXIS Why, at present, it can‘t be denied, the aristocracy
hold aloof.
ALINE Ah, the working man is the true Intelligence after
all!
ALEXIS He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes,
Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should be
independent of external influences. It should live upon itself
and by itself – in itself love should live for love alone!

BALLAD – ALEXIS

Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know,
Some love for rank, some for duty:
Some give their hearts away for empty show,
And others for youth and beauty.
To love for money all the world is prone:
Some love themselves, and live all lonely:
Give me the love that loves for love alone –
I love that love – I love it only!

What man for any other joy can thirst,
Whose loving wife adores him duly?
Want, misery, and care may do their worst,
If loving woman loves you truly.
A lover‘s thoughts are ever with his own –
None truly loved is ever lonely:
Give me the love that loves for love alone –
I love that love – I love it only!

ALINE Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!
ALEXIS Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step
in support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W.
Wells & Co., the old-established Family Sorcerers in St. Mary
Axe?
ALINE I have seen their advertisement.
ALEXIS They have invented a philtre, which, if report may
be believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute it
through the village, and within half an hour of my doing so there
will not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the
secret of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that?
ALINE Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing
in a house; but still I don‘t quite see that it is the sort of
thing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly
joy.
ALEXIS Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn‘t say a
filter – I said a philtre.
ALINE (alarmed) You don‘t mean a love-potion?
ALEXIS On the contrary – I do mean a love potion.
ALINE Oh, Alexis! I don‘t think it would be right. I
don‘t indeed. And then – a real magician! Oh, it would be
downright wicked.
ALEXIS Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to
steep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple
them in matrimony without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?
ALINE Unquestionably, but –
ALEXIS Then unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to
supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in
deference to the great and good end I have in view. (Calling)
Hercules.

(Enter a Page from tent)

PAGE Yes, sir.
ALEXIS Is Mr. Wells there?
PAGE He‘s in the tent, sir – refreshing.
ALEXIS Ask him to be so good as to step this way.
PAGE Yes, sir. (Exit Page)
ALINE Oh, but, Alexis! A real Sorcerer! Oh, I shall be
frightened to death!
ALEXIS I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the
strong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.
ALINE It‘s nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me
with your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family
Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turn
round.
ALEXIS He could change you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but
it is most unlikely that he would take such a liberty. It‘s a
most respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of
so untradesmanlike an act.

(Enter Mr. Wells from tent)

WELLS Good day, sir. (Aline much terrified.)
ALEXIS Good day – I believe you are a Sorcerer.
WELLS Yes, sir, we practice Necromancy in all its branches.
We‘ve a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods,
amulets, charms, and counter-charms. We can cast you a nativity
at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three-and-six that we
can guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent Hag
who comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, are
strongly recommended. Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and our
Prophetic Tablets, foretelling everything – from a change of
Ministry down to a rise in Unified – are much enquired for. Our
penny Curse – one of the cheapest things in the trade – is
considered infallible. We have some very superior Blessings,
too, but they‘re very little asked for. We‘ve only sold one
since Christmas – to a gentleman who bought it to send to his
mother-in-law – but it turned out that he was afflicted in the
head, and it‘s been returned on our hands. But our sale of penny
Curses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can‘t
turn ‚em out fast enough.

SONG – MR. WELLS

Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells,
I‘m a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells.
If you want a proud foe to „make tracks“ –
If you‘d melt a rich uncle in wax –
You‘ve but to look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

We‘ve a first-class assortment of magic;
And for raising a posthumous shade
With effects that are comic or tragic,
There‘s no cheaper house in the trade.
Love-philtre – we‘ve quantities of it;
And for knowledge if any one burns,
We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet
Who brings us unbounded returns:

For he can prophesy
With a wink of his eye,
Peep with security
Into futurity,
Sum up your history,
Clear up a mystery,
Humour proclivity
For a nativity – for a nativity;
With mirrors so magical,
Tetrapods tragical,
Bogies spectacular,
Answers oracular,
Facts astronomical,
Solemn or comical,
And, if you want it, he
Makes a reduction on taking a quantity!
Oh!

If any one anything lacks,
He‘ll find it all ready in stacks,
If he‘ll only look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

He can raise you hosts
Of ghosts,
And that without reflectors;
And creepy things
With wings,
And gaunt and grisly spectres.
He can fill you crowds
Of shrouds,
And horrify you vastly;
He can rack your brains
With chains,
And gibberings grim and ghastly.

And then, if you plan it, he
Changes organity,
With an urbanity,
Full of Satanity,
Vexes humanity
With an inanity
Fatal to vanity –
Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!

Barring tautology,
In demonology,
‚Lectro-biology,
Mystic nosology,
Spirit philology,
High-class astrology,
Such is his knowledge, he
Isn‘t the man to require an apology!

Oh!
My name is John Wellington Wells,
I‘m a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells.

If any one anything lacks,
He‘ll find it all ready in stacks,
If he‘ll only look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

ALEXIS I have sent for you to consult you on a very
important matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen
Love-at-first-sight Philtre?
WELLS Sir, it is our leading article. (Producing a phial.)
ALEXIS Now I want to know if you can confidently guarantee
it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your
advertisement?
WELLS Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods.
Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection,
and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully
realized. (Hurt)
ALINE (aside) Oh, Alexis, don‘t offend him! He‘ll change
us into something dreadful – I know he will!
ALEXIS I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to
distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this
village. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you sell
it?
WELLS In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise
your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to
want it. We have it in four-and-a-half and nine gallon
casks – also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct
10 per cent from prompt cash.
ALEXIS I should mention that I am a Member of the Army and
Navy Stores.
WELLS In that case we deduct 25 percent.
ALEXIS Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a
few minutes. Go and fetch the tea-pot.
ALINE But, Alexis –
ALEXIS My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go and
fetch the teapot.
ALINE (going) I‘m sure Dr. Daly would disapprove of it!
(Exit Aline.)
ALEXIS And how soon does it take effect?
WELLS In twelve hours. Whoever drinks of it loses
consciousness for that period, and on waking falls in love, as a
matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also
tasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial will
prove the fact.
Enter Aline with large tea-pot

ALEXIS Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you
will at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will
suffice to affect the whole village.
ALINE But bless me, Alexis, many of the villages are
married people!
WELLS Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest
principles. On married people it has no effect whatever. But
are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you
through the fearful ordeal?
ALEXIS In the good cause I fear nothing.
WELLS Very good, then, we will proceed at once to the
Incantation.
The stage grows dark.

INCANTATION

WELLS. Sprites of earth and air –
Fiends of flame and fire –
Demon souls,
Come here in shoals,
This dreaded deed inspire!
Appear, appear, appear.

MALE VOICES. Good master, we are here!

WELLS. Noisome hags of night –
Imps of deadly shade –
Pallid ghosts,
Arise in hosts,
And lend me all your aid.
Appear, appear, appear!

FEMALE VOICES. Good master, we are here!

ALEXIS. (aside) Hark, they assemble,
These fiends of the night!
ALINE. (aside) Oh Alexis, I tremble,
Seek safety in flight!

