The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan

W >> William Schwenk Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan >> The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46

LUD. To me, sir?

RUD. I do, sir!

LUD. We'll see, sir!

RUD. I jeer, sir!
(Makes a face at LUDWIG.) Grimace, sir!

LUD. Look here, sir--
(Makes a face at RUDOLPH.) A face, sir!

CHORUS (appalled).
When two heroes, once pacific,
Quarrel, the effect's terrific!
What a horrible grimace!
What a paralysing face!

ALL. Big bombs, small bombs, etc.

LUD. and RUD. (recit.).
He has insulted me, and, in a breath,
This day we fight a duel to the death!

NOT. (checking them).
You mean, of course, by duel (verbum sat.),
A Statutory Duel.

ALL. Why, what's that?

NOT. According to established legal uses,
A card apiece each bold disputant chooses--
Dead as a doornail is the dog who loses--
The winner steps into the dead man's shoeses!

ALL. The winner steps into the dead man's shoeses!

RUD. and Lud. Agreed! Agreed!

RUD. Come, come--the pack!

LUD. (producing one). Behold it here!

RUD. I'm on the rack!

LUD. I quake with fear!

(NOTARY offers card to LUDWIG.)

LUD. First draw to you!

RUD. If that's the case,
Behold the King! (Drawing card from his sleeve.)

LUD. (same business). Behold the Ace!

CHORUS. Hurrah, hurrah! Our Ludwig's won
And wicked Rudolph's course is run--
So Ludwig will as Grand Duke reign
Till Rudolph comes to life again--

RUD. Which will occur to-morrow!
I come to life to-morrow!

GRET. (with mocking curtsey).
My Lord Grand Duke, farewell!
A pleasant journey, very,
To your convenient cell
In yonder cemetery!

LISA (curtseying).
Though malcontents abuse you,
We're much distressed to lose you!
You were, when you were living,
So liberal, so forgiving!

BERTHA. So merciful, so gentle!
So highly ormamental!

OLGA. And now that you've departed,
You leave us broken-hearted!

ALL (pretending to weep). Yes, truly, truly, truly, truly--
Truly broken-hearted!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! (Mocking him.)

RUD. (furious). Rapscallions, in penitential fires,
You'll rue the ribaldry that from you falls!
To-morrow afternoon the law expires.
And then--look out for squalls!
[Exit RUDOLPH, amid general
ridicule.

CHORUS. Give thanks, give thanks to wayward fate--
By mystic fortune's sway,
Our Ludwig guides the helm of State
For one delightful day!

(To LUDWIG.) We hail you, sir!
We greet you, sir!
Regale you, sir!
We treat you, sir!
Our ruler be
By fate's decree
For one delightful day!

NOT. You've done it neatly! Pity that your powers
Are limited to four-and-twenty hours!

LUD. No matter, though the time will quickly run,
In hours twenty-four much may be done!

SONG--LUDWIG.

Oh, a Monarch who boasts intellectual graces
Can do, if he likes, a good deal in a day--
He can put all his friends in conspicuous places,
With plenty to eat and with nothing to pay!
You'll tell me, no doubt, with unpleasant grimaces,
To-morrow, deprived of your ribbons and laces,
You'll get your dismissal--with very long faces--
But wait! on that topic I've something to say!
(Dancing.) I've something to say--I've something to
say--I've something to say!
Oh, our rule shall be merry--I'm not an ascetic--
And while the sun shines we will get up our hay--
By a pushing young Monarch, of turn energetic,
A very great deal may be done in a day!

CHORUS. Oh, his rule will be merry, etc.

(During this, LUDWIG whispers to NOTARY, who writes.)

For instance, this measure (his ancestor drew it),
(alluding to NOTARY)
This law against duels--to-morrow will die--
The Duke will revive, and you'll certainly rue it--
He'll give you "what for" and he'll let you know why!
But in twenty-four hours there's time to renew it--
With a century's life I've the right to imbue it--
It's easy to do--and, by Jingo, I'll do it!

