The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan
by W.S. Gilbert
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman
Return to Part 3 of 4

Phantis: But the crowning joke is the Comic Opera you've written
for
          us--"King Tuppence, or A Good Deal Less than Half a
Sover-
          eign"--in which the celebrated English tenor, Mr.
Wilkinson,
          burlesques your personal appearance and gives grotesque
          imitations of your Royal peculiarities. It's immense!

King:    Ye--es--That's what I wanted to speak to you about. Now
          I've not the least doubt but that even that has its
humorous
          side too--if one could only see it. As a rule I'm pretty
          quick at detecting latent humor--but I confess I do not
          quite see where it comes in, in this particular instance.
          It's so horribly personal!

Scaphio: Personal? Yes, of course it's personal--but consider the
          antithetical humor of the situation.

King:    Yes. I--I don't think I've quite grasped that.

Scaphio: No? You surprise me. Why, consider. During the day
thou-
          sands tremble at your frown, during the night (from 8 to
11)
          thousands roar at it. During the day your most arbitrary
          pronouncements are received by your subjects with abject
          submission--during the night, they shout with joy at your
          most terrible decrees. It's not every monarch who enjoys
          the privilege of undoing by night all the despotic
absurdi-
          ties he's committed during the day.

King:    Of course! Now I see it! Thank you very much. I was
sure
          it had its humorous side, and it was very dull of me not
to
          have seen it before. But, as I said just now, it's a
quaint
          world.

Phantis: Teems with quiet fun.

King:    Yes. Properly considered, what a farce life is, to be
sure!

                             SONG -- King.

          First you're born--and I'll be bound you
          Find a dozen strangers round you.
          "Hallo," cries the new-born baby,
          "Where's my parents? which may they be?"
               Awkward silence--no reply--
               Puzzled baby wonders why!
          Father rises, bows politely--
          Mother smiles (but not too brightly)--
          Doctor mumbles like a dumb thing--
          Nurse is busy mixing something.--
               Every symptom tends to show
               You're decidedly de trop--

All:               Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
                         Time's teetotum,
                              If you spin it,
                         Gives it quotum
                              Once a minute.
                         I'll go bail
                         You hit the nail,
                         And if you fail,
                              The deuce is in it!

King:    You grow up and you discover
          What it is to be a lover.
          Some young lady is selected--
          Poor, perhaps, but well-connected.
               Whom you hail (for Love is blind)
               As the Queen of fairy kind.
          Though she's plain--perhaps unsightly,
          Makes her face up--laces tightly,
          In her form your fancy traces
          All the gifts of all the graces.
               Rivals none the maiden woo,
               So you take her and she takes you.

All:     Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
               Joke beginning,
                    Never ceases
               Till your inning
                    Time releases,
               On your way
               You blindly stray,
               And day by day
                    The joke increases!

King:    Ten years later--Time progresses--
          Sours your temper--thins your tresses;
          Fancy, then, her chain relaxes;
          Rates are facts and so are taxes.
               Fairy Queen's no longer young--
               Fairy Queen has got a tongue.
          Twins have probably intruded--
          Quite unbidden--just as you did--
          They're a source of care and trouble--
          Just as you were--only double.
               Comes at last the final stroke--
               Time has had its little joke!

All:     Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
               Daily driven
                    (Wife as drover)
               Ill you've thriven--
                    Ne'er in clover;
               Lastly, when
               Three-score and ten
               (And not till then),
                    The joke is over!
          Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
               Then--and then
                    The joke is over!

                                         (Exeunt Scaphio and
Phantis.)

King:    (putting on his crown again)  It's all very well. I
always
          like to look on the humorous side of things; but I do not
          think I ought to be required to write libels on my own
moral
          character. Naturally, I see the joke of it--anybody
          would--but Zara's coming home today; she's no longer a
          child, and I confess I should not like her to see my
          Opera--though it's uncommonly well written; and I should
be
          sorry if the Palace Peeper got into her hands--though
it's
          certainly smart--very smart indeed. It is almost a pity
          that I have to buy up the whole edition, because it's
really
          too good to be lost. And Lady Sophy--that blameless type
of
          perfect womanhood! Great Heavens, what would she say if
the
          Second Housemaid business happened to meet her pure blue
          eye! (Enter Lady Sophy)

Lady S.: My monarch is soliloquizing. I will withdraw. (going)

King:    No--pray don't go. Now I'll give you fifty chances, and
you
          won't guess whom I was thinking of.

Lady S.: Alas, sir, I know too well. Ah! King, it's an old, old
          story, and I'm wellnigh weary of it! Be warned in
          time--from my heart I pity you, but I am not for you!
          (going)

King:    But hear what I have to say.

Lady S.: It is useless. Listen. In the course of a long and
adven-
          turous career in the principal European Courts, it has
been
          revealed to me that I unconsciously exercise a weird and
          supernatural fascination over all Crowned Heads. So
irre-
          sistible is this singular property, that there is not a
          European Monarch who has not implored me, with tears in
his
          eyes, to quit his kingdom, and take my fatal charms else-
          where. As time was getting on it occurred to me that by
          descending several pegs in the scale of Respectability I
          might qualify your Majesty for my hand. Actuated by this
          humane motive and happening to possess Respectability
enough
          for Six, I consented to confer Respectability enough for
          Four upon your two younger daughters--but although I
have,
          alas, only Respectability enough for Two left, there is
          still, as I gather from the public press of this country
          (producing the Palace Peeper), a considerable balance in
my
          favor.

King:    (aside)  Damn! (aloud)  May I ask how you came by this?

Lady S.: It was handed to me by the officer who holds the position
of
          Public Exploder to your Imperial Majesty.

King:    And surely, Lady Sophy, surely you are not so unjust as
to
          place any faith in the irresponsible gabble of the
Society
          press!

Lady S.: (referring to paper)  I read on the authority of Senex
          Senior that your Majesty was seen dancing with your
Second
          Housemaid on the Oriental Platform of the Tivoli Gardens.
          That is untrue?

King:    Absolutely. Our Second Housemaid has only one leg.

Lady S.: (suspiciously)  How do you know that?

King:    Common report. I give you my honor.