ARIA - ALINE

Let us fly to a far-off land,
Where peace and plenty dwell –
Where the sigh of the silver strand
Is echoed in every shell
To the joy that land will give,
On the wings of Love we‘ll fly;
In innocence, there to live –
In innocence there to die!

CHORUS OF SPIRITS.

Too late – too late
It may not be!
That happy fate
Is not for (me/thee)!

ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. W.

Too late – too late,
That may not be!
That happy fate,
Is not for thee!

MR. WELLS

Now shrivelled hags, with poison bags,
Discharge your loathsome loads!
Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!
Belch forth your venom, toads!
Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,
Shed curses far afield –
Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight
In noisome plenty yield!

WELLS (pouring phial into tea-pot – flash)
Number One!
CHORUS It is done!
WELLS (same business) Number Two! (flash)
CHORUS One too few!
WELLS Number Three! (flash)
CHORUS Set us free!
Set us free-our work is done
Ha! ha! ha!
Set us free – our course is run!
Ha! ha! ha!

ALINE AND ALEXIS (aside)

Let us fly to a far-off land,
Where peace and plenty dwell –
Where the sigh of the silver strand
Is echoed in every shell.

CHORUS OF FIENDS.

Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

(Stage grows light. Mr. Wells beckons villagers. Enter villagers
and all the dramatis personae, dancing joyously. Mrs. Partlet and
Mr. Wells then distribute tea-cups.)

CHORUS.

Now to the banquet we press;
Now for the eggs, the ham;
Now for the mustard and cress,
Now for the strawberry jam!

Now for the tea of our host,
Now for the rollicking bun,
Now for the muffin and toast,
Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

WOMEN. The eggs and the ham, and the strawberry jam!

MEN. The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!
The rollicking, rollicking bun!

RECITATIVE – SIR MARMADUKE

Be happy all – the feast is spread before ye;
Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!
Eat, aye, and drink – be merry, I implore ye,
For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.

TEA-CUP BRINDISI

Eat, drink, and be gay,
Banish all worry and sorrow,
Laugh gaily to-day,
Weep, if you‘re sorry, to-morrow!
Come, pass the cup around –
I will go bail for the liquor;
It‘s strong, I‘ll be bound,
For it was brewed by the vicar!

CHORUS.

None so knowing as he
At brewing a jorum of tea,
Ha! ha!
A pretty stiff jorum of tea.

TRIO – WELLS, ALINE, and ALEXIS. (aside)

See – see – they drink –
All thoughts unheeding,
The tea-cups clink,
They are exceeding!
Their hearts will melt
In half-an-hour –
Then will be felt
The potions power!

(During this verse Constance has brought a small tea-pot, kettle,
caddy, and cosy to Dr. Daly. He makes tea scientifically.)

BRINDISI, 2nd Verse – DR. DALY (with the tea-pot)

Pain, trouble, and care,
Misery, heart-ache, and worry,
Quick, out of your lair!
Get you gone in a hurry!
Toil, sorrow, and plot,
Fly away quicker and quicker –
Three spoons in the pot –
That is the brew of your vicar!

CHORUS

None so cunning as he
At brewing a jorum of tea,
Ha! ha!
A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

ENSEMBLE – ALEXIS and ALINE (aside)

Oh love, true love – unworldly, abiding!
Source of all pleasure – true fountain of joy, –
Oh love, true love – divinely confiding,
Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy, –
Oh love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,
Peace-bearing tillage – great garner of bliss, –
Oh love, true love, look down on our sadness –
Dwell in this village – oh, hear us in this!

(It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that
the charm is working. All rub their eyes, and stagger about the
stage as if under the influence of a narcotic.)

TUTTI (aside) ALEXIS, MR. WELLS and ALINE

Oh, marvellous illusion! A marvellous illusion!
Oh, terrible surprise! A terrible surprise
What is this strange confusion Excites a strange confusion
That veils my aching eyes? Within their aching eyes –
I must regain my senses, They must regain their senses,
Restoring Reason‘s law, Restoring Reason‘s law,
Or fearful inferences Or fearful inferences
Society will draw! Society will draw!

(Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle in vain against
its effects, and, at the end of the chorus, fall insensible on
the stage.)

END OF ACT I

ACT II

Scene – Exterior of Sir Marmaduke‘s mansion by moonlight. All the
peasantry are discovered asleep on the ground, as at the end of
Act I.

Enter Mr. Wells, on tiptoe, followed by Alexis and Aline. Mr. Wells
carries a dark lantern.

TRIO – ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. WELLS

‚Tis twelve, I think,
And at this mystic hour
The magic drink
Should manifest its power.
Oh, slumbering forms,
How little ye have guessed
That fire that warms
Each apathetic breast!

ALEX. But stay, my father is not here!

ALINE. And pray where is my mother dear?

MR. WELLS. I did not think it meet to see
A dame of lengthy pedigree,
A Baronet and K.C.B.
A Doctor of Divinity,
And that respectable Q.C.,
All fast asleep, al-fresco-ly,
And so I had them taken home
And put to bed respectably!
I trust my conduct meets your approbation.

ALEX. Sir, you have acted with discrimination,
And shown more delicate appreciation
Than we expect of persons of your station.

MR. WELLS. But stay – they waken one by one –
The spell has worked – the deed is done!
I would suggest that we retire
While Love, the Housemaid, lights her kitchen
fire!

(Exeunt Mr. Wells, Alexis and Aline, on tiptoe, as the villagers
stretch their arms, yawn, rub their eyes, and sit up.)

MEN. Why, where be oi, and what be oi a doin‘,
A sleepin‘ out, just when the dews du rise?
GIRLS. Why, that‘s the very way your health to ruin,
And don‘t seem quite respectable likewise!
MEN. (staring at girls) Eh, that‘s you!
Only think o‘ that now!
GIRLS. (coyly) What may you be at, now?
Tell me, du!
MEN. (admiringly) Eh, what a nose,
And eh, what eyes, miss!
Lips like a rose,
And cheeks likewise, miss!
GIRLS. (coyly) Oi tell you true,
Which I‘ve never done, sir,
Oi loike you
As I never loiked none, sir!
ALL. Eh, but oi du loike you!
MEN. If you‘ll marry me, I‘ll dig for you and
rake for you!
GIRLS. If you‘ll marry be, I‘ll scrub for you
and bake for you!
MEN. If you‘ll marry me, all others I‘ll
forsake for you!
ALL. All this will I du, if you marry
me!
GIRLS. If you‘ll marry me, I‘ll cook for you
and brew for you!
MEN. If you‘ll marry me, I‘ve guineas not a
few for you!
GIRLS. If you‘ll marry me, I‘ll take you in and
du for you!
ALL. All this will I du, if you‘ll marry me!
Eh, but I do loike you!

Country Dance

(At end of dance, enter Constance in tears, leading Notary, who
carries an ear-trumpet)

Aria – CONSTANCE

Dear friends, take pity on my lot,
My cup is not of nectar!
I long have loved – as who would not? –
Our kind and reverend rector.
Long years ago my love began
So sweetly – yet so sadly –
But when I saw this plain old man,
Away my old affection ran –
I found I loved him madly.
Oh!