(Signing paper, which NOTARY presents.)

It's done! Till I perish your Monarch am I!
Your Monarch am I--your Monarch am I--your Monarch am I!
Though I do not pretend to be very prophetic,
I fancy I know what you're going to say--
By a pushing young Monarch, of turn energetic,
A very great deal may be done in a day!

ALL (astonished).
Oh, it's simply uncanny, his power prophetic--
It's perfectly right--we were going to say,
By a pushing, etc.

Enter JULIA, at back.

LUD. (recit.). This very afternoon--at two (about)--
The Court appointments will be given out.
To each and all (for that was the condition)
According to professional position!

ALL. Hurrah!

JULIA (coming forward). According to professional position?

LUD. According to professional position!

JULIA Then, horror!

ALL. Why, what's the matter? What's the matter? What's the
matter ?

SONG--JULIA. (LISA clinging to her.)
Ah, pity me, my comrades true,
Who love, as well I know you do,
This gentle child,
To me so fondly dear!

ALL. Why, what's the matter?

JULIA Our sister love so true and deep
From many an eye unused to weep
Hath oft beguiled
The coy reluctant tear!

ALL. Why, what's the matter?

JULIA Each sympathetic heart 'twill bruise
When you have heard the frightful news
(O will it not?)
That I must now impart!

ALL. Why, what's the matter?

JULIA. Her love for him is all in all!
Ah, cursed fate! that it should fall
Unto my lot
To break my darling's heart!

ALL. Why, what's the matter?

LUD. What means our Julia by those fateful looks?
Please do not keep us all on tenter-hooks-
Now, what's the matter?

JULIA. Our duty, if we're wise,
We never shun.
This Spartan rule applies
To every one.
In theatres, as in life,
Each has her line--
This part--the Grand Duke's wife
(Oh agony!) is mine!
A maxim new I do not start--
The canons of dramatic art
Decree that this repulsive part
(The Grand Duke's wife)
Is mine!

ALL. Oh, that's the matter!

LISA (appalled, to LUDWIG). Can that be so?

LUD. I do not know--
But time will show
If that be so.

CHORUS. Can that be so? etc.

LISA (recit.). Be merciful!

DUET--LISA and JULIA.

LISA. Oh, listen to me, dear--
I love him only, darling!
Remember, oh, my pet,
On him my heart is set
This kindness do me, dear-
Nor leave me lonely, darling!
Be merciful, my pet,
Our love do not forget!

JULIA. Now don't be foolish, dear--
You couldn't play it, darling!
It's "leading business", pet
And you're but a soubrette.
So don't be mulish, dear-
Although I say it, darling,
It's not your line, my pet--
I play that part, you bet!
I play that part--
I play that part, you bet!

(LISA overwhelmed with grief.)

NOT. The lady's right. Though Julia's engagement
Was for the stage meant--
It certainly frees Ludwig from his
Connubial promise.
Though marriage contracts--or whate'er you call 'em--
Are very solemn,
Dramatic contracts (which you all adore so)
Are even more so!

ALL. That's very true!
Though marriage contracts, etc.

SONG--LISA.

The die is cast,
My hope has perished!
Farewell, O Past,
Too bright to last,
Yet fondly cherished!
My light has fled,
My hope is dead,
Its doom is spoken--
My day is night,
My wrong is right
In all men's sight--
My heart is broken!
[Exit
weeping.

LUD. (recit.). Poor child, where will she go? What will she
do?

JULIA. That isn't in your part, you know.

LUD. (sighing). Quite true!
(With an effort.) Depressing topics we'll not touch upon--
Let us begin as we are going on!
For this will be a jolly Court, for little and for big!

ALL. Sing hey, the jolly jinks of Pfennig Halbpfennig!

LUD. From morn to night our lives shall be as merry as a grig!

ALL. Sing hey, the jolly jinks of Pfennig Halbpfennig!

LUD. All state and ceremony we'll eternally abolish--
We don't mean to insist upon unnecessary polish--
And, on the whole, I rather think you'll find our rule
tollolish!
ALL. Sing hey, the jolly jinks of Pfennig Halbpfennig!