Lady S.: It may be so. I further read--and the statement is
vouched
          for by no less an authority that Mephistopheles
Minor--that
          your Majesty indulges in a bath of hot rum-punch every
          morning. I trust I do not lay myself open to the charge
of
          displaying an indelicate curiosity as to the mysteries of
          the royal dressing-room when I ask if there is any
founda-
          tion for this statement?

King:    None whatever. When our medical adviser exhibits
rum-punch
          it is as a draught, not as a fomentation. As to our
bath,
          our valet plays the garden hose upon us every morning.

Lady S.: (shocked)  Oh, pray--pray spare me these unseemly
details.
          Well, you are a Despot--have you taken steps to slay this
          scribbler?

King:    Well, no--I have not gone so far as that. After all,
it's
          the poor devil's living, you know.

Lady S.: It is the poor devil's living that surprises me. If this
          man lies, there is no recognized punishment that is
suffi-
          ciently terrible for him.

King:    That's precisely it. I--I am waiting until a punishment
is
          discovered that will exactly meet the enormity of the
case.
          I am in constant communication with the Mikado of Japan,
who
          is a leading authority on such points; and, moreover, I
have
          the ground plans and sectional elevations of several
capital
          punishments in my desk at this moment. Oh, Lady Sophy,
as
          you are powerful, be merciful!

                     DUET -- King and Lady Sophy.

King:         Subjected to your heavenly gaze
                         (Poetical phrase),
                    My brain is turned completely.
                         Observe me now
                         No monarch I vow,
                              Was ever so afflicted!

Lady S:       I'm pleased with that poetical phrase,
                         "A heavenly gaze,"
                    But though you put it neatly,
                         Say what you will,
                         These paragraphs still
                              Remain uncontradicted.

               Come, crush me this contemptible worm
                         (A forcible term),
                    If he's assailed you wrongly.
                         The rage display,
                         Which, as you say,
                              Has moved your Majesty lately.

King:         Though I admit that forcible term
                         "Contemptible worm,"
               Appeals to me most strongly,
                    To treat this pest
                    As you suggest
                         Would pain my Majesty greatly.

Lady S:            This writer lies!
King:              Yes, bother his eyes!
Lady S:            He lives, you say?
King:              In a sort of way.
Lady S:            Then have him shot.
King:              Decidedly not.
Lady S:            Or crush him flat.
King:              I cannot do that.
Both:              O royal Rex,
                    My/her blameless sex
                    Abhors such conduct shady.
                    You/I plead in vain,
                    I/you will never gain
                    Respectable English lady!

         (Dance of repudiation by Lady Sophy. Exit followed by
King.)

March. Enter all the Court, heralding the arrival of the Princess
Zara,
     who enters, escorted by Captain Fitzbattleaxe and four
Troopers, all
     in the full uniform of the First Life Guards.

                                CHORUS.

                         Oh, maiden, rich
                              In Girton lore
                         That wisdom which,
                              We prized before,
                         We do confess
                         Is nothingness,
                         And rather less,
                              Perhaps, than more.
                         On each of us
                              Thy learning shed.
                         On calculus
                              May we be fed.
                         And teach us, please,
                         To speak with ease,
                         All languages,
                              Alive and dead!

                   SOLO--Princess and Chorus

Zara:         Five years have flown since I took wing--
                    Time flies, and his footstep ne'er retards--
               I'm the eldest daughter of your King.

Troop:        And we are her escort--First Life Guards!
               On the royal yacht,
                    When the waves were white,
               In a helmet hot
                    And a tunic tight,
               And our great big boots,
                    We defied the storm;
               For we're not recruits,
                    And his uniform
               A well drilled trooper ne'er discards--
               And we are her escort--First Life Guards!

Zara:         These gentlemen I present to you,
                    The pride and boast of their barrack-yards;
               They've taken, O! such care of me!

Troop:        For we are her escort--First Life Guards!
               When the tempest rose,
                    And the ship went so--
               Do you suppose
                    We were ill? No, no!
               Though a qualmish lot
                    In a tunic tight,
               And a helmet hot,
                    And a breastplate bright
               (Which a well-drilled trooper ne'er discards),
               We stood as her escort--First Life Guards!

                             CHORUS

          Knightsbridge nursemaids--serving fairies--
          Stars of proud Belgravian airies;
          At stern duty's call you leave them,
          Though you know how that must grieve them!

Zara:    Tantantarara-rara-rara!

Fitz:    Trumpet-call of Princess Zara!

Cho:     That's trump-call, and they're all trump cards--
          They are her escort--First Life Guards!

                            ENSEMBLE

             Chorus                    Princess Zara and
Fitzbattleaxe

            Ladies                     Oh! the hours are gold,
                                       And the joys untold,
Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc.        When my eyes behold
                                            My beloved Princess;
            Men                        And the years will seem
When the tempest rose, etc.           But a brief day-dream,
                                       In the joy extreme
                                            Of our happiness!

Full Chorus: Knightsbridge nursemaids, serving fairies, etc.

(Enter King, Princess Nekaya and Kalyba, and Lady Sophy. As the
King enters,
     the escort present arms.)

King:    Zara! my beloved daughter! Why, how well you look and
how
          lovely you have grown! (embraces her.)

Zara:    My dear father! (embracing him)  And my two beautiful
          little sisters! (embracing them)

Nekaya:  Not beautiful.

Kalyba:  Nice-looking.

Zara:    But first let me present to you the English warrior who
          commands my escort, and who has taken, O! such care of me
          during my voyage--Captain Fitzbattleaxe!

Troopers:     The First Life Guards.
               When the tempest rose,
               And the ship went so--

(Captain Fitzbattleaxe motions them to be silent. The Troopers
place
     themselves in the four corners of the stage, standing at ease,
     immovably, as if on sentry. Each is surrounded by an admiring
     group of young ladies, of whom they take no notice.)

King:    (to Capt. Fitz.)  Sir, you come from a country where
every
          virtue flourishes. We trust that you will not criticize
too
          severely such shortcomings as you may detect in our
          semi-barbarous society.

Fitz.:   (looking at Zara)  Sir, I have eyes for nothing but the
          blameless and the beautiful.

