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
THESPIS
OR
THE GODS GROWN OLD
Libretto by William S. Gilbert
Music by Arthur S. Sullivan
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
GODS
Jupiter, Aged Diety
Apollo, Aged Diety
Mars, Aged Diety
Diana, Aged Diety
Mercury
THESPIANS
Thespis
Sillimon
Timidon
Tipseion
Preposteros
Stupidas
Sparkeion
Nicemis
Pretteia
Daphne
Cymon
ACT I - Ruined Temple on the Summit of Mount Olympus
ACT II - The same Scene, with the Ruins Restored
ACT I
[Scene—The ruins of the The Temple of the Gods, on summit of
Mount Olympus. Picturesque shattered columns, overgrown with
ivy, etc. R. and L. with entrances to temple (ruined) R. Fallen
columns on the stage. Three broken pillars 2 R.E. At the back of
stage is the approach from the summit of the mountain. This
should be "practicable" to enable large numbers of people to
ascend and descend. In the distance are the summits of adjacent
mountains. At first all this is concealed by a thick fog, which
clears presently. Enter (through fog) Chorus of Stars coming off
duty as fatigued with their night's work]
CHO. Through the night, the constellations,
Have given light from various stations.
When midnight gloom falls on all nations,
We will resume our occupations.
SOLO. Our light, it's true, is not worth mention;
What can we do to gain attention.
When night and noon with vulgar glaring
A great big moon is always flaring.
[During chorus, enter Diana, an elderly goddess. She is carefully
wrapped up in cloaks, shawls, etc. A hood is over her head, a
respirator in her mouth, and galoshes on her feet. During the
chorus, she takes these things off and discovers herself dressed
in the usual costume of the Lunar Diana, the goddess of the moon.
DIA. [shuddering] Ugh. How cold the nights are. I don't know how
it is, but I seem to feel the night air a good deal more than I
used to. But it is time for the sun to be rising. [Calls] Apollo.
AP. [within] Hollo.
DIA. I've come off duty—it's time for you to be getting up.
[Enter Apollo. He is an elderly "buck" with an air of assumed
juvenility and is dressed in dressing gown and smoking cap.
AP. [yawning] I shan't go out today. I was out yesterday and the
day before and I want a little rest. I don't know how it is,but I
seem to feel my work a great deal more than I used to.
DIA. I am sure these short days can't hurt you. Why you don't
rise til six and you're in bed again by five; you should have a
turn at my work and see how you like that—out all night.
AP. My dear sister, I don't envy you—though I remember when I
did—but that was when I was a younger sun. I don't think I'm
quite well. Perhaps a little change of air will do me good. I've
a mind to show myself in London this winter. They'll be very glad
to see me. No. I shan't go out today. I shall send them this
fine, thick wholesome fog and they won't miss me. It's the best
substitute for a blazing sun—and like most substitutes, nothing
at all like the real thing.
[Fog clears away and discovers the scene described. Hurried
music. Mercury shoots up from behind precipice at the back of
stage. He carries several parcels afterwards described. He sits
down, very much fatigued.]
MER. Home at last. A nice time I've had of it.
DIA. You young scamp you've been out all night again. This is the
third time you've been out this week.
MER. Well you're a nice one to blow me up for that.
DIA. I can't help being out all night.
MER. And I can't help being down all night. The nature of Mercury
requires that he should go down when the sun sets, and rise again
when the sun rises.
DIA. And what have you been doing?
MER. Stealing on commission. There's a set of false teeth and a
box of Life Pills for Jupiter—an invisible peruke and a bottle
of hair dye—that's for Apollo—a respirator and a pair of
galoshes—that's for Cupid—a full bottomed chignon, some
auricomous fluid, a box of pearl-powder, a pot of rouge, and a
hare's foot—that's for Venus.
DIA. Stealing. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
MER. Oh, as the god of thieves I must do something to justify my
position.
DIA.and AP. [contemptuously] Your position.
MER. Oh, I know it's nothing to boast of even on earth. Up here,
it's simply contemptible. Now that you gods are too old for your
work, you've made me the miserable drudge of Olympus—groom,
valet, postman, butler, commissionaire, maid of all work, parish
beadle, and original dustman.
AP. Your Christmas boxes ought to be something considerable.
MER. They ought to be but they're not. I'm treated abominably.
I make everybody and I'm nobody. I go everywhere and I'm
nowhere. I do everything and I'm nothing. I've made thunder for
Jupiter, odes for Apollo, battles for Mars, and love for Venus.
I've married couples for Humen and six weeks afterwards, I've
divorced them for Cupid, and in return I get all the kicks while
they pocket the halfpence. And in compensation for robbing me of
the halfpence in question, what have they done for me.
AP. Why they've—ha.ha.ha. they've made you the god of thieves.
MER. Very self denying of them. There isn't one of them who
hasn't a better claim to the distinction than I have.
Oh, I'm the celestial drudge,
For morning to night I must stop at it.
On errands all day I must trudge,
And stick to my work til I drop at it.
In summer I get up at one.
(As a good-natured donkey I'm ranked for it.)
then I go and I light up the sun.
And Phoebus Apollo gets thanked for it.
Well, well, it's the way of the world.
And will be through all its futurity.
Though noodles are baroned and earled,
There's nothing for clever obscurity.
I'm the slave of the Gods, neck and heels,
And I'm bound to obey, though I rate at 'em.
And I not only order their meals,
But I cook 'em and serve'em and wait at 'em.
Then I make all their nectar, I do.
(What a terrible liquor to rack us is.)
And whenever I mix them a brew,
Why all the thanksgivings are Bacchus's.
Well, well, it's the way of the world, etc.....
The reading and writing I teach.
And spelling-books many I've edited.
And for bringing those arts within reach,
That donkey Minerva gets credited.
Then I scrape at the stars with a knife,
And plate-powder the moon (on the days for it).
And I hear all the world and his wife
Awarding Diana the praise for it.
Well, well, it's the way of the world, etc....
[After song—very loud and majestic music is heard]
DIA and MER [looking off] Why, who's this? Jupiter, by Jove.
[Enter Jupiter, an extremely old man, very decrepit, with very
thin straggling white beard, he wears a long braided dressing
gown, handsomely trimmed, and a silk night-cap on his head.
Mercury falls back respectfully as he enters.]
JUP. Good day, Diana. Ah, Apollo. Well, well, well, what's the
matter? What's the matter?
DIA. Why that young scamp Mercury says that we do nothing, and
leave all the duties of Olympus to him. Will you believe it, he
actually says that our influence on earth is dropping down to
nil.
JUP. Well, well. Don't be hard on the lad. To tell you the
truth, I'm not sure that he's far wrong. Don't let it go any
further, but, between ourselves, the sacrifices and votive
offerings have fallen off terribly of late. Why, I can remember
the time when people offered us human sacrifices, no mistake
about it, human sacrifices. Think of that.
DIA. Ah. Those good old days.
JUP. Then it fell off to oxen, pigs, and sheep.
AP. Well, there are worse things than oxen, pigs and sheep.
JUP. So I've found to my cost. My dear sir, between ourselves,
it's dropped off from one thing to another until it has
positively dwindled down to preserved Australian beef. What do
you think of that?
AP. I don't like it at all.
JUP. You won't mention it. It might go further.
DIA. It couldn't fare worse.
JUP. In short, matters have come to such a crisis that there's no
mistake about it—something must be done to restore our
influence, the only question is, what?
MER. [Coming forward in great alarm. Enter Mars]
Oh incident unprecedented.
I hardly can believe it's true.
MARS. Why, bless the boy, he's quite demented.
Why, what's the matter, sir, with you?
AP. Speak quickly, or you'll get a warming.
MER. Why, mortals up the mount are swarming
Our temple on Olympus storming,
In hundreds—aye in thousands, too.
ALL. Goodness gracious
How audacious
Earth is spacious
Why come here?
Our impeding
Their proceeding
Were good breeding
That is clear.
DIA. Jupiter, hear my plea.
Upon the mount if they light.
There'll be an end of me.
I won't be seen by daylight.
AP. Tartarus is the place
These scoundrels you should send to—
Should they behold my face.
My influence there's an end to.
JUP. [looking over precipice]
What fools to give themselves
so much exertion
DIA. A government survey I'll make assertion.
AP. Perhaps the Alpine clubs their diversion.
MER. They seem to be more like a "Cook's" excursion.
ALL. Goodness gracious, etc.
AP. If, mighty Jove, you value your existence,
Send them a thunderbolt with your regards.
JUP. My thunderbolts, though valid at a distance,
Are not effective at a hundred yards.
MER. Let the moon's rays, Diana, strike 'em flighty,
Make 'em all lunatics in various styles.
DIA. My lunar rays unhappily are mighty
Only at many hundred thousand miles.
ALL. Goodness gracious, etc...
[Exeunt Jupiter, Apollo, Diana, and Mercury into ruined temple]
[Enter Sparkeion and Nicemis climbing mountain at back.]
SPAR. Here we are at last on the very summit, and we've left the
others ever so far behind. Why, what's this?
NICE. A ruined palace. A palace on the top of a mountain. I
wonder who lives here? Some mighty kind, I dare say, with wealth
beyond all counting who came to live up here—
SPAR. To avoid his creditors. It's a lovely situation for a
country house though it's very much out of repair.
NICE. Very inconvenient situation.
SPAR. Inconvenient.
NICE. Yes, how are you to get butter, milk, and eggs up here? No
pigs, no poultry, no postman. Why, I should go mad.
SPAR. What a dear little practical mind it is. What a wife you
will make.
NICE. Don't be too sure—we are only partly married—the marriage
ceremony lasts all day.
SPAR. I have no doubt at all about it. We shall be as happy as a
king and queen, though we are only a strolling actor and actress.
NICE. It's very nice of Thespis to celebrate our marriage day by
giving the company a picnic on this lovely mountain.
SPAR. And still more kind to allow us to get so much ahead of all
the others. Discreet Thespis. [kissing her]
NICE,. There now, get away, do. Remember the marriage ceremony
is not yet completed.
SPAR. But it would be ungrateful to Thespis's discretion not to
take advantage of it by improving the opportunity.
NICE. Certainly not; get away.
SPAR. On second thought the opportunity's so good it don't admit
of improvement. There. [kisses her]
NICE. How dare you kiss me before we are quite married?
SPAR. Attribute it to the intoxicating influence of the mountain
air.
NICE. Then we had better do down again. It is not right to
expose ourselves to influences over which we have no control.
SPAR. Here far away from all the world,
Dissension and derision,
With Nature's wonders all unfurled
To our delighted vision,
With no one here
(At least in sight)
To interfere
With our delight,
And two fond lovers sever,
Oh do not free,
Thine hand from mine,
I swear to thee
My love is ever thine
For ever and for ever.
NICE. On mountain top the air is keen,
And most exhilarating,
And we say things we do not mean
In moments less elating.
So please to wait
For thoughts that crop,
En tete-a-tete,
On mountain top,
May not exactly tally
With those that you
May entertain,
Returning to
The sober plain
Of yon relaxing valley
SPAR. Very well—if you won't have anything to say to me, I know
who will.
NICE. Who will?
SPAR. Daphne will.
NICE. Daphne would flirt with anybody.
SPAR. Anybody would flirt with Daphne. She is quite as pretty as
you and has twice as much back-hair.
NICE. She has twice as much money, which may account for it.
