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.
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.
Lady S: This writer lies! King: Yes, bother his eyes! Lady S: He lives, you say? King: In a sort of way. Lady S: Then have him shot. King: Decidedly not. Lady S: Or crush him flat. King: I cannot do that. Both: O royal Rex, My her blameless sex Abhors such conduct shady. You I plead in vain, You will never gain Respectable English lady!
(Dance of repudiation by Lady Sophy. Exit followed by King.)
March. Enter all the Court, heralding the arrival of the Princess Zara, who enters, escorted by Captain Fitzbattleaxe and four Troopers, all in the full uniform of the First Life Guards.
CHORUS.
Oh, maiden, rich In Girton lore That wisdom which, We prized before, We do confess Is nothingness, And rather less, Perhaps, than more. On each of us Thy learning shed. On calculus May we be fed. And teach us, please, To speak with ease, All languages, Alive and dead!
SOLO—Princess and Chorus
Zara: Five years have flown since I took wing— Time flies, and his footstep ne'er retards— I'm the eldest daughter of your King.
Troop: And we are her escort—First Life Guards! On the royal yacht, When the waves were white, In a helmet hot And a tunic tight, And our great big boots, We defied the storm; For we're not recruits, And his uniform A well drilled trooper ne'er discards— And we are her escort—First Life Guards!
Zara: These gentlemen I present to you, The pride and boast of their barrack-yards; They've taken, O! such care of me!
Troop: For we are her escort—First Life Guards! When the tempest rose, And the ship went so— Do you suppose We were ill? No, no! Though a qualmish lot In a tunic tight, And a helmet hot, And a breastplate bright (Which a well-drilled trooper ne'er discards), We stood as her escort—First Life Guards!
CHORUS
Knightsbridge nursemaids—serving fairies— Stars of proud Belgravian airies; At stern duty's call you leave them, Though you know how that must grieve them!
Zara: Tantantarara-rara-rara!
Fitz: Trumpet-call of Princess Zara!
Cho: That's trump-call, and they're all trump cards— They are her escort—First Life Guards!
ENSEMBLE
Chorus Princess Zara and Fitzbattleaxe
Ladies Oh! the hours are gold, And the joys untold, Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. When my eyes behold My beloved Princess; Men And the years will seem When the tempest rose, etc. But a brief day-dream, In the joy extreme Of our happiness!
Full Chorus: Knightsbridge nursemaids, serving fairies, etc.
(Enter King, Princess Nekaya and Kalyba, and Lady Sophy. As the King enters, the escort present arms.)
King: Zara! my beloved daughter! Why, how well you look and how lovely you have grown! (embraces her.)
Zara: My dear father! (embracing him) And my two beautiful little sisters! (embracing them)
Nekaya: Not beautiful.
Kalyba: Nice-looking.
Zara: But first let me present to you the English warrior who commands my escort, and who has taken, O! such care of me during my voyage—Captain Fitzbattleaxe!
Troopers: The First Life Guards. When the tempest rose, And the ship went so—
(Captain Fitzbattleaxe motions them to be silent. The Troopers place themselves in the four corners of the stage, standing at ease, immovably, as if on sentry. Each is surrounded by an admiring group of young ladies, of whom they take no notice.)
King: (to Capt. Fitz.) Sir, you come from a country where every virtue flourishes. We trust that you will not criticize too severely such shortcomings as you may detect in our semi-barbarous society.
Fitz.: (looking at Zara) Sir, I have eyes for nothing but the blameless and the beautiful.
King: We thank you—he is really very polite! (Lady Sophy, who has been greatly scandalized by the attentions paid to the Lifeguardsmen by the young ladies, marches the Princesses Nekaya and Kalyba towards an exit.) Lady Sophy, do not leave us.
Lady S.: Sir, your children are young, and, so far, innocent. If they are to remain so, it is necessary that they be at once removed from the contamination of their present disgraceful surroundings. (She marches them off.)