King:    We thank you--he is really very polite! (Lady Sophy, who
has
          been greatly scandalized by the attentions paid to the
          Lifeguardsmen by the young ladies, marches the Princesses
          Nekaya and Kalyba towards an exit.)  Lady Sophy, do not
leave
          us.

Lady S.: Sir, your children are young, and, so far, innocent. If
          they are to remain so, it is necessary that they be at
once
          removed from the contamination of their present
disgraceful
          surroundings. (She marches them off.)

King:    (whose attention has thus been called to the proceedings
of
          the young ladies--aside)  Dear, dear! They really
should-
          n't. (Aloud)  Captain Fitzbattleaxe--

Fitz.:   Sir.

King:    Your Troopers appear to be receiving a troublesome amount
of
          attention from those young ladies. I know how strict you
          English soldiers are, and I should be extremely
distressed
          if anything occurred to shock their puritanical British
          sensitiveness.

Fitz.:   Oh, I don't think there's any chance of that.

King:    You think not? They won't be offended?

Fitz.:   Oh no! They are quite hardened to it. They get a good
deal
          of that sort of thing, standing sentry at the Horse
Guards.

King:    It's English, is it?

Fitz.:   It's particularly English.

King:    Then, of course, it's all right. Pray proceed, ladies,
it's
          particularly English. Come, my daughter, for we have
much
          to say to each other.

Zara:    Farewell, Captain Fitzbattleaxe! I cannot thank you too
em-
          phatically for the devoted care with which you have
watched
          over me during our long and eventful voyage.

                DUET -- Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe.

Zara:         Ah! gallant soldier, brave and true
                    In tented field and tourney,
               I grieve to have occasioned you
                    So very long a journey.
               A British warrior give up all--
                    His home and island beauty--
               When summoned to the trumpet call
                    Of Regimental Duty!

Cho:          Tantantara-rara-rara!
               Trumpet call of the Princess Zara!

                            ENSEMBLE

            Men                         Fitz. and Zara (aside)

A British warrior gives up all, etc.   Oh my joy, my pride,
                                        My delight to hide,
                                        Let us sing, aside,
          Ladies                             What in truth we feel,
                                        Let us whisper low
Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc.         Of our love's glad glow,
                                        Lest the truth we show
                                             We would fain conceal.

Fitz.:        Such escort duty, as his due,
                    To young Lifeguardsman falling
               Completely reconciles him to
                    His uneventful calling.
               When soldier seeks Utopian glades
                    In charge of Youth and Beauty,
               Then pleasure merely masquerades
                    As Regimental Duty!

All:          Tantantarara-rara-rara!
               Trumpet-call of Princess Zara!

                            ENSEMBLE

            Men                         Fitz. and Zara (aside)

A British warrior gives up all, etc.   Oh! my hours are gold,
                                        And the joys untold,
                                        When my eyes behold
          Ladies                             My beloved Princess;
                                        And the years will seem
Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc.         But a brief day-dream,
                                        In the job extreme
                                             Of our happiness!

(Exeunt King and Zara in one direction, Lifeguardsmen and crowd in
     opposite direction. Enter, at back, Scaphio and Phantis, who
watch
     Zara as she goes off. Scaphio is seated, shaking violently,
and
     obviously under the influence of some strong emotion.)

Phantis: There--tell me, Scaphio, is she not beautiful? Can you
          wonder that I love her so passionately?

Scaphio: No. She is extraordinarily--miraculously lovely! Good
          heavens, what a singularly beautiful girl!

Phantis: I knew you would say so!

Scaphio: What exquisite charm of manner! What surprising delicacy
of
          gesture! Why, she's a goddess! a very goddess!

Phantis: (rather taken aback)  Yes--she's--she's an attractive
girl.

Scaphio: Attractive? Why, you must be blind!--She's
          entrancing--enthralling--intoxicating! (Aside)  God
bless
          my heart, what's the matter with me?

Phantis: (alarmed)  Yes. You--you promised to help me to get her
          father's consent, you know.

Scaphio: Promised! Yes, but the convulsion has come, my good boy!
          It is she--my ideal! Why, what's this? (Staggering)
          Phantis! Stop me--I'm going mad--mad with the love of
her!

Phantis: Scaphio, compose yourself, I beg. The girl is perfectly
          opaque! Besides, remember--each of us is helpless
without
          the other. You can't succeed without my consent, you
know.

Scaphio: And you dare to threaten? Oh, ungrateful! When you came
to
          me, palsied with love for this girl, and implored my
assis-
          tance, did I not unhesitatingly promise it? And this is
the
          return you make? Out of my sight, ingrate! (Aside)
Dear!
          dear! what is the matter with me? (Enter Capt.
Fitzbattleaxe
          and Zara)

Zara:    Dear me. I'm afraid we are interrupting a tete-a-tete.

Scaphio: (breathlessly)  No, no. You come very appropriately. To
be
          brief, we--we love you--this man and
I--madly--passionately!

Zara:    Sir!

Scaphio: And we don't know how we are to settle which of us is to
          marry you.

Fitz.:   Zara, this is very awkward.

Scaphio: (very much overcome)  I--I am paralyzed by the singular
          radiance of your extraordinary loveliness. I know I am
          incoherent. I never was like this before--it shall not
          occur again. I--shall be fluent, presently.

Zara:    (aside)  Oh, dear, Captain Fitzbattleaxe, what is to be
          done?

Fitz.:   (aside)  Leave it to me--I'll manage it. (Aloud)  It's
a
          common situation. Why not settle it in the English
fashion?

Both:    The English fashion? What is that?

Fitz.:   It's very simple. In England, when two gentlemen are in
          love with the same lady, and until it is settled which
          gentleman is to blow out the brains of the other, it is
          provided, by the Rival Admirers' Clauses Consolidation
Act,
          that the lady shall be entrusted to an officer of
Household
          Cavalry as stakeholder, who is bound to hand her over to
the
          survivor (on the Tontine principle) in a good condition
of
          substantial and decorative repair.

Scaphio: Reasonable wear and tear and damages by fire excepted?

Fitz.:   Exactly.

Phantis: Well, that seems very reasonable. (To Scaphio)  What do
you
          say--Shall we entrust her to this officer of Household
          Cavalry? It will give us time.

