SONG — SIR JOSEPH

When I was a lad I served a term As office boy to an Attorney's firm. I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor, And I polished up the handle of the big front door. I polished up that handle so carefullee That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.—He polished, etc.

As office boy I made such a mark That they gave me the post of a junior clerk. I served the writs with a smile so bland, And I copied all the letters in a big round hand— I copied all the letters in a hand so free, That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.- He copied, etc.

In serving writs I made such a name That an articled clerk I soon became; I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit For the pass examination at the Institute, And that pass examination did so well for me, That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.—And that pass examination, etc.

Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip That they took me into the partnership. And that junior partnership, I ween, Was the only ship that I ever had seen. But that kind of ship so suited me, That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.- But that kind, etc.

I grew so rich that I was sent By a pocket borough into Parliament. I always voted at my party's call, And I never thought of thinking for myself at all. I thought so little, they rewarded me By making me the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.- He thought so little, etc.

Now landsmen all, whoever you may be, If you want to rise to the top of the tree, If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool, Be careful to be guided by this golden rule— Stick close to your desks and never go to sea, And you all may be rulers of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.—Stick close, etc.

SIR JOSEPH. You've a remarkably fine crew, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. It is a fine crew, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. (examining a very small midshipman). A British sailor is a splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. Indeed I hope so, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH, Never forget that they are the bulwarks of England's greatness, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. No bullying, I trust—no strong language of any kind, eh? CAPT. Oh, never, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. What, never? CAPT. Hardly ever, Sir Joseph. They are an excellent crew, and do their work thoroughly without it. SIR JOSEPH. Don't patronise them, sir—pray, don't patronise them. CAPT. Certainly not, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. That you are their captain is an accident of birth. I cannot permit these noble fellows to be patronised because an accident of birth has placed you above them and them below you. CAPT. I am the last person to insult a British sailor, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran. Desire that splendid seaman to step forward.

(DICK comes forward)

SIR JOSEPH. No, no, the other splendid seaman. CAPT. Ralph Rackstraw, three paces to the front—march! SIR JOSEPH (sternly). If what? CAPT. I beg your pardon—I don't think I understand you. SIR JOSEPH. If you please. CAPT. Oh, yes, of course. If you please. (RALPH steps forward.) SIR JOSEPH. You're a remarkably fine fellow. RALPH. Yes, your honour. SIR JOSEPH. And a first-rate seaman, I'll be bound. RALPH. There's not a smarter topman in the Navy, your honour, though I say it who shouldn't. SIR JOSEPH. Not at all. Proper self-respect, nothing more. Can you dance a hornpipe? RALPH. No, your honour. SIR JOSEPH. That's a pity: all sailors should dance hornpipes. I will teach you one this evening, after dinner. Now tell me—don't be afraid— how does your captain treat you, eh? RALPH. A better captain don't walk the deck, your honour. ALL. Aye; Aye! SIR JOSEPH. Good. I like to hear you speak well of your commanding officer; I daresay he don't deserve it, but still it does you credit. Can you sing? RALPH. I can hum a little, your honour. SIR JOSEPH. Then hum this at your leisure. (Giving him MS. music.) It is a song that I have composed for the use of the Royal Navy. It is designed to encourage independence of thought and action in the lower branches of the service, and to teach the principle that a British sailor is any man's equal, excepting mine. Now, Captain Corcoran, a word with you in your cabin, on a tender and sentimental subject. CAPT. Aye, aye, Sir Joseph (Crossing) Boatswain, in commemoration of this joyous occasion, see that extra grog is served out to the ship's company at seven bells. BOAT. Beg pardon. If what, your honour? CAPT. If what? I don't think I understand you. BOAT. If you please, your honour. CAPT. What! SIR JOSEPH. The gentleman is quite right. If you please. CAPT. (stamping his foot impatiently). If you please!

[Exit. SIR JOSEPH. For I hold that on the seas The expression, "if you please", A particularly gentlemanly tone implants. COUSIN HEBE. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts! ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

[Exeunt SIR JOSEPH AND RELATIVES.

BOAT. Ah! Sir Joseph's true gentleman; courteous and considerate to the very humblest. RALPH. True, Boatswain, but we are not the very humblest. Sir Joseph has explained our true position to us. As he says, a British seaman is any man's equal excepting his, and if Sir Joseph says that, is it not our duty to believe him? ALL. Well spoke! well spoke! DICK. You're on a wrong tack, and so is he. He means well, but he don't know. When people have to obey other people's orders, equality's out of the question. ALL (recoiling). Horrible! horrible! BOAT. Dick Deadeye, if you go for to infuriate this here ship's company too far, I won't answer for being able to hold 'em in. I'm shocked! that's what I am—shocked! RALPH. Messmates, my mind's made up. I'll speak to the captain's daughter, and tell her, like an honest man, of the honest love I have for her. ALL. Aye, aye! RALPH. Is not my love as good as another's? Is not my heart as true as another's? Have I not hands and eyes and ears and limbs like another? ALL. Aye, Aye! RALPH. True, I lack birth— BOAT. You've a berth on board this very ship. RALPH. Well said—I had forgotten that. Messmates—what do you say? Do you approve my determination? ALL. We do. DICK. I don t. BOAT. What is to be done with this here hopeless chap? Let us sing him the song that Sir Joseph has kindly composed for us. Perhaps it will bring this here miserable creetur to a proper state of mind.

GLEE!—RALPH, BOATSWAIN, BOATSWAIN'S MATE, and CHORUS

A British tar is a soaring soul, As free as a mountain bird, His energetic fist should be ready to resist A dictatorial word. His nose should pant and his lip should curl, His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl, His bosom should heave and his heart should glow, And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.

CHORUS.—His nose should pant, etc.

His eyes should flash with an inborn fire, His brow with scorn be wrung; He never should bow down to a domineering frown, Or the tang of a tyrant tongue. His foot should stamp and his throat should growl, His hair should twirl and his face should scowl; His eyes should flash and his breast protrude, And this should be his customary attitude—(pose).

CHORUS.—His foot should stamp, etc.

[All dance off excepting RALPH, who remains, leaning pensively against bulwark.

Enter JOSEPHINE from cabin

JOS. It is useless—Sir Joseph's attentions nauseate me. I know that he is a truly great and good man, for he told me so himself, but to me he seems tedious, fretful, and dictatorial. Yet his must be a mind of no common order, or he would not dare to teach my dear father to dance a hornpipe on the cabin table. (Sees RALPH.) Ralph Rackstraw! (Overcome by emotion.) RALPH. Aye, lady—no other than poor Ralph Rackstraw! JOS. (aside). How my heart beats! (Aloud) And why poor, Ralph? RALPH. I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady—rich only in never- ending unrest. In me there meet a combination of antithetical elements which are at eternal war with one another. Driven hither by objective influences—thither by subjective emotions—wafted one moment into blazing day, by mocking hope—plunged the next into the Cimmerian darkness of tangible despair, I am but a living ganglion of irreconcilable antagonisms. I hope I make myself clear, lady? JOS. Perfectly. (Aside.) His simple eloquence goes to my heart. Oh, if I dared—but no, the thought is madness! (Aloud.) Dismiss these foolish fancies, they torture you but needlessly. Come, make one effort. RALPH (aside). I will—one. (Aloud.) Josephine! JOS. (Indignantly). Sir! RALPH. Aye, even though Jove's armoury were launched at the head of the audacious mortal whose lips, unhallowed by relationship, dared to breathe that precious word, yet would I breathe it once, and then perchance be silent evermore. Josephine, in one brief breath I will concentrate the hopes, the doubts, the anxious fears of six weary months. Josephine, I am a British sailor, and I love you! JOS. Sir, this audacity! (Aside.) Oh, my heart, my beating heart! (Aloud.) This unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common sailor! (Aside.) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (Crossing, aloud.) Oh, sir, you forget the disparity in our ranks. RALPH. I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my life is in your hand—I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I lack in education and polite accomplishments, that I will endeavour to acquire. Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for consolation. I am proud and cannot stoop to implore. I have spoken and I wait your word. JOS. You shall not wait long. Your proffered love I haughtily reject. Go, sir, and learn to cast your eyes on some village maiden in your own poor rank—they should be lowered before your captain's daughter.

DUET—JOSEPHINE and RALPH

JOS. Refrain, audacious tar, Your suit from pressing, Remember what you are, And whom addressing! (Aside.) I'd laugh my rank to scorn In union holy, Were he more highly born Or I more lowly! RALPH. Proud lady, have your way, Unfeeling beauty! You speak and I obey, It is my duty! I am the lowliest tar That sails the water, And you, proud maiden, are My captain's daughter! (Aside.) My heart with anguish torn Bows down before her, She laughs my love to scorn, Yet I adore her!

[Repeat refrain, ensemble, then exit JOSEPHINE into cabin.

RALPH. (Recit.) Can I survive this overbearing Or live a life of mad despairing, My proffered love despised, rejected? No, no, it's not to be expected! (Calling off.) Messmates, ahoy! Come here! Come here!

Enter SAILORS, HEBE, and RELATIVES

ALL. Aye, aye, my boy, What cheer, what cheer? Now tell us, pray, Without delay, What does she say— What cheer, what cheer?

RALPH (to COUSIN HEBE). The maiden treats my suit with scorn, Rejects my humble gift, my lady; She says I am ignobly born, And cuts my hopes adrift, my lady. ALL. Oh, cruel one.

DICK. She spurns your suit? Oho! Oho! I told you so, I told you so.

SAILORS and RELATIVES. Shall { we } submit? Are { we } but slaves? they they Love comes alike to high and low— Britannia's sailors rule the waves, And shall they stoop to insult? No!

DICK. You must submit, you are but slaves; A lady she! Oho! Oho! You lowly toilers of the waves, She spurns you all—I told you so!

RALPH. My friends, my leave of life I'm taking, For oh, my heart, my heart is breaking. When I am gone, oh, prithee tell The maid that, as I died, I loved her well!

ALL (turning away, weeping). Of life, alas! his leave he's taking, For ah! his faithful heart is breaking; When he is gone we'll surely tell The maid that, as he died, he loved her well.

[During Chorus BOATSWAIN has loaded pistol, which he hands to RALPH.

RALPH. Be warned, my messmates all Who love in rank above you— For Josephine I fall!

[Puts pistol to his head. All the sailors stop their ears.

Enter JOSEPHINE on deck

JOS. Ah! stay your hand—I love you! ALL. Ah! stay your hand—she loves you! RALPH. (incredulously). Loves me? JOS. Loves you! ALL. Yes, yes—ah, yes,—she loves you!