(To Notary) You very, very plain old man,
I love, I love you madly!
CHORUS. You very, very plain old man,
She loves, she loves you madly!
NOTARY. I am a very deaf old man,
And hear you very badly!

CONST. I know not why I love him so;
It is enchantment, surely!
He‘s dry and snuffy, deaf and slow
Ill-tempered, weak and poorly!
He‘s ugly, and absurdly dressed,
And sixty-seven nearly,
He‘s everything that I detest,
But if the truth must be confessed,
I love him very dearly!
Oh!

(To Notary) You‘re everything that I detest,
But still I love you dearly!

CHORUS. You‘ve everything that girls detest,
But still she loves you dearly!

NOTARY. I caught that line, but for the rest,
I did not hear it clearly!

(During this verse Aline and Alexis have entered at back
unobserved.)

ALINE AND ALEXIS

ALEX Oh joy! oh joy!
The charm works well,
And all are now united.

ALINE. The blind young boy
Obeys the spell,
And troth they all have plighted!

ENSEMBLE

Aline & Alexis Constance Notary

Oh joy! oh joy! Oh, bitter joy! Oh joy! oh joy!
The charm works well, No words can tell No words can tell
And all are now united! How my poor heart My state of mind
The blind young boy is blighted! delighted.
Obeys the spell, They‘ll soon employ They‘ll soon employ
A marriage bell, A marriage bell,
Their troth they all To say that we‘re To say that we‘re
have plighted. united. united.
True happiness I do confess True happiness
Reigns everywhere, A sorrow rare Reigns everywhere
And dwells with both My humbled spirit And dwells with both
the sexes. vexes. the sexes,
And all will bless And none will bless And all will bless
The thoughtful care Example rare Example rare
Of their beloved Of their beloved Of their beloved
Alexis! Alexis! Alexis!
(All, except Alexis and Aline, exeunt lovingly.)

ALINE How joyful they all seem in their new-found
happiness! The whole village has paired off in the happiest
manner. And yet not a match has been made that the hollow world
would not consider ill-advised!
ALEXIS But we are wiser – far wiser – than the world.
Observe the good that will become of these ill-assorted unions.
The miserly wife will check the reckless expenditure of her too
frivolous consort, the wealthy husband will shower innumerable
bonnets on his penniless bride, and the young and lively spouse
will cheer the declining days of her aged partner with comic
songs unceasing!
ALINE What a delightful prospect for him!
ALEXIS But one thing remains to be done, that my happiness
may be complete. We must drink the philtre ourselves, that I may
be assured of your love for ever and ever.
ALINE Oh, Alexis, do you doubt me? Is it necessary that
such love as ours should be secured by artificial means? Oh, no,
no, no!
ALEXIS My dear Aline, time works terrible changes, and I
want to place our love beyond the chance of change.
ALINE Alexis, it is already far beyond that chance. Have
faith in me, for my love can never, never change!
ALEXIS Then you absolutely refuse?
ALINE I do. If you cannot trust me, you have no right to
love me – no right to be loved by me.
ALEXIS Enough, Aline, I shall know how to interpret this
refusal.

BALLAD – ALEXIS

Thou hast the power thy vaunted love
To sanctify, all doubt above,
Despite the gathering shade:
To make that love of thine so sure
That, come what may, it must endure
Till time itself shall fade.
They love is but a flower
That fades within the hour!
If such thy love, oh, shame!
Call it by other name –
It is not love!

Thine is the power and thine alone,
To place me on so proud a throne
That kings might envy me!
A priceless throne of love untold,
More rare than orient pearl and gold.
But no! Thou wouldst be free!
Such love is like the ray
That dies within the day:
If such thy love, oh, shame!
Call it by other name –
It is not love!

Enter Dr. Daly.

DR. D. (musing) It is singular – it is very singular. It
has overthrown all my calculations. It is distinctly opposed to
the doctrine of averages. I cannot understand it.
ALINE Dear Dr. Daly, what has puzzled you?
DR. D. My dear, this village has not hitherto been addicted
to marrying and giving in marriage. Hitherto the youths of this
village have not been enterprising, and the maidens have been
distinctly coy. Judge then of my surprise when I tell you that
the whole village came to me in a body just now, and implored me
to join them in matrimony with as little delay as possible. Even
your excellent father has hinted to me that before very long it
is not unlikely that he may also change his condition.
ALINE Oh, Alexis – do you hear that? Are you not delighted?
ALEXIS Yes, I confess that a union between your mother and
my father would be a happy circumstance indeed. (Crossing to Dr.
Daly) My dear sir – the news that you bring us is very
gratifying.
DR. D. Yes – still, in my eyes, it has its melancholy side.
This universal marrying recalls the happy days – now, alas, gone
forever – when I myself might have – but tush! I am puling. I am
too old to marry – and yet, within the last half-hour, I have
greatly yearned for companionship. I never remarked it before,
but the young maidens of this village are very comely. So
likewise are the middle-aged. Also the elderly. All are
comely – and (with a deep sigh) all are engaged!
ALINE Here comes your father.

Enter Sir Marmaduke with Mrs. Partlet, arm-in-arm

ALINE and ALEXIS (aside). Mrs. Partlet!
SIR M. Dr. Daly, give me joy. Alexis, my dear boy, you
will, I am sure, be pleased to hear that my declining days are
not unlikely to be solaced by the companionship of this good,
virtuous, and amiable woman.
ALEXIS (rather taken aback) My dear father, this is not
altogether what I expected. I am certainly taken somewhat by
surprise. Still it can hardly be necessary to assure you that
any wife of yours is a mother of mine. (Aside to Aline.) It is
not quite what I could have wished.
MRS. P. (crossing to Alexis) Oh, sir, I entreat your
forgiveness. I am aware that socially I am not everything that
could be desired, nor am I blessed with an abundance of worldly
goods, but I can at least confer on your estimable father the
great and priceless dowry of a true, tender, and lovin‘ ‚art!
ALEXIS (coldly) I do not question it. After all, a
faithful love is the true source of every earthly joy.
SIR M. I knew that my boy would not blame his poor father
for acting on the impulse of a heart that has never yet misled
him. Zorah is not perhaps what the world calls beautiful –
DR. D. Still she is comely – distinctly comely. (Sighs)
ALINE Zorah is very good, and very clean, and honest, and
quite, quite sober in her habits: and that is worth far more than
beauty, dear Sir Marmaduke.
DR. D. Yes; beauty will fade and perish, but personal
cleanliness is practically undying, for it can be renewed
whenever it discovers symptoms of decay. My dear Sir Marmaduke,
I heartily congratulate you. (Sighs)

QUINTETTE

ALEXIS, ALINE, SIR MARMADUKE, ZORAH, and DR. DALY

ALEXIS. I rejoice that it‘s decided,
Happy now will be his life,
For my father is provided
With a true and tender wife.
She will tend him, nurse him, mend him,
Air his linen, dry his tears;
Bless the thoughtful fate that send him
Such a wife to soothe his years!

ALINE. No young giddy thoughtless maiden,
Full of graces, airs, and jeers –
But a sober widow, laden
With the weight of fifty years!

SIR M. No high-born exacting beauty
Blazing like a jewelled sun –
But a wife who‘ll do her duty,
As that duty should be done!

