CURTAIN



THE SORCERER

Libretto by William S. Gilbert Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre, an Elderly Baronet

Alexis, of the Grenadier Guards—His Son

Dr. Daly, Vicar of Ploverleigh

John Wellington Wells, of J. W. Wells & Co., Family Sorcerers

Lady Sangazure, a Lady of Ancient Lineage

Aline, Her Daughter—betrothed to Alexis

Mrs. Partlet, a Pew-Opener

Constance, her Daughter

Chorus of Villagers

ACT I—Grounds of Sir Marmaduke's Mansion, Mid-day

(Twelve hours are supposed to elapse between Acts I and II)

ACT II— Grounds of Sir Marmaduke's Mansion, Midnight



ACT I.

SCENE—Exterior of Sir Marmaduke's Elizabethan Mansion, mid-day.

CHORUS OF VILLAGERS

Ring forth, ye bells, With clarion sound— Forget your knells, For joys abound. Forget your notes Of mournful lay, And from your throats Pour joy to-day.

For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis Pointdextre Is betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure, And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!

Ring forth, ye bells etc. (Exeunt the men into house.)

(Enter Mrs. Partlet with Constance, her daughter)

RECITATIVE

MRS. P. Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression? The village rings with seasonable joy, Because the young and amiable Alexis, Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre, Is plighted to Aline, the only daughter Of Annabella, Lady Sangazure. You, you alone are sad and out of spirits; What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!

CON. Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexion From red to white should change in quick succession, And then from white to red, oh, take no notice! If my poor limbs should tremble with emotion, Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing! If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter, Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne'er be known!

Mrs. Partlet motions to Chorus to leave her with Constance. Exeunt ladies of Chorus.

ARIA—CONSTANCE

When he is here, I sigh with pleasure— When he is gone, I sigh with grief. My hopeless fear No soul can measure— His love alone Can give my aching heart relief!

When he is cold, I weep for sorrow— When he is kind, I weep for joy. My grief untold Knows no to-morrow— My woe can find No hope, no solace, no alloy!

MRS. P. Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear— I, too, have loved; but that was long ago! Who is the object of your young affections? CONST. Hush, mother! He is here! (Looking off)

Enter Dr. Daly. He is pensive and does not see them

MRS. P. (amazed) Our reverend vicar! CONST. Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken! MRS. P. My child, be comforted. To such an union I shall not offer any opposition. Take him—he's yours! May you and he be happy! CONST. But, mother dear, he is not yours to give! MRS. P. That's true, indeed! CONST. He might object! MRS. P. He might. But come—take heart—I'll probe him on the subject. Be comforted—leave this affair to me. (They withdraw.)

RECITATIVE—DR. DALY

The air is charged with amatory numbers— Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays. Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers The aching memory of the old, old days?

BALLAD

Time was when Love and I were well acquainted. Time was when we walked ever hand in hand. A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted, None better-loved than I in all the land! Time was, when maidens of the noblest station, Forsaking even military men, Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration— Ah me, I was a fair young curate then!

Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled; Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear; Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled; And when I coughed all thought the end was near! I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o'er me— For I was loved beyond all other men. Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me— Ah me, I was a pale young curate them!

(At the conclusion of the ballad, Mrs. Partlet comes forward with Constance.)

MRS. P. Good day, reverend sir. DR. D. Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little woman, I declare! CONST. (aside) Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him! MRS. P. Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as good a girl as ever stepped. (Aside to Dr. Daly) Ah, sir, I'm afraid I shall soon lose her! DR. D. (aside to Mrs. Partlet) Dear me, you pain me very much. Is she delicate? MRS. P. Oh no, sir—I don't mean that—but young girls look to get married. DR. D. Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there's plenty of time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or five years hence. But when the time does come, I shall have much pleasure in marrying her myself— CONST. (aside) Oh, mother! DR. D. To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of life. CONST. (in tears) He does not love me! MRS. P. I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you'll excuse the liberty), that you have never married. DR. D. (aside) Be still, my fluttering heart! MRS. P. A clergyman's wife does so much good in a village. besides that, you are not as young as you were, and before very long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your little comforts. DR. D. Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say. I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my declining days. Time was when it might have been; but I have left it too long—I am an old fogy, now, am I not, my dear? (to Constance)—a very old fogy, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet, my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary old bachelor. CONST. Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs on Mrs. Partlet's bosom) MRS. P. Come, come, dear one, don't fret. At a more fitting time we will try again—we will try again. (Exeunt Mrs. Partlet and Constance.)

DR. D. (looking after them) Poor little girl! I'm afraid she has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was when this old heart would have throbbed in double-time at the sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here comes the young Alexis with his proud and happy father. Let me dry this tell-tale tear!

Enter Sir Marmaduke and Alexis

RECITATIVE

DR. D. Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis— On this most happy, most auspicious plighting— Permit me as a true old friend to tender My best, my very best congratulations! SIR M. Sir, you are most obleeging! ALEX. Dr. Daly My dear old tutor, and my valued pastor, I thank you from the bottom of my heart! (Spoken through music) DR. D. May fortune bless you! may the middle distance Of your young life be pleasant as the foreground— The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it, May that which now is the far-off horizon (But which will then become the middle distance), In fruitful promise be exceeded only By that which will have opened, in the meantime, Into a new and glorious horizon! SIR M. Dear Sir, that is an excellent example Of an old school of stately compliment To which I have, through life, been much addicted. Will you obleege me with a copy of it, In clerkly manuscript, that I myself May use it on appropriate occasions? DR. D. Sir, you shall have a fairly-written copy Ere Sol has sunk into his western slumbers! (Exit Dr. Daly)

SIR M. (to Alexis, who is in a reverie) Come, come, my son—your fiancee will be here in five minutes. Rouse yourself to receive her. ALEXIS Oh rapture! SIR M. Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will not disguise from you that this union with the House of Sangazure realizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of a sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and thirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, there was a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair with Paris—but where is the family, other than my own, in which there is no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow! ALEXIS Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love, upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity! SIR M. Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young lady you do not speak so openly. You are always singing ballads in praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate. ALEXIS Father, a man who loves as I love— SIR M. Pooh pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason to believe that she returned my love. But were we guilty of the indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other's arms, exclaiming—

"Oh, my adored one!" "Beloved boy!" "Ecstatic rapture!" "Unmingled joy!"

which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making? No! it was "Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good health"—"Sir, you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty well"—and so forth. Much more delicate—much more respectful. But see—Aline approaches—let us retire, that she may compose herself for the interesting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part. (Exeunt Sir Marmaduke and Alexis.)

(Enter Aline on terrace, preceded by Chorus of Girls.)

CHORUS OF GIRLS

With heart and with voice Let us welcome this mating: To the youth of her choice, With a heart palpitating, Comes the lovely Aline!

May their love never cloy! May their bliss me unbounded! With a halo of joy May their lives be surrounded! Heaven bless our Aline!

RECITATIVE—ALINE.

My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting And as you wish me every earthly joy, I trust your wishes may have quick fulfillment!

ARIA—ALINE.

Oh, happy young heart! Comes thy young lord a-wooing With joy in his eyes, And pride in his breast— Make much of thy prize, For he is the best That ever came a-suing. Yet—yet we must part, Young heart! Yet—yet we must part!

Oh, merry young heart, Bright are the days of thy wooing! But happier far The days untried— No sorrow can mar, When love has tied The knot there's no undoing. Then, never to part, Young heart! Then, never to part!

Enter Lady Sangazure

RECITATIVE—LADY S.

My child, I join in these congratulations: Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye! Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow, 'Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!

Enter Alexis, preceded by Chorus of Men

CHORUS OF MEN AND WOMEN

With heart and with voice Let us welcome this mating; To the maid of his choice, With a heart palpitating, Comes Alexis, the brave!.

(Sir Marmaduke enters. Lady Sangazure and he exhibit signs of strong emotion at the sight of each other which they endeavor to repress. Alexis and Aline rush into each other's arms.)

RECITATIVE

ALEXIS Oh, my adored one!

ALINE Beloved boy!

ALEXIS Ecstatic rapture!

ALINE Unmingled joy! (They retire up.)

DUET—SIR MARMADUKE and LADY SANGAZURE

SIR M. (with stately courtesy) Welcome joy, adieu to sadness! As Aurora gilds the day, So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness, Chase the clouds of care away. Irresistible incentive Bids me humbly kiss your hand; I'm your service most attentive— Most attentive to command!

(Aside with frantic vehemence) Wild with adoration! Mad with fascination! To indulge my lamentation No occasion do I miss! Goaded to distraction By maddening inaction, I find some satisfaction In apostophe like this: "Sangazure immortal, "Sangazure divine, "Welcome to my portal, "Angel, oh be mine!"

(Aloud with much ceremony) Irresistible incentive Bids me humbly kiss your hand; I'm your servant most attentive— Most attentive to command!

LADY S. Sir, I thank you most politely For your grateful courtesee; Compliment more true and knightly Never yet was paid to me! Chivalry is an ingredient Sadly lacking in our land— Sir, I am your most obedient, Most obedient to command!

(Aside and with great vehemence) Wild with adoration! Mad with fascination! To indulge my lamentation No occasion do I miss! Goaded to distraction By maddening inaction, I find some satisfaction In apostophe like this: "Marmaduke immortal, "Marmaduke divine, "Take me to thy portal, "Loved one, oh be mine!"

(Aloud with much ceremony) Chivalry is an ingredient Sadly lacking in our land; Sir, I am your most obedient, Most obedient to command!

(During this the Notary has entered, with marriage contract.)

RECITATIVE—NOTARY

All is prepared for sealing and for signing, The contract has been drafted as agreed; Approach the table, oh, ye lovers pining, With hand and seal come execute the deed!

(Alexis and Aline advance and sign, Alexis supported by Sir Marmaduke, Aline by her Mother.)