ENSEMBLE

SAILORS and RELATIVES and JOSEPHINE

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen, For now the sky is all serene; The god of day—the orb of love— Has hung his ensign high above, The sky is all ablaze.

With wooing words and loving song, We'll chase the lagging hours along, And if {I find } the maiden coy, we find I'll } murmur forth decorous joy We'll In dreamy roundelays!

DICK DEADEYE

He thinks he's won his Josephine, But though the sky is now serene, A frowning thunderbolt above May end their ill-assorted love Which now is all ablaze.

Our captain, ere the day is gone, Will be extremely down upon The wicked men who art employ To make his Josephine less coy In many various ways. [Exit DICK.

JOS. This very night, HEBE. With bated breath RALPH. And muffled oar— JOS. Without a light, HEBE. As still as death, RALPH. We'll steal ashore JOS. A clergyman RALPH. Shall make us one BOAT, At half-past ten, JOS. And then we can RALPH Return, for none BOAT. Can part them then! ALL. This very night, etc.

(DICK appears at hatchway.)

DICK. Forbear, nor carry out the scheme you've planned; She is a lady—you a foremast hand! Remember, she's your gallant captain's daughter, And you the meanest slave that crawls the water! ALL. Back, vermin, back, Nor mock us! Back, vermin, back, You shock us! [Exit DICK

Let's give three cheers for the sailor's bride Who casts all thought of rank aside— Who gives up home and fortune too For the honest love of a sailor true! For a British tar is a soaring soul As free as a mountain bird! His energetic fist should be ready to resist A dictatorial word! His foot should stamp and his throat should growl, His hair should twirl and his face should scowl, His eyes should flash and his breast protrude, And this should be his customary attitude—(pose).

GENERAL DANCE

END OF ACT I



ACT II

Same Scene. Night. Awning removed. Moonlight. CAPTAIN discovered singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on a mandolin. LITTLE BUTTERCUP seated on quarterdeck, gazing sentimentally at him.

SONG—CAPTAIN

Fair moon, to thee I sing, Bright regent of the heavens, Say, why is everything Either at sixes or at sevens? I have lived hitherto Free from breath of slander, Beloved by all my crew— A really popular commander. But now my kindly crew rebel, My daughter to a tar is partial, Sir Joseph storms, and, sad to tell, He threatens a court martial! Fair moon, to thee I sing, Bright regent of the heavens, Say, why is everything Either at sixes or at sevens?

BUT. How sweetly he carols forth his melody to the unconscious moon! Of whom is he thinking? Of some high-born beauty? It may be! Who is poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his glance to fall on one so lowly! And yet if he knew—if he only knew! CAPT. (coming down). Ah! Little Buttercup, still on board? That is not quite right, little one. It would have been more respectable to have gone on shore at dusk. BUT, True, dear Captain—but the recollection of your sad pale face seemed to chain me to the ship. I would fain see you smile before I go. CAPT. Ah! Little Buttercup, I fear it will be long before I recover my accustomed cheerfulness, for misfortunes crowd upon me, and all my old friends seem to have turned against me! BUT, Oh no—do not say "all", dear Captain. That were unjust to one, at least. CAPT. True, for you are staunch to me. (Aside.) If ever I gave my heart again, methinks it would be to such a one as this! (Aloud.) I am touched to the heart by your innocent regard for me, and were we differently situated, I think I could have returned it. But as it is, I fear I can never be more to you than a friend. BUT, I understand! You hold aloof from me because you are rich and lofty—and I poor and lowly. But take care! The poor bumboat woman has gipsy blood in her veins, and she can read destinies. CAPT. Destinies? BUT. There is a change in store for you! CAPT. A change? BUT. Aye—be prepared!

DUET—LITTLE BUTTERCUP and CAPTAIN

BUT, Things are seldom what they seem, Skim milk masquerades as cream; Highlows pass as patent leathers; Jackdaws strut in peacock's feathers. CAPT. (puzzled). Very true, So they do. BUT. Black sheep dwell in every fold; All that glitters is not gold; Storks turn out to be but logs; Bulls are but inflated frogs. CAPT. (puzzled). So they be, Frequentlee. BUT. Drops the wind and stops the mill; Turbot is ambitious brill; Gild the farthing if you will, Yet it is a farthing still. CAPT. (puzzled). Yes, I know. That is so. Though to catch your drift I'm striving, It is shady—it is shady; I don't see at what you're driving, Mystic lady—mystic lady. (Aside.) Stern conviction's o'er me stealing, That the mystic lady's dealing In oracular revealing. BUT. (aside).Stern conviction's o'er him stealing, That the mystic lady's dealing In oracular revealing. Yes, I know— That is so! CAPT. Though I'm anything but clever, I could talk like that for ever: Once a cat was killed by care; Only brave deserve the fair. Very true, So they do. CAPT. Wink is often good as nod; Spoils the child who spares the rod; Thirsty lambs run foxy dangers; Dogs are found in many mangers. BUT. Frequentlee, I agree. Paw of cat the chestnut snatches; Worn-out garments show new patches; Only count the chick that hatches; Men are grown-up catchy-catchies. BUT. Yes, I know, That is so. (Aside.) Though to catch my drift he's striving, I'll dissemble—I'll dissemble; When he sees at what I'm driving, Let him tremble—let him tremble!

ENSEMBLE

Though a mystic tone { I } borrow, you You will } learn the truth with sorrow, I shall Here to-day and gone to-morrow; Yes, I know— That is so! [At the end exit LITTLE BUTTERCUP melodramatically.

CAPT. Incomprehensible as her utterances are, I nevertheless feel that they are dictated by a sincere regard for me. But to what new misery is she referring? Time alone can tell!

Enter SIR JOSEPH

SIR JOSEPH. Captain Corcoran, I am much disappointed with your daughter. In fact, I don't think she will do. CAPT. She won't do, Sir Joseph! SIR JOSEPH. I'm afraid not. The fact is, that although I have urged my suit with as much eloquence as is consistent with an official utterance, I have done so hitherto without success. How do you account for this? CAPT. Really, Sir Joseph, I hardly know. Josephine is of course sensible of your condescension. SIR JOSEPH. She naturally would be. CAPT. But perhaps your exalted rank dazzles her. SIR JOSEPH. You think it does? CAPT. I can hardly say; but she is a modest girl, and her social position is far below your own. It may be that she feels she is not worthy of you. SIR JOSEPH. That is really a very sensible suggestion, and displays more knowledge of human nature than I had given you credit for. CAPT. See, she comes. If your lordship would kindly reason with her and assure her officially that it is a standing rule at the Admiralty that love levels all ranks, her respect for an official utterance might induce her to look upon your offer in its proper light. SIR JOSEPH. It is not unlikely. I will adopt your suggestion. But soft, she is here. Let us withdraw, and watch our opportunity.

Enter JOSEPHINE from cabin. FIRST LORD and CAPTAIN retire

SCENE—JOSEPHINE

The hours creep on apace, My guilty heart is quaking! Oh, that I might retrace The step that I am taking! Its folly it were easy to be showing, What I am giving up and whither going. On the one hand, papa's luxurious home, Hung with ancestral armour and old brasses, Carved oak and tapestry from distant Rome, Rare "blue and white" Venetian finger-glasses, Rich oriental rugs, luxurious sofa pillows, And everything that isn't old, from Gillow's. And on the other, a dark and dingy room, In some back street with stuffy children crying, Where organs yell, and clacking housewives fume, And clothes are hanging out all day a-drying. With one cracked looking-glass to see your face in, And dinner served up in a pudding basin!

A simple sailor, lowly born, Unlettered and unknown, Who toils for bread from early mom Till half the night has flown! No golden rank can he impart— No wealth of house or land— No fortune save his trusty heart And honest brown right hand! And yet he is so wondrous fair That love for one so passing rare, So peerless in his manly beauty, Were little else than solemn duty! Oh, god of love, and god of reason, say, Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey!

SIR JOSEPH and CAPTAIN enter

SIR JOSEPH. Madam, it has been represented to me that you are appalled by my exalted rank. I desire to convey to you officially my assurance, that if your hesitation is attributable to that circumstance, it is uncalled for. JOS. Oh! then your lordship is of opinion that married happiness is not inconsistent with discrepancy in rank? SIR JOSEPH. I am officially of that opinion. JOS. That the high and the lowly may be truly happy together, provided that they truly love one another? SIR JOSEPH. Madam, I desire to convey to you officially my opinion that love is a platform upon which all ranks meet. JOS. I thank you, Sir Joseph. I did hesitate, but I will hesitate no longer. (Aside.) He little thinks how eloquently he has pleaded his rival's cause!

TRIO

FIRST LORD, CAPTAIN, and JOSEPHINE

CAPT. Never mind the why and wherefore, Love can level ranks, and therefore, Though his lordship's station's mighty, Though stupendous be his brain, Though your tastes are mean and flighty And your fortune poor and plain, CAPT. and Ring the merry bells on board-ship, SIR JOSEPH. Rend the air with warbling wild, For the union of { his } lordship my With a humble captain's child! CAPT. For a humble captain's daughter— JOS. For a gallant captain's daughter— SIR JOSEPH. And a lord who rules the water— JOS. (aside). And a tar who ploughs the water! ALL. Let the air with joy be laden, Rend with songs the air above, For the union of a maiden With the man who owns her love! SIR JOSEPH. Never mind the why and wherefore, Love can level ranks, and therefore, Though your nautical relation (alluding to CAPT.) In my set could scarcely pass— Though you occupy a station In the lower middle class— CAPT. and Ring the merry bells on board-ship, SIR JOSEPH Rend the air with warbling wild, For the union of { my } lordship your With a humble captain's child! CAPT. For a humble captain's daughter— JOS. For a gallant captain's daughter— SIR JOSEPH. And a lord who rules the water— JOS. (aside). And a tar who ploughs the water! ALL. Let the air with joy be laden, Rend with songs the air above, For the union of a maiden With the man who owns her love!

JOS. Never mind the why and wherefore, Love can level ranks, and therefore I admit the jurisdiction; Ably have you played your part; You have carried firm conviction To my hesitating heart. CAPT. and Ring the merry bells on board-ship, SIR JOSEPH. Rend the air with warbling wild, For the union of { my } lordship his With a humble captain's child! CAPT. For a humble captain's daughter— JOS. For a gallant captain's daughter— SIR JOSEPH. And a lord who rules the water— JOS. (aside). And a tar who ploughs the water! (Aloud.) Let the air with joy be laden. CAPT. and SIR JOSEPH. Ring the merry bells on board-ship— JOS. For the union of a maiden— CAPT. and SIR JOSEPH. For her union with his lordship. ALL. Rend with songs the air above For the man who owns her love!