SPAR. At all events, she has appreciation. She likes good looks.
NICE. We all like what we haven;t got.
SPAR. She keeps her eyes open.
NICE. Yes—one of them.
SPAR. Which one.
NICE. The one she doesn't wink with.
SPAR. Well, I was engaged to her for six months and if she still
makes eyes at me, you must attribute it to force of habit.
Besides—remember—we are only half-married at present.
NICE. I suppose you mean that you are going to treat me as
shamefully as you treated her. Very well, break it off if you
like. I shall not offer any objection. Thespis used to be very
attentive to me. I'd just as soon be a manager's wife as a fifth-
rate actor's.
[Chorus heard, at first below, then enter Daphne, Pretteia,
Preposteros, Stupidas, Tipseion, Cymon, and other members of
Thespis's company climbing over rocks at back. All carry small
baskets.]
CHO. [with dance] Climbing over rocky mountain
Skipping rivulet and fountain,
Passing where the willows quiver
By the ever rolling river,
Swollen with the summer rain.
Threading long and leafy mazes,
Dotted with unnumbered daisies,
Scaling rough and rugged passes,
Climb the hearty lads and lasses,
Til the mountain-top they gain.
FIRST VOICE. Fill the cup and tread the measure
Make the most of fleeting leisure.
Hail it as a true ally
Though it perish bye and bye.
SECOND VOICE. Every moment brings a treasure
Of its own especial pleasure,
Though the moments quickly die,
Greet them gaily as they fly.
THIRD VOICE. Far away from grief and care,
High up in the mountain air,
Let us live and reign alone,
In a world that's all our own.
FOURTH VOICE. Here enthroned in the sky,
Far away from mortal eye,
We'll be gods and make decrees,
Those may honor them who please.
CHO. Fill the cup and tread the measure...etc.
[After Chorus and Couples enter, Thespis climbing over rocks]
THES. Bless you, my people, bless you. Let the revels commence.
After all, for thorough, unconstrained unconventional enjoyment
give me a picnic.
PREP. [very gloomily] Give him a picnic, somebody.
THES. Be quiet, Preposteros. Don't interrupt.
PREP. Ha. Ha. Shut up again. But no matter.
[Stupidas endeavors, in pantomime, to reconcile him. Throughout
the scene Prep shows symptoms of breaking out into a furious
passion, and Stupidas does all he can to pacify and restrain
him.]
THES. The best of a picnic is that everybody contributes what he
pleases, and nobody knows what anybody else has brought til the
last moment. Now, unpack everybody and let's see what there is
for everybody.
NICE. I have brought you—a bottle of soda water—for the claret-
cup.
DAPH. I have brought you—lettuce for the lobster salad.
SPAR. A piece of ice—for the claret-cup.
PRETT. A bottle of vinegar—for the lobster salad.
CYMON. A bunch of burrage for the claret-cup.
TIPS. A hard boiled egg—for the lobster salad.
STUP. One lump of sugar for the claret-cup.
PREP. He has brought one lump of sugar for the claret-cup? Ha.
Ha. Ha. [laughing melodramatically]
STUP. Well, Preposteros, what have you brought?
PREP. I have brought two lumps of the very best salt for the
lobster salad.
THES. Oh—is that all?
PREP. All. Ha. Ha. He asks if it is all. {Stup. consoles him]
THES. But, I say—this is capital so far as it goes. Nothing
could be better, but it doesn't go far enough. The claret, for
instance. I don't insist on claret—or a lobster—I don't insist
on lobster, but a lobster salad without a lobster, why it isn't
lobster salad. Here, Tipseion.
TIP. [a very drunken, bloated fellow, dressed, however, with
scrupulous accuracy and wearing a large medal around his neck] My
master. [Falls on his knees to Thes. and kisses his robe.]
THES. Get up—don't be a fool. Where's the claret? We arranged
last week that you were to see to that.
TIPS. True, dear master. But then I was a drunkard.
THES. You were.
TIPS. You engaged me to play convivial parts on the strength of
my personal appearance.
THES. I did.
TIPS. Then you found that my habits interfered with my duties as
low comedian.
THES. True.
TIPS. You said yesterday that unless I took the pledge you would
dismiss me from your company.
THES. Quite so.
TIPS. Good. I have taken it. It is all I have taken since
yesterday. My preserver. [embraces him]
THES. Yes, but where's the wine?
TIPS. I left it behind that I might not be tempted to violate my
pledge.
PREP. Minion. [Attempts to get at him, is restrained by Stupidas]
THES. Now, Preposteros, what is the matter with you?
PREP. It is enough that I am down-trodden in my profession. I
will not submit to imposition out of it. It is enough that as
your heavy villain I get the worst of it every night in a combat
of six. I will not submit to insult in the day time. I have come
out. Ha. Ha. to enjoy myself.
THES. But look here, you know—virtue only triumphs at night from
seven to ten—vice gets the best of it during the other twenty
one hours. Won't that satisfy you? [Stupidas endeavours to
pacify him.]
PREP. [Irritated to Stupidas] Ye are odious to my sight. Get out
of it.
STUP. [In great terror] What have I done?
THES. Now what is it. Preposteros, what is it?
PREP. I a — hate him and would have his life.
THES. [to Stup.] That's it—he hates you and would have your
life. Now go and be merry.
STUP. Yes, but why does he hate me?
THES. Oh—exactly. [to Prep.] Why do you hate him?
PREP. Because he is a minion.
THES. He hates you because you are a minion. It explains itself.
Now go and enjoy yourselves. Ha. Ha. It is well for those who can
laugh—let them do so—there is no extra charge. The light-
hearted cup and the convivial jest for them—but for me—what is
there for me?
SILLI. There is some claret-cup and lobster salad [handing some]
THES. [taking it] Thank you. [Resuming] What is there for me but
anxiety—ceaseless gnawing anxiety that tears at my very vitals
and rends my peace of mind asunder? There is nothing whatever
for me but anxiety of the nature I have just described. The
charge of these thoughtless revellers is my unhappy lot. It is
not a small charge, and it is rightly termed a lot because there
are many. Oh why did the gods make me a manager?
SILL. [as guessing a riddle] Why did the gods make him a manager?
SPAR. Why did the gods make him a manager.
DAPH. Why did the gods make him a manager?
PRETT. Why did the gods make him a manager?
THES. No—no—what are you talking about? What do you mean?
DAPH. I've got it—no don't tell us.
ALL. No—no—because—because
THES. [annoyed] It isn't a conundrum. It's misanthropical
question.
DAPH. [Who is sitting with Spar. to the annoyance of Nice. who is
crying alone] I'm sure I don't know. We do not want you. Don't
distress yourself on our account—we are getting on very
comfortably—aren't we Sparkeion.
SPAR. We are so happy that we don't miss the lobster or the
claret. What are lobster and claret compared with the society of
those we love? [embracing Daphne.]
DAPH. Why, Nicemis, love, you are eating nothing. Aren't you
happy dear?
NICE. [spitefully] You are quite welcome to my share of
everything. I intend to console myself with the society of my
manager. [takes Thespis' arm affectionately].
THES. Here I say—this won't do, you know—I can't allow it—at
least before my company—besides, you are half-married to
Sparkeion. Sparkeion, here's your half-wife impairing my
influence before my company. Don't you know the story of the
gentleman who undermined his influence by associating with his
inferiors?
ALL. Yes, yes—we know it.
PREP. [formally] I do not know it. It's ever thus. Doomed to
disappointment from my earliest years. [Stup. endeavours to
console him]
THES. There—that's enough. Preposteros—you shall hear it.
I once knew a chap who discharged a function
On the North South East West Diddlesex Junction.
He was conspicuous exceeding,
For his affable ways, and his easy breeding.
Although a chairman of directions,
He was hand in glove with the ticket inspectors.
He tipped the guards with brand new fivers,
And sang little songs to the engine drivers.
'Twas told to me with great compunction,
By one who had discharged with unction
A chairman of directors function
On the North South East West Diddlesex Junction.
Fol diddle, lol diddle, lol lol lay.
Each Christmas day he gave each stoker
A silver shovel and a golden poker.
He'd button holw flowers for the ticket sorters
And rich Bath-buns for the outside porters.
He'd moun the clerks on his first-class hunters,
And he build little villas for the road-side shunters,
And if any were fond of pigeon shooting,
He'd ask them down to his place at Tooting.
Twas told to me....etc.
In course of time there spread a rumour
That he did all this from a sense of humour.
So instead of signalling and stoking,
They gave themselves up to a course of joking.
Whenever they knew that he was riding,
They shunted his train on a lonely siding,
Or stopped all night in the middle of a tunnel,
On the plea that the boiler was a-coming through the funnel.
Twas told to me...etc.
It he wished to go to Perth or Stirling,
His train through several counties whirling,
Would set him down in a fit of larking,
At four a.m. in the wilds of Barking.
This pleased his whim and seemed to strike it,
But the general public did not like it.
The receipts fell, after a few repeatings,
And he got it hot at the annual meetings.
Twas told to me...etc.
He followed out his whim with vigour,
The shares went down to a nominal figure.
These are the sad results proceeding
From his affable ways and his easy breeding.
The line, with its rais and guards and peelers,
Was sold for a song to marine store dealers
The shareholders are all in the work'us,
And he sells pipe-lights in the Regent Circus.
Twas told to me...etc.
It's very hard. As a man I am naturally of an easy disposition.
As a manager, I am compelled to hold myself aloof, that my
influence may not be deteriorated. As a man I am inclined to
fraternize with the pauper—as a manager I am compelled to walk
around like this: Don't know yah. Don't know yah. Don't know yah.
[Strides haughtily about the stage. Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo, in
full Olympian costume appear on the three broken columns.
Thespians scream.]
JUP, MARS, AP. Presumptuous mortal.
THES. Don't know ya. Don't know yah.
JUP, MARS, AP. [seated on broken pillars] Presumptuous mortal.
THES. I do not know you. I do not know you.
JUP, MARS, AP. Presumptuous mortal.
THES. Remove this person.
[Stup and Prep seize Ap and Mars]
JUP. Stop, you evidently don't know me. Allow me to offer you my
card. [Throws flash paper]
THES. Ah yes, it's very pretty, but we don't want any at present.
When we do our Christmas piece, I'll let you know. [Changing his
manner] Look here, you know this is a private party and we
haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance. There are a good many
other mountains about, if you must have a mountain all to
yourself. Don't make me let myself down before my company.
[Resuming] Don't know yah, Don't know yah.
JUP. I am Jupiter, the king of the gods. This is Apollo. This is
Mars. [All kneel to them except Thespis]
THES. Oh. Then as I'm a respectable man, and rather particular
about the company I keep, I think I'll go.
JUP. No—no—stop a bit. We want to consult you on a matter of
great importance. There. Now we are alone. Who are you?
THES. I am Thespis of the Thessalian Theatres.
JUP. The very man we want. Now as a judge of what the public
likes are you impressed with my appearance as father of the gods?
THES. Well to be candid with you, I am not. In fact I'm
disappointed.
JUP. Disappointed?
THES. Yes, you see you're so much out of repair. No, you don't
come up to my idea of the part. Bless you, I've played you often.
JUP. You have.
THES. To be sure I have.
JUP. And how have you dressed the part.
THES. Fine commanding party in the prime of life. Thunderbolt—
full beard—dignified manner—a good eal of this sort of thin
"Don't know ya. Don't know yah. Don't know yah.