MRS. P. I‘m no saucy minx and giddy –
Hussies such as them abound –
But a clean and tidy widdy
Well be-known for miles around!

DR.D. All the village now have mated,
All are happy as can be –
I to live alone am fated:
No one‘s left to marry me!

ENSEMBLE. She will tend him etc.

(Exeunt Sir Marmaduke, Mrs. Partlet, and Aline, with Alexis. Dr. Daly
looks after them sentimentally, then exits with a sigh.)

Enter Mr. Wells

RECITATIVE – MR. WELLS

Oh, I have wrought much evil with my spells!
And ill I can‘t undo!
This is too bad of you, J. W. Wells –
What wrong have they done you?
And see – another love-lorn lady comes –
Alas, poor stricken dame!
A gentle pensiveness her life benumbs –
And mine, alone, the blame!

Lady Sangazure enters. She is very melancholy

LADY S. Alas, ah me! and well-a-day!
I sigh for love, and well I may,
For I am very old and grey.
But stay!

(Sees Mr. Wells, and becomes fascinated by him.)

RECITATIVE

LADY S. What is this fairy form I see before me?
MR. W. Oh horrible! – She‘s going to adore me!
This last catastrophe is overpowering!
LADY S. Why do you glare at one with visage lowering?
For pity‘s sake recoil not thus from me!
MR. W. My lady leave me – this may never be!

DUET – LADY SANGAZURE and MR. WELLS

MR. W. Hate me! I drop my H‘s – have through life!
LADY S. Love me! I‘ll drop them too!
MR. W. Hate me! I always eat peas with a knife!
LADY S. Love me! I‘ll eat like you!
MR. W. Hate me! I spend the day at Rosherville!
LADY S. Love me! that joy I‘ll share!
MR. W. Hate me! I often roll down One Tree Hill!
LADY S. Love me! I‘ll join you there!

LADY S. Love me! My prejudices I will drop!
MR. W. Hate me! that‘s not enough!
LADY S. Love me! I‘ll come and help you in the shop!
MR. W. Hate me! the life is rough!
LADY S. Love me! my grammar I will all forswear!
MR. W. Hate me! abjure my lot!
LADY S. Love me! I‘ll stick sunflowers in my hair!
MR. W. Hate me! they‘ll suit you not!

RECITATIVE – MR. WELLS

At what I am going to say be not enraged –
I may not love you – for I am engaged!
LADY S. (horrified) Engaged!
MR. W. Engaged!
To a maiden fair,
With bright brown hair,
And a sweet and simple smile,
Who waits for me
By the sounding sea,
On a South Pacific isle.
MR. W. (aside) A lie! No maiden waits me there!
LADY S. (mournfully) She has bright brown hair;
MR. W. (aside) A lie! No maiden smiles on me!
LADY S. (mournfully) By the sounding sea!

ENSEMBLE

LADY SANGAZURE MR. W.

Oh agony, rage, despair! Oh, agony, rage, despair!
The maiden has bright brown hair, Oh, where will this end – oh, where?
And mine is as white as snow! I should like very much to know!
False man, it will be your fault, It will certainly be my fault,
If I go to my family vault, If she goes to her family vault,
And bury my life-long woe! To bury her life-long woe!

BOTH. The family vault – the family vault.
It will certainly be (your/my) fault.
If (I go/she goes) to (my/her) family vault,
To bury (my/her) life-long woe!

(Exit Lady Sangazure, in great anguish, accompanied by Mr. Wells.)

Enter Aline, Recitative

Alexis! Doubt me not, my loved one! See,
Thine uttered will is sovereign law to me!
All fear – all thought of ill I cast away!
It is may darling‘s will, and I obey!
(She drinks the philtre.)

The fearful deed is done,
My love is near!
I go to meet my own
In trembling fear!
If o‘er us aught of ill
Should cast a shade,
It was my darling‘s will,
And I obeyed!

(As Aline is going off, she meets Dr. Daly, entering pensively. He
is playing on a flageolet. Under the influence of the spell she
at once becomes strangely fascinated by him, and exhibits every
symptom of being hopelessly in love with him.)

SONG – DR. DALY

Oh, my voice is sad and low
And with timid step I go –
For with load of love o‘er laden
I enquire of every maiden,
„Will you wed me, little lady?
Will you share my cottage shady?“
Little lady answers „No!
Thank you for your kindly proffer –
Good your heart, and full your coffer;
Yet I must decline your offer –
I‘m engaged to So-and-so!“
So-and-so!
So-and-so! (flageolet solo)
She‘s engaged to So-and-so!
What a rogue young hearts to pillage;
What a worker on Love‘s tillage!
Every maiden in the village
Is engage to So-and-so!
So-and-so!
So-and-so! (flageolet solo)
All engaged to So-and-so!

(At the end of the song Dr. Daly sees Aline, and, under the
influence of the potion, falls in love with her.)

ENSEMBLE – ALINE and DR. DALY.

Oh, joyous boon! oh, mad delight;
Oh, sun and moon! oh, day and night!
Rejoice, rejoice with me!
Proclaim our joy, ye birds above –
Yet brooklets, murmur forth our love,
In choral ecstasy:
ALINE. Oh, joyous boon!
DR. D. Oh, mad delight!
ALINE. Oh, sun and moon!
DR. D. Oh, day and night!
BOTH. Ye birds, and brooks, and fruitful trees,
With choral joy, delight the breeze –
Rejoice, rejoice with me!

Enter Alexis

ALEXIS (with rapture). Aline my only love, my happiness!
The philtre – you have tasted it?
ALINE (with confusion). Yes! Yes!
ALEXIS Oh, joy, mine, mine for ever, and for aye!
(Embraces her.)
ALINE Alexis, don‘t do that – you must not!

(Dr. Daly interposes between them)

ALEXIS (amazed). Why?

DUET – ALINE and DR. DALY

ALINE. Alas! that lovers thus should meet:
Oh, pity, pity me!
Oh, charge me not with cold deceit;
Oh, pity, pity me!
You bade me drink – with trembling awe
I drank, and, by the potion‘s law,
I loved the very first I saw!
Oh, pity, pity, me!

DR. D. My dear young friend, consoled be –
We pity, pity you.
In this I‘m not an agent free –
We pity, pity you.
Some most extraordinary spell
O‘er us has cast its magic fell –
The consequence I need not tell.
We pity, pit you.

ENSEMBLE

Some most extraordinary spell
O‘er (us/them) has cast its magic fell –
The consequence (we/they) need not tell.
(We/They) pity, pity (thee!/me).

ALEXIS (furiously) False one, begone – I spurn thee,
To thy new lover turn thee!
Thy perfidy all men shall know,
ALINE. (wildly) I could not help it!
ALEXIS (calling off) Come one, come all!
DR. D. We could not help it!
ALEXIS (calling off) Obey my call!
ALINE (wildly) I could not help it!
ALEXIS (calling off) Come hither, run!
DR. D. We could not help it!
ALEXIS (calling off) Come, every one!