Scaphio: (trembling violently)  I--I am not at present in a
condition
          to think it out coolly--but if he is an officer of
Household
          Cavalry, and if the Princess consents---

Zara:    Alas, dear sirs, I have no alternative--under the Rival
          Admirers' Clauses Consolidation Act!

Fitz.:   Good--then that's settled.

                                QUARTET
              Fitzbattleaxe, Zara, Scaphio, and Phantis.

Fitz.:        It's understood, I think, all round
               That, by the English custom bound
               I hold the lady safe and sound
                    In trust for either rival,
               Until you clearly testify
               By sword and pistol, by and by,
               Which gentleman prefers to die,
                    And which prefers survival.

                            ENSEMBLE

         Sca. and Phan.                      Zara and Fitz

Its clearly understood all round     We stand, I think, on safish
ground
That, by your English custom bound   Our senses weak it will
astound
He holds the lady safe and sound     If either gentleman is found
  In trust for either rival,            Prepared to meet his rival.
Until we clearly testify             Their machinations we defy;
By sword or pistol, by and by        We won't be parted, you and
I--
Which gentleman prefers to die,      Of bloodshed each is rather
shy--
  Which prefers survival.             They both prefer survival

Phan.:             If I should die and he should live
(aside to Fitz.)    To you, without reserve, I give
                    Her heart so young and sensitive,
                         And all her predilections.

Sca.:              If he should live and I should die,
(aside to Fitz.)    I see no kind of reason why
                    You should not, if you wish it, try
                         To gain her young affections.

                            ENSEMBLE

           Sca. and Phant.                   Fitz and Zara

If I should die and you should live  As both of us are positive
To this young officer I give         That both of them intend to
live,
Her heart so soft and sensitive,     There's nothing in the case to
give
  And all her predilections.          Us cause for grave
reflections.
If you should live and I should die  As both will live and neither
die
I see no kind of reason why          I see no kind of reason why
He should not, if he chooses, try    I should not, if I wish it,
try
  To win her young affections.         To gain your young
affections!

                                   (Exit Scaphio and Phantis
together)

                 DUET -- Zara and Fitzbattleaxe

Ensemble:     Oh admirable art!
                    Oh, neatly-planned intention!
                    Oh, happy intervention--
                         Oh, well constructed plot!

               When sages try to part
                    Two loving hearts in fusion,
                    Their wisdom's delusion,
                         And learning serves them not!

Fitz.:        Until quit plain
                    Is their intent,
               These sages twain
                    I represent.
               Now please infer
                    That, nothing loth,
               You're henceforth, as it were,
                    Engaged to marry both--
           Then take it that I represent the two--
           On that hypothesis, what would you do?

Zara. (aside): What would I do? what would I do?
(To Fitz.)     In such a case,
                    Upon your breast,
               My blushing face
                    I think I'd rest--(doing so)
               Then perhaps I might
                    Demurely say--
               "I find this breastplate bright
                    Is sorely in the way!"

Fitz.:        Our mortal race
                    Is never blest--
               There's no such case
                    As perfect rest;
               Some petty blight
                    Asserts its sway--
               Some crumbled roseleaf light
                    Is always in the way!

                                     (Exit Fitzbattleaxe. Manet
Zara.)

(Enter King.)

King:    My daughter! At last we are alone together.

Zara:    Yes, and I'm glad we are, for I want to speak to you very
          seriously. Do you know this paper?

King:    (aside)  Da--! (Aloud)  Oh yes--I've--I've seen it.
Where
          in the world did you get this from?

Zara:    It was given to me by Lady Sophy--my sisters' governess.

King:    (aside)  Lady Sophy's an angel, but I do sometimes wish
          she'd mind her own business! (Aloud)  It's--ha!
ha!--it's
          rather humorous.

Zara:    I see nothing humorous in it. I only see that you, the
des-
          potic King of this country, are made the subject of the
most
          scandalous insinuations. Why do you permit these things?

King:    Well, they appeal to my sense of humor. It's the only
          really comic paper in Utopia, and I wouldn't be without
it
          for the world.

Zara:    If it had any literary merit I could understand it.

King:    Oh, it has literary merit. Oh, distinctly, it has
literary
          merit.

Zara:    My dear father, it's mere ungrammatical twaddle.

King:    Oh, it's not ungrammatical. I can't allow that.
Unpleas-
          antly personal, perhaps, but written with an
epigrammatical
          point that is very rare nowadays--very rare indeed.

Zara:    (looking at cartoon)  Why do they represent you with such
a
          big nose?

King:    (looking at cartoon)  Eh? Yes, it is a big one! Why,
the
          fact is that, in the cartoons of a comic paper, the size
of
          your nose always varies inversely as the square of your
          popularity. It's the rule.

Zara:    Then you must be at a tremendous discount just now! I
see a
          notice of a new piece called "King Tuppence," in which an
          English tenor has the audacity to personate you on a
public
          stage. I can only say that I am surprised that any
English
          tenor should lend himself to such degrading
personalities.

King:    Oh, he's not really English. As it happens he's a
Utopian,
          but he calls himself English.

Zara:    Calls himself English?

King:    Yes. Bless you, they wouldn't listen to any tenor who
          didn't call himself English.

Zara:    And you permit this insolent buffoon to caricature you in
a
          pointless burlesque! My dear father--if you were a free
          agent, you would never permit these outrages.

King:    (almost in tears)  Zara--I--I admit I am not altogether
a
          free agent. I--I am controlled. I try to make the best
of
          it, but sometimes I find it very difficult--very
difficult
          indeed. Nominally a Despot, I am, between ourselves, the
          helpless tool of two unscrupulous Wise Men, who insist on
my
          falling in with all their wishes and threaten to denounce
me
          for immediate explosion if I remonstrate! (Breaks down
          completely)

Zara:    My poor father! Now listen to me. With a view to
remodel-
          ling the political and social institutions of Utopia, I
have
          brought with me six Representatives of the principal
causes
          that have tended to make England the powerful, happy, and
          blameless country which the consensus of European
civiliza-
          tion has declared it to be. Place yourself unreservedly
in
          the hands of these gentlemen, and they will reorganize
your
          country on a footing that will enable you to defy your
          persecutors. They are all now washing their hands after
          their journey. Shall I introduce them?