JUP. [much affected] I—I'm very much obliged to you. It's very
good of you. I—I—I used to be like that. I can't tell you how
much I feel it. And do you find I'm an impressive character to
play?
THES. Well no, I can't say you are. In fact we don't you you
much out of burlesque.
JUP. Burlesque!
THES. Yes, it's a painful subject, drop it, drop it. The fact
is, you are not the gods you were—you're behind your age.
JUP. Well, but what are we to do? We feel that we ought to do
something, but we don't know what.
THES. Why don't you all go down to earth, incog, mingle with the
world, hear and see what people think of you, and judge for
yourselves as to the best means to take to restore your
influence?
JUP. Ah, but what's to become of Olympus in the meantime?
THES. Lor' bless you, don't distress yourself about that. I've a
very good company, used to take long parts on the shortest
notice. Invest us with your powers and we'll fill your places
till you return.
JUP. [aside] The offer is tempting. But suppose you fail?
THES. Fail. Oh, we never fail in our profession. We've nothing
but great successes.
JUP. Then it's a bargain.
THES. It's a bargain. [they shake hands on it]
JUP. And that you may not be entirely without assistance, we will
leave you Mercury and whenever you find yourself in a difficulty
you can consult him. [enter Mercury]
JUP. So that's arranged—you take my place, my boy,
While we make trial of a new existence.
At length I will be able to enjoy
The pleasures I have envied from a distance.
MER. Compelled upon Olympus here to stop,
While the other gods go down to play the hero.
Don't be surprised if on this mountain top
You find your Mercury is down at zero.
AP. To earth away to join in mortal acts.
And gather fresh materials to write on.
Investigate more closely, several facts,
That I for centuries have thrown some light on.
DIA. I, as the modest moon with crescent bow.
Have always shown a light to nightly scandal,
I must say I'd like to go below,
And find out if the game is worth the candle.
[enter all thespians, summoned by Mercury]
MER. Here come your people.
THES. People better now.
THES. While mighty Jove goes down below
With all the other deities.
I fill his place and wear his "clo,"
The very part for me it is.
To mother earth to make a track,
They are all spurred and booted, too.
And you will fill, till they come back,
The parts you best are suited to.
CHO. Here's a pretty tale for future Iliads and Odysseys
Mortals are about to personate the gods and goddesses.
Now to set the world in order, we will work in unity.
Jupiter's perplexity is Thespis's opportunity.
SPAR. Phoebus am I, with golden ray,
The god of day, the god of day.
When shadowy night has held her sway,
I make the goddesses fly.
Tis mine the task to wake the world,
In slumber curled, in slumber curled.
By me her charms are all unfurled
The god of day am I.
CHO. The god of day, the god of day,
The park shall our Sparkeion play,
Ha Ha, etc.
The rarest fun and rarest fare
That ever fell to mortal share
Ha ha etc.
NICE. I am the moon, the lamp of night.
I show a light — I show a light.
With radiant sheen I put to flight
The shadows of the sky.
By my fair rays, as you're aware,
Gay lovers swear—gay lovers swear,
While greybeards sleep away their care,
The lamp of night am I.
CHO. The lamp of night-the lamp of night.
Nicemis plays, to her delight.
Ha Ha Ha Ha.
The rarest fun and rarest fare,
That ever fell to mortal share,
Ha Ha Ha Ha
TIM. Mighty old Mars, the god of war,
I'm destined for—I'm destined for.
A terribly famous conqueror,
With sword upon his thigh.
When armies meet with eager shout
And warlike rout, and warlike rout,
You'll find me there without a doubt.
The God of War am I.
CHO. The god of war, the god of war
Great Timidon is destined for.
Ha Ha Ha Ha
The rest fun and rarest fare
That ever fell to mortal share
Ha Ha Ha Ha
DAPH. When, as the fruit of warlike deeds,
The soldier bleed, the soldier bleeds,
Calliope crowns heroic deeds,
With immortality.
From mere oblivion I reclaim
The soldier's name, the soldier's name
And write it on the roll of fame,
The muse of fame am I.
CHO. The muse of fame, the muse of fame.
Callipe is Daphne's name.
Ha Ha Ha Ha
The rarest fun and rarest fare,
That ever fell to mortal share.
Ha Ha Ha Ha.
TUTTI. Here's a pretty tale.
[Enter procession of old Gods, they come down very much
astonished at all they see, then passing by, ascent the platform
that leads to the descent at the back.]
GODS. We will go,
Down below,
Revels rare,
We will share.
Ha Ha Ha
With a gay
Holiday
All unknown,
And alone
Ha Ha Ha.
TUTTI. Here's a pretty tale.
[The gods, including those who have lately entered in procession
group themselves on rising ground at back. The Thespians kneeling
bid them farewell.]
ACT II
SCENE-the same scene as in Act I with the exception that in place
of the ruins that filled the foreground of the stage, the
interior of a magnificent temple is seen showing the background
of the scene of Act I, through the columns of the portico at the
back. High throne. L.U.E. Low seats below it. All the substitute
gods and goddesses [that is to say, Thespians] are discovered
grouped in picturesque attitudes about the stage, eating and
drinking, and smoking and singing the following verses.
CHO. Of all symposia
The best by half
Upon Olympus, here await us.
We eat ambrosia.
And nectar quaff,
It cheers but don't inebriate us.
We know the fallacies,
Of human food
So please to pass Olympian rosy,
We built up palaces,
Where ruins stood,
And find them much more snug and cosy.
SILL. To work and think, my dear,
Up here would be,
The height of conscientious folly.
So eat and drink, my dear,
I like to see,
Young people gay—young people jolly.
Olympian food my love,
I'll lay long odds,
Will please your lips—those rosy portals,
What is the good, my love
Of being gods,
If we must work like common mortals?
CHO. Of all symposia...etc.
[Exeunt all but Nicemis, who is dressed as Diana and Pretteia,
who is dressed as Venus. They take Sillimon's arm and bring him
down]
SILL. Bless their little hearts, I can refuse them nothing. As
the Olympian stage-manager I ought to be strict with them and
make them do their duty, but i can't. Bless their little hearts,
when I see the pretty little craft come sailing up to me with a
wheedling smile on their pretty little figure-heads, I can't turn
my back on 'em. I'm all bow, though I'm sure I try to be stern.
PRET. You certainly are a dear old thing.
SILL. She says I'm a dear old thing. Deputy Venus says I'm a
dear old thing.
NICE. It's her affectionate habit to describe everybody in those
terms. I am more particular, but still even I am bound to admit
that you are certainly a very dear old thing.
SILL. Deputy Venus says I'm a dear old thing, and Deputy Diana
who is much more particular, endorses it. Who could be severe
with such deputy divinities.
PRET. Do you know, I'm going to ask you a favour.
SILL. Venus is going to ask me a favour.
PRET. You see, I am Venus.
SILL. No one who saw your face would doubt it.
NICE. [aside] No one who knew her character would.
PRET. Well Venus, you know, is married to Mars.
SILL. To Vulcan, my dear, to Vulcan. The exact connubial relation
of the different gods and goddesses is a point on which we must
be extremely particular.
PRET. I beg your pardon—Venus is married to Mars.
NICE. If she isn't married to Mars, she ought to be.
SILL. Then that decides it—call it married to Mars.
PRET. Married to Vulcan or married to Mars, what does it signify?
SILL. My dear, it's a matter on which I have no personal feeling
whatever.
PRET. So that she is married to someone.
SILL. Exactly. So that she is married to someone. Call it married
to Mars.
PRET. Now here's my difficulty. Presumptios takes the place of
Mars, and Presumptios is my father.
SILL. Then why object to Vulcan?
PRET. Because Vulcan is my grandfather.
SILL. But, my dear, what an objection. You are playing a part
till the real gods return. That's all. Whether you are supposed
to be married to your father—or your grandfather, what does it
matter? This passion for realism is the curse of the stage.
PRET. That's all very well, but I can't throw myself into a part
that has already lasted a twelvemonth, when I have to make love
to my father. It interferes with my conception of the
characters. It spoils the part.
SILL. Well, well. I'll see what can be done. [Exit Pretteia,
L.U.E.) That's always the way with beginners, they've no
imaginative power. A true artist ought to be superior to such
considerations. [Nicemis comes down R.] Well, Nicemis, I should
say, Diana, what's wrong with you? Don't you like your part?
NICE. Oh, immensely. It's great fun.
SILL. Don't you find it lonely out by yourself all night?
NICE. Oh, but I'm not alone all night.
SILL. But, I don't want to ask any injudicious questions, but who
accompanies you?
NICE. Who? Why Sparkeion, of course.
SILL. Sparkeion? Well, but Sparkeion is Phoebus Apollo [enter
Sparkeion] He's the sun, you know.
NICE. Of course he is. I should catch my death of cold, in the
night air, if he didn't accompany me.
SPAR. My dear Sillimon, it would never do for a young lady to be
out alone all night. It wouldn't be respectable.
SILL. There's a good deal of truth in that. But still—the sun—
at night—I don't like the idea. The original Diana always went
out alone.
NICE. I hope the original Diana is no rule for me. After all,
what does it matter?
SILL. To be sure—what does it matter?
SPAR. The sun at night, or in the daytime.
SILL. So that he shines. That's all that's necessary. [Exit
Nicemis, R.U.E.] But poor Daphne, what will she say to this.
SPAR. Oh, Daphne can console herself; young ladies soon get over
this sort of thing. Did you never hear of the young lady who was
engaged to Cousin Robin?
SILL. Never.
SPAR. Then I'll sing it to you.
Little maid of Arcadee
Sat on Cousin Robin's knee,
Thought in form and face and limb,
Nobody could rival him.
He was brave and she was fair,
Truth they made a pretty paid.
Happy little maiden she—
Happy maid of Arcadee.
Moments fled as moments will
Happily enough, until
After, say, a month or two,
Robin did as Robins do.
Weary of his lover's play,
Jilted her and went away,
Wretched little maiden, she—
Wretched maid of Arcadee.
To her little home she crept,
There she sat her down and wept,
Maiden wept as maidens will—
Grew so thin and pale—until
Cousin Richard came to woo.
Then again the roses grew.
Happy little maiden she—
Happy maid of Arcadee. [Exit Sparkeion]
SILL. Well Mercury, my boy, you've had a year's experience of us
here. How do we do it? I think we're rather an improvement on the
original gods—don't you?
MER. Well, you see, there's a good deal to be said on both sides
of the question; you are certainly younger than the original
gods, and, therefore, more active. On the other hand, they are
certainly older than you, and have, therefore, more experience.
On the whole I prefer you, because your mistakes amuse me.
Olympus is now in a terrible muddle,
The deputy deities all are at fault
They splutter and splash like a pig in a puddle
And dickens a one of 'em's earning his salt.
For Thespis as Jove is a terrible blunder,
Too nervous and timid—too easy and weak—
Whenever he's called on to lighten or thunder,
The thought of it keeps him awake for a week.
Then mighty Mars hasn't the pluck of a parrot.
When left in the dark he will quiver and quail;
And Vulcan has arms that would snap like a carrot,
Before he could drive in a tenpenny nail.
Then Venus's freckles are very repelling,
And Venus should not have a quint in her eyes;
The learned Minerva is weak in her spelling,
And scatters her h's all over the skies.