King: (whose attention has thus been called to the proceedings of the young ladies—aside) Dear, dear! They really should- n't. (Aloud) Captain Fitzbattleaxe—
Fitz.: Sir.
King: Your Troopers appear to be receiving a troublesome amount of attention from those young ladies. I know how strict you English soldiers are, and I should be extremely distressed if anything occurred to shock their puritanical British sensitiveness.
Fitz.: Oh, I don't think there's any chance of that.
King: You think not? They won't be offended?
Fitz.: Oh no! They are quite hardened to it. They get a good deal of that sort of thing, standing sentry at the Horse Guards.
King: It's English, is it?
Fitz.: It's particularly English.
King: Then, of course, it's all right. Pray proceed, ladies, it's particularly English. Come, my daughter, for we have much to say to each other.
Zara: Farewell, Captain Fitzbattleaxe! I cannot thank you too em-phatically for the devoted care with which you have watched over me during our long and eventful voyage.
DUET — Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe.
Zara: Ah! gallant soldier, brave and true In tented field and tourney, I grieve to have occasioned you So very long a journey. A British warrior gives up all— His home and island beauty— When summoned to the trumpet call Of Regimental Duty!
Cho: Tantantara-rara-rara! Trumpet call of the Princess Zara!
ENSEMBLE
Men Fitz. and Zara (aside)
A British warrior gives up all, etc. Oh my joy, my pride, My delight to hide, Let us sing, aside, Ladies What in truth we feel, Let us whisper low Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. Of our love's glad glow, Lest the truth we show We would fain conceal.
Fitz.: Such escort duty, as his due, To young Lifeguardsman falling Completely reconciles him to His uneventful calling. When soldier seeks Utopian glades In charge of Youth and Beauty, Then pleasure merely masquerades As Regimental Duty!
All: Tantantarara-rara-rara! Trumpet-call of Princess Zara!
ENSEMBLE
Men Fitz. and Zara (aside)
A British warrior gives up all, etc. Oh! my hours are gold, And the joys untold, When my eyes behold Ladies My beloved Princess; And the years will seem Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. But a brief day-dream, In the joy extreme Of our happiness! (Exeunt King and Zara in one direction, Lifeguardsmen and crowd in opposite direction. Enter, at back, Scaphio and Phantis, who watch Zara as she goes off. Scaphio is seated, shaking violently, and obviously under the influence of some strong emotion.)
Phantis: There—tell me, Scaphio, is she not beautiful? Can you wonder that I love her so passionately?
Scaphio: No. She is extraordinarily—miraculously lovely! Good heavens, what a singularly beautiful girl!
Phantis: I knew you would say so!
Scaphio: What exquisite charm of manner! What surprising delicacy of gesture! Why, she's a goddess! a very goddess!
Phantis: (rather taken aback) Yes—she's—she's an attractive girl.
Scaphio: Attractive? Why, you must be blind!—She's entrancing—enthralling—intoxicating! (Aside) God bless my heart, what's the matter with me?
Phantis: (alarmed) Yes. You—you promised to help me to get her father's consent, you know.
Scaphio: Promised! Yes, but the convulsion has come, my good boy! It is she—my ideal! Why, what's this? (Staggering) Phantis! Stop me—I'm going mad—mad with the love of her!
Phantis: Scaphio, compose yourself, I beg. The girl is perfectly opaque! Besides, remember—each of us is helpless without the other. You can't succeed without my consent, you know.
Scaphio: And you dare to threaten? Oh, ungrateful! When you came to me, palsied with love for this girl, and implored my assis-tance, did I not unhesitatingly promise it? And this is the return you make? Out of my sight, ingrate! (Aside) Dear! dear! what is the matter with me? (Enter Capt. Fitzbattleaxe and Zara)
Zara: Dear me. I'm afraid we are interrupting a tete-a-tete.
Scaphio: (breathlessly) No, no. You come very appropriately. To be brief, we—we love you—this man and I—madly—passionately!
Zara: Sir!