King:    My dear Zara, how can I thank you? I will consent to
any-
          thing that will release me from the abominable tyranny of
          these two men. (Calling)  What ho! Without there!
(Enter
          Calynx)  Summon my Court without an instant's delay!
                                                         (Exit
Calynx)

                                FINALE
           Enter every one, except the Flowers of Progress.

                                CHORUS
               Although your Royal summons to appear
                    From courtesy was singularly free,
               Obedient to that summons we are here--
                         What would your Majesty?

                       RECITATIVE -- King

          My worthy people, my beloved daughter
          Most thoughtfully has brought with her from England
          The types of all the causes that have made
          That great and glorious country what it is.

Chorus:            Oh, joy unbounded!

Sca., Tar., Phan (aside).    Why, what does this mean?

                       RECITATIVE -- Zara

          Attend to me, Utopian populace,
               Ye South Pacific island viviparians;
          All, in the abstract, types of courtly grace,
          Yet, when compared with Britain's glorious race,
               But little better than half clothed Barbarians!

                             CHORUS

                    Yes! Contrasted when
                    With Englishmen,
          Are little better than half-clothed barbarians!

       Enter all the Flowers of Progress, led by Fitzbattleaxe.

              SOLOS -- Zara and the Flowers of Progress.

               (Presenting Captain Fitzbattleaxe)

          When Britain sounds the trump of war
               (And Europe trembles),
          The army of the conqueror
               In serried ranks assemble;
          'Tis then this warrior's eyes and sabre gleam
               For our protection--
          He represents a military scheme
               In all its proud perfection!

Chorus:                      Yes--yes
          He represents a military scheme
                    In all its proud perfection.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

                         SOLO -- Zara.

           (Presenting Sir Bailey Barre, Q.C., M.P.)

     A complicated gentleman allow to present,
     Of all the arts and faculties the terse embodiment,
     He's a great arithmetician who can demonstrate with ease
     That two and two are three or five or anything you please;
     An eminent Logician who can make it clear to you
          That black is white--when looked at from the proper point
of
               view;
          A marvelous Philologist who'll undertake to show
     That "yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."

Sir Bailey:             Yes--yes--yes--
     "Yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."
     All preconceived ideas on any subject I can scout,
     And demonstrate beyond all possibility of doubt,
     That whether you're an honest man or whether you're a thief
     Depends on whose solicitor has given me my brief.

Chorus:                 Yes--yes--yes
          That whether your'e an honest man, etc.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

Zara:         (Presenting Lord Dramaleigh and County Councillor)
               What these may be, Utopians all,
                    Perhaps you'll hardly guess--
               They're types of England's physical
                    And moral cleanliness.
               This is a Lord High Chamberlain,
                    Of purity the gauge--
               He'll cleanse our court from moral stain
                    And purify our Stage.

Lord D.:                Yes--yes--yes
               Court reputations I revise,
               And presentations scrutinize,
               New plays I read with jealous eyes,
                    And purify the Stage.

Chorus:            Court reputations, etc.

Zara:         This County Councillor acclaim,
                    Great Britain's latest toy--
               On anything you like to name
                    His talents he'll employ--

               All streets and squares he'll purify
                    Within your city walls,
               And keep meanwhile a modest eye
                    On wicked music halls.

C.C.:                   Yes--yes--yes
               In towns I make improvements great,
               Which go to swell the County Rate--
               I dwelling-houses sanitate,
                    And purify the Halls!

Chorus:  In towns he makes improvements great, etc.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

                         SOLO -- Zara:

                   (Presenting Mr. Goldbury)

     A Company Promoter this with special education,
     Which teaches what Contango means and also Backwardation--
     To speculators he supplies a grand financial leaven,
     Time was when two were company--but now it must be seven.

Mr. Gold.:              Yes--yes--yes
          Stupendous loans to foreign thrones
               I've largely advocated;
          In ginger-pops and peppermint-drops
               I've freely speculated;
          Then mines of gold, of wealth untold,
               Successfully I've floated
          And sudden falls in apple-stalls
               Occasionally quoted.
          And soon or late I always call
               For Stock Exchange quotation--
          No schemes too great and none too small
               For Companification!

Chorus:  Yes! Yes! Yes! No schemes too great, etc.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

Zara:    (Presenting Capt. Sir Edward Corcoran, R.N.)

          And lastly I present
               Great Britain's proudest boast,
          Who from the blows
          Of foreign foes
               Protects her sea-girt coast--
          And if you ask him in respectful tone,
          He'll show you how you may protect your own!

                    SOLO -- Captain Corcoran

          I'm Captain Corcoran, K.C.B.,
          I'll teach you how we rule the sea,
               And terrify the simple Gauls;
          And how the Saxon and the Celt
          Their Europe-shaking blows have dealt
          With Maxim gun and Nordenfelt
               (Or will when the occasion calls).
          If sailor-like you'd play your cards,
          Unbend your sails and lower your yards,
               Unstep your masts--you'll never want 'em more.
          Though we're no longer hearts of oak,
          Yet we can steer and we can stoke,
          And thanks to coal, and thanks to coke,
               We never run a ship ashore!

All:     What never?

Capt.:                            No, never!

All:     What never?

Capt:                             Hardly ever!

All:          Hardly ever run a ship ashore!
          Then give three cheers, and three cheers more,
          For the tar who never runs his ship ashore;
          Then give three cheers, and three cheers more,
               For he never runs his ship ashore!

                             CHORUS

          All hail, ye types of England's power--
               Ye heaven-enlightened band!
          We bless the day and bless the hour
               That brought you to our land.

                            QUARTET

          Ye wanderers from a mighty State,
          Oh, teach us how to legislate--
          Your lightest word will carry weight,
               In our attentive ears.
          Oh, teach the natives of this land
          (Who are not quick to understand)
          How to work off their social and
               Political arrears!

Capt. Fitz.:  Increase your army!
Lord D.:                               Purify your court!
Capt. Corc:   Get up your steam and cut your canvas short!
Sir B.:       To speak on both sides teach your sluggish brains!
Mr. B.:       Widen your thoroughfares, and flush your drains!
Mr. Gold.:    Utopia's much too big for one small head--
               I'll float it as a Company Limited!