[Exit JOS. CAPT. Sir Joseph, I cannot express to you my delight at the happy result of your eloquence. Your argument was unanswerable. SIR JOSEPH. Captain Corcoran, it is one of the happiest characteristics of this glorious country that official utterances are invariably regarded as unanswerable. [Exit SIR JOSEPH. CAPT. At last my fond hopes are to be crowned. My only daughter is to be the bride of a Cabinet Minister. The prospect is Elysian. (During this speech DICK DEADEYE has entered.) DICK. Captain. CAPT. Deadeye! You here? Don't! (Recoiling from him.) DICK. Ah, don't shrink from me, Captain. I'm unpleasant to look at, and my name's agin me, but I ain't as bad as I seem. CAPT. What would you with me? DICK (mysteriously). I'm come to give you warning. CAPT. Indeed! do you propose to leave the Navy then? DICK. No, no, you misunderstand me; listen!

DUET CAPTAIN and DICK DEADEYE

DICK. Kind Captain, I've important information, Sing hey, the kind commander that you are, About a certain intimate relation, Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar. BOTH. The merry maiden and the tar.

CAPT. Good fellow, in conundrums you are speaking, Sing hey, the mystic sailor that you are; The answer to them vainly I am seeking; Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar. BOTH The merry maiden and the tar.

DICK. Kind Captain, your young lady is a-sighing, Sing hey, the simple captain that you are, This very might with Rackstraw to be flying; Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar. BOTH. The merry maiden and the tar.

CAPT. Good fellow, you have given timely warning, Sing hey, the thoughtful sailor that you are, I'll talk to Master Rackstraw in the morning: Sing hey, the cat-o'-nine-tails and the tar. (Producing a "cat".)

BOTH. The merry cat-o'-nine-tails and the tar!

CAPT. Dick Deadeye—I thank you for your warning—I will at once take means to arrest their flight. This boat cloak will afford me ample disguise—So! (Envelops himself in a mysterious cloak, holding it before his face.) DICK. Ha, ha! They are foiled—foiled—foiled!

Enter Crew on tiptoe, with RALPH and BOATSWAIN meeting JOSEPHINE, who enters from cabin on tiptoe, with bundle of necessaries, and accompanied by LITTLE BUTTERCUP.

ENSEMBLE

Carefully on tiptoe stealing, Breathing gently as we may, Every step with caution feeling, We will softly steal away.

(CAPTAIN stamps)—Chord.

ALL (much alarmed). Goodness me— Why, what was that? DICK. Silent be, It was the cat! ALL. (reassured). It was—it was the cat! CAPT. (producing cat-o'-nine-tails). They're right, it was the cat!

ALL. Pull ashore, in fashion steady, Hymen will defray the fare, For a clergyman is ready To unite the happy pair!

(Stamp as before, and Chord.)

ALL. Goodness me, Why, what was that? DICK. Silent be, Again the cat! ALL. It was again that cat! CAPT. (aside). They're right, it was the cat! CAPT. (throwing off cloak). Hold! (All start.) Pretty daughter of mine, I insist upon knowing Where you may be going With these sons of the brine, For my excellent crew, Though foes they could thump any, Are scarcely fit company, My daughter, for you. CREW. Now, hark at that, do! Though foes we could thump any, We are scarcely fit company For a lady like you!

RALPH. Proud officer, that haughty lip uncurl! Vain man, suppress that supercilious sneer, For I have dared to love your matchless girl, A fact well known to all my messmates here!

CAPT. Oh, horror!

RALPH and Jos. { I } humble, poor, and lowly born, He The meanest in the port division— The butt of epauletted scorn— The mark of quarter-deck derision— Have } dare to raise { my } wormy eyes Has his Above the dust to which you'd mould { me him In manhood's glorious pride to rise, I am } an Englishman—behold { me He is him

ALL. He is an Englishman! BOAT. He is an Englishman! For he himself has said it, And it's greatly to his credit, That he is an Englishman!

ALL. That he is an Englishman! BOAT. For he might have been a Roosian, A French, or Turk, or Proosian, Or perhaps Itali-an!

ALL. Or perhaps Itali-an! BOAT. But in spite of all temptations To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman!

ALL. For in spite of all temptations, etc.

CAPT. (trying to repress his anger). In uttering a reprobation To any British tar, I try to speak with moderation, But you have gone too far. I'm very sorry to disparage A humble foremast lad, But to seek your captain's child in marriage, Why damme, it's too bad

[During this, COUSIN HEBE and FEMALE RELATIVES have entered.

ALL (shocked). Oh! CAPT. Yes, damme, it's too bad! ALL. Oh! CAPT. and DICK DEADEYE. Yes, damme, it s too bad.

[During this, SIR JOSEPH has appeared on poop-deck. He is horrified at the bad language.

HEBE. Did you hear him? Did you hear him? Oh, the monster overbearing! Don't go near him—don't go near him— He is swearing—he is swearing! SIR JOSEPH. My pain and my distress, I find it is not easy to express; My amazement—my surprise— You may learn from the expression of my eyes! CAPT. My lord—one word—the facts are not before you The word was injudicious, I allow— But hear my explanation, I implore you, And you will be indignant too, I vow! SIR JOSEPH. I will hear of no defence, Attempt none if you're sensible. That word of evil sense Is wholly indefensible. Go, ribald, get you hence To your cabin with celerity. This is the consequence Of ill-advised asperity

[Exit CAPTAIN, disgraced, followed by JOSEPHINE

ALL. This is the consequence, Of ill-advised asperity! SIR JOSEPH. For I'll teach you all, ere long, To refrain from language strong For I haven't any sympathy for ill-bred taunts! HEBE. No more have his sisters, nor his cousins, nor his aunts. ALL. For he is an Englishman, etc.

SIR JOSEPH. Now, tell me, my fine fellow—for you are a fine fellow— RALPH. Yes, your honour. SIR JOSEPH. How came your captain so far to forget himself? I am quite sure you had given him no cause for annoyance. RALPH, Please your honour, it was thus-wise. You see I'm only a topman- -a mere foremast hand— SIR JOSEPH. Don't be ashamed of that. Your position as a topman is a very exalted one. RALPH. Well, your honour, love burns as brightly in the fo'c'sle as it does on the quarter-deck, and Josephine is the fairest bud that ever blossomed upon the tree of a poor fellow's wildest hopes.

Enter JOSEPHINE; she rushes to RALPH'S arms

JOS. Darling! (SIR JOSEPH horrified.) RALPH. She is the figurehead of my ship of life—the bright beacon that guides me into my port of happiness—that the rarest, the purest gem that ever sparkled on a poor but worthy fellow's trusting brow! ALL. Very pretty, very pretty! SIR JOSEPH. Insolent sailor, you shall repent this outrage. Seize him! (Two Marines seize him and handcuff him.) JOS. Oh, Sir Joseph, spare him, for I love him tenderly. SIR JOSEPH. Pray, don't. I will teach this presumptuous mariner to discipline his affections. Have you such a thing as a dungeon on board? ALL. We have! DICK. They have! SIR JOSEPH. Then load him with chains and take him there at once!

OCTETTE

RALPH. Farewell, my own, Light of my life, farewell! For crime unknown I go to a dungeon cell.

JOS. I will atone. In the meantime farewell! And all alone Rejoice in your dungeon cell!

SIR JOSEPH. A bone, a bone I'll pick with this sailor fell; Let him be shown at once At once to his dungeon cell.

BOATSWAIN, DICK DEADEYE, and COUSIN HEBE

He'll hear no tone Of the maiden he loves so well! No telephone Communicates with his cell!

BUT. (mysteriously). But when is known The secret I have to tell, Wide will be thrown The door of his dungeon cell.

ALL. For crime unknown He goes to a dungeon cell! [RALPH is led off in custody.

SIR JOSEPH. My pain and my distress Again it is not easy to express. My amazement, my surprise, Again you may discover from my eyes.

ALL. How terrible the aspect of his eyes!

BUT. Hold! Ere upon your loss You lay much stress, A long-concealed crime I would confess.

SONG—BUTTERCUP

A many years ago, When I was young and charming, As some of you may know, I practised baby-farming.

ALL. Now this is most alarming! When she was young and charming, She practised baby-farming, A many years ago.

BUT. Two tender babes I nursed: One was of low condition, The other, upper crust, A regular patrician.

ALL (explaining to each other). Now, this is the position: One was of low condition, The other a patrician, A many years ago.

BUT. Oh, bitter is my cup! However could I do it? I mixed those children up, And not a creature knew it!

ALL. However could you do it? Some day, no doubt, you'll rue it, Although no creature knew it, So many years ago.

BUT. In time each little waif Forsook his foster-mother, The well born babe was Ralph— Your captain was the other!!!

ALL. They left their foster-mother, The one was Ralph, our brother, Our captain was the other, A many years ago.

SIR JOSEPH. Then I am to understand that Captain Corcoran and Ralph were exchanged in childhood's happy hour—that Ralph is really the Captain, and the Captain is Ralph? BUT. That is the idea I intended to convey, officially! SIR JOSEPH. And very well you have conveyed it. BUT. Aye! aye! yer 'onour. SIR JOSEPH. Dear me! Let them appear before me, at once!

[RALPH. enters as CAPTAIN; CAPTAIN as a common sailor. JOSEPHINE rushes to his arms

JOS. My father—a common sailor! CAPT. It is hard, is it not, my dear? SIR JOSEPH. This is a very singular occurrence; I congratulate you both. (To RALPH.) Desire that remarkably fine seaman to step forward. RALPH. Corcoran. Three paces to the front—march! CAPT. If what? RALPH. If what? I don't think I understand you. CAPT. If you please. SIR JOSEPH. The gentleman is quite right. If you please. RALPH. Oh! If you please. (CAPTAIN steps forward.) SIR JOSEPH (to CAPTAIN).You are an extremely fine fellow. CAPT. Yes, your honour. SIR JOSEPH. So it seems that you were Ralph, and Ralph was you. CAPT. SO it seems, your honour. SIR JOSEPH. Well, I need not tell you that after this change in your condition, a marriage with your daughter will be out of the question. CAPT. Don't say that, your honour—love levels all ranks. SIR JOSEPH. It does to a considerable extent, but it does not level them as much as that. (Handing JOSEPHINE to RALPH.) Here — take her, sir, and mind you treat her kindly. RALPH and JOS. Oh bliss, oh rapture! CAPT. and BUT. Oh rapture, oh bliss!