JULIA. But stay--your new-made Court
Without a courtly coat is--
We shall require
Some Court attire,
And at a moment's notice.
In clothes of common sort
Your courtiers must not grovel--
Your new noblesse
Must have a dress
Original and novel!

LUD. Old Athens we'll exhume!
The necessary dresses,
Correct and true
And all brand-new,
The company possesses:
Henceforth our Court costume
Shall live in song and story,
For we'll upraise
The dead old days
Of Athens in her glory!

ALL. Yes, let's upraise
The dead old days
Of Athens in her glory!

ALL. Agreed! Agreed!
For this will be a jolly Court for little and for big! etc

(They carry LUDWIG round stage and deposit him on the ironwork of
well. JULIA stands by him, and the rest group round them.)

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

(THE NEXT MORNING.)

SCENE.--Entrance Hall of the Grand Ducal Palace.

Enter a procession of the members of the theatrical company (now
dressed in the costumes of Troilus and Cressida), carrying
garlands, playing on pipes, citharae, and cymbals, and
heralding the return of LUDWIG and JULIA from the marriage
ceremony, which has just taken place.

CHORUS.

As before you we defile,
Eloia! Eloia!
Pray you, gentles, do not smile
If we shout, in classic style,
Eloia!
Ludwig and his Julia true
Wedded are each other to--
So we sing, till all is blue,
Eloia! Eloia!
Opoponax! Eloia!

Wreaths of bay and ivy twine,
Eloia! Eloia!
Fill the bowl with Lesbian wine,
And to revelry incline--
Eloia!

For as gaily we pass on
Probably we shall, anon,
Sing a Diergeticon--
Eloia! Eloia!
Opoponax! Eloia!

RECIT.--LUDWIG.

Your loyalty our Ducal heartstrings touches:
Allow me to present your new Grand Duchess.
Should she offend, you'll graciously excuse her--
And kindly recollect I didn't choose her!

SONG--LUDWIG.

At the outset I may mention it's my sovereign intention
To revive the classic memories of Athens at its best,
For the company possesses all the necessary dresses
And a course of quiet cramming will supply us with the
rest.
We've a choir hyporchematic (that is, ballet-operatic)
Who respond to the choreut of that cultivated age,
And our clever chorus-master, all but captious criticaster
Would accept as the choregus of the early Attic stage.
This return to classic ages is considered in their wages,
Which are always calculated by the day or by the week--
And I'll pay 'em (if they'll back me) all in oboloi and drachm,
Which they'll get (if they prefer it) at the Kalends that
are Greek!

(Confidentially to audience.)
At this juncture I may mention
That this erudition sham
Is but classical pretension,
The result of steady "cram.":
Periphrastic methods spurning,
To this audience discerning
I admit this show of learning
Is the fruit of steady "cram."!

CHORUS. Periphrastic methods, etc.

In the period Socratic every dining-room was Attic
(Which suggests an architecture of a topsy-turvy kind),
There they'd satisfy their thirst on a recherche cold {Greek
word}
Which is what they called their lunch--and so may you if
you're inclined.
As they gradually got on, they'd {four Greek words)
(Which is Attic for a steady and a conscientious drink).
But they mixed their wine with water--which I'm sure they didn't
oughter--
And we modern Saxons know a trick worth two of that, I
think!
Then came rather risky dances (under certain circumstances)
Which would shock that worthy gentleman, the Licenser of
Plays,
Corybantian maniac kick--Dionysiac or Bacchic--
And the Dithyrambic revels of those undecorous days.

(Confidentially to audience.)
And perhaps I'd better mention,
Lest alarming you I am,
That it isn't our intention
To perform a Dithyramb--
It displays a lot of stocking,
Which is always very shocking,
And of course I'm only mocking
At the prevalence of "cram"!

CHORUS. It displays a lot, etc.