King:         A Company Limited? What may that be?
               The term, I rather think, is new to me.

Chorus:       A company limited? etc.

Sca, Phant, and Tara (Aside)
          What does he mean? What does he mean?
               Give us a kind of clue!
          What does he mean? What does he mean?
               What is he going to do?

SONG -- Mr. Goldbury

          Some seven men form an Association
               (If possible, all Peers and Baronets),
          The start off with a public declaration
               To what extent they mean to pay their debts.
          That's called their Capital; if they are wary
               They will not quote it at a sum immense.
          The figure's immaterial--it may vary
               From eighteen million down to eighteenpence.
                    I should put it rather low;
                    The good sense of doing so
               Will be evident at once to any debtor.
                    When it's left to you to say
                    What amount you mean to pay,
               Why, the lower you can put it at, the better.

Chorus:            When it's left to you to say, etc.

          They then proceed to trade with all who'll trust 'em
               Quite irrespective of their capital
          (It's shady, but it's sanctified by custom);
               Bank, Railway, Loan, or Panama Canal.
          You can't embark on trading too tremendous--
               It's strictly fair, and based on common sense--
          If you succeed, your profits are stupendous--
               And if you fail, pop goes your eighteenpence.

               Make the money-spinner spin!
               For you only stand to win,
          And you'll never with dishonesty be twitted.
               For nobody can know,
               To a million or so,
          To what extent your capital's committed!

Chorus:            No, nobody can know, etc.

          If you come to grief, and creditors are craving
               (For nothing that is planned by mortal head
          Is certain in this Vale of Sorrow--saving
               That one's Liability is Limited),--
          Do you suppose that signifies perdition?
               If so, you're but a monetary dunce--
          You merely file a Winding-Up Petition,
               And start another Company at once!
               Though a Rothschild you may be
               In your own capacity,
          As a Company you've come to utter sorrow--
               But the Liquidators say,
               "Never mind--you needn't pay,"
          So you start another company to-morrow!

Chorus:            But the liquidators say, etc.

King:    Well, at first sight it strikes us as dishonest,
          But if its's good enough for virtuous England--
          The first commercial country in the world--
          It's good enough for us.

Sca., Phan., Tar. (aside to the King)
                                   You'd best take care--
          Please recollect we have not been consulted.

King:    And do I understand that Great Britain
          Upon this Joint Stock principle is governed?

Mr. G.:  We haven't come to that, exactly--but
          We're tending rapidly in that direction.
          The date's not distant.

King: (enthusiastically)      We will be before you!
          We'll go down in posterity renowned
          As the First Sovereign in Christendom
          Who registered his Crown and Country under
          The Joint Stock Company's Act of Sixty-Two.

All:     Ulahlica!

                             SOLO -- King

               Henceforward, of a verity,
                    With Fame ourselves we link--
               We'll go down to Posterity
                    Of sovereigns all the pink!

Sca., Phan., Tar.: (aside to King)
               If you've the mad temerity
                    Our wishes thus to blink,
               You'll go down to Posterity,
                    Much earlier than you think!

Tar.: (correcting them)

               He'll go up to Posterity,
                    If I inflict the blow!

Sca., Phan.: (angrily)

               He'll go down to Posterity--
                    We think we ought to know!

Tar.: (explaining)  He'll go up to Posterity,
               Blown up with dynamite!

Sca., Phan.: (apologetically)

               He'll go up to Posterity,
                    Of course he will, you're right!

                            ENSEMBLE

King, Lady Sophy, Nek.,      Sca., Phan, and Tar      Fitz. and
Zara (aside)
Kal., Calynx and Chorus             (aside)

Henceforward of a verity,    If he has the temerity    Who love
with all sincerity;
  With fame ourselves we     Our wishes thus to blink    Their
lives may safely link.
     link--
And go down to Posterity,    He'll go up to Posterity  And as for
our posterity
  Of sovereigns all pink!     Much earlier than they    We don't
care what they think!
                                 think!

                             CHORUS

                    Let's seal this mercantile pact--
                         The step we ne'er shall rue--
                    It gives whatever we lacked--
                         The statement's strictly true.
                    All hail, astonishing Fact!
                         All hail, Invention new--
                    The Joint Stock Company's Act--
                         The Act of Sixty-Two!

                             END OF ACT I

                                ACT II

Scene -- Throne Room in the Palace. Night. Fitzbattleaxe
discovered,
     singing to Zara.

                  RECITATIVE -- Fitzbattleaxe.

          Oh, Zara, my beloved one, bear with me!
          Ah, do not laugh at my attempted C!
          Repent not, mocking maid, thy girlhood's choice--
          The fervour of my love affects my voice!

                     SONG -- Fitzbattleaxe.

          A tenor, all singers above
               (This doesn't admit of a question),
                    Should keep himself quiet,
                    Attend to his diet
               And carefully nurse his digestion;
          But when he is madly in love
               It's certain to tell on his singing--
                    You can't do the proper chromatics
                    With proper emphatics
               When anguish your bosom is wringing!
          When distracted with worries in plenty,
          And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,
          And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,
          A tenor can't do himself justice,
               Now observe--(sings a high note),
          You see, I can't do myself justice!
          I could sing if my fervour were mock,
               It's easy enough if you're acting--
                    But when one's emotion
                    Is born of devotion
               You mustn't be over-exacting.
          One ought to be firm as a rock
               To venture a shake in vibrato,
                    When fervour's expected
                    Keep cool and collected
               Or never attempt agitato.
          But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,
          And his lips appear pasted together,
          And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,
          A tenor can't do himself justice.
               Now observe--(sings a high note),
          It's no use--I can't do myself justice!

Zara:    Why, Arthur, what does it matter? When the higher
qualities
          of the heart are all that can be desired, the higher
notes
          of the voice are matters of comparative insignificance.
Who
          thinks slightingly of the cocoanut because it is husky?
Be-
          sides (demurely), you are not singing for an engagement
          (putting her hand in his), you have that already!