SIR JOSEPH. Sad my lot and sorry, What shall I do? I cannot live alone! HEBE. Fear nothing—while I live I'll not desert you. I'll soothe and comfort your declining days. SIR JOSEPH. No, don't do that. HEBE. Yes, but indeed I'd rather— SIR JOSEPH (resigned). To-morrow morn our vows shall all be plighted, Three loving pairs on the same day united!

QUARTETTE

JOSEPHINE, HEBE, RALPH, and DEADEYE

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen, The clouded sky is now serene, The god of day—the orb of love, Has hung his ensign high above, The sky is all ablaze.

With wooing words and loving song, We'll chase the lagging hours along, And if { he finds } the maiden coy, I find We'll murmur forth decorous joy, In dreamy roundelay.

CAPT. For he's the Captain of the Pinafore. ALL. And a right good captain too! CAPT. And though before my fall I was captain of you all, I'm a member of the crew. ALL. Although before his fall, etc. CAPT. I shall marry with a wife, In my humble rank of life! (turning to BUT.) And you, my own, are she— I must wander to and fro; But wherever I may go, I shall never be untrue to thee! ALL. What, never? CAPT. No, never! ALL. What, never! CAPT. Hardly ever! ALL. Hardly ever be untrue to thee. Then give three cheers, and one cheer more For the former Captain of the Pinafore.

BUT. For he loves Little Buttercup, dear Little Buttercup, Though I could never tell why; But still he loves Buttercup, poor Little Buttercup, Sweet Little Buttercup, aye! ALL. For he loves, etc.

SIR JOSEPH. I'm the monarch of the sea, And when I've married thee (to HEBE), I'll be true to the devotion that my love implants, HEBE. Then good-bye to his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts, Especially his cousins, Whom he reckons up by dozens, His sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

ALL. For he is an Englishman, And he himself hath said it, And it's greatly to his credit That he is an Englishman!

CURTAIN



IOLANTHE

OR

THE PEER AND THE PERI

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE LORD CHANCELLOR EARL OF MOUNTARARAT EARL TOLLOLLER PRIVATE WILLIS (of the Grenadier Guards) STREPHON (an Arcadian Shepherd) QUEEN OF THE FAIRIES IOLANTHE (a Fairy, Strephon's Mother)

FAIRIES: CELIA LEILA FLETA

PHYLLIS (an Arcadian Shepherdess and Ward of Chancery)

ACT I

An Arcadian Landscape

ACT II

Palace Yard, Westminster



ACT I

SCENE.—An Arcadian Landscape. A river runs around the back of the stage. A rustic bridge crosses the river.

Enter Fairies, led by Leila, Celia, and Fleta. They trip around the stage, singing as they dance.

CHORUS.

Tripping hither, tripping thither, Nobody knows why or whither; We must dance and we must sing Round about our fairy ring!

SOLO—CELIA.

We are dainty little fairies, Ever singing, ever dancing; We indulge in our vagaries In a fashion most entrancing. If you ask the special function Of our never-ceasing motion, We reply, without compunction, That we haven't any notion!

CHORUS.

No, we haven't any notion! Tripping hither, etc.

SOLO—LEILA.

If you ask us how we live, Lovers all essentials give— We can ride on lovers' sighs, Warm ourselves in lovers' eyes, Bathe ourselves in lovers' tears, Clothe ourselves with lovers' fears, Arm ourselves with lovers' darts, Hide ourselves in lovers' hearts. When you know us, you'll discover That we almost live on lover!

CHORUS.

Yes, we live on lover! Tripping hither, etc. (At the end of Chorus, all sigh wearily.)

CELIA. Ah, it's all very well, but since our Queen banished Iolanthe, fairy revels have not been what they were!

LEILA. Iolanthe was the life and soul of Fairyland. Why, she wrote all our songs and arranged all our dances! We sing her songs and we trip her measures, but we don't enjoy ourselves! FLETA. To think that five-and-twenty years have elapsed since she was banished! What could she have done to have deserved so terrible a punishment? LEILA. Something awful! She married a mortal! FLETA. Oh! Is it injudicious to marry a mortal? LEILA. Injudicious? It strikes at the root of the whole fairy system! By our laws, the fairy who marries a mortal dies! CELIA. But Iolanthe didn't die!

(Enter Fairy Queen.)

QUEEN. No, because your Queen, who loved her with a surpassing love, commuted her sentence to penal servitude for life, on condition that she left her husband and never communicated with him again! LEILA. That sentence of penal servitude she is now working out, on her head, at the bottom of that stream! QUEEN. Yes, but when I banished her, I gave her all the pleasant places of the earth to dwell in. I'm sure I never intended that she should go and live at the bottom of a stream! It makes me perfectly wretched to think of the discomfort she must have undergone! LEILA. Think of the damp! And her chest was always delicate. QUEEN. And the frogs! Ugh! I never shall enjoy any peace of mind until I know why Iolanthe went to live among the frogs! FLETA. Then why not summon her and ask her? QUEEN. Why? Because if I set eyes on her I should forgive her at once! CELIA. Then why not forgive her? Twenty-five years—it's a long time! LEILA. Think how we loved her! QUEEN. Loved her? What was your love to mine? Why, she was invaluable to me! Who taught me to curl myself inside a buttercup? Iolanthe! Who taught me to swing upon a cobweb? Iolanthe! Who taught me to dive into a dewdrop—to nestle in a nutshell—to gambol upon gossamer? Iolanthe! LEILA. She certainly did surprising things! FLETA. Oh, give her back to us, great Queen, for your sake if not for ours! (All kneel in supplication.) QUEEN (irresolute). Oh, I should be strong, but I am weak! I should be marble, but I am clay! Her punishment has been heavier than I intended. I did not mean that she should live among the frogs—and—well, well, it shall be as you wish—it shall be as you wish!

INVOCATION—QUEEN.

Iolanthe! From thy dark exile thou art summoned! Come to our call— Come, come, Iolanthe!

CELIA. Iolanthe!

LEILA. Iolanthe!

ALL. Come to our call, Iolanthe! Iolanthe, come!

(Iolanthe rises from the water. She is clad in water-weeds. She approaches the Queen with head bent and arms crossed.)

IOLANTHE. With humbled breast And every hope laid low, To thy behest, Offended Queen, I bow!

QUEEN. For a dark sin against our fairy laws We sent thee into life-long banishment; But mercy holds her sway within our hearts— Rise—thou art pardoned!

IOL. Pardoned!

ALL. Pardoned!

(Her weeds fall from her, and she appears clothed as a fairy. The Queen places a diamond coronet on her head, and embraces her. The others also embrace her.)

CHORUS.

Welcome to our hearts again, Iolanthe! Iolanthe! We have shared thy bitter pain, Iolanthe! Iolanthe!

Every heart and every hand In our loving little band Welcomes thee to Fairyland, Iolanthe!

QUEEN. And now, tell me, with all the world to choose from, why on earth did you decide to live at the bottom of that stream? IOL. To be near my son, Strephon. QUEEN. Bless my heart, I didn't know you had a son. IOL. He was born soon after I left my husband by your royal command—but he does not even know of his father's existence. FLETA. How old is he? IOL. Twenty-four. LEILA. Twenty-four! No one, to look at you, would think you had a son of twenty-four! But that's one of the advantages of being immortal. We never grow old! Is he pretty? IOL. He's extremely pretty, but he's inclined to be stout. ALL (disappointed). Oh! QUEEN. I see no objection to stoutness, in moderation. CELIA. And what is he? IOL. He's an Arcadian shepherd—and he loves Phyllis, a Ward in Chancery. CELIA. A mere shepherd! and he half a fairy! IOL. He's a fairy down to the waist—but his legs are mortal. ALL. Dear me! QUEEN. I have no reason to suppose that I am more curious than other people, but I confess I should like to see a person who is a fairy down to the waist, but whose legs are mortal. IOL. Nothing easier, for here he comes!

(Enter Strephon, singing and dancing and playing on a flageolet. He does not see the Fairies, who retire up stage as he enters.)

SONG—STREPHON.

Good morrow, good mother! Good mother, good morrow! By some means or other, Pray banish your sorrow! With joy beyond telling My bosom is swelling, So join in a measure Expressive of pleasure, For I'm to be married to-day—to-day— Yes, I'm to be married to-day!

CHORUS (aside). Yes, he's to be married to-day—to-day— Yes, he's to be married to-day!

IOL. Then the Lord Chancellor has at last given his consent to your marriage with his beautiful ward, Phyllis? STREPH. Not he, indeed. To all my tearful prayers he answers me, "A shepherd lad is no fit helpmate for a Ward of Chancery." I stood in court, and there I sang him songs of Arcadee, with flageolet accompaniment—in vain. At first he seemed amused, so did the Bar; but quickly wearying of my song and pipe, bade me get out. A servile usher then, in crumpled bands and rusty bombazine, led me, still singing, into Chancery Lane! I'll go no more; I'll marry her to-day, and brave the upshot, be it what it may! (Sees Fairies.) But who are these? IOL. Oh, Strephon! rejoice with me, my Queen has pardoned me! STREPH. Pardoned you, mother? This is good news indeed. IOL. And these ladies are my beloved sisters. STREPH. Your sisters! Then they are—my aunts! QUEEN. A pleasant piece of news for your bride on her wedding day! STREPH. Hush! My bride knows nothing of my fairyhood. I dare not tell her, lest it frighten her. She thinks me mortal, and prefers me so. LEILA. Your fairyhood doesn't seem to have done you much good. STREPH. Much good! My dear aunt! it's the curse of my existence! What's the use of being half a fairy? My body can creep through a keyhole, but what's the good of that when my legs are left kicking behind? I can make myself invisible down to the waist, but that's of no use when my legs remain exposed to view! My brain is a fairy brain, but from the waist downwards I'm a gibbering idiot. My upper half is immortal, but my lower half grows older every day, and some day or other must die of old age. What's to become of my upper half when I've buried my lower half I really don't know! FAIRIES. Poor fellow! QUEEN. I see your difficulty, but with a fairy brain you should seek an intellectual sphere of action. Let me see. I've a borough or two at my disposal. Would you like to go into Parliament? IOL. A fairy Member! That would be delightful! STREPH. I'm afraid I should do no good there—you see, down to the waist, I'm a Tory of the most determined description, but my legs are a couple of confounded Radicals, and, on a division, they'd be sure to take me into the wrong lobby. You see, they're two to one, which is a strong working majority. QUEEN. Don't let that distress you; you shall be returned as a Liberal-Conservative, and your legs shall be our peculiar care. STREPH. (bowing). I see your Majesty does not do things by halves. QUEEN. No, we are fairies down to the feet.