CHORUS

See they sign, without a quiver, it— Then to seal proceed. They deliver it—they deliver it As their Act and Deed! ALEX. I deliver it—I deliver it As my Act and Deed!. ALINE. I deliver it—I deliver it. As my Act and Deed!

CHO. With heart and with voice Let us welcome this mating; Leave them here to rejoice, With true love palpitating, Alexis the brave, And the lovely Aline! (Exeunt all but Alexis and Aline.)

ALEXIS At last we are alone! My darling, you are now irrevocably betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy? ALINE Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love you beyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not true love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of every earthly joy? ALEXIS Of that there can be no doubt. Oh, that the world could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh, that the world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth, education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the panacea for every ill! ALINE Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness! ALEXIS I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but slowly. Still I have made some converts to the principle, that men and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction of rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics' Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my views. I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and Lunatic Asylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm. I have addressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if they married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented! ALINE Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold that the uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what do the countesses say? ALEXIS Why, at present, it can't be denied, the aristocracy hold aloof. ALINE Ah, the working man is the true Intelligence after all! ALEXIS He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes, Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should be independent of external influences. It should live upon itself and by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!

BALLAD—ALEXIS

Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know, Some love for rank, some for duty: Some give their hearts away for empty show, And others for youth and beauty. To love for money all the world is prone: Some love themselves, and live all lonely: Give me the love that loves for love alone— I love that love—I love it only!

What man for any other joy can thirst, Whose loving wife adores him duly? Want, misery, and care may do their worst, If loving woman loves you truly. A lover's thoughts are ever with his own— None truly loved is ever lonely: Give me the love that loves for love alone— I love that love—I love it only!

ALINE Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles! ALEXIS Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step in support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W. Wells & Co., the old-established Family Sorcerers in St. Mary Axe? ALINE I have seen their advertisement. ALEXIS They have invented a philtre, which, if report may be believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute it through the village, and within half an hour of my doing so there will not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the secret of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that? ALINE Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing in a house; but still I don't quite see that it is the sort of thing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly joy. ALEXIS Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn't say a filter—I said a philtre. ALINE (alarmed) You don't mean a love-potion? ALEXIS On the contrary—I do mean a love potion. ALINE Oh, Alexis! I don't think it would be right. I don't indeed. And then—a real magician! Oh, it would be downright wicked. ALEXIS Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to steep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple them in matrimony without distinction of age, rank, or fortune? ALINE Unquestionably, but— ALEXIS Then unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in deference to the great and good end I have in view. (Calling) Hercules.

(Enter a Page from tent)

PAGE Yes, sir. ALEXIS Is Mr. Wells there? PAGE He's in the tent, sir—refreshing. ALEXIS Ask him to be so good as to step this way. PAGE Yes, sir. (Exit Page) ALINE Oh, but, Alexis! A real Sorcerer! Oh, I shall be frightened to death! ALEXIS I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the strong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her. ALINE It's nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me with your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turn round. ALEXIS He could change you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but it is most unlikely that he would take such a liberty. It's a most respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of so untradesmanlike an act.

(Enter Mr. Wells from tent)

WELLS Good day, sir. (Aline much terrified.) ALEXIS Good day—I believe you are a Sorcerer. WELLS Yes, sir, we practice Necromancy in all its branches. We've a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods, amulets, charms, and counter-charms. We can cast you a nativity at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three-and-six that we can guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent Hag who comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, are strongly recommended. Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and our Prophetic Tablets, foretelling everything—from a change of Ministry down to a rise in Unified—are much enquired for. Our penny Curse—one of the cheapest things in the trade—is considered infallible. We have some very superior Blessings, too, but they're very little asked for. We've only sold one since Christmas—to a gentleman who bought it to send to his mother-in-law—but it turned out that he was afflicted in the head, and it's been returned on our hands. But our sale of penny Curses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can't turn 'em out fast enough.

SONG—MR. WELLS

Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells, I'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses And ever-filled purses, In prophecies, witches, and knells. If you want a proud foe to "make tracks"— If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax— You've but to look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

We've a first-class assortment of magic; And for raising a posthumous shade With effects that are comic or tragic, There's no cheaper house in the trade. Love-philtre—we've quantities of it; And for knowledge if any one burns, We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet Who brings us unbounded returns:

For he can prophesy With a wink of his eye, Peep with security Into futurity, Sum up your history, Clear up a mystery, Humour proclivity For a nativity—for a nativity; With mirrors so magical, Tetrapods tragical, Bogies spectacular, Answers oracular, Facts astronomical, Solemn or comical, And, if you want it, he Makes a reduction on taking a quantity! Oh!

If any one anything lacks, He'll find it all ready in stacks, If he'll only look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

He can raise you hosts Of ghosts, And that without reflectors; And creepy things With wings, And gaunt and grisly spectres. He can fill you crowds Of shrouds, And horrify you vastly; He can rack your brains With chains, And gibberings grim and ghastly.

And then, if you plan it, he Changes organity, With an urbanity, Full of Satanity, Vexes humanity With an inanity Fatal to vanity— Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!

Barring tautology, In demonology, 'Lectro-biology, Mystic nosology, Spirit philology, High-class astrology, Such is his knowledge, he Isn't the man to require an apology!

Oh! My name is John Wellington Wells, I'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses And ever-filled purses, In prophecies, witches, and knells.

If any one anything lacks, He'll find it all ready in stacks, If he'll only look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

ALEXIS I have sent for you to consult you on a very important matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen Love-at-first-sight Philtre? WELLS Sir, it is our leading article. (Producing a phial.) ALEXIS Now I want to know if you can confidently guarantee it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your advertisement? WELLS Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods. Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection, and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully realized. (Hurt) ALINE (aside) Oh, Alexis, don't offend him! He'll change us into something dreadful—I know he will! ALEXIS I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this village. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you sell it? WELLS In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to want it. We have it in four-and-a-half and nine gallon casks—also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct 10 per cent from prompt cash. ALEXIS I should mention that I am a Member of the Army and

Navy Stores. WELLS In that case we deduct 25 percent. ALEXIS Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a few minutes. Go and fetch the tea-pot. ALINE But, Alexis— ALEXIS My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go and fetch the teapot. ALINE (going) I'm sure Dr. Daly would disapprove of it!

(Exit Aline.) ALEXIS And how soon does it take effect? WELLS In twelve hours. Whoever drinks of it loses consciousness for that period, and on waking falls in love, as a matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also tasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial will prove the fact. Enter Aline with large tea-pot

ALEXIS Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you will at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will suffice to affect the whole village. ALINE But bless me, Alexis, many of the villages are married people! WELLS Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest principles. On married people it has no effect whatever. But are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you through the fearful ordeal? ALEXIS In the good cause I fear nothing. WELLS Very good, then, we will proceed at once to the Incantation. The stage grows dark.

INCANTATION

WELLS. Sprites of earth and air— Fiends of flame and fire— Demon souls, Come here in shoals, This dreaded deed inspire! Appear, appear, appear.

MALE VOICES. Good master, we are here!

WELLS. Noisome hags of night— Imps of deadly shade— Pallid ghosts, Arise in hosts, And lend me all your aid. Appear, appear, appear!

FEMALE VOICES. Good master, we are here!

ALEXIS. (aside) Hark, they assemble, These fiends of the night! ALINE. (aside) Oh Alexis, I tremble, Seek safety in flight!

ARIA - ALINE

Let us fly to a far-off land, Where peace and plenty dwell— Where the sigh of the silver strand Is echoed in every shell To the joy that land will give, On the wings of Love we'll fly; In innocence, there to live— In innocence there to die!

CHORUS OF SPIRITS.

Too late—too late It may not be! That happy fate Is not for (me/thee)!

ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. W.

Too late—too late, That may not be! That happy fate, Is not for thee!

MR. WELLS

Now shrivelled hags, with poison bags, Discharge your loathsome loads! Spit flame and fire, unholy choir! Belch forth your venom, toads! Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell, Shed curses far afield— Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight In noisome plenty yield!

WELLS (pouring phial into tea-pot—flash) Number One! CHORUS It is done! WELLS (same business) Number Two! (flash) CHORUS One too few! WELLS Number Three! (flash) CHORUS Set us free! Set us free-our work is done Ha! ha! ha! Set us free—our course is run! Ha! ha! ha!

ALINE AND ALEXIS (aside)

Let us fly to a far-off land, Where peace and plenty dwell— Where the sigh of the silver strand Is echoed in every shell.

CHORUS OF FIENDS.

Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

(Stage grows light. Mr. Wells beckons villagers. Enter villagers and all the dramatis personae, dancing joyously. Mrs. Partlet and Mr. Wells then distribute tea-cups.)

CHORUS.

Now to the banquet we press; Now for the eggs, the ham; Now for the mustard and cress, Now for the strawberry jam!

Now for the tea of our host, Now for the rollicking bun, Now for the muffin and toast, Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

WOMEN. The eggs and the ham, and the strawberry jam!

MEN. The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn! The rollicking, rollicking bun!

RECITATIVE—SIR MARMADUKE

Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye; Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray! Eat, aye, and drink—be merry, I implore ye, For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.

TEA-CUP BRINDISI

Eat, drink, and be gay, Banish all worry and sorrow, Laugh gaily to-day, Weep, if you're sorry, to-morrow! Come, pass the cup around— I will go bail for the liquor; It's strong, I'll be bound, For it was brewed by the vicar!

CHORUS.

None so knowing as he At brewing a jorum of tea, Ha! ha! A pretty stiff jorum of tea.

TRIO—WELLS, ALINE, and ALEXIS. (aside)

See—see—they drink— All thoughts unheeding, The tea-cups clink, They are exceeding! Their hearts will melt In half-an-hour— Then will be felt The potions power!

(During this verse Constance has brought a small tea-pot, kettle, caddy, and cosy to Dr. Daly. He makes tea scientifically.)