Fitz.:   How good and wise you are! How unerringly your practiced
          brain winnows the wheat from the chaff--the material from
          the merely incidental!

Zara:    My Girton training, Arthur. At Girton all is wheat, and
          idle chaff is never heard within its walls! But tell me,
is
          not all working marvelously well? Have not our Flowers
of
          Progress more than justified their name?

Fitz.:   We have indeed done our best. Captain Corcoran and I
have,
          in concert, thoroughly remodeled the sister-services--and
          upon so sound a basis that the South Pacific trembles at
the
          name of Utopia!

Zara:    How clever of you!

Fitz.:   Clever? Not a bit. It's easy as possible when the
Admiral-
          ty and Horse Guards are not there to interfere. And so
with
          the others. Freed from the trammels imposed upon them by
          idle Acts of Parliament, all have given their natural
tal-
          ents full play and introduced reforms which, even in Eng-
          land, were never dreamt of!

Zara:    But perhaps the most beneficent changes of all has been
ef-
          fected by Mr. Goldbury, who, discarding the exploded
theory
          that some strange magic lies hidden in the number Seven,
has
          applied the Limited Liability principle to individuals,
and
          every man, woman, and child is now a Company Limited with
          liability restricted to the amount of his declared
Capital!
          There is not a christened baby in Utopia who has not
already
          issued his little Prospectus!

Fitz.:   Marvelous is the power of a Civilization which can trans-
          mute, by a word, a Limited Income into an Income Limited.

Zara:    Reform has not stopped here--it has been applied even to
the
          costume of our people. Discarding their own barbaric
dress,
          the natives of our land have unanimously adopted the
taste-
          ful fashions of England in all their rich entirety.
Scaphio
          and Phantis have undertaken a contract to supply the
whole
          of Utopia with clothing designed upon the most approved
          English models--and the first Drawing-Room under the new
          state of things is to be held here this evening.

Fitz.:   But Drawing-Rooms are always held in the afternoon.

Zara:    Ah, we've improved upon that. We all look so much better
by
          candlelight! And when I tell you, dearest, that my Court
          train has just arrived, you will understand that I am
long-
          ing to go and try it on.

Fitz.:   Then we must part?

Zara:    Necessarily, for a time.

Fitz.:   Just as I wanted to tell you, with all the passionate
enthu-
          siasm of my nature, how deeply, how devotedly I love you!

Zara:    Hush! Are these the accents of a heart that really
feels?
          True love does not indulge in declamation--its voice is
          sweet, and soft, and low. The west wind whispers when he
          woos the poplars!

                    DUET -- Zara and Fitzbattleaxe.

Zara:         Words of love too loudly spoken
                    Ring their own untimely knell;
               Noisy vows are rudely broken,
                    Soft the song of Philomel.
               Whisper sweetly, whisper slowly,
                    Hour by hour and day by day;
               Sweet and low as accents holy
                    Are the notes of lover's lay.

Both:         Sweet and low, etc.

Fitz:         Let the conqueror, flushed with glory,
                    Bid his noisy clarions bray;
               Lovers tell their artless story
                    In a whispered virelay.
               False is he whose vows alluring
                    Make the listening echoes ring;
               Sweet and low when all-enduring
                    Are the songs that lovers sing!

Both:         Sweet and low, etc.

       (Exit Zara. Enter King dressed as Field-Marshal.)

King:    To a Monarch who has been accustomed to the uncontrolled
use
          of his limbs, the costume of a British Field-Marshal is,
          perhaps, at first, a little cramping. Are you sure that
          this is all right? It's not a practical joke, is it? No
          one has a keener sense of humor than I have, but the
First
          Statutory Cabinet Council of Utopia Limited must be
conduct-
          ed with dignity and impressiveness. Now, where are the
          other five who signed the Articles of Association?

Fitz.:   Sir, they are here.

(Enter Lord Dramaleigh, Captain Corcoran, Sir Bailey Barre, Mr.
Blushington, and
     Mr. Goldbury from different entrances.)

King:    Oh! (Addressing them)  Gentlemen, our daughter holds her
          first Drawing-Room in half an hour, and we shall have
time
          to make our half-yearly report in the interval. I am
neces-
          sarily unfamiliar with the forms of an English Cabinet
          Council--perhaps the Lord Chamberlain will kindly put us
in
          the way of doing the thing properly, and with due regard
to
          the solemnity of the occasion.

Lord D.: Certainly--nothing simpler. Kindly bring your chairs
          forward--His Majesty will, of course, preside.

(They range their chairs across stage like Christy Minstrels. King
     sits center, Lord Dramaleigh on his left, Mr. Goldbury on his
right,
     Captain Corcoran left of Lord Dramaleigh, Captain
Fitzbattleaxe right of
     Mr. Goldbury, Mr. Blushington extreme right, Sir Bailey Barre
extreme
     left.)

King:    Like this?

Lord D.: Like this.

King:    We take your word for it that this is all right. You are
          not making fun of us? This is in accordance with the
prac-
          tice at the Court of St. James's?

Lord D.: Well, it is in accordance with the practice at the Court
of
          St. James's Hall.

King:    Oh! it seems odd, but never mind.

                             SONG -- King.

          Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses.
          Which empties our police courts, and abolishes divorces.

Chorus:  Divorce is nearly obsolete in England.

King:    No tolerance we show to undeserving rank and splendour;
          For the higher his position is, the greater the offender.

Chorus:  That's maxim that is prevalent in England.

King:    No peeress at our drawing-room before the Presence passes
          Who wouldn't be accepted by the lower middle-classes.
          Each shady dame, whatever be her rank, is bowed out
neatly.

Chorus:  In short, this happy country has been Anglicized
completely
          Is really is surprising
          What a thorough Anglicizing
     We have brought about--Utopia's quite another land;
          In her enterprising movements,
           She is England--with improvements,
     Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!

King:    Our city we have beautified--we've done it willy-nilly--
          And all that isn't Belgrave Square is Strand and
Piccadilly.

Chorus:       We haven't any slummeries in England!

King:    The chamberlain our native stage has purged beyond a
ques-
               tion.
          Of "risky" situation and indelicate suggestion;
          No piece is tolerated if it's costumed indiscreetly--

Chorus:       In short this happy country has been Anglicized com-
                    pletely!
                    It really is surprising, etc.