ENSEMBLE.

QUEEN. Fare thee well, attractive stranger. FAIRIES. Fare thee well, attractive stranger. QUEEN. Shouldst thou be in doubt or danger, Peril or perplexitee, Call us, and we'll come to thee! FAIRIES. Aye! Call us, and we'll come to thee! Tripping hither, tripping thither, Nobody knows why or whither; We must now be taking wing To another fairy ring!

(Fairies and Queen trip off, Iolanthe, who takes an affectionate farewell of her son, going off last.)

(Enter Phyllis, singing and dancing, and accompanying herself on a flageolet.)

SONG—PHYLLIS.

Good morrow, good lover! Good lover, good morrow! I prithee discover, Steal, purchase, or borrow Some means of concealing The care you are feeling, And join in a measure Expressive of pleasure, For we're to be married to-day—to-day! Yes, we're to be married to-day!

BOTH. Yes, we're to be married, etc.

STREPH. (embracing her). My Phyllis! And to-day we are to be made happy for ever. PHYL. Well, we're to be married. STREPH. It's the same thing. PHYL. I suppose it is. But oh, Strephon, I tremble at the step I'm taking! I believe it's penal servitude for life to marry a Ward of Court without the Lord Chancellor's consent! I shall be of age in two years. Don't you think you could wait two years? STREPH. Two years. Have you ever looked in the glass? PHYL. No, never. STREPH. Here, look at that (showing her a pocket mirror), and tell me if you think it rational to expect me to wait two years? PHYL. (looking at herself). No. You're quite right—it's asking too much. One must be reasonable. STREPH. Besides, who knows what will happen in two years? Why, you might fall in love with the Lord Chancellor himself by that time! PHYL. Yes. He's a clean old gentleman. STREPH. As it is, half the House of Lords are sighing at your feet. PHYL. The House of Lords are certainly extremely attentive. STREPH. Attentive? I should think they were! Why did five-and-twenty Liberal Peers come down to shoot over your grass-plot last autumn? It couldn't have been the sparrows. Why did five-and-twenty Conservative Peers come down to fish your pond? Don't tell me it was the gold-fish! No, no—delays are dangerous, and if we are to marry, the sooner the better.

DUET—STREPHON and PHYLLIS.

PHYLLIS. None shall part us from each other, One in life and death are we: All in all to one another— I to thee and thou to me!

BOTH. Thou the tree and I the flower— Thou the idol; I the throng— Thou the day and I the hour— Thou the singer; I the song!

STREPH. All in all since that fond meeting When, in joy, I woke to find Mine the heart within thee beating, Mine the love that heart enshrined!

BOTH. Thou the stream and I the willow— Thou the sculptor; I the clay— Thou the Ocean; I the billow— Thou the sunrise; I the day!

(Exeunt Strephon and Phyllis together.)

(March. Enter Procession of Peers.)

CHORUS.

Loudly let the trumpet bray! Tantantara! Proudly bang the sounding brasses! Tzing! Boom! As upon its lordly way This unique procession passes, Tantantara! Tzing! Boom! Bow, bow, ye lower middle classes! Bow, bow, ye tradesmen, bow, ye masses! Blow the trumpets, bang the brasses! Tantantara! Tzing! Boom! We are peers of highest station, Paragons of legislation, Pillars of the British nation! Tantantara! Tzing! Boom!

(Enter the Lord Chancellor, followed by his train-bearer.)

SONG—LORD CHANCELLOR.

The Law is the true embodiment Of everything that's excellent. It has no kind of fault or flaw, And I, my Lords, embody the Law. The constitutional guardian I Of pretty young Wards in Chancery, All very agreeable girls—and none Are over the age of twenty-one. A pleasant occupation for A rather susceptible Chancellor!

ALL. A pleasant, etc.

But though the compliment implied Inflates me with legitimate pride, It nevertheless can't be denied That it has its inconvenient side. For I'm not so old, and not so plain, And I'm quite prepared to marry again, But there'd be the deuce to pay in the Lords If I fell in love with one of my Wards! Which rather tries my temper, for I'm such a susceptible Chancellor!

ALL. Which rather, etc.

And every one who'd marry a Ward Must come to me for my accord, And in my court I sit all day, Giving agreeable girls away, With one for him—and one for he— And one for you—and one for ye— And one for thou—and one for thee— But never, oh, never a one for me! Which is exasperating for A highly susceptible Chancellor!

ALL. Which is, etc.

(Enter Lord Tolloller.)

LORD TOLL. And now, my Lords, to the business of the day. LORD CH. By all means. Phyllis, who is a Ward of Court, has so powerfully affected your Lordships, that you have appealed to me in a body to give her to whichever one of you she may think proper to select, and a noble Lord has just gone to her cottage to request her immediate attendance. It would be idle to deny that I, myself, have the misfortune to be singularly attracted by this young person. My regard for her is rapidly undermining my constitution. Three months ago I was a stout man. I need say no more. If I could reconcile it with my duty, I should unhesitatingly award her to myself, for I can conscientiously say that I know no man who is so well fitted to render her exceptionally happy. (Peers: Hear, hear!) But such an award would be open to misconstruction, and therefore, at whatever personal inconvenience, I waive my claim. LORD TOLL. My Lord, I desire, on the part of this House, to express its sincere sympathy with your Lordship's most painful position. LORD CH. I thank your Lordships. The feelings of a Lord Chancellor who is in love with a Ward of Court are not to be envied. What is his position? Can he give his own consent to his own marriage with his own Ward? Can he marry his own Ward without his own consent? And if he marries his own Ward without his own consent, can he commit himself for contempt of his own Court? And if he commit himself for contempt of his own Court, can he appear by counsel before himself, to move for arrest of his own judgement? Ah, my Lords, it is indeed painful to have to sit upon a woolsack which is stuffed with such thorns as these!

(Enter Lord Mountararat.)

LORD MOUNT. My Lord, I have much pleasure in announcing that I have succeeded in inducing the young person to present herself at the Bar of this House.

(Enter Phyllis.)

RECITATIVE—PHYLLIS.

My well-loved Lord and Guardian dear, You summoned me, and I am here!

CHORUS OF PEERS.

Oh, rapture, how beautiful! How gentle—how dutiful!

SOLO—LORD TOLLOLLER.

Of all the young ladies I know This pretty young lady's the fairest; Her lips have the rosiest show, Her eyes are the richest and rarest. Her origin's lowly, it's true, But of birth and position I've plenty; I've grammar and spelling for two, And blood and behaviour for twenty! Her origin's lowly, it's true, I've grammar and spelling for two;

CHORUS. Of birth and position he's plenty, With blood and behaviour for twenty!

SOLO—LORD MOUNTARARAT.

Though the views of the House have diverged On every conceivable motion, All questions of Party are merged In a frenzy of love and devotion; If you ask us distinctly to say What Party we claim to belong to, We reply, without doubt or delay, The Party I'm singing this song to!

SOLO—PHYLLIS.

I'm very much pained to refuse, But I'll stick to my pipes and my tabors; I can spell all the words that I use, And my grammar's as good as my neighbours'. As for birth—I was born like the rest, My behaviour is rustic but hearty, And I know where to turn for the best, When I want a particular Party!

PHYLLIS, LORD TOLL., and LORD MOUNT.

Though her station is none of the best, I suppose she was born like the rest; And she knows where to look for her hearty, When she wants a particular Party!

RECITATIVE—PHYLLIS.

Nay, tempt me not. To rank I'll not be bound; In lowly cot Alone is virtue found!

CHORUS. No, no; indeed high rank will never hurt you, The Peerage is not destitute of virtue.

BALLAD—LORD TOLLOLLER.

Spurn not the nobly born With love affected, Nor treat with virtuous scorn The well-connected. High rank involves no shame— We boast an equal claim With him of humble name To be respected! Blue blood! blue blood! When virtuous love is sought Thy power is naught, Though dating from the Flood, Blue blood! Ah, blue blood!

CHORUS. When virtuous love is sought, etc.

Spare us the bitter pain Of stern denials, Nor with low-born disdain Augment our trials. Hearts just as pure and fair May beat in Belgrave Square As in the lowly air Of Seven Dials! Blue blood! blue blood! Of what avail art thou To serve us now? Though dating from the Flood, Blue blood! Ah, blue blood!

CHORUS. Of what avail art thou, etc.

RECITATIVE—PHYLLIS.

My Lords, it may not be. With grief my heart is riven! You waste your time on me, For ah! my heart is given!

ALL. Given! PHYL. Yes, given! ALL. Oh, horror!!!

RECITATIVE—LORD CHANCELLOR.

And who has dared to brave our high displeasure, And thus defy our definite command?

(Enter Strephon.)

STREPH. 'Tis I—young Strephon! mine this priceless treasure! Against the world I claim my darling's hand!

(Phyllis rushes to his arms.)

A shepherd I— ALL. A shepherd he! STREPH. Of Arcady- ALL. Of Arcadee! STREPH. Betrothed are we! ALL. Betrothed are they— STREPH. And mean to be- ALL. Espoused to-day!

ENSEMBLE.

STREPH. THE OTHERS.

A shepherd I A shepherd he Of Arcady, Of Arcadee, Betrothed are we, Betrothed is he, And mean to be And means to be Espoused to-day! Espoused to-day!

DUET—LORD MOUNTARARAT and LORD TOLLOLLER (aside to each other).

'Neath this blow, Worse than stab of dagger— Though we mo- Mentarily stagger, In each heart Proud are we innately— Let's depart, Dignified and stately!

ALL. Let's depart, Dignified and stately!

CHORUS OF PEERS.

Though our hearts she's badly bruising, In another suitor choosing, Let's pretend it's most amusing. Ha! ha! ha! Tan-ta-ra!

(Exeunt all the Peers, marching round stage with much dignity. Lord Chancellor separates Phyllis from Strephon and orders her off. She follows Peers. Manent Lord Chancellor and Strephon.)