BRINDISI, 2nd Verse—DR. DALY (with the tea-pot)

Pain, trouble, and care, Misery, heart-ache, and worry, Quick, out of your lair! Get you gone in a hurry! Toil, sorrow, and plot, Fly away quicker and quicker— Three spoons in the pot— That is the brew of your vicar!

CHORUS

None so cunning as he At brewing a jorum of tea, Ha! ha! A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

ENSEMBLE—ALEXIS and ALINE (aside)

Oh love, true love—unworldly, abiding! Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy,— Oh love, true love—divinely confiding, Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy,— Oh love, true love, rich harvest of gladness, Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss,— Oh love, true love, look down on our sadness — Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this!

(It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that the charm is working. All rub their eyes, and stagger about the stage as if under the influence of a narcotic.)

TUTTI (aside) ALEXIS, MR. WELLS and ALINE

Oh, marvellous illusion! A marvellous illusion! Oh, terrible surprise! A terrible surprise What is this strange confusion Excites a strange confusion That veils my aching eyes? Within their aching eyes— I must regain my senses, They must regain their senses, Restoring Reason's law, Restoring Reason's law, Or fearful inferences Or fearful inferences Society will draw! Society will draw!

(Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle in vain against its effects, and, at the end of the chorus, fall insensible on the stage.)

END OF ACT I



ACT II

Scene—Exterior of Sir Marmaduke's mansion by moonlight. All the peasantry are discovered asleep on the ground, as at the end of Act I.

Enter Mr. Wells, on tiptoe, followed by Alexis and Aline. Mr. Wells carries a dark lantern.

TRIO—ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. WELLS

'Tis twelve, I think, And at this mystic hour The magic drink Should manifest its power. Oh, slumbering forms, How little ye have guessed That fire that warms Each apathetic breast!

ALEX. But stay, my father is not here!

ALINE. And pray where is my mother dear?

MR. WELLS. I did not think it meet to see A dame of lengthy pedigree, A Baronet and K.C.B. A Doctor of Divinity, And that respectable Q.C., All fast asleep, al-fresco-ly, And so I had them taken home And put to bed respectably! I trust my conduct meets your approbation.

ALEX. Sir, you have acted with discrimination, And shown more delicate appreciation Than we expect of persons of your station.

MR. WELLS. But stay—they waken one by one — The spell has worked—the deed is done! I would suggest that we retire While Love, the Housemaid, lights her kitchen fire!

(Exeunt Mr. Wells, Alexis and Aline, on tiptoe, as the villagers stretch their arms, yawn, rub their eyes, and sit up.)

MEN. Why, where be oi, and what be oi a doin', A sleepin' out, just when the dews du rise? GIRLS. Why, that's the very way your health to ruin, And don't seem quite respectable likewise! MEN. (staring at girls) Eh, that's you! Only think o' that now! GIRLS. (coyly) What may you be at, now? Tell me, du! MEN. (admiringly) Eh, what a nose, And eh, what eyes, miss! Lips like a rose, And cheeks likewise, miss! GIRLS. (coyly) Oi tell you true, Which I've never done, sir, Oi loike you As I never loiked none, sir! ALL. Eh, but oi du loike you! MEN. If you'll marry me, I'll dig for you and rake for you! GIRLS. If you'll marry be, I'll scrub for you and bake for you! MEN. If you'll marry me, all others I'll forsake for you! ALL. All this will I du, if you marry me! GIRLS. If you'll marry me, I'll cook for you and brew for you! MEN. If you'll marry me, I've guineas not a few for you! GIRLS. If you'll marry me, I'll take you in and du for you! ALL. All this will I du, if you'll marry me! Eh, but I do loike you!

Country Dance

(At end of dance, enter Constance in tears, leading Notary, who carries an ear-trumpet)

Aria—CONSTANCE

Dear friends, take pity on my lot, My cup is not of nectar! I long have loved—as who would not?— Our kind and reverend rector. Long years ago my love began So sweetly—yet so sadly— But when I saw this plain old man, Away my old affection ran— I found I loved him madly. Oh!

(To Notary) You very, very plain old man, I love, I love you madly! CHORUS. You very, very plain old man, She loves, she loves you madly! NOTARY. I am a very deaf old man, And hear you very badly!

CONST. I know not why I love him so; It is enchantment, surely! He's dry and snuffy, deaf and slow Ill-tempered, weak and poorly! He's ugly, and absurdly dressed, And sixty-seven nearly, He's everything that I detest, But if the truth must be confessed, I love him very dearly! Oh!

(To Notary) You're everything that I detest, But still I love you dearly!

CHORUS. You've everything that girls detest, But still she loves you dearly!

NOTARY. I caught that line, but for the rest, I did not hear it clearly!

(During this verse Aline and Alexis have entered at back unobserved.)

ALINE AND ALEXIS

ALEX Oh joy! oh joy! The charm works well, And all are now united.

ALINE. The blind young boy Obeys the spell, And troth they all have plighted!

ENSEMBLE

Aline & Alexis Constance Notary

Oh joy! oh joy! Oh, bitter joy! Oh joy! oh joy! The charm works well, No words can tell No words can tell And all are now united! How my poor heart My state of mind The blind young boy is blighted! delighted. Obeys the spell, They'll soon employ They'll soon employ A marriage bell, A marriage bell, Their troth they all To say that we're To say that we're have plighted. united. united. True happiness I do confess True happiness Reigns everywhere, A sorrow rare Reigns everywhere And dwells with both My humbled spirit And dwells with both the sexes. vexes. the sexes, And all will bless And none will bless And all will bless The thoughtful care Example rare Example rare Of their beloved Of their beloved Of their beloved Alexis! Alexis! Alexis! (All, except Alexis and Aline, exeunt lovingly.)

ALINE How joyful they all seem in their new-found happiness! The whole village has paired off in the happiest manner. And yet not a match has been made that the hollow world would not consider ill-advised! ALEXIS But we are wiser—far wiser—than the world. Observe the good that will become of these ill-assorted unions. The miserly wife will check the reckless expenditure of her too frivolous consort, the wealthy husband will shower innumerable bonnets on his penniless bride, and the young and lively spouse will cheer the declining days of her aged partner with comic songs unceasing! ALINE What a delightful prospect for him! ALEXIS But one thing remains to be done, that my happiness may be complete. We must drink the philtre ourselves, that I may be assured of your love for ever and ever. ALINE Oh, Alexis, do you doubt me? Is it necessary that such love as ours should be secured by artificial means? Oh, no, no, no! ALEXIS My dear Aline, time works terrible changes, and I want to place our love beyond the chance of change. ALINE Alexis, it is already far beyond that chance. Have faith in me, for my love can never, never change! ALEXIS Then you absolutely refuse? ALINE I do. If you cannot trust me, you have no right to love me—no right to be loved by me. ALEXIS Enough, Aline, I shall know how to interpret this refusal.

BALLAD—ALEXIS

Thou hast the power thy vaunted love To sanctify, all doubt above, Despite the gathering shade: To make that love of thine so sure That, come what may, it must endure Till time itself shall fade. They love is but a flower That fades within the hour! If such thy love, oh, shame! Call it by other name— It is not love!

Thine is the power and thine alone, To place me on so proud a throne That kings might envy me! A priceless throne of love untold, More rare than orient pearl and gold. But no! Thou wouldst be free! Such love is like the ray That dies within the day: If such thy love, oh, shame! Call it by other name— It is not love!

Enter Dr. Daly.

DR. D. (musing) It is singular—it is very singular. It has overthrown all my calculations. It is distinctly opposed to the doctrine of averages. I cannot understand it. ALINE Dear Dr. Daly, what has puzzled you? DR. D. My dear, this village has not hitherto been addicted to marrying and giving in marriage. Hitherto the youths of this village have not been enterprising, and the maidens have been distinctly coy. Judge then of my surprise when I tell you that the whole village came to me in a body just now, and implored me to join them in matrimony with as little delay as possible. Even your excellent father has hinted to me that before very long it is not unlikely that he may also change his condition. ALINE Oh, Alexis—do you hear that? Are you not delighted? ALEXIS Yes, I confess that a union between your mother and my father would be a happy circumstance indeed. (Crossing to Dr. Daly) My dear sir—the news that you bring us is very gratifying. DR. D. Yes—still, in my eyes, it has its melancholy side.

This universal marrying recalls the happy days—now, alas, gone forever—when I myself might have—but tush! I am puling. I am too old to marry—and yet, within the last half-hour, I have greatly yearned for companionship. I never remarked it before, but the young maidens of this village are very comely. So likewise are the middle-aged. Also the elderly. All are comely—and (with a deep sigh) all are engaged! ALINE Here comes your father.

Enter Sir Marmaduke with Mrs. Partlet, arm-in-arm

ALINE and ALEXIS (aside). Mrs. Partlet! SIR M. Dr. Daly, give me joy. Alexis, my dear boy, you will, I am sure, be pleased to hear that my declining days are not unlikely to be solaced by the companionship of this good, virtuous, and amiable woman. ALEXIS (rather taken aback) My dear father, this is not altogether what I expected. I am certainly taken somewhat by surprise. Still it can hardly be necessary to assure you that any wife of yours is a mother of mine. (Aside to Aline.) It is not quite what I could have wished. MRS. P. (crossing to Alexis) Oh, sir, I entreat your forgiveness. I am aware that socially I am not everything that could be desired, nor am I blessed with an abundance of worldly goods, but I can at least confer on your estimable father the great and priceless dowry of a true, tender, and lovin' 'art! ALEXIS (coldly) I do not question it. After all, a faithful love is the true source of every earthly joy. SIR M. I knew that my boy would not blame his poor father for acting on the impulse of a heart that has never yet misled him. Zorah is not perhaps what the world calls beautiful— DR. D. Still she is comely—distinctly comely. (Sighs) ALINE Zorah is very good, and very clean, and honest, and quite, quite sober in her habits: and that is worth far more than beauty, dear Sir Marmaduke. DR. D. Yes; beauty will fade and perish, but personal cleanliness is practically undying, for it can be renewed whenever it discovers symptoms of decay. My dear Sir Marmaduke, I heartily congratulate you. (Sighs)

QUINTETTE

ALEXIS, ALINE, SIR MARMADUKE, ZORAH, and DR. DALY

ALEXIS. I rejoice that it's decided, Happy now will be his life, For my father is provided With a true and tender wife. She will tend him, nurse him, mend him, Air his linen, dry his tears; Bless the thoughtful fate that send him Such a wife to soothe his years!