Then Pluto in kindhearted tenderness erring,
Can't make up his mind to let anyone die—
The Times has a paragraph ever recurring,
"Remarkable incidence of longevity."
On some it has some as a serious onus,
to others it's quite an advantage—in short,
While ev're life office declares a big bonus,
The poor undertakers are all in the court.
Then Cupid, the rascal, forgetting his trade is
To make men and women impartially smart,
Will only shoot at pretty young ladies,
And never takes aim at a bachelor's heart.
The results of this freak—or whatever you term it—
Should cover the wicked young scamp with disgrace,
While ev'ry young man is as shy as a hermit,
Young ladies are popping all over the place.
This wouldn't much matter—for bashful and shymen,
When skillfully handled are certain to fall,
But, alas, that determined young bachelor Hymen
Refuses to wed anybody at all.
He swears that Love's flame is the vilest of arsons,
And looks upon marriage as quite a mistake;
Now what in the world's to become of the parsons,
And what of the artist who sugars the cake?
In short, you will see from the facts that I'm showing,
The state of the case is exceedingly sad;
If Thespis's people go on as they're going,
Olympus will certainly go to the bad.
From Jupiter downward there isn't a dab in it,
All of 'em quibble and shuffle and shirk,
A premier in Downing Street forming a cabinet,
Couldn't find people less fit for their work.
[enter Thespis L.U.E.]
THES. Sillimon, you can retire.
SILL. Sir, I—
THES. Don't pretend you can't when I say you can. I've seen you
do it—go. [exit Sillimon bowing extravagantly. Thespis imitates
him]Well, Mercury, I've been in power one year today.
MER. One year today. How do you like ruling the world?
THES. Like it. Why it's as straightforward as possible. Why
there hasn't been a hitch of any kind since we came up here. Lor'
the airs you gods and goddesses give yourselves are perfectly
sickening. Why it's mere child's play.
MER. Very simple isn't it?
THES. Simple? Why I could do it on my head.
MER. Ah—I darsay you will do it on your head very soon.
THES. What do you mean by that, Mercury?
MER. I mean that when you've turned the world quite topsy-turvy
you won't know whether you're standing on your head or your
heels.
THES. Well, but Mercury, it's all right at present.
MER. Oh yes—as far as we know.
THES. Well, but, you know, we know as much as anybody knows; you
know I believe the world's still going on.
MER. Yes—as far as we can judge—much as usual.
THES. Well, the, give the Father of the Drama his due Mercury.
Don't be envious of the Father of the Drama.
MER. But you see you leave so much to accident.
THES. Well, Mercury, if I do, it's my principle. I am an easy
man, and I like to make things as pleasant as possible. What did
I do the day we took office? Why I called the company together
and I said to them: "Here we are, you know, gods and goddesses,
no mistake about it, the real thing. Well, we have certain duties
to discharge, let's discharge them intelligently. Don't let us be
hampered by routine and red tape and precedent, let's set the
original gods an example, and put a liberal interpretation on our
duties. If it occurs to any one to try an experiment in his own
department, let him try it, if he fails there's no harm done, if
he succeeds it is a distinct gain to society. Don't hurry your
work, do it slowly and well." And here we are after a twelvemonth
and not a single complaint or a single petition has reached me.
MER. No, not yet.
THES. What do you mean by "no,not yet?"
MER. Well, you see, you don't understand things. All the
petitions that are addressed by men to Jupiter pass through my
hands, and its my duty to collect them and present them once a
year.
THES. Oh, only once a year?
MER. Only once a year—
THES. And the year is up?
MER. Today.
THES. Oh, then I suppose there are some complaints?
MER. Yes, there are some.
THES. [Disturbed] Oh, perhaps there are a good many?
MER. There are a good many.
THES. Oh, perhaps there are a thundering lot?
MER. There are a thundering lot.
THES. [very much disturbed] Oh.
MER. You see you've been taking it so very easy—and so have most
of your company.
THES. Oh, who has been taking it easy?
MER. Well, all except those who have been trying experiments.
THES. Well but I suppose the experiment are ingenious?
MER. Yes; they are ingenious, but on the whole ill-judged. But
it's time go and summon your court.
THES. What for.
MER. To hear the complaints. In five minutes they will be here.
[Exit]
THES. [very uneasy] I don't know how it is, but there is
something in that young man's manner that suggests that the
father of the gods has been taking it too easy. Perhaps it would
have been better if I hadn't given my company so much scope. I
wonder what they've been doing. I think I will curtail their
discretion, though none of them appear to have much of the
article. It seems a pity to deprive 'em of what little they
have.
[Enter Daphne, weeping]
THES. Now then, Daphne, what's the matter with you?
DAPH. Well, you know how disgracefully Sparkeion—
THES. [correcting her] Apollo—
DAPH. Apollo, then—has treated me. He promised to marry me years
ago and now he's married to Nicemis.
THES. Now look here. I can't go into that. You're in Olympus now
and must behave accordingly. Drop your Daphne—assume your
Calliope.
DAPH. Quite so. That's it. [mysteriously]
THES. Oh—that is it? [puzzled]
DAPH. That is it. Thespis. I am Calliope, the muse of fame.
Very good. This morning I was in the Olympian library and I took
down the only book there. Here it is.
THES. [taking it] Lempriere's Classical Dictionary. The Olympian
Peerage.
DAPH. Open it at Apollo.
THES. [opens it] It is done.
DAPH. Read.
THES. "Apollo was several times married, among others to Issa,
Bolina, Coronis, Chymene, Cyrene, Chione, Acacallis, and
Calliope."
DAPH. And Calliope.
THES. [musing] Ha. I didn't know he was married to them.
DAPH. [severely] Sir. This is the family edition.
THES. Quite so.
DAPH. You couldn't expect a lady to read any other?
THES. On no consideration. But in the original version—
DAPH. I go by the family edition.
THES. Then by the family edition, Apollo is your husband.
[Enter Nicemis and Sparkeion]
NICE. Apollo your husband? He is my husband.
DAPH. I beg your pardon. He is my husband.
NICE. Apollo is Sparkeion, and he's married to me.
DAPH. Sparkeion is Apollo, and he's married to me.
NICE. He is my husband.
DAPH. He's your brother.
THES. Look here, Apollo, whose husband are you? Don't let's have
any row about it; whose husband are you?
SPAR. Upon my honor I don't know. I'm in a very delicate
position, but I'll fall in with any arrangement Thespis may
propose.
DAPH. I've just found out that he's my husband and yet he goes
out every evening with that "thing."
THES. Perhaps he's trying an experiment.
DAPH. I don't like my husband to make such experiments. The
question is, who are we all and what is our relation to each
other.
SPAR. You're Diana. I'm Apollo
And Calliope is she.
DAPH. He's your brother.
NICE. You're another. He has fairly married me.
DAPH. By the rules of this fair spot
I'm his wife and you are not.
SPAR & DAPH. By the rules of this fair spot
I'm/she's his wife and you are not.
NICE. By this golden wedding ring,
I'm his wife, and you're a "thing."
DAPH, NICE, SPAR. By this golden wedding ring,
I'm/She's his wife and you're a "thing."
ALL. Please will someone kindly tell us.
Who are our respective kin?
All of us/them are very jealous
Neither of us/them will give in.
NICE. He's my husband, I declare,
I espoused him properlee.
SPAR. That is true, for I was there,
And I saw her marry me.
DAPH. He's your brother—I'm his wife.
If we go by Lempriere.
SPAR. So she is, upon my life.
Really, that seems very fair.
NICE. You're my husband and no other.
SPAR. That is true enough I swear.
DAPH. I'm his wife, and you're his brother.
SPAR. If we go by Lempriere.
NICE. It will surely be unfair,
To decide by Lempriere. [crying]
DAPH. It will surely be quite fair,
To decide by Lempriere.
SPAR & THES How you settle it I don't care,
Leave it all to Lempriere.
[Spoken] The Verdict
As Sparkeion is Apollo,
Up in this Olympian clime,
Why, Nicemis, it will follow,
He's her husband, for the time. [indicating Daphne]
When Sparkeion turns to mortal
Join once more the sons of men.
He may take you to his portal [indicating Nicemis]
He will be your husband then.
That oh that is my decision,
'Cording to my mental vision,
Put an end to all collision,
My decision, my decision.
ALL. That oh that is his decision. etc.
[Exeunt Thes, Nice., Spar and Daphne, Spar. with Daphne, Nicemis
weeping with Thespis. mysterious music. Enter Jupiter, Apollo
and Mars from below, at the back of stage. All wear cloaks, as
disguise and all are masked]
JUP., AP., MARS. Oh rage and fury, Oh shame and sorrow.
We'll be resuming our ranks tomorrow.
Since from Olympus we have departed,
We've been distracted and brokenhearted,
Oh wicked Thespis. Oh villain scurvy.
Through him Olympus is topsy turvy.
Compelled to silence to grin and bear it.
He's caused our sorrow, and he shall share it.
Where is the monster. Avenge his blunders.
He has awakened Olympian thunders.
[Enter Mercury]
JUP. Oh monster.
AP. Oh monster.
MARS. Oh monster.
MER. [in great terror] Please sir, what have I done, sir?
JUP. What did we leave you behind for?
MER. Please sir, that's the question I asked for when you went
away.
JUP. Was it not that Thespis might consult you whenever he was in
a difficulty?
MER. Well, here I've been ready to be consulted, chockful of
reliable information—running over with celestial maxims—advice
gratis ten to four—after twelve ring the night bell in cases of
emergency.
JUP. And hasn't he consulted you?
MER. Not he—he disagrees with me about everything.
JUP. He must have misunderstood me. I told him to consult you
whenever he was in a fix.
MER. He must have though you said in-sult. Why whenever I opened
my mouth he jumps down my throat. It isn't pleasant to have a
fellow constantly jumping down your throat—especially when he
always disagrees with you. It's just the sort of thing I can't
digest.
JUP. [in a rage] Send him here. I'll talk to him.
[enter Thespis. He is much terrified]
JUP. Oh monster.
AP. Oh monster.
MARS. Oh monster.
[Thespis sings in great terror, which he endeavours to conceal]
JUP. Well sir, the year is up today.
AP. And a nice mess you've made of it.
MARS. You've deranged the whole scheme of society.
THES. [aside] There's going to be a row. [aloud and very
familiarly]My dear boy, I do assure you—
JUP. Be respectful.
AP. Be respectful.
MARS. Be respectful.
THES. I don't know what you allude to. With the exception of
getting our scene painter to "run up" this temple, because we
found the ruins draughty, we haven't touched a thing.
JUP. Oh story teller.
AP. Oh story teller.
MARS. Oh story teller.
[Enter thespians]
THES. My dear fellows, you're distressing yourselves
unnecessarily. The court of Olympus is about to assemble to
listen to the complaints of the year, if any. But there are
none, or next to none. Let the Olympians assemble. [Thespis
takes chair. JUP., AP., and MARS sit below him.
Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that it is usual for the gods to
assemble once a year to listen to mortal petitions. It doesn't
seem to me to be a good plan, as work is liable to accumulate;
but as I am particularly anxious not to interfere with Olympian
precedent, but to allow everything to go on as it has always been
accustomed to go—why, we'll say no more about it. [aside] But
how shall I account for your presence?
JUP. Say we are the gentlemen of the press.