Enter all the characters except Lady Sangazure and Mr. Wells

CHORUS

Oh, what is the matter, and what is the clatter?
He‘s glowering at her, and threatens a blow!
Oh, why does he batter the girl he did flatter?
And why does the latter recoil from him so?

RECITATIVE – ALEXIS

Prepare for sad surprises –
My love Aline despises!
No thought of sorrow shames her –
Another lover claims her!
Be his, false girl, for better or for worse –
But, ere you leave me, may a lover‘s curse –

DR. D. (coming forward) Hold! Be just. This poor child
drank the philtre at your instance. She hurried off to meet
you – but, most unhappily, she met me instead. As you had
administered the potion to both of us, the result was inevitable.
But fear nothing from me – I will be no man‘s rival. I shall quit
the country at once – and bury my sorrow in the congenial gloom of
a Colonial Bishopric.
ALEXIS My excellent old friend! (Taking his hand – then
turning to Mr. Wells, who has entered with Lady Sangazure.) Oh, Mr.
Wells, what, what is to be done?
WELLS I do not know – and yet – there is one means by which
this spell may be removed.
ALEXIS Name it – oh, name it!
WELLS Or you or I must yield up his life to Ahrimanes. I
would rather it were you. I should have no hesitation in
sacrificing my own life to spare yours, but we take stock next
week, and it would not be fair on the Co.
ALEXIS True. Well, I am ready!
ALINE No, no – Alexis – it must not be! Mr. Wells, if he
must die that all may be restored to their old loves, what is to
become of me? I should be left out in the cold, with no love to
be restored to!
WELLS True – I did not think of that. (To the others) My
friends, I appeal to you, and I will leave the decision in your
hands.

FINALE

MR. W. Or I or he
Must die!
Which shall it be?
Reply!
SIR M. Die thou!
Thou art the cause of all offending!
DR. D. Die thou!
Yield to this decree unbending!
ALL. Die thou!
MR. W. So be it! I submit! My fate is sealed.
To public execration thus I yield!

(Falls on trap)

Be happy all – leave me to my despair –
I go – it matters not with whom – or where!

(Gong)

(All quit their present partners, and rejoin their old lovers.
Sir Marmaduke leaves Mrs. Partlet, and goes to Lady Sangazure. Aline
leaves Dr. Daly, and goes to Alexis. Dr. Daly leaves Aline, and goes
to Constance. Notary leaves Constance, and goes to Mrs. Partlet. All
the Chorus makes a corresponding change.)

ALL

GENTLEMEN. Oh, my adored one!
LADIES. Unmingled joy!
GENTLEMEN. Ecstatic rapture!
LADIES. Beloved boy!

(They embrace)

SIR M. Come to my mansion, all of you! At least
We‘ll crown our rapture with another feast!

ENSEMBLE

SIR MARMADUKE, LADY SANGAZURE, ALEXIS, and ALINE

Now to the banquet we press –
Now for the eggs and the ham –
Now for the mustard and cress –
Now for the strawberry jam!

CHORUS Now to the banquet, etc.

DR. DALY, CONSTANCE, NOTARY, and MRS. PARTLET

Now for the tea of our host –
Now for the rollicking bun –
Now for the muffin and toast –
Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

CHORUS. Now for the tea, etc.

(General Dance)

(During the symphony Mr. Wells sinks through the trap, amid red fire.)

CURTAIN

Zur Übersicht zurück

Trial by Jury

A Dramatic Cantata (in einem Akt)

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

Zur Übersicht zurück

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 Angli-
cized?

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 fa-
vored 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 corus-
cation 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 present-
ing 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 accus-
tom 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 neverthe-
less 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, conse-
quently 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 cir-
cumstances I really think I am justified in exclaiming
„Lalabelele molola lililah kalabalale poo!“ (All horri-
fied.) 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 preced-
ed 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 funni-
est 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 Sover-
eign“ – 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 thou-
sands 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 absurdi-
ties 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 adven-
turous 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 irre-
sistible 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 else-
where. 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 founda-
tion 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 suffi-
ciently 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 should-
n‘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 em-
phatically 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 assis-
tance, 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 des-
potic 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. Unpleas-
antly 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 remodel-
ling 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 civiliza-
tion 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 any-
thing 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? Be-
sides (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 Admiral-
ty 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 tal-
ents full play and introduced reforms which, even in Eng-
land, were never dreamt of!

Zara: But perhaps the most beneficent changes of all has been ef-
fected 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 trans-
mute, 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 taste-
ful 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 long-
ing 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 enthu-
siasm 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 conduct-
ed 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 neces-
sarily 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 prac-
tice 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 ques-
tion.
Of „risky“ situation and indelicate suggestion;
No piece is tolerated if it‘s costumed indiscreetly –

Chorus: In short this happy country has been Anglicized com-
pletely!
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 Prin-
cesses? What an extraordinary thing it is that since Euro-
pean looking-glasses have been supplied to the Royal bed-
rooms 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 Chamber-
lain) 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 ceremo-
nial, so no giggling, if you please. Now, my Lord Chamber-
lain, we are ready.

Lord D.: Then, ladies and gentlemen, places, if you please. His Maj-
esty 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 unpardon-
able. 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 pub-
licly 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 or-
dered 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, recon-
vert him into an individual, and insist on his immediate ex-
plosion! (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 with-
out 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 inno-
cence.

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 forgot-
ten 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 coun-
try will be at a standstill. Then there will be sickness in
plenty, endless lawsuits, crowded jails, interminable confu-
sion in the Army and Navy, and, in short, general and unex-
ampled 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.

Zur Übersicht zurück

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.

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

Overture

Act I

1. When maiden loves, she sits and sighs (INTRODUCTION AND
SONG) Phoebe
1A. When jealous torments rack my soul (OPTIONAL SONG) Wilfred
2. Tower warders, Under orders (DOUBLE CHORUS) People and Yeomen, with Solo 2nd Yeoman
3. When our gallant Norman foes (SONG WITH CHORUS) Dame Carruthers and Yeomen
3A. A laughing boy (OPTIONAL SONG) Sergeant Meryll
4. Alas! I waver to and fro (TRIO) Phoebe, Leonard, and Meryll
5. Is life a boon? (BALLAD) Fairfax
6. Here‘s a man of jollity (CHORUS) People, Elsie, and Jack Point
7. I have a song to sing, O! (DUET) Elsie and Point
8. How say you, maiden, will you wed (TRIO) Elsie, Point, and Lieutenant
9. I‘ve jibe and joke (SONG) Point
10. ‚Tis done! I am a bride! (RECITATIVE AND SONG) Elsie
11. Were I thy bride (SONG) Phoebe
12. Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true (FINALE OF ACT I) Ensemble

Act II

13. Night has spread her pall once more (CHORUS AND SOLO)
People, Yeomen, and Dame Carruthers
14. Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon (SONG) Point
15. Hereupon we‘re both agreed (DUET) Point and Wilfred
16. Free from his fetters grim (BALLAD) Fairfax
17. Strange adventure! (QUARTET) Kate, Dame, Carruthers, Fairfax and Sergeant Meryll
18. Hark! What was that, sir? (SCENE) Elsie, Phoebe, Dame Carruthers, Fairfax. Wilfred, Point, Lieutenant, SergeantMeryll, and Chorus
19. A man who would woo a fair maid (TRIO) Fairfax, Elsie, and Phoebe
20. When a wooer goes a-wooing (QUARTET) Elsie, Phoebe, Fairfax, and Point
21. Rapture, rapture! (DUET) Dame Carruthers and Sergeant Meryll
22. Comes the pretty young bride (FINALE) Ensemble

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 assistant-
tormentor 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 half-
past 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.