Yes, on reconsideration, there are customs of that nation
Which are not in strict accordance with the habits of our
day,
And when I come to codify, their rules I mean to modify,
Or Mrs. Grundy, p'r'aps, may have a word or two to say.
For they hadn't macintoshes or umbrellas or goloshes--
And a shower with their dresses must have played the very
deuce,
And it must have been unpleasing when they caught a fit of
sneezing,
For, it seems, of pocket-handkerchiefs they didn't know the
use.
They wore little underclothing--scarcely anything--or nothing--
And their dress of Coan silk was quite transparent in
design--
Well, in fact, in summer weather, something like the "altogether"
And it's there, I rather fancy, I shall have to draw the
line!

(Confidentially to audience.)
And again I wish to mention
That this erudition sham
Is but classical pretension,
The result of steady "cram."
Yet my classic lore aggressive
(If you'll pardon the possessive)
Is exceedingly impressive
When you're passing an exam.

CHORUS. Yet his classic lore, etc.

[Exeunt Chorus. Manent LUDWIG, JULIA, and LISA.

LUD. (recit.).
Yes, Ludwig and his Julia are mated!
For when an obscure comedian, whom the law backs,
To sovereign rank is promptly elevated,
He takes it with its incidental drawbacks!
So Julia and I are duly mated!

(LISA, through this, has expressed intense distress at
having to surrender LUDWIG.)

SONG--LISA.

Take care of him--he's much too good to live,
With him you must be very gentle:
Poor fellow, he's so highly sensitive,
And O, so sentimental!
Be sure you never let him sit up late
In chilly open air conversing--
Poor darling, he's extremely delicate,
And wants a deal of nursing!

LUD. I want a deal of nursing!

LISA. And O, remember this--
When he is cross with pain,
A flower and a kiss--
A simple flower--a tender kiss
Will bring him round again!

His moods you must assiduously watch:
When he succumbs to sorrow tragic,
Some hardbake or a bit of butter-scotch
Will work on him like magic.
To contradict a character so rich
In trusting love were simple blindness--
He's one of those exalted natures which
Will only yield to kindness!

LUD. I only yield to kindness!

LISA. And O, the bygone bliss!
And O, the present pain!
That flower and that kiss--
That simple flower--that tender kiss
I ne'er shall give again!

[Exit,
weeping.

JULIA. And now that everybody has gone, and we're happily
and comfortably married, I want to have a few words with my
new-born husband.
LUD. (aside). Yes, I expect you'll often have a few words
with your new-born husband! (Aloud.) Well, what is it?
JULIA. Why, I've been thinking that as you and I have to
play our parts for life, it is most essential that we should come
to a definite understanding as to how they shall be rendered.
Now, I've been considering how I can make the most of the Grand
Duchess.
LUD. Have you? Well, if you'll take my advice, you'll
make
a very fine part of it.
JULIA. Why, that's quite my idea.
LUD. I shouldn't make it one of your hoity-toity vixenish
viragoes.
JULIA. You think not?
LUD. Oh, I'm quite clear about that. I should make her a
tender, gentle, submissive, affectionate (but not too
affectionate) child-wife--timidly anxious to coil herself into
her husband's heart, but kept in check by an awestruck reverence
for his exalted intellectual qualities and his majestic personal
appearance.
JULIA. Oh, that is your idea of a good part?
LUD. Yes--a wife who regards her husband's slightest wish
as an inflexible law, and who ventures but rarely into his august
presence, unless (which would happen seldom) he should summon her
to appear before him. A crushed, despairing violet, whose
blighted existence would culminate (all too soon) in a lonely and
pathetic death-scene! A fine part, my dear.
JULIA. Yes. There's a good deal to be said for your view
of it. Now there are some actresses whom it would fit like a
glove.
LUD. (aside). I wish I'd married one of 'em!
JULIA. But, you see, I must consider my temperament. For
instance, my temperament would demand some strong scenes of
justifiable jealousy.
LUD. Oh, there's no difficulty about that. You shall have
them.
JULIA. With a lovely but detested rival--
LUD. Oh, I'll provide the rival.
JULIA. Whom I should stab--stab--stab!
LUD. Oh, I wouldn't stab her. It's been done to death. I
should treat her with a silent and contemptuous disdain, and
delicately withdraw from a position which, to one of your
sensitive nature, would be absolutely untenable. Dear me, I can
see you delicately withdrawing, up centre and off!
JULIA. Can you?
LUD. Yes. It's a fine situation--and in your hands, full
of quiet pathos!