THES. That all our proceedings may be perfectly open and above-
board I have communicated with the most influential members of
the Athenian press, and I beg to introduce to your notice three
of its most distinguished members. They bear marks emblematic of
the anonymous character of modern journalism. [Business of
introduction. Thespis is very uneasy] Now then, if you're all
ready we will begin.
MER. [brings tremendous bundle of petitions] Here is the agenda.
THES. What's that? The petitions?
MER. Some of them. [opens one and reads] Ah, I thought there'd be
a row about it.
THES. Why, what's wrong now?
MER. Why, it's been a foggy Friday in November for the last six
months and the Athenians are tired of it.
THES. There's no pleasing some people. This craving for perpetual
change is the curse of the country. Friday's a very nice day.
MER. So it is, but a Friday six months long.—it gets monotonous.
JUP, AP, MARS. [rising] It's perfectly ridiculous.
THES. [calling them] Cymon.
CYM. [as time with the usual attributes] Sir.
THES. [Introducing him to the three gods] Allow me—Father Time—
rather young at present but even time must have a beginning. In
course of time, time will grow older. Now then, Father Time,
what's this about a wet Friday in November for the last six
months.
CYM. Well, the fact is, I've been trying an experiment. Seven
days in the week is an awkward number. It can't be halved. Two;'s
into seven won't go.
THES. [tries it on his fingers] Quite so—quite so.
CYM. So I abolished Saturday.
JUP, AP, MARS. Oh but. [Rising]
THES. Do be quiet. He's a very intelligent young man and knows
what he is about. So you abolished Saturday. And how did you find
it answer?
CYM. Admirably.
THES. You hear? He found it answer admirably.
CYM. Yes, only Sunday refused to take its place.
THES. Sunday refused to take its place?
CYM. Sunday comes after Saturday—Sunday won't go on duty after
Friday. Sunday's principles are very strict. That's where my
experiment sticks.
THES. Well, but why November? Come, why November?
CYM. December can't begin until November has finished. November
can't finish because he's abolished Saturday. There again my
experiment sticks.
THES. Well, but why wet? Come now, why wet?
CYM. Ah, that is your fault. You turned on the rain six months
ago and you forgot to turn it off again.
JUP., AP., MARS. [rising] On this is monstrous.
ALL. Order. Order.
THES. Gentlemen, pray be seated. [to the others] The liberty of
the press, one can't help it. [to the three gods] It is easily
settled. Athens has had a wet Friday in November for the last six
months. Let them have a blazing Tuesday in July for the next
twelve.
JUP., AP., MARS. But—
ALL. Order. Order.
THES. Now then, the next article.
MER. Here's a petition from the Peace Society. They complain
because there are no more battles.
MARS. [springing up] What.
THES. Quiet there. Good dog—soho; Timidon.
TIM. [as Mars] Here.
THES. What's this about there being no battles?
TIM. I've abolished battles; it's an experiment.
MARS. [spring up] Oh come, I say—
THES. Quiet then. [to Tim] Abolished battles?
TIM. Yes, you told us on taking office to remember two things. To
try experiments and to take it easy. I found I couldn't take it
easy while there are any battles to attend to, so I tried the
experiment and abolished battles. And then I took it easy. The
Peace Society ought to be very much obliged to me.
THES. Obliged to you. Why, confound it. Since battles have been
abolished, war is universal.
TIM. War is universal?
THES. To be sure it is. Now that nations can't fight, no two of
'em are on speaking terms. The dread of fighting was the only
thing that kept them civil to each other. Let battles be
restored and peace reign supreme.
MER. Here's a petition from the associated wine merchants of
Mytilene? Are there no grapes this year?
THES. Well, what's wrong with the associated wine merchants of
Mytilene? Are there no grapes this year?
THES. Plenty of grapes. More than usual.
THES. [to the gods] You observe, there is no deception. There are
more than usual.
MER. There are plenty of grapes, only they are full of ginger
beer.
THREE GODS. Oh, come I say [rising they are put down by Thespis.]
THES. Eh? what [much alarmed] Bacchus.
TIPS. [as Bacchus] Here.
THES. There seems to be something unusual with the grapes of
Mytilene. They only grow ginger beer.
TIPS. And a very good thing too.
THES. It's very nice in its way but it is not what one looks for
from grapes.
TIPS. Beloved master, a week before we came up here, you insisted
on my taking the pledge. By so doing you rescued me from my
otherwise inevitable misery. I cannot express my thanks. Embrace
me. [attempts to embrace him.]
THES. Get out, don't be a fool. Look here, you know you're the
god of wine.
TIPS. I am.
THES. [very angry] Well, do you consider it consistent with your
duty as the god of wine to make the grapes yield nothing but
ginger beer?
TIPS. Do you consider it consistent with my duty as a total
abstainer to grow anything stronger than ginger beer?
THES. But your duty as the god of wine—
TIPS. In every respect in which my duty as the god of wine can be
discharged consistently with my duty as a total abstainer, I will
discharge it. But when the functions clash, everything must give
way to the pledge. My preserver. [Attempts to embrace him]
THES. Don't be a confounded fool. This can be arranged. We can't
give over the wine this year, but at least we can improve the
ginger beer. Let all the ginger beer be extracted from it
immediately.
THREE GODS. We can't stand this,
We can't stand this.
It's much too strong.
We can't stand this.
It would be wrong.
Extremely wrong.
If we stood this.
If we stand this
If we stand this
We can't stand this.
DAPH, SPAR, NICE. Great Jove, this interference.
Is more than we can stand;
Of them make a clearance,
With your majestic hand.
JOVE. This cool audacity, it beats us hollow.
I'm Jupiter.
MARS. I'm Mars.
AP. I'm Apollo.
[Enter Diana and all the other gods and goddesses.
ALL. [kneeling with their foreheads on the ground]
Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo
Have quitted the dwellings of men;
The other gods quickly will follow.
And what will become of us then.
Oh pardon us, Jove and Apollo,
Pardon us, Jupiter, Mars:
Oh see us in misery wallow.
Cursing our terrible stars.
[enter other gods.]
ALL THESPIANS: Let us remain, we beg of you pleadingly.
THREE GODS: Let them remain, they beg of us pleadingly.
THES. Life on Olympus suits us exceedingly.
GODS. Life on Olympus suits them exceedingly.
THES. Let us remain, we pray in humility.
GODS. Let 'em remain, they pray in humility.
THES. If we have shown some little ability.
GODS. If they have shown some little ability.
Let us remain, etc...
JUP. Enough, your reign is ended.
Upon this sacred hill.
Let him be apprehended
And learn out awful will.
Away to earth, contemptible comedians,
And hear our curse, before we set you free'
You shall be all be eminent tragedians,
Whom no one ever goes to see.
ALL. We go to earth, contemptible tragedians,
We hear his curse, before he sets us free,
We shall all be eminent tragedians,
Whom no one ever, ever goes to see.
SILL, SPAR, THES. Whom no one
Ever goes to see.
[The thespians are driven away by the gods, who group themselves
in attitudes of triumph.]
THES. Now, here you see the arrant folly
Of doing your best to make things jolly.
I've ruled the world like a chap in his senses,
Observe the terrible consequences.
Great Jupiter, whom nothing pleases,
Splutters and swears, and kicks up breezes,
And sends us home in a mood avengin'
In double quick time, like a railroad engine.
And this he does without compunction,
Because I have discharged with unction
A highly complicated function
Complying with his own injunction,
Fol, lol, lay
CHO. All this he does....etc.
[The gods drive the thespians away. The thespians prepare to
descent the mountain as the curtain falls.
CURTAIN
TRIAL BY JURY
Libretto by W. S. Gilbert
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE LEARNED JUDGE
THE PLAINTIFF
THE DEFENDANT
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF
USHER
FOREMAN OF THE JURY
ASSOCIATE
FIRST BRIDESMAID
First produced at the Royalty Theatre, London, March 25, 1875
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
CHORUS
Hark, the hour of ten is sounding:
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,
Hall of Justice, crowds surrounding,
Breathing hope and fear—
For to-day in this arena,
Summoned by a stern subpoena,
Edwin, sued by Angelina,
Shortly will appear.
Enter Usher
SOLO - USHER
Now, Jurymen, hear my advice—
All kinds of vulgar prejudice
I pray you set aside:
With stern, judicial frame of mind
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
CHORUS
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
[During Chorus, Usher sings fortissimo, "Silence in Court!"]
USHER Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case:
Observe the features of her face—
The broken-hearted bride.
Condole with her distress of mind:
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
CHORUS From bias free, etc.
USHER And when, amid the plaintiff's shrieks,
The ruffianly defendant speaks—
Upon the other side;
What he may say you needn't mind—-
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
CHORUS From bias free, etc.
Enter Defendant
RECIT — DEFENDANT
Is this the court of the Exchequer?
ALL. It is!
DEFENDANT (aside) Be firm, be firm, my pecker,
Your evil star's in the ascendant!
ALL. Who are you?
DEFENDANT. I'm the Defendant.
CHORUS OF JURYMEN (shaking their fists)
Monster, dread our damages.
We're the jury!
Dread our fury!
DEFENDANT Hear me, hear me, if you please,
These are very strange proceedings—
For permit me to remark
On the merits of my pleadings,
You're at present in the dark.
[Defendant beckons to Jurymen—they leave the box and gather around
him as they sing the following:
That's a very true remark—
On the merits of his pleadings
We're at present in the dark!
Ha! ha!—ha! ha!
SONG — DEFENDANT
When first my old, old love I knew,
My bosom welled with joy;
My riches at her feet I threw—
I was a love-sick boy!
No terms seemed too extravagant
Upon her to employ—
I used to mope, and sigh, and pant,
Just like a love-sick boy!
Tink-a-tank! Tink-a-tank!
But joy incessant palls the sense;
And love, unchanged, will cloy,
And she became a bore intense
Unto her love-sick boy!
With fitful glimmer burnt my flame,
And I grew cold and coy,
At last, one morning, I became
Another's love-sick boy.
Tink-a-tank! Tink-a-tank!
CHORUS OF JURYMEN (advancing stealthily)
Oh, I was like that when a lad!
A shocking young scamp of a rover,
I behaved like a regular cad;
But that sort of thing is all over.
I'm now a respectable chap
And shine with a virtue resplendent
And, therefore, I haven't a scrap
Of sympathy with the defendant!
He shall treat us with awe,
If there isn't a flaw,
Singing so merrily—Trial-la-law!
Trial-la-law! Trial-la-law!
Singing so merrily—Trial-la-law!
[They enter the Jury-box.
RECIT—USHER (on Bench)
Silence in Court, and all attention lend.
Behold your Judge! In due submission bend!
Enter Judge on Bench
CHORUS
All hail, great Judge!
To your bright rays
We never grudge
Ecstatic praise.
All hail!
May each decree
As statute rank
And never be
Reversed in banc.
All hail!
RECIT—JUDGE
For these kind words, accept my thanks, I pray.
A Breach of Promise we've to try to-day.
But firstly, if the time you'll not begrudge,
I'll tell you how I came to be a Judge.
ALL. He'll tell us how he came to be a Judge!
JUDGE. I'll tell you how...
ALL. He'll tell us how...
JUDGE. I'll tell you how...
ALL. He'll tell us how...
JUDGE Let me speak...!
ALL. Let him speak!
JUDGE. Let me speak!
ALL. (in a whisper). Let him speak!
He'll tell us how he came to be a Judge!