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.

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-a-
score others – all packed into one small cell, not six
feet square. Poor Colonel Fairfax, who‘s to die to-
day, 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!

[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 feather-
brain, 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 a-
bed 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 cross-
bones?

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 hang-
dog 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 cock-
on-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!

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

Zur Übersicht zurück

The Golden Legend

Index:

PROLOGUE – LUCIFER AND CHORUS.

SOLO AND CHORUS ... ... ... „Hasten, hasten“

SCENE I – PRINCE HENRY, LUCIFER AND CHORUS.

SOLO... ... ... ... ... “ I cannot sleep“

DUET ... ... ... “ All hail, Prince Henry“

SOLO (and Chorus of Female Voices) “ Through every vein“

SCENE II – ELSIE, URSULA, PRINCE HENRY AND CHORUS.

INTRODUCTION AND SOLO ... ... “ Slowly, slowly“

CHORUS ... ... Evening Hymn – “ O gladsome Light“

DUET ... ... ... “ Who was it said Amen ?“

SOLO... ... ... ... “ My Redeemer and my Lord“

SCENE III – ELSIE, PRINCE HENRY, LUCIFER AND CHORUS.

DUET ... ... ... „Onward and onward“

CHOEUS“) ... ... ... „Me receptet Sion illa“

SOLO ) ... ... ... ... „Here am I too“

SOLO... ... ... ... ... „It is the sea“

SOLO AND GHOBUS ... ... „The night is calm and cloudless“

SCENE IV – ELSIE, PRINCE HENRY, LUCIFER AND CHORUS. ENSEMBLE ... ... ... ...“My guests approach“

SCENE V – URSULA AND A FOBESTEB.

KECITATIVB ... ... ... ... „Who is it coming“

SOLO... ... ... “ Virgin, who lovest the poor and lowly“

SCENE VI – ELSIE AND PRINCE HENRY. DUET ... ... ... ... “ “We are alone“

EPILOGUE. CHORUS ... ... ...“ God sent His messenger, the rain“

Argument

PBINCE HENRY, of Hoheneck, lying sick in body and mind at his Castle of Vantaberg, on the Rhine, has consulted the famous physicians of Salerno, and learned that he can be cured only by the blood of a maiden who shall, of her own free will, consent to die for his sake. Regarding the remedy as impossible, the Prince gives way to despair, when he is visited by Lucifer, disguised as a travelling physician. The Fiend tempts him with alcohol, to the fascination of which he ultimately yields in such measure as to be deprived of place and power, and driven forth as an outcast.

Prince Henry finds shelter in the cottage of one of his vassals, whose daughter, Elsie, moved by great compassion for his rate, resolves to sacrifice her life that he might be restored. The prayers of her mother, Ursula, are of no avail to turn her from this purpose, and, in due time, Prince Henry, Elsie, and their attendants set out for Salerno. On their way they encounter a band of pilgrims, with whom is Lucifer, in the garb of a friar. He also is journeying to Salerno.

On reaching their destination, Prince Henry and Elsie are received by Lucifer, who has assumed the form of Friar Angelo, a doctor of the medical school. Elsie persists in her resolve to die, despite the opposition of the Prince, -who now declares that he intended to do no more than test her constancy. Lucifer draws Elsie into an inner chamber, but the Prince and attendants, breaking down the door, rescue her at the last moment.

Miraculously healed, Prince Henry marries the devoted maiden, and is restored to his rightful place.

The six scenes illustrate passages in the foregoing story. In the Prologue, the defeat of Lucifer is foreshadowed by an impotent attempt to wreck the Cathedral of Strasburg. In the Epilogue, the beneficent devotion of Elsie is compared to the course of a mountain brook, which cools and fertilises the arid plain.

Libretto

Prologue

– The Spire of Strasburg Cathedral

Night and storm. LUCIFER, with the Powers of the Air, trying to tear down the Cross.

Lucifer. Hasten! Hasten! O ye spirits !

From its station drag the ponderous

Cross of iron, that to mock us

Is uplifted high in air !

Voices. O, we cannot;

For around it

All the saints and guardian angels

Throng in legions to protect it;

They defeat us everywhere !

The Bells. Laudo Deum verum! Plebem voco! Congrego clerum!

Lucifer. Lower! Lower ! Hover downward!

Seize the loud vociferous bells, and

Clashing, clanging, to the pavement

Hurl them from their windy tower.

Voices.

All thy thunders

Here are harmless!

For these bells have been anointed

And baptized with holy water !

They defy our utmost power.

The Bells. Defunctos ploro ! Pestem fugo! Festa decoro.

Lucifer. Shake the casements! Break the painted

Panes, that flame with gold and crimson ;

Scatter them like leaves of Autumn,

Swept away before the blast!

Voices. O, we cannot;

The Archangel Michael flames from every window, with the sword of fire that drove us,

Leadlong, out of heaven, aghast!

The Bells.

Funera plango! Fulgura frango! Sabbata pango!

Lucifer. Aim your lightnings At the oaken,

Massive, iron studded portals!

Sack the house of God, and scatter

Wide the ashes of the dead !

Voices. O, we cannot;

The Apostles

And the Martyrs, wrapped in mantles,

Stand as warders at the entrance,

Stand as sentinels o‘vrhead!

The Bells.

Excito leutos ! Dissipo vontos ! ‚Paco cruentos !

Lucifer.

Baffled! baffled!

Inefficient,

Craven spirits ! leave this labour

Unto Time, the great Destroyer!

Come away, ere night is gone !

Voices. Onward ! onward ! With the night-wind,

Over field, and farm, and forest,

Lonely homestead, darksome hamlet,

Blighting all we breathe upon.

[They sweep away. Organ and Gregorian Chant.]

Choir

Nocte surgentes

Vigilemus omues.

SCENE I

– The Castle of Vautsberg on the Rhine. A chamber in a tower. PRINCE HENRY sitting alone, ill, and restless. Midnight.

Prince Henry. I cannot sleep ! my fevered brain

Calls up the vanished Past again,

And throws its misty splendours deep

Into the pallid realms of sleep ! Best, rest!

O give me rest and peace !

The thought of life that ne‘er shall cease

Has something in it like despair,

A weight I am too weak to bear !

Sweeter to this afflicted breast,

The thought of never-ending rest ! Sweeter the undisturbed and deep

Tranquillity of endless sleep.

[A flash of lightning, out of which LUCIFER

appears, in the garb of a travelling

Physician. ]

Lucifer. All hail, Prince Henry !

Prince. Who is it speaks ? What may your wish and purpose be?

Lucifer. Your Highness, you behold in me

Only a travelling pliysician ;

One of the few who have a mission

To cure incurable diseases,

Or those that are called so.

What is your illness ?