LORD CH. Now, sir, what excuse have you to offer for having disobeyed an order of the Court of Chancery? STREPH. My Lord, I know no Courts of Chancery; I go by Nature's Acts of Parliament. The bees—the breeze—the seas—the rooks—the brooks—the gales—the vales—the fountains and the mountains cry, "You love this maiden—take her, we command you!" 'Tis writ in heaven by the bright barbed dart that leaps forth into lurid light from each grim thundercloud. The very rain pours forth her sad and sodden sympathy! When chorused Nature bids me take my love, shall I reply, "Nay, but a certain Chancellor forbids it"? Sir, you are England's Lord High Chancellor, but are you Chancellor of birds and trees, King of the winds and Prince of thunderclouds? LORD CH. No. It's a nice point. I don't know that I ever met it before. But my difficulty is that at present there's no evidence before the Court that chorused Nature has interested herself in the matter. STREPH. No evidence! You have my word for it. I tell you that she bade me take my love. LORD CH. Ah! but, my good sir, you mustn't tell us what she told you—it's not evidence. Now an affidavit from a thunderstorm, or a few words on oath from a heavy shower, would meet with all the attention they deserve. STREPH. And have you the heart to apply the prosaic rules of evidence to a case which bubbles over with poetical emotion? LORD CH. Distinctly. I have always kept my duty strictly before my eyes, and it is to that fact that I owe my advancement to my present distinguished position.

SONG—LORD CHANCELLOR.

When I went to the Bar as a very young man, (Said I to myself—said I), I'll work on a new and original plan, (Said I to myself—said I), I'll never assume that a rogue or a thief Is a gentleman worthy implicit belief, Because his attorney has sent me a brief, (Said I to myself—said I!).

Ere I go into court I will read my brief through (Said I to myself—said I), And I'll never take work I'm unable to do (Said I to myself-said I), My learned profession I'll never disgrace By taking a fee with a grin on my face, When I haven't been there to attend to the case (Said I to myself—said I!).

I'll never throw dust in a juryman's eyes (Said I to myself—said I), Or hoodwink a judge who is not over-wise (Said I to myself—said I), Or assume that the witnesses summoned in force In Exchequer, Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, or Divorce, Have perjured themselves as a matter of course (Said I to myself—said I!).

In other professions in which men engage (Said I to myself said I), The Army, the Navy, the Church, and the Stage (Said I to myself—said I), Professional licence, if carried too far, Your chance of promotion will certainly mar— And I fancy the rule might apply to the Bar (Said I to myself—said I!).

(Exit Lord Chancellor.)

(Enter Iolanthe)

STREPH. Oh, Phyllis, Phyllis! To be taken from you just as I was on the point of making you my own! Oh, it's too much—it's too much! IOL. (to Strephon, who is in tears). My son in tears—and on his wedding day! STREPH. My wedding day! Oh, mother, weep with me, for the Law has interposed between us, and the Lord Chancellor has separated us for ever! IOL. The Lord Chancellor! (Aside.) Oh, if he did but know! STREPH. (overhearing her). If he did but know what? IOL. No matter! The Lord Chancellor has no power over you. Remember you are half a fairy. You can defy him—down to the waist. STREPH. Yes, but from the waist downwards he can commit me to prison for years! Of what avail is it that my body is free, if my legs are working out seven years' penal servitude? IOL. True. But take heart—our Queen has promised you her special protection. I'll go to her and lay your peculiar case before her. STREPH. My beloved mother! how can I repay the debt I owe you?

FINALE—QUARTET.

(As it commences, the Peers appear at the back, advancing unseen and on tiptoe. Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller lead Phyllis between them, who listens in horror to what she hears.)

STREPH. (to Iolanthe). When darkly looms the day, And all is dull and grey, To chase the gloom away, On thee I'll call!

PHYL. (speaking aside to Lord Mountararat). What was that?

LORD MOUNT. (aside to Phyllis). I think I heard him say, That on a rainy day, To while the time away, On her he'd call!

CHORUS. We think we heard him say, etc.

(Phyllis much agitated at her lover's supposed faithlessness.)

IOL. (to Strephon). When tempests wreck thy bark, And all is drear and dark, If thou shouldst need an Ark, I'll give thee one!

PHYL. (speaking aside to Lord Tolloller). What was that?

LORD TOLL. (aside to Phyllis). I heard the minx remark, She'd meet him after dark, Inside St James's Park, And give him one!

CHORUS. We heard the minx remark, etc.

PHYL. The prospect's very bad. My heart so sore and sad Will never more be glad As summer's sun.

PHYL., IOL., LORD TOLL., STREPH. The prospect's not so bad, My/Thy heart so sore and sad May very soon be glad As summer's sun;

PHYL., IOL., LORD TOLL., STEPH., LORD MOUNT. For when the sky is dark And tempests wreck his/thy/my bark, he should If thou shouldst need an Ark, I should She'll him I'll give thee one! me

PHYL. (revealing herself). Ah!

(Iolanthe and Strephon much confused.)

PHYL. Oh, shameless one, tremble! Nay, do not endeavour Thy fault to dissemble, We part—and for ever! I worshipped him blindly, He worships another—

STREPH. Attend to me kindly, This lady's my mother!

TOLL. This lady's his what? STREPH. This lady's my mother! TENORS. This lady's his what? BASSES. He says she's his mother!

(They point derisively to Iolanthe, laughing heartily at her. She goes for protection to Strephon.)

(Enter Lord Chancellor. Iolanthe veils herself.)

LORD CH. What means this mirth unseemly, That shakes the listening earth?

LORD TOLL. The joke is good extremely, And justifies our mirth.

LORD MOUNT. This gentleman is seen, With a maid of seventeen, A-taking of his dolce far niente; And wonders he'd achieve, For he asks us to believe She's his mother—and he's nearly five-and-twenty!

LORD CH. (sternly). Recollect yourself, I pray, And be careful what you say— As the ancient Romans said, festina lente. For I really do not see How so young a girl could be The mother of a man of five-and-twenty.

ALL. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

STREPH. My Lord, of evidence I have no dearth— She is—has been—my mother from my birth!

BALLAD.

In babyhood Upon her lap I lay, With infant food She moistened my clay; Had she withheld The succour she supplied, By hunger quelled, Your Strephon might have died!

LORD CH. (much moved). Had that refreshment been denied, Indeed our Strephon might have died!

ALL (much affected). Had that refreshment been denied, Indeed our Strephon might have died!

LORD MOUNT. But as she's not His mother, it appears, Why weep these hot Unnecessary tears? And by what laws Should we so joyously Rejoice, because Our Strephon did not die? Oh rather let us pipe our eye Because our Strephon did not die!

ALL. That's very true—let's pipe our eye Because our Strephon did not die!

(All weep. Iolanthe, who has succeeded in hiding her face from Lord Chancellor, escapes unnoticed.)

PHYL. Go, traitorous one—for ever we must part: To one of you, my Lords, I give my heart!

ALL. Oh, rapture!

STREPH. Hear me, Phyllis, ere you leave me.

PHYL. Not a word—you did deceive me.

ALL. Not a word—you did deceive her. (Exit Strephon.)

BALLAD—PHYLLIS.

For riches and rank I do not long— Their pleasures are false and vain; I gave up the love of a lordly throng For the love of a simple swain. But now that simple swain's untrue, With sorrowful heart I turn to you— A heart that's aching, Quaking, breaking, As sorrowful hearts are wont to do!

The riches and rank that you befall Are the only baits you use, So the richest and rankiest of you all My sorrowful heart shall choose. As none are so noble—none so rich As this couple of lords, I'll find a niche In my heart that's aching, Quaking, breaking, For one of you two-and I don't care which!

ENSEMBLE.

PHYL. (to Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller). To you I give my heart so rich! ALL (puzzled). To which? PHYL. I do not care! To you I yield—it is my doom! ALL. To whom? PHYL. I'm not aware! I'm yours for life if you but choose. ALL. She's whose? PHYL. That's your affair! I'll be a countess, shall I not? ALL. Of what? PHYL. I do not care! ALL. Lucky little lady! Strephon's lot is shady; Rank, it seems, is vital, "Countess" is the title, But of what I'm not aware!

(Enter Strephon.)

STREPH. Can I inactive see my fortune fade? No, no!

PEERS. Ho, ho!

STREPH. Mighty protectress, hasten to my aid!

(Enter Fairies, tripping, headed by Celia, Leila, and Fleta, and followed by Queen.)

CHORUS Tripping hither, tripping thither. OF Nobody knows why or whither; FAIRIES Why you want us we don't know, But you've summoned us, and so Enter all the little fairies To their usual tripping measure! To oblige you all our care is— Tell us, pray, what is your pleasure!

STREPH. The lady of my love has caught me talking to another— PEERS. Oh, fie! young Strephon is a rogue! STREPH. I tell her very plainly that the lady is my mother— PEERS. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay! STREPH. She won't believe my statement, and declares we must be parted, Because on a career of double-dealing I have started, Then gives her hand to one of these, and leaves me broken-hearted— PEERS. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay! QUEEN. Ah, cruel ones, to separate two lovers from each other! FAIRIES. Oh, fie! our Strephon's not a rogue! QUEEN. You've done him an injustice, for the lady is his mother! FAIRIES. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay! LORD CH. That fable perhaps may serve his turn as well as any other. (Aside.) I didn't see her face, but if they fondled one another, And she's but seventeen—I don't believe it was his mother! Taradiddle, taradiddle. ALL. Tol lol lay!

LORD TOLL. I have often had a use For a thorough-bred excuse Of a sudden (which is English for "repente"), But of all I ever heard This is much the most absurd, For she's seventeen, and he is five-and-twenty!

ALL. Though she is seventeen, and he is four or five-and-twenty! Oh, fie! our Strephon is a rogue!

LORD MOUNT. Now, listen, pray to me, For this paradox will be Carried, nobody at all contradicente. Her age, upon the date Of his birth, was minus eight, If she's seventeen, and he is five-and-twenty!

PEERS and FAIRIES. If she is seventeen, and he is only five-and-twenty.

ALL. To say she is his mother is an utter bit of folly! Oh, fie! our Strephon is a rogue! Perhaps his brain is addled, and it's very melancholy! Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay! I wouldn't say a word that could be reckoned as injurious, But to find a mother younger than her son is very curious, And that's a kind of mother that is usually spurious. Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!

LORD CH. Go away, madam; I should say, madam, You display, madam, Shocking taste.

It is rude, madam, To intrude, madam, With your brood, madam, Brazen-faced!

You come here, madam, Interfere, madam, With a peer, madam. (I am one.)

You're aware, madam, What you dare, madam, So take care, madam, And begone!