USHER. Silence in Court! Silence in Court!
SONG—JUDGE
When I, good friends, was called to the bar,
I'd an appetite fresh and hearty.
But I was, as many young barristers are,
An impecunious party.
I'd a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue—
And a brief which I bought of a booby—
A couple of shirts, and a collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!
CHORUS. A couple of shirts, etc.
JUDGE. At Westminster Hall I danced a dance,
Like a semi-despondent fury;
For I thought I never should hit on a chance
Of addressing a British Jury—
But I soon got tired of third-class journeys,
And dinners of bread and water;
So I fell in love with a rich attorney's
Elderly, ugly daughter.
CHORUS. So he fell in love, etc.
JUDGE. The rich attorney, he jumped with joy,
And replied to my fond professions:
"You shall reap the reward of your pluck, my boy,
At the Bailey and Middlesex sessions.
You'll soon get used to her looks," said he,
"And a very nice girl you will find her!
She may very well pass for forty-three
In the dusk, with a light behind her!"
CHORUS. She may very well, etc.
JUDGE. The rich attorney was good as his word;
The briefs came trooping gaily,
And every day my voice was heard
At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey.
All thieves who could my fees afford
Relied on my orations.
And many a burglar I've restored
To his friends and his relations.
CHORUS. And many a burglar, etc.
JUDGE. At length I became as rich as the Gurneys—
An incubus then I thought her,
So I threw over that rich attorney's
Elderly, ugly daughter.
The rich attorney my character high
Tried vainly to disparage—-
And now, if you please, I'm ready to try
This Breach of Promise of Marriage!
CHORUS. And now if you please, etc.
JUDGE. For now I'm a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. For now I'm a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Though all my law be fudge,
Yet I'll never, never budge,
But I'll live and die a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE (pianissimo). It was managed by a job—
ALL. And a good job, too!
JUDGE. It was managed by a job!
ALL. And a good job too!
JUDGE. It is patent to the mob,
That my being made a nob
Was effected by a job.
ALL. And a good job too!
[Enter Counsel for Plaintiff. He takes his place in front row of
Counsel's seats
RECIT — COUNSEL
Swear thou the jury!
USHER. Kneel, Jurymen, oh, kneel!
[All the Jury kneel in the Jury-box, and so are hidden from
audience.
USHER. Oh, will you swear by yonder skies,
Whatever question may arise,
'Twixt rich and poor, 'twixt low and high,
That you will well and truly try?
JURY (raising their hands, which alone are visible)
To all of this we make reply
By the dull slate of yonder sky:
That we will well and truly try.
We'll try.
(All rise with the last note)
RECIT — COUNSEL
Where is the Plaintiff?
Let her now be brought.
RECIT — USHER
Oh, Angelina! Come thou into Court!
Angelina! Angelina!
Enter the Bridesmaids
CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS
Comes the broken flower—
Comes the cheated maid—
Though the tempest lower,
Rain and cloud will fade
Take, oh maid, these posies:
Though thy beauty rare
Shame the blushing roses,
They are passing fair!
Wear the flowers 'til they fade;
Happy be thy life, oh maid!
[The Judge, having taken a great fancy to First Bridesmaid, sends
her a note by Usher, which she reads, kisses rapturously,
and places in her bosom.
Enter Plaintiff
SOLO — PLAINTIFF
O'er the season vernal,
Time may cast a shade;
Sunshine, if eternal,
Makes the roses fade!
Time may do his duty;
Let the thief alone—
Winter hath a beauty.
That is all his own.
Fairest days are sun and shade:
I am no unhappy maid!
[The Judge having by this time transferred his admiration to
Plaintiff, directs the Usher to take the note from First
Bridesmaid and hand it to Plaintiff, who reads it,
kisses it rapturously, and places it in her bosom.
CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS
Comes the broken flower, etc.
JUDGE. Oh, never, never, never,
Since I joined the human race,
Saw I so excellently fair a face.
THE JURY (shaking their forefingers at him). Ah, sly dog!
Ah, sly dog!
JUDGE (to Jury). How say you?
Is she not designed for capture?
FOREMAN (after consulting with the Jury). We've but one word,
m'lud, and that is—Rapture!
PLAINTIFF (curtseying). Your kindness, gentlemen, quite
overpowers!
JURY. We love you fondly, and would make you ours!
BRIDESMAIDS (shaking their forefingers at Jury).
Ah, sly dogs! Ah, sly dogs!
RECIT — COUNSEL for PLAINTIFF
May it please you, m'lud!
Gentlemen of the jury!
ARIA — COUNSEL
With a sense of deep emotion,
I approach this painful case;
For I never had a notion
That a man could be so base,
Or deceive a girl confiding,
Vows, etcetera deriding.
ALL. He deceived a girl confiding,
Vows, etcetera, deriding.
[Plaintiff falls sobbing on Counsel's breast and remains there.
COUNSEL. See my interesting client,
Victim of a heartless wile!
See the traitor all defiant
Wear a supercilious smile!
Sweetly smiled my client on him,
Coyly woo'd and gently won him.
ALL. Sweetly smiled, etc.
COUNSEL. Swiftly fled each honeyed hour
Spent with this unmanly male!
Sommerville became a bow'r,
Alston an Arcadian Vale,
Breathing concentrated otto!—
An existence la Watteau.
ALL. Bless, us, concentrated otto! etc.
COUNSEL. Picture, then, my client naming,
And insisting on the day:
Picture him excuses framing—
Going from her far away;
Doubly criminal to do so,
For the maid had bought her trousseau!
ALL. Doubly criminal, etc.
COUNSEL (to Plaintiff, who weeps)
Cheer up, my pretty—oh, cheer up!
JURY. Cheer up, cheer up, we love you!
[Counsel leads Plaintiff fondly into Witness-box; he takes a tender
leave of her, and resumes his place in Court.
(Plaintiff reels as if about to faint)
JUDGE. That she is reeling
Is plain to see!
FOREMAN. If faint you're feeling
Recline on me!
[She falls sobbing on to the Foreman's breast.
PLAINTIFF (feebly). I shall recover
If left alone.
ALL. (shaking their fists at Defendant)
Oh, perjured lover,
Atone! atone!
FOREMAN. Just like a father [Kissing her
I wish to be.
JUDGE. (approaching her)
Or, if you'd rather,
Recline on me!
[She jumps on to Bench, sits down by the Judge, and falls sobbing
on his breast.
COUNSEL. Oh! fetch some water
From far Cologne!
ALL. For this sad slaughter
Atone! atone!
JURY. (shaking fists at Defendant)
Monster, monster, dread our fury—
There's the Judge, and we're the Jury!
Come! Substantial damages,
Dam—-
USHER. Silence in Court!
SONG — DEFENDANT
Oh, gentlemen, listen, I pray,
Though I own that my heart has been ranging,
Of nature the laws I obey,
For nature is constantly changing.
The moon in her phases is found,
The time, and the wind, and the weather.
The months in succession come round,
And you don't find two Mondays together.
Consider the moral, I pray,
Nor bring a young fellow to sorrow,
Who loves this young lady to-day,
And loves that young lady to-morrow.
BRIDESMAIDS (rushing forward, and kneeling to Jury).
Consider the moral, etc.
One cannot eat breakfast all day,
Nor is it the act of a sinner,
When breakfast is taken away,
To turn his attention to dinner.
And it's not in the range of belief,
To look upon him as a glutton,
Who, when he is tired of beef,
Determines to tackle the mutton.
But this I am willing to say,
If it will appease her sorrow,
I'll marry this lady to-day,
And I'll marry the other to-morrow.
BRIDESMAIDS (rushing forward as before)
But this he is willing say, etc.
RECIT — JUDGE
That seems a reasonable proposition,
To which, I think, your client may agree.
COUNSEL
But I submit, m'lud, with all submission,
To marry two at once is Burglaree!
[Referring to law book.
In the reign of James the Second,
It was generally reckoned
As a rather serious crime
To marry two wives at a time.
[Hands book up to Judge, who reads it.
ALL. Oh, man of learning!
QUARTETTE
JUDGE. A nice dilemma we have here,
That calls for all our wit:
COUNSEL. And at this stage, it don't appear
That we can settle it.
DEFENDANT (in Witness-box).
If I to wed the girl am loth
A breach 'twill surely be—
PLAINTIFF. And if he goes and marries both,
It counts as Burglaree!
ALL. A nice dilemma we have here,
That calls for all our wit.
DUET — PLAINTIFF and DEFENDANT
PLAINTIFF (embracing him rapturously)
I love him—I love him—with fervour unceasing
I worship and madly adore;
My blind adoration is ever increasing,
My loss I shall ever deplore.
Oh, see what a blessing, what love and caressing
I've lost, and remember it, pray,
When you I'm addressing, are busy assessing
The damages Edwin must pay—-
Yes, he must pay!
DEFENDANT (repelling her furiously)
I smoke like a furnace—I'm always in liquor,
A ruffian—a bully—a sot;
I'm sure I should thrash her, perhaps I should kick her,
I am such a very bad lot!
I'm not prepossessing, as you may be guessing,
She couldn't endure me a day!
Recall my professing, when you are assessing
The damages Edwin must pay!
PLAINTIFF. Yes, he must pay!
[She clings to him passionately; after a struggle, he throws her
off into arms of Counsel.
JURY. We would be fairly acting,
But this is most distracting!
If, when in liquor he would kick her,
That is an abatement.
RECIT — JUDGE
The question, gentlemen—is one of liquor.
You ask for guidance—this is my reply:
He says, when tipsy, he would thrash and kick her.
Let's make him tipsy, gentlemen, and try!
COUNSEL. With all respect,
I do object!
PLAINTIFF. I do object!
DEFENDANT. I don't object!
ALL. With all respect
We do object!
JUDGE (tossing his books and paper about)
All the legal furies seize you!
No proposal seems to please you,
I can't sit up here all day,
I must shortly get away.
Barristers, and you, attorneys,
Set out on your homeward journeys;
Gentle, simple-minded Usher,
Get you, if you like, to Russher;
Put your briefs upon the shelf,
I will marry her myself!
[He comes down from Bench to floor of Court. He embraces
Angelina.
FINALE
PLAINTIFF. Oh, joy unbounded,
With wealth surrounded,
The knell is sounded
Of grief and woe.
COUNSEL. With love devoted
On you he's doated,
To castle moated
Away they go.
DEFENDANT. I wonder whether
They'll live together,
In marriage tether
In manner true?
USHER. It seems to me, sir,
Of such as she, sir,
A Judge is he, sir,
And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Yes, I am a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Yes, I am a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Though homeward as you trudge,
You declare my law is fudge.
Yet of beauty I'm a judge.
ALL. And a good Judge too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
ALL. And a great snob, too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
ALL. And a great snob, too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
I'll reward him from his fob.
So we've settled with the job,
ALL. And a good job, too!
Dance
CURTAIN
UTOPIA LIMITED
OR
THE FLOWERS OF PROGRESS
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan
Libretto by William S. Gilbert
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
King Paramount, the First (King of Utopia)
Scaphio and Phantis (Judges of the Utopian Supreme Court)
Tarara (The Public Exploder)
Calynx (The Utopian Vice-Chamberlain)
Imported Flowers of Progress:
Lord Dramaleigh (a British Lord Chamberlain)
Captain Fitzbattleaxe (First Life Guards)
Captain Sir Edward Corcoran, K.C.B. (of the Royal Navy)
Mr. Goldbury (a company promoter; afterwards Comptroller of the
Utopian
Household)
Sir Bailey Barre, Q.C., M.P.