Scaphio: And we don't know how we are to settle which of us is to marry you.
Fitz.: Zara, this is very awkward.
Scaphio: (very much overcome) I—I am paralyzed by the singular radiance of your extraordinary loveliness. I know I am incoherent. I never was like this before—it shall not occur again. I—shall be fluent, presently.
Zara: (aside) Oh, dear, Captain Fitzbattleaxe, what is to be done?
Fitz.: (aside) Leave it to me—I'll manage it. (Aloud) It's a common situation. Why not settle it in the English fashion?
Both: The English fashion? What is that?
Fitz.: It's very simple. In England, when two gentlemen are in love with the same lady, and until it is settled which gentleman is to blow out the brains of the other, it is provided, by the Rival Admirers' Clauses Consolidation Act, that the lady shall be entrusted to an officer of Household Cavalry as stakeholder, who is bound to hand her over to the survivor (on the Tontine principle) in a good condition of substantial and decorative repair.
Scaphio: Reasonable wear and tear and damages by fire excepted?
Fitz.: Exactly.
Phantis: Well, that seems very reasonable. (To Scaphio) What do you say—Shall we entrust her to this officer of Household Cavalry? It will give us time.
Scaphio: (trembling violently) I—I am not at present in a condition to think it out coolly—but if he is an officer of Household Cavalry, and if the Princess consents—-
Zara: Alas, dear sirs, I have no alternative—under the Rival Admirers' Clauses Consolidation Act!
Fitz.: Good—then that's settled.
QUARTET Fitzbattleaxe, Zara, Scaphio, and Phantis.
Fitz.: It's understood, I think, all round That, by the English custom bound I hold the lady safe and sound In trust for either rival, Until you clearly testify By sword and pistol, by and by, Which gentleman prefers to die, And which prefers survival.
ENSEMBLE
Sca. and Phan. Zara and Fitz
Its clearly understood all round We stand, I think, on safish ground That, by your English custom bound Our senses weak it will astound He holds the lady safe and sound If either gentleman is found In trust for either rival, Prepared to meet his rival. Until we clearly testify Their machinations we defy; By sword or pistol, by and by We won't be parted, you and I— Which gentleman prefers to die, Of bloodshed each is rather shy— And which prefers survival. They both prefer survival
Phan.: If I should die and he should live (aside to Fitz.) To you, without reserve, I give Her heart so young and sensitive, And all her predilections.
Sca.: If he should live and I should die, (aside to Fitz.) I see no kind of reason why You should not, if you wish it, try To gain her young affections.
ENSEMBLE
Sca. and Phant. Fitz and Zara
If I should die and you should live As both of us are positive To this young officer I give That both of them intend to live, Her heart so soft and sensitive, There's nothing in the case to give And all her predilections. Us cause for grave reflections. If you should live and I should die As both will live and neither die I see no kind of reason why I see no kind of reason why He should not, if he chooses, try I should not, if I wish it, try To win her young affections. To gain your young affections!
(Exit Scaphio and Phantis together)
DUET — Zara and Fitzbattleaxe
Ensemble: Oh admirable art! Oh, neatly-planned intention! Oh, happy intervention— Oh, well constructed plot!
When sages try to part Two loving hearts in fusion, Their wisdom's delusion, And learning serves them not!
Fitz.: Until quite plain Is their intent, These sages twain I represent. Now please infer That, nothing loth, You're henceforth, as it were, Engaged to marry both— Then take it that I represent the two— On that hypothesis, what would you do?
Zara. (aside): What would I do? what would I do? (To Fitz.) In such a case, Upon your breast, My blushing face I think I'd rest—(doing so) Then perhaps I might Demurely say— "I find this breastplate bright Is sorely in the way!"
Fitz.: Our mortal race Is never blest— There's no such case As perfect rest; Some petty blight Asserts its sway— Some crumpled roseleaf light Is always in the way!
(Exit Fitzbattleaxe. Manet Zara.)
(Enter King.)
King: My daughter! At last we are alone together.