ENSEMBLE

FAIRIES (to QUEEN). PEERS Let us stay, madam; Go away, madam; I should say, madam, I should say, madam, They display, madam, You display, madam, Shocking taste. Shocking taste.

It is rude, madam, It is rude, madam, To allude, madam, To intrude, madam, To your brood, madam, With your brood, madam, Brazen-faced! Brazen-faced!

We don't fear, madam, You come here, madam, Any peer, madam, Interfere, madam, Though, my dear madam, With a peer, madam, This is one. (I am one.)

They will stare, madam, You're aware, madam, When aware, madam, What you dare, madam, What they dare, madam— So take care, madam, What they've done! And begone!

QUEEN. Bearded by these puny mortals! (furious). I will launch from fairy portals All the most terrific thunders In my armoury of wonders!

PHYL. (aside). Should they launch terrific wonders, All would then repent their blunders. Surely these must be immortals. (Exit Phyllis.)

QUEEN. Oh! Chancellor unwary It's highly necessary Your tongue to teach Respectful speech— Your attitude to vary!

Your badinage so airy, Your manner arbitrary, Are out of place When face to face With an influential Fairy.

ALL THE PEERS We never knew (aside). We were talking to An influential Fairy!

LORD CH. A plague on this vagary, I'm in a nice quandary! Of hasty tone With dames unknown I ought to be more chary; It seems that she's a fairy From Andersen's library, And I took her for The proprietor Of a Ladies' Seminary!

PEERS. We took her for The proprietor Of a Ladies' Seminary!

QUEEN. When next your Houses do assemble, You may tremble!

CELIA. Our wrath, when gentlemen offend us, Is tremendous!

LEILA. They meet, who underrate our calling, Doom appalling!

QUEEN. Take down our sentence as we speak it, And he shall wreak it! (Indicating Strephon.) PEERS. Oh, spare us!

QUEEN. Henceforth, Strephon, cast away Crooks and pipes and ribbons so gay— Flocks and herds that bleat and low; Into Parliament you shall go!

ALL. Into Parliament he shall go! Backed by our supreme authority, He'll command a large majority! Into Parliament he shall go!

QUEEN. In the Parliamentary hive, Liberal or Conservative— Whig or Tory—I don't know— But into Parliament you shall go!

ALL. Into Parliament, etc.

QUEEN (speaking through music).

Every bill and every measure That may gratify his pleasure, Though your fury it arouses, Shall be passed by both your Houses!

PEERS. Oh! QUEEN. You shall sit, if he sees reason, Through the grouse and salmon season; PEERS. No! QUEEN. He shall end the cherished rights You enjoy on Friday nights: PEERS. No! QUEEN. He shall prick that annual blister, Marriage with deceased wife's sister: PEERS. Mercy! QUEEN. Titles shall ennoble, then, All the Common Councilmen: PEERS. Spare us! QUEEN. Peers shall teem in Christendom, And a Duke's exalted station Be attainable by Com- Petitive Examination!

PEERS. FAIRIES and PHYLLIS.

Oh, horror! Their horror They can't dissemble Nor hide the fear that makes them tremble!

ENSEMBLE.

PEERS FAIRIES, PHYLLIS, and STREPHON.

Young Strephon is the kind of lout With Strephon for your foe, no doubt, We do not care a fig about! A fearful prospect opens out, We cannot say And who shall say What evils may What evils may Result in consequence. Result in consequence?

But lordly vengeance will pursue A hideous vengeance will pursue All kinds of common people who All noblemen who venture to Oppose our views, Opppose his views, Or boldly choose Or boldly choose To offer us offence. To offer him offence.

He'd better fly at humbler game, 'Twill plunge them into grief and shame; Or our forbearance he must claim, His kind forbearance they must claim, If he'd escape If they'd escape In any shape In any shape A very painful wrench! A very painful wrench.

Your powers we dauntlessly pooh-pooh: Although our threats you now pooh-pooh, A dire revenge will fall on you. A dire revenge will fall on you, If you besiege Should he besiege Our high prestige— Your high prestige— (The word "prestige" is French). The word "prestige" is French).

PEERS. Our lordly style You shall not quench With base canaille! FAIRIES. (That word is French.) PEERS. Distinction ebbs Before a herd Of vulgar plebs! FAIRIES. (A Latin word.) PEERS. 'Twould fill with joy, And madness stark The hoi polloi!

FAIRIES. (A Greek remark.)

PEERS. One Latin word, one Greek remark, And one that's French.

FAIRIES. Your lordly style We'll quickly quench With base canaille! PEERS. (That word is French.) FAIRIES. Distinction ebbs Before a herd Of vulgar plebs! PEERS. (A Latin word.) FAIRIES. 'Twill fill with joy And madness stark The hoi polloi! PEERS. (A Greek remark.)

FAIRIES. One Latin word, one Greek remark, And one that's French.

PEERS. FAIRIES.

You needn't wait: We will not wait: Away you fly! We go sky-high! Your threatened hate Our threatened hate We won't defy! You won't defy!

(Fairies threaten Peers with their wands. Peers kneel as begging for merry. Phyllis implores Strephon to relent. He casts her from him, and she falls fainting into the arms of Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller.)

END OF ACT I



ACT II

Scene.—Palace Yard, Westminster. Westminster Hall, L. Clock tower up, R.C. Private Willis discovered on sentry, R. Moonlight.

SONG—PRIVATE WILLIS.

When all night long a chap remains On sentry-go, to chase monotony He exercises of his brains, That is, assuming that he's got any. Though never nurtured in the lap Of luxury, yet I admonish you, I am an intellectual chap, And think of things that would astonish you. I often think it's comical—Fal, lal, la! How Nature always does contrive—Fal, lal, la! That every boy and every gal That's born into the world alive Is either a little Liberal Or else a little Conservative! Fal, lal, la!

When in that House M.P.'s divide, If they've a brain and cerebellum, too, They've got to leave that brain outside, And vote just as their leaders tell 'em to. But then the prospect of a lot Of dull M. P.'s in close proximity, All thinking for themselves, is what No man can face with equanimity. Then let's rejoice with loud Fal la—Fal la la! That Nature always does contrive—Fal lal la! That every boy and every gal That's born into the world alive Is either a little Liberal Or else a little Conservative! Fal lal la!

(Enter Fairies, with Celia, Leila, and Fleta. They trip round stage.)

CHORUS OF FAIRIES.

Strephon's a Member of Parliament! Carries every Bill he chooses. To his measures all assent— Showing that fairies have their uses. Whigs and Tories Dim their glories, Giving an ear to all his stories— Lords and Commons are both in the blues! Strephon makes them shake in their shoes! Shake in their shoes! Shake in their shoes! Strephon makes them shake in their shoes!

(Enter Peers from Westminster Hall.)

CHORUS OF PEERS.

Strephon's a Member of Parliament! Running a-muck of all abuses. His unqualified assent Somehow nobody now refuses. Whigs and Tories Dim their glories, Giving an ear to all his stories Carrying every Bill he may wish: Here's a pretty kettle of fish! Kettle of fish! Kettle of fish! Here's a pretty kettle of fish!

(Enter Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller from Westminster Hall.)

CELIA. You seem annoyed. LORD MOUNT. Annoyed! I should think so! Why, this ridiculous protege of yours is playing the deuce with everything! To-night is the second reading of his Bill to throw the Peerage open to Competitive Examination! LORD TOLL. And he'll carry it, too! LORD MOUNT. Carry it? Of course he will! He's a Parliamentary Pickford—he carries everything! LEILA. Yes. If you please, that's our fault! LORD MOUNT. The deuce it is! CELIA. Yes; we influence the members, and compel them to vote just as he wishes them to. LEILA. It's our system. It shortens the debates. LORD TOLL. Well, but think what it all means. I don't so much mind for myself, but with a House of Peers with no grandfathers worth mentioning, the country must go to the dogs! LEILA. I suppose it must! LORD MOUNT. I don't want to say a word against brains—I've a great respect for brains—I often wish I had some myself—but with a House of Peers composed exclusively of people of intellect, what's to become of the House of Commons? LEILA. I never thought of that! LORD MOUNT. This comes of women interfering in politics. It so happens that if there is an institution in Great Britain which is not susceptible of any improvement at all, it is the House of Peers!

SONG—LORD MOUNTARARAT.

When Britain really ruled the waves— (In good Queen Bess's time) The House of Peers made no pretence To intellectual eminence, Or scholarship sublime; Yet Britain won her proudest bays In good Queen Bess's glorious days!

CHORUS. Yes, Britain won, etc.

When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte, As every child can tell, The House of Peers, throughout the war, Did nothing in particular, And did it very well: Yet Britain set the world ablaze In good King George's glorious days!

CHORUS. Yes, Britain set, etc.

And while the House of Peers withholds Its legislative hand, And noble statesmen do not itch To interfere with matters which They do not understand, As bright will shine Great Britain's rays As in King George's glorious days!

CHORUS. As bright will shine, etc.

LEILA. (who has been much attracted by the Peers during this song). Charming persons, are they not? CELIA. Distinctly. For self-contained dignity, combined with airy condescension, give me a British Representative Peer! LORD TOLL. Then pray stop this protege of yours before it's too late. Think of the mischief you're doing! LEILA (crying). But we can't stop him now. (Aside to Celia.) Aren't they lovely! (Aloud.) Oh, why did you go and defy us, you great geese!

DUET—LEILA and CELIA.

LEILA. In vain to us you plead— Don't go! Your prayers we do not heed— Don't go! It's true we sigh, But don't suppose A tearful eye Forgiveness shows. Oh, no! We're very cross indeed— Yes, very cross, Don't go!

FAIRIES. It's true we sigh, etc.

CELIA. Your disrespectful sneers— Don't go! Call forth indignant tears— Don't go! You break our laws— You are our foe: We cry because We hate you so! You know! You very wicked Peers! You wicked Peers! Don't go!

FAIRIES. LORDS MOUNT. and TOLL.

You break our laws— Our disrespectful sneers, You are our foe: Ha, ha! We cry because Call forth indignant tears, We hate you so! Ha, ha! You know! If that's the case, my dears— You very wicked Peers! FAIRIES. Don't go! Don't go! PEERS. We'll go!

(Exeunt Lord Mountararat, Lord Tolloller, and Peers. Fairies gaze wistfully after them.)

(Enter Fairy Queen.)