ALINE. No young giddy thoughtless maiden, Full of graces, airs, and jeers— But a sober widow, laden With the weight of fifty years!

SIR M. No high-born exacting beauty Blazing like a jewelled sun— But a wife who'll do her duty, As that duty should be done!

MRS. P. I'm no saucy minx and giddy— Hussies such as them abound— But a clean and tidy widdy Well be-known for miles around!

DR.D. All the village now have mated, All are happy as can be— I to live alone am fated: No one's left to marry me!

ENSEMBLE. She will tend him etc.

(Exeunt Sir Marmaduke, Mrs. Partlet, and Aline, with Alexis. Dr. Daly looks after them sentimentally, then exits with a sigh.)

Enter Mr. Wells

RECITATIVE—MR. WELLS

Oh, I have wrought much evil with my spells! And ill I can't undo! This is too bad of you, J. W. Wells— What wrong have they done you? And see—another love-lorn lady comes— Alas, poor stricken dame! A gentle pensiveness her life benumbs— And mine, alone, the blame!

Lady Sangazure enters. She is very melancholy

LADY S. Alas, ah me! and well-a-day! I sigh for love, and well I may, For I am very old and grey. But stay!

(Sees Mr. Wells, and becomes fascinated by him.)

RECITATIVE

LADY S. What is this fairy form I see before me? MR. W. Oh horrible!—She's going to adore me! This last catastrophe is overpowering! LADY S. Why do you glare at one with visage lowering? For pity's sake recoil not thus from me! MR. W. My lady leave me—this may never be!

DUET—LADY SANGAZURE and MR. WELLS

MR. W. Hate me! I drop my H's—have through life! LADY S. Love me! I'll drop them too! MR. W. Hate me! I always eat peas with a knife! LADY S. Love me! I'll eat like you! MR. W. Hate me! I spend the day at Rosherville! LADY S. Love me! that joy I'll share! MR. W. Hate me! I often roll down One Tree Hill! LADY S. Love me! I'll join you there!

LADY S. Love me! My prejudices I will drop! MR. W. Hate me! that's not enough! LADY S. Love me! I'll come and help you in the shop! MR. W. Hate me! the life is rough! LADY S. Love me! my grammar I will all forswear! MR. W. Hate me! abjure my lot! LADY S. Love me! I'll stick sunflowers in my hair! MR. W. Hate me! they'll suit you not!

RECITATIVE—MR. WELLS

At what I am going to say be not enraged— I may not love you—for I am engaged! LADY S. (horrified) Engaged! MR. W. Engaged! To a maiden fair, With bright brown hair, And a sweet and simple smile, Who waits for me By the sounding sea, On a South Pacific isle. MR. W. (aside) A lie! No maiden waits me there! LADY S. (mournfully) She has bright brown hair; MR. W. (aside) A lie! No maiden smiles on me! LADY S. (mournfully) By the sounding sea!

ENSEMBLE

LADY SANGAZURE MR. W.

Oh agony, rage, despair! Oh, agony, rage, despair! The maiden has bright brown hair, Oh, where will this end—oh, where? And mine is as white as snow! I should like very much to know! False man, it will be your fault, It will certainly be my fault, If I go to my family vault, If she goes to her family vault, And bury my life-long woe! To bury her life-long woe!

BOTH. The family vault—the family vault. It will certainly be (your/my) fault. If (I go/she goes) to (my/her) family vault, To bury (my/her) life-long woe!

(Exit Lady Sangazure, in great anguish, accompanied by Mr. Wells.)

Enter Aline, Recitative

Alexis! Doubt me not, my loved one! See, Thine uttered will is sovereign law to me! All fear—all thought of ill I cast away! It is may darling's will, and I obey! (She drinks the philtre.)

The fearful deed is done, My love is near! I go to meet my own In trembling fear! If o'er us aught of ill Should cast a shade, It was my darling's will, And I obeyed!

(As Aline is going off, she meets Dr. Daly, entering pensively. He is playing on a flageolet. Under the influence of the spell she at once becomes strangely fascinated by him, and exhibits every symptom of being hopelessly in love with him.)

SONG—DR. DALY

Oh, my voice is sad and low And with timid step I go— For with load of love o'er laden I enquire of every maiden, "Will you wed me, little lady? Will you share my cottage shady?" Little lady answers "No! Thank you for your kindly proffer— Good your heart, and full your coffer; Yet I must decline your offer— I'm engaged to So-and-so!" So-and-so! So-and-so! (flageolet solo) She's engaged to So-and-so! What a rogue young hearts to pillage; What a worker on Love's tillage! Every maiden in the village Is engage to So-and-so! So-and-so! So-and-so! (flageolet solo) All engaged to So-and-so!

(At the end of the song Dr. Daly sees Aline, and, under the influence of the potion, falls in love with her.)

ENSEMBLE—ALINE and DR. DALY.

Oh, joyous boon! oh, mad delight; Oh, sun and moon! oh, day and night! Rejoice, rejoice with me! Proclaim our joy, ye birds above— Yet brooklets, murmur forth our love, In choral ecstasy: ALINE. Oh, joyous boon! DR. D. Oh, mad delight! ALINE. Oh, sun and moon! DR. D. Oh, day and night! BOTH. Ye birds, and brooks, and fruitful trees, With choral joy, delight the breeze— Rejoice, rejoice with me!

Enter Alexis

ALEXIS (with rapture). Aline my only love, my happiness! The philtre—you have tasted it? ALINE (with confusion). Yes! Yes! ALEXIS Oh, joy, mine, mine for ever, and for aye!

(Embraces her.) ALINE Alexis, don't do that—you must not!

(Dr. Daly interposes between them)

ALEXIS (amazed). Why?

DUET—ALINE and DR. DALY

ALINE. Alas! that lovers thus should meet: Oh, pity, pity me! Oh, charge me not with cold deceit; Oh, pity, pity me! You bade me drink—with trembling awe I drank, and, by the potion's law, I loved the very first I saw! Oh, pity, pity, me!

DR. D. My dear young friend, consoled be— We pity, pity you. In this I'm not an agent free— We pity, pity you. Some most extraordinary spell O'er us has cast its magic fell— The consequence I need not tell. We pity, pit you.

ENSEMBLE

Some most extraordinary spell O'er (us/them) has cast its magic fell— The consequence (we/they) need not tell. (We/They) pity, pity (thee!/me).

ALEXIS (furiously) False one, begone—I spurn thee, To thy new lover turn thee! Thy perfidy all men shall know, ALINE. (wildly) I could not help it! ALEXIS (calling off) Come one, come all! DR. D. We could not help it! ALEXIS (calling off) Obey my call! ALINE (wildly) I could not help it! ALEXIS (calling off) Come hither, run! DR. D. We could not help it! ALEXIS (calling off) Come, every one!

Enter all the characters except Lady Sangazure and Mr. Wells

CHORUS

Oh, what is the matter, and what is the clatter? He's glowering at her, and threatens a blow! Oh, why does he batter the girl he did flatter? And why does the latter recoil from him so?

RECITATIVE—ALEXIS

Prepare for sad surprises— My love Aline despises! No thought of sorrow shames her— Another lover claims her! Be his, false girl, for better or for worse— But, ere you leave me, may a lover's curse—

DR. D. (coming forward) Hold! Be just. This poor child drank the philtre at your instance. She hurried off to meet you—but, most unhappily, she met me instead. As you had administered the potion to both of us, the result was inevitable. But fear nothing from me—I will be no man's rival. I shall quit the country at once—and bury my sorrow in the congenial gloom of a Colonial Bishopric. ALEXIS My excellent old friend! (Taking his hand—then turning to Mr. Wells, who has entered with Lady Sangazure.) Oh, Mr. Wells, what, what is to be done? WELLS I do not know—and yet—there is one means by which this spell may be removed. ALEXIS Name it—oh, name it! WELLS Or you or I must yield up his life to Ahrimanes. I would rather it were you. I should have no hesitation in sacrificing my own life to spare yours, but we take stock next week, and it would not be fair on the Co. ALEXIS True. Well, I am ready! ALINE No, no—Alexis—it must not be! Mr. Wells, if he must die that all may be restored to their old loves, what is to become of me? I should be left out in the cold, with no love to be restored to! WELLS True—I did not think of that. (To the others) My friends, I appeal to you, and I will leave the decision in your hands.

FINALE

MR. W. Or I or he Must die! Which shall it be? Reply! SIR M. Die thou! Thou art the cause of all offending! DR. D. Die thou! Yield to this decree unbending! ALL. Die thou! MR. W. So be it! I submit! My fate is sealed. To public execration thus I yield!

(Falls on trap)

Be happy all—leave me to my despair— I go—it matters not with whom—or where!

(Gong)

(All quit their present partners, and rejoin their old lovers. Sir Marmaduke leaves Mrs. Partlet, and goes to Lady Sangazure. Aline leaves Dr. Daly, and goes to Alexis. Dr. Daly leaves Aline, and goes to Constance. Notary leaves Constance, and goes to Mrs. Partlet. All the Chorus makes a corresponding change.)

ALL

GENTLEMEN. Oh, my adored one! LADIES. Unmingled joy! GENTLEMEN. Ecstatic rapture! LADIES. Beloved boy!

(They embrace)

SIR M. Come to my mansion, all of you! At least We'll crown our rapture with another feast!