Zara: Yes, and I'm glad we are, for I want to speak to you very seriously. Do you know this paper?
King: (aside) Da—! (Aloud) Oh yes—I've—I've seen it. Where in the world did you get this from?
Zara: It was given to me by Lady Sophy—my sisters' governess.
King: (aside) Lady Sophy's an angel, but I do sometimes wish she'd mind her own business! (Aloud) It's—ha! ha!—it's rather humorous.
Zara: I see nothing humorous in it. I only see that you, the despotic King of this country, are made the subject of the most scandalous insinuations. Why do you permit these things?
King: Well, they appeal to my sense of humor. It's the only really comic paper in Utopia, and I wouldn't be without it for the world.
Zara: If it had any literary merit I could understand it.
King: Oh, it has literary merit. Oh, distinctly, it has literary merit.
Zara: My dear father, it's mere ungrammatical twaddle.
King: Oh, it's not ungrammatical. I can't allow that. Unpleas-antly personal, perhaps, but written with an epigrammatical point that is very rare nowadays—very rare indeed.
Zara: (looking at cartoon) Why do they represent you with such a big nose?
King: (looking at cartoon) Eh? Yes, it is a big one! Why, the fact is that, in the cartoons of a comic paper, the size of your nose always varies inversely as the square of your popularity. It's the rule.
Zara: Then you must be at a tremendous discount just now! I see a notice of a new piece called "King Tuppence," in which an English tenor has the audacity to personate you on a public stage. I can only say that I am surprised that any English tenor should lend himself to such degrading personalities.
King: Oh, he's not really English. As it happens he's a Utopian, but he calls himself English.
Zara: Calls himself English?
King: Yes. Bless you, they wouldn't listen to any tenor who didn't call himself English.
Zara: And you permit this insolent buffoon to caricature you in a pointless burlesque! My dear father—if you were a free agent, you would never permit these outrages.
King: (almost in tears) Zara—I—I admit I am not altogether a free agent. I—I am controlled. I try to make the best of it, but sometimes I find it very difficult—very difficult indeed. Nominally a Despot, I am, between ourselves, the helpless tool of two unscrupulous Wise Men, who insist on my falling in with all their wishes and threaten to denounce me for immediate explosion if I remonstrate! (Breaks down completely)
Zara: My poor father! Now listen to me. With a view to remodel-ling the political and social institutions of Utopia, I have brought with me six Representatives of the principal causes that have tended to make England the powerful, happy, and blameless country which the consensus of European civiliza-tion has declared it to be. Place yourself unreservedly in the hands of these gentlemen, and they will reorganize your country on a footing that will enable you to defy your persecutors. They are all now washing their hands after their journey. Shall I introduce them?
King: My dear Zara, how can I thank you? I will consent to any-thing that will release me from the abominable tyranny of these two men. (Calling) What ho! Without there! (Enter Calynx) Summon my Court without an instant's delay! (Exit Calynx)
FINALE Enter every one, except the Flowers of Progress.
CHORUS Although your Royal summons to appear From courtesy was singularly free, Obedient to that summons we are here— What would your Majesty?
RECITATIVE — King
My worthy people, my beloved daughter Most thoughtfully has brought with her from England The types of all the causes that have made That great and glorious country what it is.
Chorus: Oh, joy unbounded!
Sca., Tar., Phan (aside). Why, what does this mean?
RECITATIVE — Zara
Attend to me, Utopian populace, Ye South Pacific island viviparians; All, in the abstract, types of courtly grace, Yet, when compared with Britain's glorious race, But little better than half clothed Barbarians!
CHORUS
Yes! Contrasted when With Englishmen, Are little better than half-clothed barbarians!
Enter all the Flowers of Progress, led by Fitzbattleaxe.
SOLOS — Zara and the Flowers of Progress.
(Presenting Captain Fitzbattleaxe)
When Britain sounds the trump of war (And Europe trembles), The army of the conqueror In serried ranks assemble; 'Tis then this warrior's eyes and sabre gleam For our protection— He represents a military scheme In all its proud perfection!