Prince. It has no name. A smouldering, dull, perpetual flame.

Even the doctors of Salern

Send me back word they can discern

No cure for a malady like this,

Save one, which in its nature is

Impossible, and cannot be.

Lucifer. What is their remedy ?

Prince. You shall see;

Writ in this scroll is the mystery.

Lucifer.

[Reading.]

„The only remedy that remains

Is tho blood that flows from a maiden‘s veins,

Who of her own free will shall die,

And give her life as the price of yours.“

That is the strangest of all cures,

And one, I think, you will never try.

Meanwhile permit me to recommend

As the matter admits of no delay,

My wonderful Catholicon,

Of very subtle and magical powers.

Prince.

Purge with your nostrums and drugs infernal,

The spouts and gargoyles of these towers,

Not me.

My faith is utterly gone

In every power but the Power Supernatural.

Lucifer [showing a flash].

Behold it here! This little flask

Contains the wonderful quintessence,

The perfect flowers and efflorescence

Of all the knowledge man can ask!

‚tis Alcohol, in the Arab speech

Of him whose wondrous lore I teach!

Prince.

How limpid, pure, and crystalline!

The little wavelets dance and shine!

Lucifer [pouring].

Let not the quantity alarm you;

You may drink all; it will not harm you.

Angels.

Ah! What in ambush lurks below!

Woe, woe, eternal woe!

This fearful curse

Shakes the great universe.

Lucifer [disappearing].

Drink, drink, and thy soul shall sink

Down into the deep abyss.

Prince [drinking]

Through every vein

I feel again

The fever of youth, the soft desire.

A rapture that is almost pain

Throbs in my heart, and fills my brain.

Angels.

Beware, o beware!

For sickness, sowwow, and care,

All are there.

Prince [sinking back].

Golden visions wave and hover,

Golden vapours, waters streaming,

Landscapes moving, changing, gleaming!

I am like a happa lover.

[His head falls on his book.]

Angels [receding].

Alas, alas!

Like a vapour, the golden vision

Shall fade and pass.

SCENE II

– Before the house of URSULA. Villagers have gathered after labour. Evening.

Ursula.

Slowly, slowly up the wall,

Steals the sunshine, steals the shade,

Evening damps begin to fall,

Evening shadows are displayed.

Shafts of sunshine from the west

Paint the dusky windows red.

Darker shadows, deeper rest,

Underneath and overhead.

[Lamps are lit in the house. ]

EVENING HYMN.

Villagers. “ O gladsome Light “ –

Of the Father immortal,

And of the celestial

Sacred and blessed

Jesus our Saviour !

Now to the sunset

Again hast Thou brought us,

And, seeing the evening

Twilight, we bless Thee,

Praise Thee, adore Thee.

Father Omnipotent!

Son, the Life-giver !

Spirit, the Comforter !

Worthy at all times

Of worship and wonder !

Prince Henry. [At the door.]

Amen.

[The Villagers disperse to their homes.]

Ursula. Who was it said Amen ?

Elsie. It was the Prince. He is gone again. Would I could do something for his sake;

Something to cure his Borrow and pain !

Ursula. That no one can, neither thou nor I,

Nor any one else.

Elsie. And must he die ?

Ursula.

Unless some maiden of her own accord

Offers her life for that of her lord.

Elsie. I will.

Ursula. Foolish child, be still.

Elsie. I mean it truly; for his sake

I will myself the offering make,

And give my life to purchase his.

Ursula. My child, my child, thou must not die !

Elsie. Why should I live ? do I not know

The life of woman is full of woe ?

Toiling on and on and on,

With breaking heart and tearful eyes,

And silent lips; and in the soul

The secret longings that arise,

Which this world never satisfies !

Ursula. Ah, woe is me! Ah, woe is me !

Alas that I should live to see

Thy death, beloved, and to stand.

Above thy grave. Ah, woe the day !

Elsie. Thou wilt not see it.

I shall lie beneath the flowers of another land,

For at Salerno, far away,

Over the mountains, over the sea,

It is appointed me to die.

Ursula.

In God‘s own time, my heart‘s delight,

When He shall call thee ; not before.

Elsie. I heard Him call. When Christ ascended

Triumphantly from star to star,

He left the gates of Heaven ajar.

I had a vision in the night

And saw Him standing at the door

Of His Father‘s mansion, vast and splendid,

And beckoning to me from afar.

Ursula [entering tfie house].

What if this were of God! Ah ! then Gainsay dare I not. Amen.

Elsie. [left alone].

My Redeemer and my Lord,

I beseech Thee, I entreat Thee,

Guide me in each act and word,

That hereafter I may meet Thee,

Watching, waiting, hoping, yearning,

With my lamp well trimmed and burning.

If my feeble prayer can reach Thee,

O, my Saviour, I beseech Thee,

Let me follow where Thou leadest,

Let me, bleeding as Thou bleedest,

Die, if dying I may give Life to one who asks to live;

And more nearly,

Dying thus, resemble Thee.

[PRINCE HENRY enters.]

Elsie.

My life is little – Only a cup of water

But pure and limpid ;

Take it, O my Prince !

Let it refresh you,

Let it restore you,

May God bless the gift I

Angels. Amen.

Prince. And the giver.

Angels. Amen.

[The PRINCE and ELSIE pass slowly into the house. It is now dark. ]

SCENE III

– On the road to Salerno. PRINCE HENRY, ELSIE, and their attendants.

Elsie. Onward and onward

the highway runs to the distant city,

impatiently bearing

Tidings of human joy and disaster,

of love and of hate, of doing and daring !

Prince Henry. This life of ours

is a wild Aeolian harp of many a joyous strain,

But under them all there runs a loud perpetual

wail, as of souls in pain.

Elsie.

All the hedges are white with dust, while onward the horses toil and strain.

Prince Henry.

Now they stop at the wayside inn, and the waggoner laughs with the landlord‘s daughter.

Elsie.

All through life there are wayside inns, where man may refresh his soul with love ;

Even the lowest may quench his thirst at rivulets fed by springs from above.

[They turn down a green lane.]

Elsie. Sweet is the air with the budding haws,

and the valley stretching for miles below

Is white with blossoming cherry trees, as if just covered with lightest snow.

Prince Henry. Hark, what sweet sounds art those,

whose accents holy

Fill the warm noon with music sad and sweet ?

Elsie. It is a band of pilgrims moving slowly

On their long journey, with uncovered feet.

Pilgrims.

[Chanting the hymn of St. Hildebert.]

Me receptet Sion ilia,

Sion David, urbs tranquilla,

Cujus faber auctor lucis,

Cujus portae lignum crucis,

Cujus clavis lingua Petri,

Cujus cives sempcr Iaeti,

Cujus muri lapis vivus,

Cujus custos Rex festivus !

Lucifer. [As a Friar in the procession].

Here am I, too, in the pious band,

The soles of my feet are hard and tanned.

There is my German Prince again,

Far on his journey to Salern,

And the love-sick girl, whose heated brain

Is sowing the cloud to reap the rain;

But it‘s a long road that lias no turn!

Let them quietly hold their way,

I have also a part in the play.