ENSEMBLE

SIR MARMADUKE, LADY SANGAZURE, ALEXIS, and ALINE

Now to the banquet we press— Now for the eggs and the ham— Now for the mustard and cress— Now for the strawberry jam!

CHORUS Now to the banquet, etc.

DR. DALY, CONSTANCE, NOTARY, and MRS. PARTLET

Now for the tea of our host— Now for the rollicking bun— Now for the muffin and toast— Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

CHORUS. Now for the tea, etc.

(General Dance)

(During the symphony Mr. Wells sinks through the trap, amid red fire.)

CURTAIN



THESPIS

OR

THE GODS GROWN OLD

Libretto by William S. Gilbert Music by Arthur S. Sullivan

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

GODS

Jupiter, Aged Diety Apollo, Aged Diety Mars, Aged Diety Diana, Aged Diety Mercury

THESPIANS

Thespis Sillimon Timidon Tipseion Preposteros Stupidas Sparkeion Nicemis Pretteia Daphne Cymon

ACT I - Ruined Temple on the Summit of Mount Olympus

ACT II - The same Scene, with the Ruins Restored



ACT I

[Scene—The ruins of the The Temple of the Gods, on summit of Mount Olympus. Picturesque shattered columns, overgrown with ivy, etc. R. and L. with entrances to temple (ruined) R. Fallen columns on the stage. Three broken pillars 2 R.E. At the back of stage is the approach from the summit of the mountain. This should be "practicable" to enable large numbers of people to ascend and descend. In the distance are the summits of adjacent mountains. At first all this is concealed by a thick fog, which clears presently. Enter (through fog) Chorus of Stars coming off duty as fatigued with their night's work]

CHO. Through the night, the constellations, Have given light from various stations. When midnight gloom falls on all nations, We will resume our occupations.

SOLO. Our light, it's true, is not worth mention; What can we do to gain attention. When night and noon with vulgar glaring A great big moon is always flaring.

[During chorus, enter Diana, an elderly goddess. She is carefully wrapped up in cloaks, shawls, etc. A hood is over her head, a respirator in her mouth, and galoshes on her feet. During the chorus, she takes these things off and discovers herself dressed in the usual costume of the Lunar Diana, the goddess of the moon.

DIA. [shuddering] Ugh. How cold the nights are. I don't know how it is, but I seem to feel the night air a good deal more than I used to. But it is time for the sun to be rising. [Calls] Apollo.

AP. [within] Hollo.

DIA. I've come off duty—it's time for you to be getting up.

[Enter Apollo. He is an elderly "buck" with an air of assumed juvenility and is dressed in dressing gown and smoking cap.

AP. [yawning] I shan't go out today. I was out yesterday and the day before and I want a little rest. I don't know how it is,but I seem to feel my work a great deal more than I used to.

DIA. I am sure these short days can't hurt you. Why you don't rise til six and you're in bed again by five; you should have a turn at my work and see how you like that—out all night.

AP. My dear sister, I don't envy you—though I remember when I did—but that was when I was a younger sun. I don't think I'm quite well. Perhaps a little change of air will do me good. I've a mind to show myself in London this winter. They'll be very glad to see me. No. I shan't go out today. I shall send them this fine, thick wholesome fog and they won't miss me. It's the best substitute for a blazing sun—and like most substitutes, nothing at all like the real thing.

[Fog clears away and discovers the scene described. Hurried music. Mercury shoots up from behind precipice at the back of stage. He carries several parcels afterwards described. He sits down, very much fatigued.]

MER. Home at last. A nice time I've had of it.

DIA. You young scamp you've been out all night again. This is the third time you've been out this week.

MER. Well you're a nice one to blow me up for that.

DIA. I can't help being out all night.

MER. And I can't help being down all night. The nature of Mercury requires that he should go down when the sun sets, and rise again when the sun rises.

DIA. And what have you been doing?

MER. Stealing on commission. There's a set of false teeth and a box of Life Pills for Jupiter—an invisible peruke and a bottle of hair dye—that's for Apollo—a respirator and a pair of galoshes—that's for Cupid—a full bottomed chignon, some auricomous fluid, a box of pearl-powder, a pot of rouge, and a hare's foot—that's for Venus.

DIA. Stealing. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

MER. Oh, as the god of thieves I must do something to justify my position.

DIA.and AP. [contemptuously] Your position.

MER. Oh, I know it's nothing to boast of even on earth. Up here, it's simply contemptible. Now that you gods are too old for your work, you've made me the miserable drudge of Olympus—groom, valet, postman, butler, commissionaire, maid of all work, parish beadle, and original dustman.

AP. Your Christmas boxes ought to be something considerable.

MER. They ought to be but they're not. I'm treated abominably. I make everybody and I'm nobody. I go everywhere and I'm nowhere. I do everything and I'm nothing. I've made thunder for Jupiter, odes for Apollo, battles for Mars, and love for Venus. I've married couples for Humen and six weeks afterwards, I've divorced them for Cupid, and in return I get all the kicks while they pocket the halfpence. And in compensation for robbing me of the halfpence in question, what have they done for me.

AP. Why they've—ha.ha.ha. they've made you the god of thieves.

MER. Very self denying of them. There isn't one of them who hasn't a better claim to the distinction than I have.

Oh, I'm the celestial drudge, For morning to night I must stop at it. On errands all day I must trudge, And stick to my work til I drop at it. In summer I get up at one. (As a good-natured donkey I'm ranked for it.) then I go and I light up the sun. And Phoebus Apollo gets thanked for it. Well, well, it's the way of the world. And will be through all its futurity. Though noodles are baroned and earled, There's nothing for clever obscurity.

I'm the slave of the Gods, neck and heels, And I'm bound to obey, though I rate at 'em. And I not only order their meals, But I cook 'em and serve'em and wait at 'em. Then I make all their nectar, I do. (What a terrible liquor to rack us is.) And whenever I mix them a brew, Why all the thanksgivings are Bacchus's. Well, well, it's the way of the world, etc.....

The reading and writing I teach. And spelling-books many I've edited. And for bringing those arts within reach, That donkey Minerva gets credited. Then I scrape at the stars with a knife, And plate-powder the moon (on the days for it). And I hear all the world and his wife Awarding Diana the praise for it. Well, well, it's the way of the world, etc....

[After song—very loud and majestic music is heard]

DIA and MER [looking off] Why, who's this? Jupiter, by Jove.

[Enter Jupiter, an extremely old man, very decrepit, with very thin straggling white beard, he wears a long braided dressing gown, handsomely trimmed, and a silk night-cap on his head. Mercury falls back respectfully as he enters.]

JUP. Good day, Diana. Ah, Apollo. Well, well, well, what's the matter? What's the matter?

DIA. Why that young scamp Mercury says that we do nothing, and leave all the duties of Olympus to him. Will you believe it, he actually says that our influence on earth is dropping down to nil.

JUP. Well, well. Don't be hard on the lad. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure that he's far wrong. Don't let it go any further, but, between ourselves, the sacrifices and votive offerings have fallen off terribly of late. Why, I can remember the time when people offered us human sacrifices, no mistake about it, human sacrifices. Think of that.

DIA. Ah. Those good old days.

JUP. Then it fell off to oxen, pigs, and sheep.

AP. Well, there are worse things than oxen, pigs and sheep.

JUP. So I've found to my cost. My dear sir, between ourselves, it's dropped off from one thing to another until it has positively dwindled down to preserved Australian beef. What do you think of that?

AP. I don't like it at all.

JUP. You won't mention it. It might go further.

DIA. It couldn't fare worse.

JUP. In short, matters have come to such a crisis that there's no mistake about it—something must be done to restore our influence, the only question is, what?

MER. [Coming forward in great alarm. Enter Mars] Oh incident unprecedented. I hardly can believe it's true.

MARS. Why, bless the boy, he's quite demented. Why, what's the matter, sir, with you?

AP. Speak quickly, or you'll get a warming.

MER. Why, mortals up the mount are swarming Our temple on Olympus storming, In hundreds—aye in thousands, too.

ALL. Goodness gracious How audacious Earth is spacious Why come here? Our impeding Their proceeding Were good breeding That is clear.

DIA. Jupiter, hear my plea. Upon the mount if they light. There'll be an end of me. I won't be seen by daylight.

AP. Tartarus is the place These scoundrels you should send to— Should they behold my face. My influence there's an end to.

JUP. [looking over precipice] What fools to give themselves so much exertion

DIA. A government survey I'll make assertion.

AP. Perhaps the Alpine clubs their diversion.

MER. They seem to be more like a "Cook's" excursion.

ALL. Goodness gracious, etc.

AP. If, mighty Jove, you value your existence, Send them a thunderbolt with your regards.

JUP. My thunderbolts, though valid at a distance, Are not effective at a hundred yards.

MER. Let the moon's rays, Diana, strike 'em flighty, Make 'em all lunatics in various styles.

DIA. My lunar rays unhappily are mighty Only at many hundred thousand miles.

ALL. Goodness gracious, etc...

[Exeunt Jupiter, Apollo, Diana, and Mercury into ruined temple]

[Enter Sparkeion and Nicemis climbing mountain at back.]

SPAR. Here we are at last on the very summit, and we've left the others ever so far behind. Why, what's this?

NICE. A ruined palace. A palace on the top of a mountain. I wonder who lives here? Some mighty kind, I dare say, with wealth beyond all counting who came to live up here—

SPAR. To avoid his creditors. It's a lovely situation for a country house though it's very much out of repair.

NICE. Very inconvenient situation.

SPAR. Inconvenient.

NICE. Yes, how are you to get butter, milk, and eggs up here? No pigs, no poultry, no postman. Why, I should go mad.

SPAR. What a dear little practical mind it is. What a wife you will make.

NICE. Don't be too sure—we are only partly married—the marriage ceremony lasts all day.