Mr. Blushington (of the County Council)
The Princess Zara (eldest daughter of King Paramount)
The Princesses Nekaya and Kalyba (her Younger Sisters)
The Lady Sophy (their English Gouvernante)
Utopian Maidens:
Salata
Melene
Phylla
ACT I
A Utopian Palm Grove
ACT II
Throne Room in King Paramount's Palace
First produced at the Savoy Theatre on October 7, 1893.
ACT I.
OPENING CHORUS.
In lazy languor—motionless,
We lie and dream of nothingness;
For visions come
From Poppydom
Direct at our command:
Or, delicate alternative,
In open idleness we live,
With lyre and lute
And silver flute,
The life of Lazyland.
SOLO - Phylla.
The song of birds
In ivied towers;
The rippling play
Of waterway;
The lowing herds;
The breath of flowers;
The languid loves
Of turtle doves—
These simple 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 preeminent position among civilized nations!
Salata: Then in a few months Utopia may hope to be completely
Anglicized?
Calynx: Absolutely and without a doubt.
Melene: (lazily) We are very well as we are. Life without a
care—every want supplied by a kind and fatherly monarch,
who, despot though he be, has no other thought than to make his
people happy—what have we to gain by the great change that
is in store for us?
Salata: What have we to gain? English institutions, English
tastes, and oh, English fashions!
Calynx: England has made herself what she is because, in that
favored land, every one has to think for himself. Here we have
no need to think, because our monarch anticipates all our wants,
and our political opinions are formed for us by the journals to
which we subscribe. Oh, think how much more brilliant this
dialogue would have been, if we had been accustomed to exercise
our reflective powers! They say that in England the conversation
of the very meanest is a coruscation of impromptu epigram!
(Enter Tarara in a great rage)
Tarara: Lalabalele talala! Callabale lalabalica falahle!
Calynx: (horrified) Stop—stop, I beg! (All the ladies
close their ears.)
Tarara: Callamalala galalate! Caritalla lalabalee kallalale
poo!
Ladies: Oh, stop him! stop him!
Calynx: My lord, I'm surprised at you. Are you not aware that
His Majesty, in his despotic acquiescence with the emphatic wish
of his people, has ordered that the Utopian language shall be
banished from his court, and that all communications shall
henceforward be made in the English tongue?
Tarara: Yes, I'm perfectly aware of it, although—(suddenly
presenting an explosive "cracker"). Stop—allow me.
Calynx: (pulls it). Now, what's that for?
Tarara: Why, I've recently been appointed Public Exploder to His
Majesty, and as I'm constitutionally nervous, I must accustom
myself by degrees to the startling nature of my duties. Thank you.
I was about to say that although, as Public Exploder, I am next in
succession to the throne, I nevertheless do my best to fall in
with the royal decree. But when I am overmastered by an indignant
sense of overwhelming wrong, as I am now, I slip into my native
tongue without knowing it. I am told that in the language of that
great and pure nation, strong expressions do not exist, consequently
when I want to let off steam I have no alternative but to
say, "Lalabalele molola lililah kallalale poo!"
Calynx: But what is your grievance?
Tarara: This—by our Constitution we are governed by a
Despot who, although in theory absolute—is, in practice,
nothing of the kind—being watched day and night by two Wise
Men whose duty it is, on his very first lapse from political or
social propriety, to denounce him to me, the Public Exploder, and
it then becomes my duty to blow up His Majesty with
dynamite—allow me. (Presenting a cracker which Calynx
pulls.) Thank you—and, as some compensation to my wounded
feelings, I reign in his stead.
Calynx: Yes. After many unhappy experiments in the direction of
an ideal Republic, it was found that what may be described as a
Despotism tempered by Dynamite provides, on the whole, the most
satisfactory description of ruler—an autocrat who dares not
abuse his autocratic power.
Tarara: That's the theory—but in practice, how does it
act? Now, do you ever happen to see the Palace Peeper? (producing
a "Society" paper).
Calynx: Never even heard of the journal.
Tarara: I'm not surprised, because His Majesty's agents always
buy up the whole edition; but I have an aunt in the publishing
department, and she has supplied me with a copy. Well, it
actually teems with circumstantially convincing details of the
King's abominable immoralities! If this high-class journal may be
believed, His Majesty is one of the most Heliogabalian profligates
that ever disgraced an autocratic throne! And do these Wise Men
denounce him to me? Not a bit of it! They wink at his
immoralities! Under the circumstances I really think I am
justified in exclaiming "Lalabelele molola lililah kalabalale
poo!" (All horrified.) I don't care—the occasion demands
it.
(Exit Tarara)
(March. Enter Guard, escorting Scaphio and Phantis.)
CHORUS.
O make way for the Wise Men!
They are the prizemen—
Double-first in the world's university!
For though lovely this island
(Which is my land),
She has no one to match them in her city.
They're the pride of Utopia—
Cornucopia
Is each his mental fertility.
O they make no blunder,
And no wonder,
For they're triumphs of infallibility.
DUET — Scaphio and Phantis.
In every mental lore
(The statement smacks of vanity)
We claim to rank before
The wisest of humanity.
As gifts of head and heart
We wasted on "utility,"
We're "cast" to play a part
Of great responsibility.
Our duty is to spy
Upon our King's illicites,
And keep a watchful eye
On all his eccentricities.
If ever a trick he tries
That savours of rascality,
At our decree he dies
Without the least formality.
We fear no rude rebuff,
Or newspaper publicity;
Our word is quite enough,
The rest is electricity.
A pound of dynamite
Explodes in his auriculars;
It's not a pleasant sight—
We'll spare you the particulars.
Its force all men confess,
The King needs no admonishing—
We may say its success
Is something quite astonishing.
Our despot it imbues
With virtues quite delectable,
He minds his P's and Q's,—
And keeps himself respectable.
Of a tyrant polite
He's paragon quite.
He's as modest and mild
In his ways as a child;
And no one ever met
With an autocrat yet,
So delightfully bland
To the least in the land!
So make way for the wise men, etc.
(Exeunt all but Scaphio and Phantis. Phantis is pensive.)
Scaphio: Phantis, you are not in your customary exuberant
spirits. What is wrong?
Phantis: Scaphio, I think you once told me that you have never
loved?
Scaphio: Never! I have often marvelled at the fairy influence
which weaves its rosy web about the faculties of the greatest and
wisest of our race; but I thank Heaven I have never been subjected
to its singular fascination. For, oh, Phantis! there is that
within me that tells me that when my time does come, the
convulsion will be tremendous! When I love, it will be with the
accumulated fervor of sixty-six years! But I have an ideal—a
semi-transparent Being, filled with an inorganic pink
jelly—and I have never yet seen the woman who approaches
within measurable distance of it. All are
opaque—opaque—opaque!
Phantis: Keep that ideal firmly before you, and love not until
you find her. Though but fifty-five, I am an old campaigner in
the battle-fields of Love; and, believe me, it is better to be as
you are, heart-free and happy, than as I am—eternally racked
with doubting agonies! Scaphio, the Princess Zara returns from
England today!
Scaphio: My poor boy, I see it all.
Phantis: Oh! Scaphio, she is so beautiful. Ah! you smile, for
you have never seen her. She sailed for England three months
before you took office.
Scaphio: Now tell me, is your affection requited?
Phantis: I do not know—I am not sure. Sometimes I think it
is, and then come these torturing doubts! I feel sure that she
does not regard me with absolute indifference, for she could never
look at me without having to go to bed with a sick headache.
Scaphio: That is surely something. Come, take heart, boy! you
are young and beautiful. What more could maiden want?
Phantis: Ah! Scaphio, remember she returns from a land where
every youth is as a young Greek god, and where such beauty as I
can boast is seen at every turn.
Scaphio: Be of good cheer! Marry her, boy, if so your fancy
wills, and be sure that love will come.
Phantis: (overjoyed) Then you will assist me in this?
Scaphio: Why, surely! Silly one, what have you to fear? We have
but to say the word, and her father must consent. Is he not our
very slave? Come, take heart. I cannot bear to see you sad.
Phantis: Now I may hope, indeed! Scaphio, you have placed me on
the very pinnacle of human joy!
DUET — Scaphio and Phantis.
Scaphio: Let all your doubts take wing—
Our influence is great.
If Paramount our King
Presume to hesitate
Put on the screw,
And caution him
That he will rue
Disaster grim
That must ensue
To life and limb,
Should he pooh-pooh
This harmless whim.
Both: This harmless whim—this harmless whim,
It is as I/you say, a harmless whim.
Phantis: (dancing) Observe this dance
Which I employ
When I, by chance
Go mad with joy.
What sentiment
Does this express?
(Phantis continues his dance while Scaphio vainly endeavors to
discover
its meaning)
Supreme content
And happiness!
Both: Of course it does! Of course it does!
Supreme content and happiness.
Phantis: Your friendly aid conferred,
I need no longer pine.
I've but to speak the word,
And lo, the maid is mine!
I do not choose
To be denied.
Or wish to lose
A lovely bride—
If to refuse
The King decide,
The royal shoes
Then woe betide!
Both: Then woe betide—then woe betide!
The Royal shoes then woe betide!
Scaphio: (Dancing) This step to use
I condescend
Whene'er I choose
To serve a friend.
What it implies
Now try to guess;
(Scaphio continues his dance while Phantis is vainly endeavouring
to discover its meaning)
It typifies
Unselfishness!
Both: (Dancing) Of course it does! Of course it does!
It typifies unselfishness.
(Exeunt Scaphio and
Phantis.)
March. Enter King Paramount, attended by guards and nobles, and
preceded by girls dancing before him.
CHORUS
Quaff the nectar—cull the roses—
Gather fruit and flowers in plenty!
For our king no longer poses—
Sing the songs of far niente!
Wake the lute that sets us lilting,
Dance a welcome to each comer;
Day by day our year is wilting—
Sing the sunny songs of summer!
La, la, la, la!
SOLO — King.
A King of autocratic power we—
A despot whose tyrannic will is law—
Whose rule is paramount o'er land and sea,
A presence of unutterable awe!
But though the awe that I inspire
Must shrivel with imperial fire
All foes whom it may chance to touch,
To judge by what I see and hear,
It does not seem to interfere
With popular enjoyment, much.
Chorus: No, no—it does not interfere
With our enjoyment much.
Stupendous when we rouse ourselves to strike,
Resistless when our tyrant thunder peals,
We often wonder what obstruction's like,
And how a contradicted monarch feels.
But as it is our Royal whim
Our Royal sails to set and trim
To suit whatever wind may blow—
What buffets contradiction deals
And how a thwarted monarch feels
We probably will never know.
Chorus: No, no—what thwarted monarch feels,
You'll never, never know.
RECITATIVE — King.
My subjects all, it is your wish 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 praise
Our modest ways
And guileless character—
Kal: Our well-known blush—our downcast eyes—
Our famous look of mild surprise.
Nek: (Which competition still defies)—
Our celebrated "Sir!!!"
Kal: Then all the crowd take down our looks
In pocket memorandum books.
To diagnose
Our modest pose
The Kodaks do their best:
Nek: If evidence you would possess
Of what is maiden bashfulness
You need only a button press—
Kal: And we will do the rest.