Chorus: Yes—yes He represents a military scheme In all its proud perfection. Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
SOLO — Zara.
(Presenting Sir Bailey Barre, Q.C., M.P.)
A complicated gentleman allow to present, Of all the arts and faculties the terse embodiment, He's a great arithmetician who can demonstrate with ease That two and two are three or five or anything you please; An eminent Logician who can make it clear to you That black is white—when looked at from the proper point of view; A marvelous Philologist who'll undertake to show That "yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."
Sir Bailey: Yes—yes—yes— "Yes" is but another and a neater form of "no." All preconceived ideas on any subject I can scout, And demonstrate beyond all possibility of doubt, That whether you're an honest man or whether you're a thief Depends on whose solicitor has given me my brief.
Chorus: Yes—yes—yes That whether your'e an honest man, etc. Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
Zara: (Presenting Lord Dramaleigh and County Councillor) What these may be, Utopians all, Perhaps you'll hardly guess— They're types of England's physical And moral cleanliness. This is a Lord High Chamberlain, Of purity the gauge— He'll cleanse our court from moral stain And purify our Stage.
Lord D.: Yes—yes—yes Court reputations I revise, And presentations scrutinize, New plays I read with jealous eyes, And purify the Stage.
Chorus: Court reputations, etc.
Zara: This County Councillor acclaim, Great Britain's latest toy— On anything you like to name His talents he'll employ—
All streets and squares he'll purify Within your city walls, And keep meanwhile a modest eye On wicked music halls.
C.C.: Yes—yes—yes In towns I make improvements great, Which go to swell the County Rate— I dwelling-houses sanitate, And purify the Halls!
Chorus: In towns he makes improvements great, etc. Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
SOLO — Zara:
(Presenting Mr. Goldbury)
A Company Promoter this with special education, Which teaches what Contango means and also Backwardation— To speculators he supplies a grand financial leaven, Time was when two were company—but now it must be seven.
Mr. Gold.: Yes—yes—yes Stupendous loans to foreign thrones I've largely advocated; In ginger-pops and peppermint-drops I've freely speculated; Then mines of gold, of wealth untold, Successfully I've floated And sudden falls in apple-stalls Occasionally quoted. And soon or late I always call For Stock Exchange quotation— No schemes too great and none too small For Companification!
Chorus: Yes! Yes! Yes! No schemes too great, etc. Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
Zara: (Presenting Capt. Sir Edward Corcoran, R.N.)
And lastly I present Great Britain's proudest boast, Who from the blows Of foreign foes Protects her sea-girt coast— And if you ask him in respectful tone, He'll show you how you may protect your own!
SOLO — Captain Corcoran
I'm Captain Corcoran, K.C.B., I'll teach you how we rule the sea, And terrify the simple Gauls; And how the Saxon and the Celt Their Europe-shaking blows have dealt With Maxim gun and Nordenfelt (Or will when the occasion calls). If sailor-like you'd play your cards, Unbend your sails and lower your yards, Unstep your masts—you'll never want 'em more. Though we're no longer hearts of oak, Yet we can steer and we can stoke, And thanks to coal, and thanks to coke, We never run a ship ashore!
All: What never?
Capt.: No, never!
All: What never?
Capt: Hardly ever!
All: Hardly ever run a ship ashore! Then give three cheers, and three cheers more, For the tar who never runs his ship ashore; Then give three cheers, and three cheers more, For he never runs his ship ashore!
CHORUS
All hail, ye types of England's power— Ye heaven-enlightened band! We bless the day and bless the hour That brought you to our land.
QUARTET
Ye wanderers from a mighty State, Oh, teach us how to legislate— Your lightest word will carry weight, In our attentive ears. Oh, teach the natives of this land (Who are not quick to understand) How to work off their social and Political arrears!