SPAR. I have no doubt at all about it. We shall be as happy as a king and queen, though we are only a strolling actor and actress.

NICE. It's very nice of Thespis to celebrate our marriage day by giving the company a picnic on this lovely mountain.

SPAR. And still more kind to allow us to get so much ahead of all the others. Discreet Thespis. [kissing her]

NICE,. There now, get away, do. Remember the marriage ceremony is not yet completed.

SPAR. But it would be ungrateful to Thespis's discretion not to take advantage of it by improving the opportunity.

NICE. Certainly not; get away.

SPAR. On second thought the opportunity's so good it don't admit of improvement. There. [kisses her]

NICE. How dare you kiss me before we are quite married?

SPAR. Attribute it to the intoxicating influence of the mountain air.

NICE. Then we had better do down again. It is not right to expose ourselves to influences over which we have no control.

SPAR. Here far away from all the world, Dissension and derision, With Nature's wonders all unfurled To our delighted vision, With no one here (At least in sight) To interfere With our delight, And two fond lovers sever, Oh do not free, Thine hand from mine, I swear to thee My love is ever thine For ever and for ever.

NICE. On mountain top the air is keen, And most exhilarating, And we say things we do not mean In moments less elating. So please to wait For thoughts that crop, En tete-a-tete, On mountain top, May not exactly tally With those that you May entertain, Returning to The sober plain Of yon relaxing valley

SPAR. Very well—if you won't have anything to say to me, I know who will.

NICE. Who will?

SPAR. Daphne will.

NICE. Daphne would flirt with anybody.

SPAR. Anybody would flirt with Daphne. She is quite as pretty as you and has twice as much back-hair.

NICE. She has twice as much money, which may account for it.

SPAR. At all events, she has appreciation. She likes good looks.

NICE. We all like what we haven;t got.

SPAR. She keeps her eyes open.

NICE. Yes—one of them.

SPAR. Which one.

NICE. The one she doesn't wink with.

SPAR. Well, I was engaged to her for six months and if she still makes eyes at me, you must attribute it to force of habit. Besides—remember—we are only half-married at present.

NICE. I suppose you mean that you are going to treat me as shamefully as you treated her. Very well, break it off if you like. I shall not offer any objection. Thespis used to be very attentive to me. I'd just as soon be a manager's wife as a fifth- rate actor's.

[Chorus heard, at first below, then enter Daphne, Pretteia, Preposteros, Stupidas, Tipseion, Cymon, and other members of Thespis's company climbing over rocks at back. All carry small baskets.]

CHO. [with dance] Climbing over rocky mountain Skipping rivulet and fountain, Passing where the willows quiver By the ever rolling river, Swollen with the summer rain. Threading long and leafy mazes, Dotted with unnumbered daisies, Scaling rough and rugged passes, Climb the hearty lads and lasses, Til the mountain-top they gain.

FIRST VOICE. Fill the cup and tread the measure Make the most of fleeting leisure. Hail it as a true ally Though it perish bye and bye.

SECOND VOICE. Every moment brings a treasure Of its own especial pleasure, Though the moments quickly die, Greet them gaily as they fly.

THIRD VOICE. Far away from grief and care, High up in the mountain air, Let us live and reign alone, In a world that's all our own.

FOURTH VOICE. Here enthroned in the sky, Far away from mortal eye, We'll be gods and make decrees, Those may honor them who please.

CHO. Fill the cup and tread the measure...etc.

[After Chorus and Couples enter, Thespis climbing over rocks]

THES. Bless you, my people, bless you. Let the revels commence. After all, for thorough, unconstrained unconventional enjoyment give me a picnic.

PREP. [very gloomily] Give him a picnic, somebody.

THES. Be quiet, Preposteros. Don't interrupt.

PREP. Ha. Ha. Shut up again. But no matter.

[Stupidas endeavors, in pantomime, to reconcile him. Throughout the scene Prep shows symptoms of breaking out into a furious passion, and Stupidas does all he can to pacify and restrain him.]

THES. The best of a picnic is that everybody contributes what he pleases, and nobody knows what anybody else has brought til the last moment. Now, unpack everybody and let's see what there is for everybody.

NICE. I have brought you—a bottle of soda water—for the claret- cup.

DAPH. I have brought you—lettuce for the lobster salad.

SPAR. A piece of ice—for the claret-cup.

PRETT. A bottle of vinegar—for the lobster salad.

CYMON. A bunch of burrage for the claret-cup.

TIPS. A hard boiled egg—for the lobster salad.

STUP. One lump of sugar for the claret-cup.

PREP. He has brought one lump of sugar for the claret-cup? Ha. Ha. Ha. [laughing melodramatically]

STUP. Well, Preposteros, what have you brought?

PREP. I have brought two lumps of the very best salt for the lobster salad.

THES. Oh—is that all?

PREP. All. Ha. Ha. He asks if it is all. {Stup. consoles him]

THES. But, I say—this is capital so far as it goes. Nothing could be better, but it doesn't go far enough. The claret, for instance. I don't insist on claret—or a lobster—I don't insist on lobster, but a lobster salad without a lobster, why it isn't lobster salad. Here, Tipseion.

TIP. [a very drunken, bloated fellow, dressed, however, with scrupulous accuracy and wearing a large medal around his neck] My master. [Falls on his knees to Thes. and kisses his robe.]

THES. Get up—don't be a fool. Where's the claret? We arranged last week that you were to see to that.

TIPS. True, dear master. But then I was a drunkard.

THES. You were.

TIPS. You engaged me to play convivial parts on the strength of my personal appearance.

THES. I did.

TIPS. Then you found that my habits interfered with my duties as low comedian.

THES. True.

TIPS. You said yesterday that unless I took the pledge you would dismiss me from your company.

THES. Quite so.

TIPS. Good. I have taken it. It is all I have taken since yesterday. My preserver. [embraces him]

THES. Yes, but where's the wine?

TIPS. I left it behind that I might not be tempted to violate my pledge.

PREP. Minion. [Attempts to get at him, is restrained by Stupidas]

THES. Now, Preposteros, what is the matter with you?

PREP. It is enough that I am down-trodden in my profession. I will not submit to imposition out of it. It is enough that as your heavy villain I get the worst of it every night in a combat of six. I will not submit to insult in the day time. I have come out. Ha. Ha. to enjoy myself.

THES. But look here, you know—virtue only triumphs at night from seven to ten—vice gets the best of it during the other twenty one hours. Won't that satisfy you? [Stupidas endeavours to pacify him.]

PREP. [Irritated to Stupidas] Ye are odious to my sight. Get out of it.

STUP. [In great terror] What have I done?

THES. Now what is it. Preposteros, what is it?

PREP. I a — hate him and would have his life.

THES. [to Stup.] That's it—he hates you and would have your life. Now go and be merry.

STUP. Yes, but why does he hate me?

THES. Oh—exactly. [to Prep.] Why do you hate him?

PREP. Because he is a minion.

THES. He hates you because you are a minion. It explains itself. Now go and enjoy yourselves. Ha. Ha. It is well for those who can laugh—let them do so—there is no extra charge. The light- hearted cup and the convivial jest for them—but for me—what is there for me?

SILLI. There is some claret-cup and lobster salad [handing some]

THES. [taking it] Thank you. [Resuming] What is there for me but anxiety—ceaseless gnawing anxiety that tears at my very vitals and rends my peace of mind asunder? There is nothing whatever for me but anxiety of the nature I have just described. The charge of these thoughtless revellers is my unhappy lot. It is not a small charge, and it is rightly termed a lot because there are many. Oh why did the gods make me a manager?

SILL. [as guessing a riddle] Why did the gods make him a manager?

SPAR. Why did the gods make him a manager.

DAPH. Why did the gods make him a manager?

PRETT. Why did the gods make him a manager?

THES. No—no—what are you talking about? What do you mean?

DAPH. I've got it—no don't tell us.

ALL. No—no—because—because

THES. [annoyed] It isn't a conundrum. It's misanthropical question.

DAPH. [Who is sitting with Spar. to the annoyance of Nice. who is crying alone] I'm sure I don't know. We do not want you. Don't distress yourself on our account—we are getting on very comfortably—aren't we Sparkeion.

SPAR. We are so happy that we don't miss the lobster or the claret. What are lobster and claret compared with the society of those we love? [embracing Daphne.]

DAPH. Why, Nicemis, love, you are eating nothing. Aren't you happy dear?

NICE. [spitefully] You are quite welcome to my share of everything. I intend to console myself with the society of my manager. [takes Thespis' arm affectionately].

THES. Here I say—this won't do, you know—I can't allow it—at least before my company—besides, you are half-married to Sparkeion. Sparkeion, here's your half-wife impairing my influence before my company. Don't you know the story of the gentleman who undermined his influence by associating with his inferiors?

ALL. Yes, yes—we know it.

PREP. [formally] I do not know it. It's ever thus. Doomed to disappointment from my earliest years. [Stup. endeavours to console him]

THES. There—that's enough. Preposteros—you shall hear it.

I once knew a chap who discharged a function On the North South East West Diddlesex Junction. He was conspicuous exceeding, For his affable ways, and his easy breeding. Although a chairman of directions, He was hand in glove with the ticket inspectors. He tipped the guards with brand new fivers, And sang little songs to the engine drivers. 'Twas told to me with great compunction, By one who had discharged with unction A chairman of directors function On the North South East West Diddlesex Junction. Fol diddle, lol diddle, lol lol lay.

Each Christmas day he gave each stoker A silver shovel and a golden poker. He'd button holw flowers for the ticket sorters And rich Bath-buns for the outside porters. He'd moun the clerks on his first-class hunters, And he build little villas for the road-side shunters, And if any were fond of pigeon shooting, He'd ask them down to his place at Tooting. Twas told to me....etc.