DUET--LUDWIG and JULIA.

LUD. Now Julia, come,
Consider it from
This dainty point of view--
A timid tender
Feminine gender,
Prompt to coyly coo--
Yet silence seeking,
Seldom speaking
Till she's spoken to--
A comfy, cosy,
Rosy-posy
Innocent ingenoo!
The part you're suited to--
(To give the deuce her due)
A sweet (O, jiminy!)
Miminy-piminy,
Innocent ingenoo!

ENSEMBLE.

LUD. JULIA.

The part you're suited to-- I'm much obliged to you,
(To give the deuce her due) I don't think that would do--
A sweet (O, jiminy!) To play (O, jiminy!)
Miminy-piminy, Miminy-piminy,
Innocent ingenoo! Innocent ingenoo!

JULIA. You forget my special magic
(In a high dramatic sense)
Lies in situations tragic--
Undeniably intense.
As I've justified promotion
In the histrionic art,
I'll submit to you my notion
Of a first-rate part.

LUD. Well, let us see your notion
Of a first-rate part.

JULIA (dramatically).
I have a rival! Frenzy-thrilled,
I find you both together!
My heart stands still--with horror chilled---
Hard as the millstone nether!
Then softly, slyly, snaily, snaky--
Crawly, creepy, quaily, quaky--
I track her on her homeward way,
As panther tracks her fated prey!

(Furiously.) I fly at her soft white throat--
The lily-white laughing leman!
On her agonized gaze I gloat
With the glee of a dancing demon!
My rival she--I have no doubt of her---
So I hold on--till the breath is out of her!
--till the breath is out of her!

And then--Remorse! Remorse!
O cold unpleasant corse,
Avaunt! Avaunt!
That lifeless form
I gaze upon--
That face, still warm
But weirdly wan--
Those eyes of glass
I contemplate--
And then, alas!
Too late--too late!
I find she is--your Aunt!
(Shuddering.) Remorse! Remorse!

Then, mad--mad--mad!
With fancies wild--chimerical--
Now sorrowful--silent--sad--
Now hullaballoo hysterical!
Ha! ha! ha! ha!
But whether I'm sad or whether I'm glad,
Mad! mad! mad! mad!

This calls for the resources of a high-class art,
And satisfies my notion of a first-rate part!

[Exit JULIA

Enter all the Chorus, hurriedly, and in great excitement.

CHORUS.

Your Highness, there's a party at the door--
Your Highness, at the door there is a party--
She says that we expect her,
But we do not recollect her,
For we never saw her countenance before!

With rage and indignation she is rife,
Because our welcome wasn't very hearty--
She's as sulky as a super,
And she's swearing like a trooper,
O, you never heard such language in your life!

Enter BARONESS VON KRAKENFELDT, in a fury.

BAR. With fury indescribable I burn!
With rage I'm nearly ready to explode!
There'll be grief and tribulation when I learn
To whom this slight unbearable is owed!
For whatever may be due I'll pay it double--
There'll be terror indescribable and trouble!
With a hurly-burly and a hubble-bubble
I'll pay you for this pretty episode!

ALL. Oh, whatever may be due she'll pay it double!--
It's very good of her to take the trouble--
But we don't know what she means by "hubble-bubble"--
No doubt it's an expression la mode.

BAR. (to LUDWIG).
Do you know who I am?

LUD. (examining her). I don't;
Your countenance I can't fix, my dear.

BAR. This proves I'm not a sham.
(Showing pocket-handkerchief.)

LUD. (examining it). It won't;
It only says "Krakenfeldt, Six," my dear.