Capt. Fitz.: Increase your army! Lord D.: Purify your court! Capt. Corc: Get up your steam and cut your canvas short! Sir B.: To speak on both sides teach your sluggish brains! Mr. B.: Widen your thoroughfares, and flush your drains! Mr. Gold.: Utopia's much too big for one small head— I'll float it as a Company Limited!
King: A Company Limited? What may that be? The term, I rather think, is new to me.
Chorus: A company limited? etc.
Sca, Phant, and Tara (Aside) What does he mean? What does he mean? Give us a kind of clue! What does he mean? What does he mean? What is he going to do?
SONG — Mr. Goldbury
Some seven men form an Association (If possible, all Peers and Baronets), They start off with a public declaration To what extent they mean to pay their debts. That's called their Capital; if they are wary They will not quote it at a sum immense. The figure's immaterial—it may vary From eighteen million down to eighteenpence. I should put it rather low; The good sense of doing so Will be evident at once to any debtor. When it's left to you to say What amount you mean to pay, Why, the lower you can put it at, the better.
Chorus: When it's left to you to say, etc.
They then proceed to trade with all who'll trust 'em Quite irrespective of their capital (It's shady, but it's sanctified by custom); Bank, Railway, Loan, or Panama Canal. You can't embark on trading too tremendous— It's strictly fair, and based on common sense— If you succeed, your profits are stupendous— And if you fail, pop goes your eighteenpence.
Make the money-spinner spin! For you only stand to win, And you'll never with dishonesty be twitted. For nobody can know, To a million or so, To what extent your capital's committed!
Chorus: No, nobody can know, etc.
If you come to grief, and creditors are craving (For nothing that is planned by mortal head Is certain in this Vale of Sorrow—saving That one's Liability is Limited),— Do you suppose that signifies perdition? If so, you're but a monetary dunce— You merely file a Winding-Up Petition, And start another Company at once! Though a Rothschild you may be In your own capacity, As a Company you've come to utter sorrow— But the Liquidators say, "Never mind—you needn't pay," So you start another company to-morrow!
Chorus: But the liquidators say, etc.
King: Well, at first sight it strikes us as dishonest, But if its's good enough for virtuous England— The first commercial country in the world— It's good enough for us.
Sca., Phan., Tar. (aside to the King) You'd best take care— Please recollect we have not been consulted.
King: And do I understand that Great Britain Upon this Joint Stock principle is governed?
Mr. G.: We haven't come to that, exactly—but We're tending rapidly in that direction. The date's not distant.
King: (enthusiastically) We will be before you! We'll go down in posterity renowned As the First Sovereign in Christendom Who registered his Crown and Country under The Joint Stock Company's Act of Sixty-Two.
All: Ulahlica!
SOLO — King
Henceforward, of a verity, With Fame ourselves we link— We'll go down to Posterity Of sovereigns all the pink!
Sca., Phan., Tar.: (aside to King) If you've the mad temerity Our wishes thus to blink, You'll go down to Posterity, Much earlier than you think!
Tar.: (correcting them)
He'll go up to Posterity, If I inflict the blow!
Sca., Phan.: (angrily)
He'll go down to Posterity— We think we ought to know!
Tar.: (explaining) He'll go up to Posterity, Blown up with dynamite!
Sca., Phan.: (apologetically)
He'll go up to Posterity, Of course he will, you're right!
ENSEMBLE
King, Lady Sophy, Nek., Sca., Phan, and Tar Fitz. and Zara (aside) Kal., Calynx and Chorus(aside)
Henceforward of a verity, If he has the temerity Who love with all sincerity; With fame ourselves we Our wishes thus to blink link— Their lives may safely link.
And go down to Posterity, He'll go up to Posterity And as for our posterity Of sovereigns all pink! Much earlier than they think! We don't care what they think!
CHORUS
Let's seal this mercantile pact— The step we ne'er shall rue— It gives whatever we lacked— The statement's strictly true. All hail, astonishing Fact! All hail, Invention new— The Joint Stock Company's Act— The Act of Sixty-Two!
END OF ACT I