In course of time there spread a rumour That he did all this from a sense of humour. So instead of signalling and stoking, They gave themselves up to a course of joking. Whenever they knew that he was riding, They shunted his train on a lonely siding, Or stopped all night in the middle of a tunnel, On the plea that the boiler was a-coming through the funnel. Twas told to me...etc.

It he wished to go to Perth or Stirling, His train through several counties whirling, Would set him down in a fit of larking, At four a.m. in the wilds of Barking. This pleased his whim and seemed to strike it, But the general public did not like it. The receipts fell, after a few repeatings, And he got it hot at the annual meetings. Twas told to me...etc.

He followed out his whim with vigour, The shares went down to a nominal figure. These are the sad results proceeding From his affable ways and his easy breeding. The line, with its rais and guards and peelers, Was sold for a song to marine store dealers The shareholders are all in the work'us, And he sells pipe-lights in the Regent Circus. Twas told to me...etc.

It's very hard. As a man I am naturally of an easy disposition. As a manager, I am compelled to hold myself aloof, that my influence may not be deteriorated. As a man I am inclined to fraternize with the pauper—as a manager I am compelled to walk around like this: Don't know yah. Don't know yah. Don't know yah.

[Strides haughtily about the stage. Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo, in full Olympian costume appear on the three broken columns. Thespians scream.]

JUP, MARS, AP. Presumptuous mortal.

THES. Don't know ya. Don't know yah.

JUP, MARS, AP. [seated on broken pillars] Presumptuous mortal.

THES. I do not know you. I do not know you.

JUP, MARS, AP. Presumptuous mortal.

THES. Remove this person.

[Stup and Prep seize Ap and Mars]

JUP. Stop, you evidently don't know me. Allow me to offer you my card. [Throws flash paper]

THES. Ah yes, it's very pretty, but we don't want any at present. When we do our Christmas piece, I'll let you know. [Changing his manner] Look here, you know this is a private party and we haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance. There are a good many other mountains about, if you must have a mountain all to yourself. Don't make me let myself down before my company. [Resuming] Don't know yah, Don't know yah.

JUP. I am Jupiter, the king of the gods. This is Apollo. This is Mars. [All kneel to them except Thespis]

THES. Oh. Then as I'm a respectable man, and rather particular about the company I keep, I think I'll go.

JUP. No—no—stop a bit. We want to consult you on a matter of great importance. There. Now we are alone. Who are you?

THES. I am Thespis of the Thessalian Theatres.

JUP. The very man we want. Now as a judge of what the public likes are you impressed with my appearance as father of the gods?

THES. Well to be candid with you, I am not. In fact I'm disappointed.

JUP. Disappointed?

THES. Yes, you see you're so much out of repair. No, you don't come up to my idea of the part. Bless you, I've played you often.

JUP. You have.

THES. To be sure I have.

JUP. And how have you dressed the part.

THES. Fine commanding party in the prime of life. Thunderbolt— full beard—dignified manner—a good eal of this sort of thin "Don't know ya. Don't know yah. Don't know yah.

JUP. [much affected] I—I'm very much obliged to you. It's very good of you. I—I—I used to be like that. I can't tell you how much I feel it. And do you find I'm an impressive character to play?

THES. Well no, I can't say you are. In fact we don't you you much out of burlesque.

JUP. Burlesque!

THES. Yes, it's a painful subject, drop it, drop it. The fact is, you are not the gods you were—you're behind your age.

JUP. Well, but what are we to do? We feel that we ought to do something, but we don't know what.

THES. Why don't you all go down to earth, incog, mingle with the world, hear and see what people think of you, and judge for yourselves as to the best means to take to restore your influence?

JUP. Ah, but what's to become of Olympus in the meantime?

THES. Lor' bless you, don't distress yourself about that. I've a very good company, used to take long parts on the shortest notice. Invest us with your powers and we'll fill your places till you return.

JUP. [aside] The offer is tempting. But suppose you fail?

THES. Fail. Oh, we never fail in our profession. We've nothing but great successes.

JUP. Then it's a bargain.

THES. It's a bargain. [they shake hands on it]

JUP. And that you may not be entirely without assistance, we will leave you Mercury and whenever you find yourself in a difficulty you can consult him. [enter Mercury]

JUP. So that's arranged—you take my place, my boy, While we make trial of a new existence. At length I will be able to enjoy The pleasures I have envied from a distance.

MER. Compelled upon Olympus here to stop, While the other gods go down to play the hero. Don't be surprised if on this mountain top You find your Mercury is down at zero.

AP. To earth away to join in mortal acts. And gather fresh materials to write on. Investigate more closely, several facts, That I for centuries have thrown some light on.

DIA. I, as the modest moon with crescent bow. Have always shown a light to nightly scandal, I must say I'd like to go below, And find out if the game is worth the candle.

[enter all thespians, summoned by Mercury]

MER. Here come your people.

THES. People better now.

THES. While mighty Jove goes down below With all the other deities. I fill his place and wear his "clo," The very part for me it is. To mother earth to make a track, They are all spurred and booted, too. And you will fill, till they come back, The parts you best are suited to.

CHO. Here's a pretty tale for future Iliads and Odysseys Mortals are about to personate the gods and goddesses. Now to set the world in order, we will work in unity. Jupiter's perplexity is Thespis's opportunity.

SPAR. Phoebus am I, with golden ray, The god of day, the god of day. When shadowy night has held her sway, I make the goddesses fly. Tis mine the task to wake the world, In slumber curled, in slumber curled. By me her charms are all unfurled The god of day am I.

CHO. The god of day, the god of day, The park shall our Sparkeion play, Ha Ha, etc. The rarest fun and rarest fare That ever fell to mortal share Ha ha etc.

NICE. I am the moon, the lamp of night. I show a light — I show a light. With radiant sheen I put to flight The shadows of the sky. By my fair rays, as you're aware, Gay lovers swear—gay lovers swear, While greybeards sleep away their care, The lamp of night am I.

CHO. The lamp of night-the lamp of night. Nicemis plays, to her delight. Ha Ha Ha Ha. The rarest fun and rarest fare, That ever fell to mortal share, Ha Ha Ha Ha

TIM. Mighty old Mars, the god of war, I'm destined for—I'm destined for. A terribly famous conqueror, With sword upon his thigh. When armies meet with eager shout And warlike rout, and warlike rout, You'll find me there without a doubt. The God of War am I.

CHO. The god of war, the god of war Great Timidon is destined for. Ha Ha Ha Ha The rest fun and rarest fare That ever fell to mortal share Ha Ha Ha Ha

DAPH. When, as the fruit of warlike deeds, The soldier bleed, the soldier bleeds, Calliope crowns heroic deeds, With immortality. From mere oblivion I reclaim The soldier's name, the soldier's name And write it on the roll of fame, The muse of fame am I.

CHO. The muse of fame, the muse of fame. Callipe is Daphne's name. Ha Ha Ha Ha The rarest fun and rarest fare, That ever fell to mortal share. Ha Ha Ha Ha.

TUTTI. Here's a pretty tale.

[Enter procession of old Gods, they come down very much astonished at all they see, then passing by, ascent the platform that leads to the descent at the back.]

GODS. We will go, Down below, Revels rare, We will share. Ha Ha Ha With a gay Holiday All unknown, And alone Ha Ha Ha.

TUTTI. Here's a pretty tale.

[The gods, including those who have lately entered in procession group themselves on rising ground at back. The Thespians kneeling bid them farewell.]



ACT II

SCENE-the same scene as in Act I with the exception that in place of the ruins that filled the foreground of the stage, the interior of a magnificent temple is seen showing the background of the scene of Act I, through the columns of the portico at the back. High throne. L.U.E. Low seats below it. All the substitute gods and goddesses [that is to say, Thespians] are discovered grouped in picturesque attitudes about the stage, eating and drinking, and smoking and singing the following verses.

CHO. Of all symposia The best by half Upon Olympus, here await us. We eat ambrosia. And nectar quaff, It cheers but don't inebriate us. We know the fallacies, Of human food So please to pass Olympian rosy, We built up palaces, Where ruins stood, And find them much more snug and cosy.

SILL. To work and think, my dear, Up here would be, The height of conscientious folly. So eat and drink, my dear, I like to see, Young people gay—young people jolly. Olympian food my love, I'll lay long odds, Will please your lips—those rosy portals, What is the good, my love Of being gods, If we must work like common mortals?

CHO. Of all symposia...etc.

[Exeunt all but Nicemis, who is dressed as Diana and Pretteia, who is dressed as Venus. They take Sillimon's arm and bring him down]

SILL. Bless their little hearts, I can refuse them nothing. As the Olympian stage-manager I ought to be strict with them and make them do their duty, but i can't. Bless their little hearts, when I see the pretty little craft come sailing up to me with a wheedling smile on their pretty little figure-heads, I can't turn my back on 'em. I'm all bow, though I'm sure I try to be stern.

PRET. You certainly are a dear old thing.

SILL. She says I'm a dear old thing. Deputy Venus says I'm a dear old thing.

NICE. It's her affectionate habit to describe everybody in those terms. I am more particular, but still even I am bound to admit that you are certainly a very dear old thing.

SILL. Deputy Venus says I'm a dear old thing, and Deputy Diana who is much more particular, endorses it. Who could be severe with such deputy divinities.

PRET. Do you know, I'm going to ask you a favour.

SILL. Venus is going to ask me a favour.

PRET. You see, I am Venus.

SILL. No one who saw your face would doubt it.

NICE. [aside] No one who knew her character would.

PRET. Well Venus, you know, is married to Mars.

SILL. To Vulcan, my dear, to Vulcan. The exact connubial relation of the different gods and goddesses is a point on which we must be extremely particular.

PRET. I beg your pardon—Venus is married to Mars.

NICE. If she isn't married to Mars, she ought to be.

SILL. Then that decides it—call it married to Mars.

PRET. Married to Vulcan or married to Mars, what does it signify?

SILL. My dear, it's a matter on which I have no personal feeling whatever.