QUEEN. Oh, shame—shame upon you! Is this your fidelity to the laws you are bound to obey? Know ye not that it is death to marry a mortal? LEILA. Yes, but it's not death to wish to marry a mortal! FLETA. If it were, you'd have to execute us all! QUEEN. Oh, this is weakness! Subdue it! CELIA. We know it's weakness, but the weakness is so strong! LEILA. We are not all as tough as you are! QUEEN. Tough! Do you suppose that I am insensible to the effect of manly beauty? Look at that man! (Referring to Sentry.) A perfect picture! (To Sentry.) Who are you, sir? WILLIS (coming to "attention"). Private Willis, B Company, 1st Grenadier Guards. QUEEN. You're a very fine fellow, sir. WILLIS. I am generally admired. QUEEN. I can quite understand it. (To Fairies.) Now here is a man whose physical attributes are simply godlike. That man has a most extraordinary effect upon me. If I yielded to a natural impulse, I should fall down and worship that man. But I mortify this inclination; I wrestle with it, and it lies beneath my feet! That is how I treat my regard for that man!

SONG—FAIRY QUEEN.

Oh, foolish fay, Think you, because His brave array My bosom thaws, I'd disobey Our fairy laws? Because I fly In realms above, In tendency To fall in love, Resemble I The amorous dove? (Aside.) Oh, amorous dove! Type of Ovidius Naso! This heart of mine Is soft as thine, Although I dare not say so!

CHORUS. Oh, amorous dove, etc.

On fire that glows With heat intense I turn the hose Of common sense, And out it goes At small expense! We must maintain Our fairy law; That is the main On which to draw— In that we gain A Captain Shaw! (Aside.) Oh, Captain Shaw! Type of true love kept under! Could thy Brigade With cold cascade Quench my great love, I wonder!

CHORUS. Oh, Captain Shaw! etc.

(Exeunt Fairies and Fairy Queen, sorrowfully.)

(Enter Phyllis.)

PHYL. (half crying). I can't think why I'm not in better spirits. I'm engaged to two noblemen at once. That ought to be enough to make any girl happy. But I'm miserable! Don't suppose it's because I care for Strephon, for I hate him! No girl could care for a man who goes about with a mother considerably younger than himself!

(Enter Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller.)

LORD MOUNT. Phyllis! My darling! LORD TOLL. Phyllis! My own! PHYL. Don't! How dare you? Oh, but perhaps you're the two noblemen I'm engaged to? LORD MOUNT. I am one of them. LORD TOLL. I am the other. PHYL. Oh, then, my darling! (to Lord Mountararat). My own! (to Lord Tolloller). Well, have you settled which it's to be? LORD TOLL. Not altogether. It's a difficult position. It would be hardly delicate to toss up. On the whole we would rather leave it to you. PHYL. How can it possibly concern me? You are both EarIs, and you are both rich, and you are both plain. LORD MOUNT. So we are. At least I am. LORD TOLL. So am I. LORD MOUNT. No, no! LORD TOLL. I am indeed. Very plain. LORD MOUNT. Well, well—perhaps you are. PHYL. There's really nothing to choose between you. If one of you would forgo his title, and distribute his estates among his Irish tenantry, why, then, I should then see a reason for accepting the other. LORD MOUNT. Tolloller, are you prepared to make this sacrifice? LORD TOLL. No! LORD MOUNT. Not even to oblige a lady? LORD TOLL. No! not even to oblige a lady. LORD MOUNT. Then, the only question is, which of us shall give way to the other? Perhaps, on the whole, she would be happier with me. I don't know. I may be wrong. LORD TOLL. No. I don't know that you are. I really believe she would. But the awkward part of the thing is that if you rob me of the girl of my heart, we must fight, and one of us must die. It's a family tradition that I have sworn to respect. It's a painful position, for I have a very strong regard for you, George. LORD MOUNT. (much affected). My dear Thomas! LORD TOLL. You are very dear to me, George. We were boys together—at least I was. If I were to survive you, my existence would be hopelessly embittered. LORD MOUNT. Then, my dear Thomas, you must not do it. I say it again and again—if it will have this effect upon you, you must not do it. No, no. If one of us is to destroy the other, let it be me! LORD TOLL. No, no! LORD MOUNT. Ah, yes!—by our boyish friendship I implore you! LORD TOLL. (much moved). Well, well, be it so. But, no—no!—I cannot consent to an act which would crush you with unavaillng remorse. LORD MOUNT. But it would not do so. I should be very sad at first—oh, who would not be?—but it would wear off. I like you very much—but not, perhaps, as much as you like me. LORD TOLL. George, you're a noble fellow, but that tell-tale tear betrays you. No, George; you are very fond of me, and I cannot consent to give you a week's uneasiness on my account. LORD MOUNT. But, dear Thomas, it would not last a week! Remember, you lead the House of Lords! On your demise I shall take your place! Oh, Thomas, it would not last a day! PHYL. (coming down). Now, I do hope you're not going to fight about me, because it's really not worth while. LORD TOLL. (looking at her). Well, I don't believe it is! LORD MOUNT. Nor I. The sacred ties of Friendship are paramount.

QUARTET—LORD MOUNTARARAT, LORD TOLLOLLER, PHYLLIS, and PRIVATE WILLIS.

LORD TOLL. Though p'r'aps I may incur your blame, The things are few I would not do In Friendship's name!

LORD MOUNT. And I may say I think the same; Not even love Should rank above True Friendship's name!

PHYL. Then free me, pray; be mine the blame; Forget your craze And go your ways In Friendship's name!

ALL. Oh, many a man, in Friendship's name, Has yielded fortune, rank, and fame! But no one yet, in the world so wide, Has yielded up a promised bride!

WILLIS. Accept, O Friendship, all the same,

ALL. This sacrifice to thy dear name!

(Exeunt Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller, lovingly, in one direction, and Phyllis in another. Exit Sentry.)

(Enter Lord Chancellor, very miserable.)

RECITATIVE—LORD CHANCELLOR.

Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest: Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers: Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest, And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!

SONG—LORD CHANCELLOR.

When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is taboo'd by anxiety, I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in, without impropriety; For your brain is on fire—the bedclothes conspire of usual slumber to plunder you: First your counterpane goes, and uncovers your toes, and your sheet slips demurely from under you; Then the blanketing tickles—you feel like mixed pickles—so terribly sharp is the pricking, And you're hot, and you're cross, and you tumble and toss till there's nothing 'twixt you and the ticking. Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick 'em all up in a tangle; Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its usual angle! Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eye-balls and head ever aching. But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams that you'd very much better be waking; For you dream you are crossing the Channel, and tossing about in a steamer from Harwich— Which is something between a large bathing machine and a very small second-class carriage— And you're giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to a party of friends and relations— They're a ravenous horde—and they all came on board at Sloane Square and South Kensington Stations. And bound on that journey you find your attorney (who started that morning from Devon); He's a bit undersized, and you don't feel surprised when he tells you he's only eleven. Well, you're driving like mad with this singular lad (by the by, the ship's now a four-wheeler), And you're playing round games, and he calls you bad names when you tell him that "ties pay the dealer"; But this you can't stand, so you throw up your hand, and you find you're as cold as an icicle, In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold clocks), crossing Salisbury Plain on a bicycle: And he and the crew are on bicycles too—which they've somehow or other invested in— And he's telling the tars all the particulars of a company he's interested in— It's a scheme of devices, to get at low prices all goods from cough mixtures to cables (Which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers as though they were all vegetables— You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman (first take off his boots with a boot-tree), And his legs will take root, and his fingers will shoot, and they'll blossom and bud like a fruit-tree— From the greengrocer tree you get grapes and green pea, cauliflower, pineapple, and cranberries, While the pastrycook plant cherry brandy will grant, apple puffs, and three corners, and Banburys— The shares are a penny, and ever so many are taken by Rothschild and Baring, And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake with a shudder despairing— You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and no wonder you snore, for your head's on the floor, and you've needles and pins from your soles to your shins, and your flesh is a-creep, for your left leg's asleep, and you've cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose, and some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue, and a thirst that's intense, and a general sense that you haven't been sleeping in clover; But the darkness has passed, and it's daylight at last, and the night has been long—ditto ditto my song—and thank goodness they're both of them over!

(Lord Chancellor falls exhausted on a seat.)

(Enter Lords Mountararat and Tolloller.)

LORD MOUNT. I am much distressed to see your Lordship in this condition. LORD CH. Ah, my Lords, it is seldom that a Lord Chancellor has reason to envy the position of another, but I am free to confess that I would rather be two Earls engaged to Phyllis than any other half-dozen noblemen upon the face of the globe. LORD TOLL. (without enthusiasm). Yes. It's an enviable position when you're the only one. LORD MOUNT. Oh yes, no doubt—most enviable. At the same time, seeing you thus, we naturally say to ourselves, "This is very sad. His Lordship is constitutionally as blithe as a bird—he trills upon the bench like a thing of song and gladness. His series of judgements in F sharp minor, given andante in six-eight time, are among the most remarkable effects ever produced in a Court of Chancery. He is, perhaps, the only living instance of a judge whose decrees have received the honour of a double encore. How can we bring ourselves to do that which will deprive the Court of Chancery of one of its most attractive features?" LORD CH. I feel the force of your remarks, but I am here in two capacities, and they clash, my Lords, they clash! I deeply grieve to say that in declining to entertain my last application to myself, I presumed to address myself in terms which render it impossible for me ever to apply to myself again. It was a most painful scene, my Lords—most painful! LORD TOLL. This is what it is to have two capacities! Let us be thankful that we are persons of no capacity whatever. LORD MOUNT. Come, come. Remember you are a very just and kindly old gentleman, and you need have no hesitation in approaching yourself, so that you do so respectfully and with a proper show of deference. LORD CH. Do you really think so? LORD MOUNT. I do. LORD CH. Well, I will nerve myself to another effort, and, if that fails, I resign myself to my fate!

TRIO—LORD CHANCELLOR, LORDS MOUNTARARAT and TOLLOLLER.

LORD MOUNT. If you go in You're sure to win— Yours will be the charming maidie: Be your law The ancient saw, "Faint heart never won fair lady!"

ALL. Never, never, never, Faint heart never won fair lady! Every journey has an end— When at the worst affairs will mend— Dark the dawn when day is nigh— Hustle your horse and don't say die!

LORD TOLL. He who shies At such a prize Is not worth a maravedi, Be so kind To bear in mind— Faint heart never won fair lady!

ALL. Never, never, never, Faint heart never won fair lady! While the sun shines make your hay— Where a will is, there's a way— Beard the lion in his lair— None but the brave deserve the fair!