But first I must act to my heart‘s content

This mummery and this merriment,

And drive this motley flock of sheep

Into the fold where drink and sleep

The jolly old friars of Benevent.

Of a truth, it often provokes me to laugh,

To see these beggars hobble along,

Lamed and maimed and fed upon chaff,

Chanting their wonderful piff and paff,

And, to make up for not understanding the song,

Singing it fiercely, and wild, and strong !

Pilgrims.

In hac urbe, lux solennis,

Ver asternum, pax perenuis;

In hac odor implens coelos,

In hac semper festum melos !

[The Pilgrims pass on, their chant is heard in the distance.]

Urbs ccelestis, urbs beata,

Supra petram collocata,

Urbs in portu satis tuto,

De longiuquo te saluto,

Te saluto, te suspiro,

Te affecto, te requiro !

[PRINCE HENRY, ELSIE, and Attendants journey on. They reach a height overlooking the sea and encamp. Evening. ]

Prince Henry.

It is the sea, it is the sea,

In all its vague immensity ;

Fading and darkening in the distance !

Silent, majestical, and slow

The white ships haunt it to and fro,

With all their ghostly sails unfurled,

As phantoms from another world

Haunt the dim confines of existence.

Elsie. The night is calm and cloudless,

And still as still can be,

The stars come forth to listen

To the music of the sea ;

In snow-white robes uprising

The ghostly choirs respond, And sadly and unceasing

The mournful voice sings on,

And the snow-white choirs still answer, Christe eleison!

Attendants. The night is calm and cloudless,

And still as still can be,

The stars come forth to listen

To the music of the sea;

In snow-white robes uprising

The ghostly choirs respond,

And sadly and unceasing

The mournful voice sings on,

And the snow-white choirs still answer, Christe eleison !

SCENE IV

– The Medical School at Salerno, LUCIFER dressed as a doctor.

Lucifer. My guests approach !

There is in the air

An odour of innocence and of prayer !

I cannot breathe such an atmosphere;

My soul is filled with a nameless fear,

That after all my restless endeavour,

The most ethereal, most divine,

Will escape from my hands for ever and ever.

But the other is already mine.

[Enter PRINCE HENRY and ELSIE, with attendants.]

Prince. Can you direct us to Friar Angelo ?

Lucifer. He stands before you.

Prince. Then you know our purpose.

I am Prince Henry of Hoheneck, and this

The maiden that I spake of.

Lucifer.

Does she

Without compulsion, of her own free will,

Consent to this ?

Prince. Against all opposition. She will not be persuaded.

Lucifer. [To ELSIE.]

Have you thought well of it ?

Elsie. I come not here to argue,. But to die.

Attendants. O pure in heart ! from thy sweet dust shall grow

Lilies, upon whose petals will be written “ Ave Maria“ in characters of gold !

Elsie. [to tlie Attendants.]

Weep not, my friends ! rather rejoice with me,

I shall not feel the pain, but shall be gone,

And you will have another friend in heaven.

There is no more to say, let us go in.

Prince.

Not one step further !

I only meant

To put thy courage to the proof.

Friar Angelo! I charge you on your life,

Believe not what she says, for she is mad.

Elsie. Alas ! Prince Henry !

Lucifer. Come with me this way.

[ELSIE goes in with LUCIFER, who thrusts PRINCE HENRY back, and closes the door.]

Prince. Gone, and the light of all my life gone with her !

A sudden darkness falls upon the world.

[to the Attendants]

Why did you not lay hold on her and keep her

From self-destruction ?

Angolo ! Murderer!

[Struggles at the door, but cannot open it.]

Elsie [within]. Farewell, dear Prince, farewell!

Prince and Attendants. Unbar the door !

Lucifer. It is too late !

Prince and Attendants. It shall not be too late !

[They burst the door open and rush in.]

SCENE V

– Ursula‘s Cottage.

Ursula. [Looking through the open door.]

Who is it coming under the trees ?

A man in the Prince‘s livery dressed !

He fills my heart with strange alarm !

[Enter a Forester.]

Forester. Is this the tenant Gottlieb‘s farm?

Ursula. This is his farm and I his wife.

Forester. News from the Prince!

Ursula. Of death or life ?

Forester. Your daughter lives, and the Prince is well.

You will learn, ere long, how it all befell.

Her heart for a moment never failed:

But when they reached Salerno‘s gate,

The Prince‘s nobler self prevailed, And saved her for a nobler fate.

Ursula.

Virgin, who lovest tlie poor and lowly,

If the loud cry of a mother‘s heart

Can ever ascend to where thou art,

Into thy blessed hands and holy,

Receive my prayer of praise and thanksgiving,

Our child -who was dead again is living.

O bring me to her; for mine eyes

Are hungry to behold her face ;

My very soul within me cries ;

My very hands seem to caress her,

To see her, gaze at her, and bless her;

Dear Elsie, child of God and grace.

SCENE VI

– The Castleof Tautsterg on the Rhine. PRINCE HENRY and ELSIE stand on the Terrace.

It is the evening of their marriage day. The sound of bells heard from a distance.

Prince.

We are alone ;

the wedding guests

Bide down the hill with plumes and cloaks,

And the descending dark invests

The forests hoar and haunted oaks.

Elsie. What bells are those that ring so slow,

So mellow, musical, and low ?

Prince. They are the hells of Geisenheim

That with their melancholy chime

Ring out the curfew of the sun.

Elsie. Listen, beloved !

Prime.

They are done.

Dear Elsie, many years ago

These same soft bells at eventide

Rang in the ears of Charlemagne,

As, seated by Fastrada‘s side

At Ingelheim, in all Ins pride,

He heard their sound with secret pain.

EIsie.

Their voices only speak to me

Of peace and deep tranquillity,

And endless confidence in thee.

Prince.

Thou know‘st the story of her ring,

How when the court went back to Aix,

Fastrada died ; and how tlie king

Sat watching by her night and day.

Till into one of the blue lakes

Which water that delicious land,

They cast the ring drawn from her hand ;

And the great monarch sat serene

And sad beside tlie fated shore,

Nor left the land for evermore.

Elsie. That was true love.

Prince.

For him the queen

Ne‘er did what thou hast done for me.

Elsie.

Wilt thou as fond and faithful be ?

Wilt thou so love me after death ?

Prince.

Thou hast Fastrada‘s ring.

Beneath the calm blue waters of thine eyes,

Deep in thy stedfast soul it lies,

And, undisturb‘d by this world‘s breath;

With magic light its jewels shine.

Both.

In life‘s delight, in death‘s dismay,

In storm and sunshine, night and day,

In health and sickness, in decay,

Here and hereafter I am thine.

[They go in.]

CHORAL EPILOGUE.

God sent His messenger, the rain,

And said unto the mountain brook,

„Rise up, and from thy caverns look,

And leap, witli naked snow-white feet,

From the cool hills into the heat

Of the broad and arid plain.“

God sent His messenger of faith,

And whispered in the maiden‘s lieart,

„Rise up, and look from where thou art,

And scatter with unselfish hands

Thy freshness on the barren sands

And solitudes of death.“

The deed divine

Is written in characters of gold

That never shall grow old,

But through all ages

Burn and and shine!

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