Enter Lady Sophy — an English lady of mature years and
extreme gravity of demeanour and dress. She carries a lecturer's
wand in her hand. She is led on by the King, who expresses great
regard and admiration for her.
RECITATIVE — Lady Sophy
This morning we propose to illustrate
A course of maiden courtship, from the start
To the triumphant matrimonial finish.
(Through the following song the two Princesses illustrate in
gesture the description given by Lady Sophy.)
SONG — Lady Sophy
Bold-faced ranger
(Perfect stranger)
Meets two well-behaved young ladies.
He's attractive,
Young and active—
Each a little bit afraid is.
Youth advances,
At his glances
To their danger they awaken;
They repel him
As they tell him
He is very much mistaken.
Though they speak to him politely,
Please observe they're sneering slightly,
Just to show he's acting vainly.
This is Virtue saying plainly
"Go away, young bachelor,
We are not what you take us for!"
When addressed impertinently,
English ladies answer gently,
"Go away, young bachelor,
We are not what you take us for!"
As he gazes,
Hat he raises,
Enters into conversation.
Makes excuses—
This produces
Interesting agitation.
He, with daring,
Undespairing,
Give his card—his rank discloses
Little heeding
This proceeding,
They turn up their little noses.
Pray observe this lesson vital—
When a man of rank and title
His position first discloses,
Always cock your little noses.
When at home, let all the class
Try this in the looking glass.
English girls of well bred notions,
Shun all unrehearsed emotions.
English girls of highest class
Practice them before the glass.
His intentions
Then he mentions.
Something definite to go on—
Makes recitals
Of his titles,
Hints at settlements, and so on.
Smiling sweetly,
They, discreetly,
Ask for further evidences:
Thus invited,
He, delighted,
Gives the usual references:
This is business. Each is fluttered
When the offer's fairly uttered.
"Which of them has his affection?"
He declines to make selection.
Do they quarrel for his dross?
Not a bit of it—they toss!
Please observe this cogent moral—
English ladies never quarrel.
When a doubt they come across,
English ladies always toss.
RECITATIVE — Lady Sophy
The lecture's ended. In ten minute's space
'Twill be repeated in the market-place!
(Exit Lady Sophy, followed by Nekaya and
Kalyba.)
Chorus: Quaff the nectar—cull the roses—
Bashful girls will soon be plenty!
Maid who thus at fifteen poses
Ought to be divine at twenty!
(Exeunt all but KING.)
King: I requested Scaphio and Phantis to be so good as to
favor me with an audience this morning. (Enter SCAPHIO and
PHANTIS.) Oh, here they are!
Scaphio: Your Majesty wished to speak with us, I believe.
You—you needn't keep your crown on, on our account, you
know.
King: I beg your pardon. (Removes it.) I always forget that!
Odd, the notion of a King not being allowed to wear one of his own
crowns in the presence of two of his own subjects.
Phantis: Yes—bizarre, is it not?
King: Most quaint. But then it's a quaint world.
Phantis: Teems with quiet fun. I often think what a lucky thing
it is that you are blessed with such a keen sense of humor!
King: Do you know, I find it invaluable. Do what I will, I
cannot help looking at the humorous side of things—for,
properly considered, everything has its humorous side—even
the Palace Peeper (producing it). See here—"Another Royal
Scandal," by Junius Junior. "How long is this to last?" by Senex
Senior. "Ribald Royalty," by Mercury Major. "Where is the Public
Exploder?" by Mephistopheles Minor. When I reflect that all these
outrageous attacks on my morality are written by me, at your
command—well, it's one of the funniest things that have
come within the scope of my experience.
Scaphio: Besides, apart from that, they have a quiet humor of
their own which is simply irresistible.
King: (gratified) Not bad, I think. Biting, trenchant
sarcasm—the rapier, not the bludgeon—that's my line.
But then it's so easy—I'm such a good subject—a bad
King but a good Subject—ha! ha!—a capital heading for
next week's leading article! (makes a note) And then the
stinging little paragraphs about our Royal goings-on with our
Royal Second Housemaid—delicately sub-acid, are they not?
Scaphio: My dear King, in that kind of thing no one can hold a
candle to you.
Phantis: But the crowning joke is the Comic Opera you've written
for us—"King Tuppence, or A Good Deal Less than Half a
Sovereign"—in which the celebrated English tenor, Mr.
Wilkinson, burlesques your personal appearance and gives grotesque
imitations of your Royal peculiarities. It's immense!
King: Ye—es—That's what I wanted to speak to you
about. Now I've not the least doubt but that even that has its
humorous side too—if one could only see it. As a rule I'm
pretty quick at detecting latent humor—but I confess I do
not quite see where it comes in, in this particular instance. It's
so horribly personal!
Scaphio: Personal? Yes, of course it's personal—but
consider the antithetical humor of the situation.
King: Yes. I—I don't think I've quite grasped that.
Scaphio: No? You surprise me. Why, consider. During the day
thousands tremble at your frown, during the night (from 8 to 11)
thousands roar at it. During the day your most arbitrary
pronouncements are received by your subjects with abject
submission—during the night, they shout with joy at your
most terrible decrees. It's not every monarch who enjoys the
privilege of undoing by night all the despotic absurdities he's
committed during the day.
King: Of course! Now I see it! Thank you very much. I was
sure it had its humorous side, and it was very dull of me not to
have seen it before. But, as I said just now, it's a quaint
world.
Phantis: Teems with quiet fun.
King: Yes. Properly considered, what a farce life is, to be
sure!
SONG — King.
First you're born—and I'll be bound you
Find a dozen strangers round you.
"Hallo," cries the new-born baby,
"Where's my parents? which may they be?"
Awkward silence—no reply—
Puzzled baby wonders why!
Father rises, bows politely—
Mother smiles (but not too brightly)—
Doctor mumbles like a dumb thing—
Nurse is busy mixing something.—
Every symptom tends to show
You're decidedly de trop—
All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Time's teetotum,
If you spin it,
Gives it quotum
Once a minute.
I'll go bail
You hit the nail,
And if you fail,
The deuce is in it!
King: You grow up and you discover
What it is to be a lover.
Some young lady is selected—
Poor, perhaps, but well-connected.
Whom you hail (for Love is blind)
As the Queen of fairy kind.
Though she's plain—perhaps unsightly,
Makes her face up—laces tightly,
In her form your fancy traces
All the gifts of all the graces.
Rivals none the maiden woo,
So you take her and she takes you.
All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Joke beginning,
Never ceases
Till your inning
Time releases,
On your way
You blindly stray,
And day by day
The joke increases!
King: Ten years later—Time progresses—
Sours your temper—thins your tresses;
Fancy, then, her chain relaxes;
Rates are facts and so are taxes.
Fairy Queen's no longer young—
Fairy Queen has got a tongue.
Twins have probably intruded—
Quite unbidden—just as you did—
They're a source of care and trouble—
Just as you were—only double.
Comes at last the final stroke—
Time has had its little joke!
All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Daily driven
(Wife as drover)
Ill you've thriven—
Ne'er in clover;
Lastly, when
Three-score and ten
(And not till then),
The joke is over!
Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Then—and then
The joke is over!
(Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis.)
King: (putting on his crown again) It's all very well. I
always like to look on the humorous side of things; but I do not
think I ought to be required to write libels on my own moral
character. Naturally, I see the joke of it—anybody
would—but Zara's coming home today; she's no longer a child,
and I confess I should not like her to see my Opera—though
it's uncommonly well written; and I should be sorry if the Palace
Peeper got into her hands—though it's certainly
smart—very smart indeed. It is almost a pity that I have to
buy up the whole edition, because it's really too good to be lost.
And Lady Sophy—that blameless type of perfect womanhood!
Great Heavens, what would she say if the Second Housemaid business
happened to meet her pure blue eye! (Enter Lady Sophy)
Lady S.: My monarch is soliloquizing. I will withdraw. (going)
King: No—pray don't go. Now I'll give you fifty
chances, and you won't guess whom I was thinking of.
Lady S.: Alas, sir, I know too well. Ah! King, it's an old, old
story, and I'm wellnigh weary of it! Be warned in time—from
my heart I pity you, but I am not for you! (going)
King: But hear what I have to say.
Lady S.: It is useless. Listen. In the course of a long and
adventurous career in the principal European Courts, it has been
revealed to me that I unconsciously exercise a weird and
supernatural fascination over all Crowned Heads. So irresistible
is this singular property, that there is not a European Monarch
who has not implored me, with tears in his eyes, to quit his
kingdom, and take my fatal charms elsewhere. As time was getting
on it occurred to me that by descending several pegs in the scale
of Respectability I might qualify your Majesty for my hand.
Actuated by this humane motive and happening to possess
Respectability enough for Six, I consented to confer
Respectability enough for Four upon your two younger
daughters—but although I have, alas, only Respectability
enough for Two left, there is still, as I gather from the public
press of this country (producing the Palace Peeper), a
considerable balance in my favor.
King: (aside) Damn! (aloud) May I ask how you came by this?
Lady S.: It was handed to me by the officer who holds the
position of Public Exploder to your Imperial Majesty.
King: And surely, Lady Sophy, surely you are not so unjust as
to place any faith in the irresponsible gabble of the Society
press!
Lady S.: (referring to paper) I read on the authority of Senex
Senior that your Majesty was seen dancing with your Second
Housemaid on the Oriental Platform of the Tivoli Gardens. That is
untrue?
King: Absolutely. Our Second Housemaid has only one leg.
Lady S.: (suspiciously) How do you know that?
King: Common report. I give you my honor.
Lady S.: It may be so. I further read—and the statement is
vouched for by no less an authority that Mephistopheles
Minor—that your Majesty indulges in a bath of hot rum-punch
every morning. I trust I do not lay myself open to the charge of
displaying an indelicate curiosity as to the mysteries of the
royal dressing-room when I ask if there is any foundation for
this statement?
King: None whatever. When our medical adviser exhibits rum-
punch it is as a draught, not as a fomentation. As to our bath,
our valet plays the garden hose upon us every morning.
Lady S.: (shocked) Oh, pray—pray spare me these unseemly
details. Well, you are a Despot—have you taken steps to slay
this scribbler?
King: Well, no—I have not gone so far as that. After
all, it's the poor devil's living, you know.
Lady S.: It is the poor devil's living that surprises me. If
this man lies, there is no recognized punishment that is sufficiently
terrible for him.
King: That's precisely it. I—I am waiting until a
punishment is discovered that will exactly meet the enormity of
the case. I am in constant communication with the Mikado of Japan,
who is a leading authority on such points; and, moreover, I have
the ground plans and sectional elevations of several capital
punishments in my desk at this moment. Oh, Lady Sophy, as you are
powerful, be merciful!
DUET — King and Lady Sophy.
King: Subjected to your heavenly gaze
(Poetical phrase),
My brain is turned completely.
Observe me now
No monarch I vow,
Was ever so afflicted!
Lady S: I'm pleased with that poetical phrase,
"A heavenly gaze,"
But though you put it neatly,
Say what you will,
These paragraphs still
Remain uncontradicted.
Come, crush me this contemptible worm
(A forcible term),
If he's assailed you wrongly.
The rage display,
Which, as you say,
Has moved your Majesty lately.
King: Though I admit that forcible term
"Contemptible worm,"
Appeals to me most strongly,
To treat this pest
As you suggest
Would pain my Majesty greatly.