PRET. So that she is married to someone.

SILL. Exactly. So that she is married to someone. Call it married to Mars.

PRET. Now here's my difficulty. Presumptios takes the place of Mars, and Presumptios is my father.

SILL. Then why object to Vulcan?

PRET. Because Vulcan is my grandfather.

SILL. But, my dear, what an objection. You are playing a part till the real gods return. That's all. Whether you are supposed to be married to your father—or your grandfather, what does it matter? This passion for realism is the curse of the stage.

PRET. That's all very well, but I can't throw myself into a part that has already lasted a twelvemonth, when I have to make love to my father. It interferes with my conception of the characters. It spoils the part.

SILL. Well, well. I'll see what can be done. [Exit Pretteia, L.U.E.) That's always the way with beginners, they've no imaginative power. A true artist ought to be superior to such considerations. [Nicemis comes down R.] Well, Nicemis, I should say, Diana, what's wrong with you? Don't you like your part?

NICE. Oh, immensely. It's great fun.

SILL. Don't you find it lonely out by yourself all night?

NICE. Oh, but I'm not alone all night.

SILL. But, I don't want to ask any injudicious questions, but who accompanies you?

NICE. Who? Why Sparkeion, of course.

SILL. Sparkeion? Well, but Sparkeion is Phoebus Apollo [enter Sparkeion] He's the sun, you know.

NICE. Of course he is. I should catch my death of cold, in the night air, if he didn't accompany me.

SPAR. My dear Sillimon, it would never do for a young lady to be out alone all night. It wouldn't be respectable.

SILL. There's a good deal of truth in that. But still—the sun— at night—I don't like the idea. The original Diana always went out alone.

NICE. I hope the original Diana is no rule for me. After all, what does it matter?

SILL. To be sure—what does it matter?

SPAR. The sun at night, or in the daytime.

SILL. So that he shines. That's all that's necessary. [Exit Nicemis, R.U.E.] But poor Daphne, what will she say to this.

SPAR. Oh, Daphne can console herself; young ladies soon get over this sort of thing. Did you never hear of the young lady who was engaged to Cousin Robin?

SILL. Never.

SPAR. Then I'll sing it to you.

Little maid of Arcadee Sat on Cousin Robin's knee, Thought in form and face and limb, Nobody could rival him. He was brave and she was fair, Truth they made a pretty paid. Happy little maiden she— Happy maid of Arcadee.

Moments fled as moments will Happily enough, until After, say, a month or two, Robin did as Robins do. Weary of his lover's play, Jilted her and went away, Wretched little maiden, she— Wretched maid of Arcadee.

To her little home she crept, There she sat her down and wept, Maiden wept as maidens will— Grew so thin and pale—until Cousin Richard came to woo. Then again the roses grew. Happy little maiden she— Happy maid of Arcadee. [Exit Sparkeion]

SILL. Well Mercury, my boy, you've had a year's experience of us here. How do we do it? I think we're rather an improvement on the original gods—don't you?

MER. Well, you see, there's a good deal to be said on both sides of the question; you are certainly younger than the original gods, and, therefore, more active. On the other hand, they are certainly older than you, and have, therefore, more experience. On the whole I prefer you, because your mistakes amuse me.

Olympus is now in a terrible muddle, The deputy deities all are at fault They splutter and splash like a pig in a puddle And dickens a one of 'em's earning his salt. For Thespis as Jove is a terrible blunder, Too nervous and timid—too easy and weak— Whenever he's called on to lighten or thunder, The thought of it keeps him awake for a week.

Then mighty Mars hasn't the pluck of a parrot. When left in the dark he will quiver and quail; And Vulcan has arms that would snap like a carrot, Before he could drive in a tenpenny nail. Then Venus's freckles are very repelling, And Venus should not have a quint in her eyes; The learned Minerva is weak in her spelling, And scatters her h's all over the skies.

Then Pluto in kindhearted tenderness erring, Can't make up his mind to let anyone die— The Times has a paragraph ever recurring, "Remarkable incidence of longevity." On some it has some as a serious onus, to others it's quite an advantage—in short, While ev're life office declares a big bonus, The poor undertakers are all in the court.

Then Cupid, the rascal, forgetting his trade is To make men and women impartially smart, Will only shoot at pretty young ladies, And never takes aim at a bachelor's heart. The results of this freak—or whatever you term it— Should cover the wicked young scamp with disgrace, While ev'ry young man is as shy as a hermit, Young ladies are popping all over the place.

This wouldn't much matter—for bashful and shymen, When skillfully handled are certain to fall, But, alas, that determined young bachelor Hymen Refuses to wed anybody at all. He swears that Love's flame is the vilest of arsons, And looks upon marriage as quite a mistake; Now what in the world's to become of the parsons, And what of the artist who sugars the cake?

In short, you will see from the facts that I'm showing, The state of the case is exceedingly sad; If Thespis's people go on as they're going, Olympus will certainly go to the bad. From Jupiter downward there isn't a dab in it, All of 'em quibble and shuffle and shirk, A premier in Downing Street forming a cabinet, Couldn't find people less fit for their work.

[enter Thespis L.U.E.]

THES. Sillimon, you can retire.

SILL. Sir, I—

THES. Don't pretend you can't when I say you can. I've seen you do it—go. [exit Sillimon bowing extravagantly. Thespis imitates him]Well, Mercury, I've been in power one year today.

MER. One year today. How do you like ruling the world?

THES. Like it. Why it's as straightforward as possible. Why there hasn't been a hitch of any kind since we came up here. Lor' the airs you gods and goddesses give yourselves are perfectly sickening. Why it's mere child's play.

MER. Very simple isn't it?

THES. Simple? Why I could do it on my head.

MER. Ah—I darsay you will do it on your head very soon.

THES. What do you mean by that, Mercury?

MER. I mean that when you've turned the world quite topsy-turvy you won't know whether you're standing on your head or your heels.

THES. Well, but Mercury, it's all right at present.

MER. Oh yes—as far as we know.

THES. Well, but, you know, we know as much as anybody knows; you know I believe the world's still going on.

MER. Yes—as far as we can judge—much as usual.

THES. Well, the, give the Father of the Drama his due Mercury. Don't be envious of the Father of the Drama.

MER. But you see you leave so much to accident.

THES. Well, Mercury, if I do, it's my principle. I am an easy man, and I like to make things as pleasant as possible. What did I do the day we took office? Why I called the company together and I said to them: "Here we are, you know, gods and goddesses, no mistake about it, the real thing. Well, we have certain duties to discharge, let's discharge them intelligently. Don't let us be hampered by routine and red tape and precedent, let's set the original gods an example, and put a liberal interpretation on our duties. If it occurs to any one to try an experiment in his own department, let him try it, if he fails there's no harm done, if he succeeds it is a distinct gain to society. Don't hurry your work, do it slowly and well." And here we are after a twelvemonth and not a single complaint or a single petition has reached me.

MER. No, not yet.

THES. What do you mean by "no,not yet?"

MER. Well, you see, you don't understand things. All the petitions that are addressed by men to Jupiter pass through my hands, and its my duty to collect them and present them once a year.

THES. Oh, only once a year?

MER. Only once a year—

THES. And the year is up?

MER. Today.

THES. Oh, then I suppose there are some complaints?

MER. Yes, there are some.

THES. [Disturbed] Oh, perhaps there are a good many?

MER. There are a good many.

THES. Oh, perhaps there are a thundering lot?

MER. There are a thundering lot.

THES. [very much disturbed] Oh.

MER. You see you've been taking it so very easy—and so have most of your company.

THES. Oh, who has been taking it easy?

MER. Well, all except those who have been trying experiments.

THES. Well but I suppose the experiment are ingenious?

MER. Yes; they are ingenious, but on the whole ill-judged. But it's time go and summon your court.

THES. What for.

MER. To hear the complaints. In five minutes they will be here. [Exit]

THES. [very uneasy] I don't know how it is, but there is something in that young man's manner that suggests that the father of the gods has been taking it too easy. Perhaps it would have been better if I hadn't given my company so much scope. I wonder what they've been doing. I think I will curtail their discretion, though none of them appear to have much of the article. It seems a pity to deprive 'em of what little they have.

[Enter Daphne, weeping]

THES. Now then, Daphne, what's the matter with you?

DAPH. Well, you know how disgracefully Sparkeion—

THES. [correcting her] Apollo—

DAPH. Apollo, then—has treated me. He promised to marry me years ago and now he's married to Nicemis.

THES. Now look here. I can't go into that. You're in Olympus now and must behave accordingly. Drop your Daphne—assume your Calliope.

DAPH. Quite so. That's it. [mysteriously]

THES. Oh—that is it? [puzzled]

DAPH. That is it. Thespis. I am Calliope, the muse of fame. Very good. This morning I was in the Olympian library and I took down the only book there. Here it is.

THES. [taking it] Lempriere's Classical Dictionary. The Olympian Peerage.

DAPH. Open it at Apollo.

THES. [opens it] It is done.

DAPH. Read.

THES. "Apollo was several times married, among others to Issa, Bolina, Coronis, Chymene, Cyrene, Chione, Acacallis, and Calliope."

DAPH. And Calliope.

THES. [musing] Ha. I didn't know he was married to them.

DAPH. [severely] Sir. This is the family edition.

THES. Quite so.

DAPH. You couldn't expect a lady to read any other?

THES. On no consideration. But in the original version—

DAPH. I go by the family edition.

THES. Then by the family edition, Apollo is your husband.

[Enter Nicemis and Sparkeion]

NICE. Apollo your husband? He is my husband.

DAPH. I beg your pardon. He is my husband.

NICE. Apollo is Sparkeion, and he's married to me.

DAPH. Sparkeion is Apollo, and he's married to me.

NICE. He is my husband.

DAPH. He's your brother.

THES. Look here, Apollo, whose husband are you? Don't let's have any row about it; whose husband are you?