King:    Our peerage we've remodelled on an intellectual basis,
          Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races--

Chorus:       We are going to remodel it in England.

King:    The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seek
admission,
          And literary merit meets with proper recognition--

Chorus:       As literary merit does in England!

King:    Who knows but we may count among our intellectual
chickens
          Like you, an Earl of Thackery and p'r'aps a Duke of
               Dickens--
          Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais (when they come) we'll
               welcome sweetly--

Chorus:  In short, this happy country has been Anglicized
completely!
          It really is surprising, etc.

        (At the end all rise and replace their chairs.)

King:    Now, then for our first Drawing-Room. Where are the
Prin-
          cesses? What an extraordinary thing it is that since
Euro-
          pean looking-glasses have been supplied to the Royal bed-
          rooms my daughters are invariably late!

Lord D.: Sir, their Royal Highnesses await your pleasure in the
          Ante-room.

King:    Oh. Then request them to do us the favor to enter at
once.

(Enter all the Royal Household, including (besides the Lord
Chamber-
     lain) the Vice-Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, the
Master
     of the Buckhounds, the Lord High Treasurer, the Lord Steward,
the
     Comptroller of the Household, the Lord-in-Waiting, the Field
     Officer in Brigade Waiting, the Gold and Silver Stick, and the
     Gentlemen Ushers. Then enter the three Princesses (their
trains
     carried by Pages of Honor), Lady Sophy, and the
     Ladies-in-Waiting.)

King:    My daughters, we are about to attempt a very solemn
ceremo-
          nial, so no giggling, if you please. Now, my Lord
Chamber-
          lain, we are ready.

Lord D.: Then, ladies and gentlemen, places, if you please. His
Maj-
          esty will take his place in front of the throne, and will
be
          so obliging as to embrace all the debutantes. (LADY
SOPHY
          much shocked.)

King:    What--must I really?

Lord D.: Absolutely indispensable.

King:    More jam for the Palace Peeper!

(The King takes his place in front of the throne, the Princess Zara
on
     his left, the two younger Princesses on the left of Zara.)

King:    Now, is every one in his place?

Lord D.: Every one is in his place.

King:    Then let the revels commence.

(Enter the ladies attending the Drawing-Room. They give their
cards
     to the Groom-in-Waiting, who passes them to the
Lord-in-Waiting,
     who passes them to the Vice-Chamberlain, who passes them to
the
     Lord Chamberlain, who reads the names to the King as each lady
     approaches. The ladies curtsey in succession to the King and
the
     three Princesses, and pass out. When all the presentations
have
     been accomplished, the King, Princesses, and Lady Sophy come
     forward, and all the ladies re-enter.)

                          RECITATIVE -- King

          This ceremonial our wish displays
          To copy all Great Britain's courtly ways.
          Though lofty aims catastrophe entail,
          We'll gloriously succeed or nobly fail!

                      UNACCOMPANIED CHORUS

          Eagle High in Cloudland soaring--
               Sparrow twittering on a reed--
          Tiger in the jungle roaring--
               Frightened fawn in grassy mead--
          Let the eagle, not the sparrow,
          Be the object of your arrow--
               Fix the tiger with your eye--
               Pass the fawn in pity by.
               Glory then will crown the day--
               Glory, glory, anyway!

                                                             Exit
all.

Enter Scaphio and Phantis, now dressed as judges in red and ermine
robes
     and undress wigs. They come down stage melodramatically --
     working together.

                     DUET -- Scaphio and Phantis.

Sca.:              With fury deep we burn

Phan.:                                           We do--

Sca.:              We fume with smothered rage--

Phan.:                                           We do--

Sca.:              These Englishmen who rule supreme,
                    Their undertaking they redeem
                    By stifling every harmless scheme
                         In which we both engage--

Phan.:                                           They do--

Sca.:                   In which we both engage--

Phan.:             We think it is our turn--

Sca.:                                            We do--

Phan.:             We think our turn has come--

Sca.:                                            We do.

Phan.:             These Englishmen, they must prepare
                    To seek at once their native air.
                    The King as heretofore, we swear,
                    Shall be beneath our thumb--

Sca.:                                            He shall--

Phan.:             Shall be beneath out thumb--

Sca.:                                            He shall.

Both: (with great energy)
                    For this mustn't be, and this won't do.
                    If you'll back me, then I'll back you,
                              No, this won't do,
                              No, this mustn't be.
                       With fury deep we burn...

                            Enter the King.

King:    Gentlemen, gentlemen--really! This unseemly display of
          energy within the Royal precincts is altogether unpardon-
          able. Pray, what do you complain of?

Scaphio: (furiously)  What do we complain of? Why, through the
          innovations introduced by the Flowers of Progress all our
          harmless schemes for making a provision for our old age
are
          ruined. Our Matrimonial Agency is at a standstill, our
          Cheap Sherry business is in bankruptcy, our Army Clothing
          contracts are paralyzed, and even our Society paper, the
          Palace Peeper, is practically defunct!

King:    Defunct? Is that so? Dear, dear, I am truly sorry.

Scaphio: Are you aware that Sir Bailey Barre has introduced a law
of
          libel by which all editors of scurrilous newspapers are
pub-
          licly flogged--as in England? And six of our editors
have
          resigned in succession! Now, the editor of a scurrilous
          paper can stand a good deal--he takes a private thrashing
as
          a matter of course--it's considered in his salary--but no
          gentleman likes to be publicly flogged.

King:    Naturally. I shouldn't like it myself.

Phantis: Then our Burlesque Theater is absolutely ruined!

King:    Dear me. Well, theatrical property is not what it was.

Phantis: Are you aware that the Lord Chamberlain, who has his own
          views as to the best means of elevating the national
drama,
          has declined to license any play that is not in blank
verse
          and three hundred years old--as in England?

Scaphio: And as if that wasn't enough, the County Councillor has
or-
          dered a four-foot wall to be built up right across the
          proscenium, in case of fire--as in England.

Phantis: It's so hard on the company--who are liable to be roasted
          alive--and this has to be met by enormously increased
          salaries--as in England.

Scaphio: You probably know that we've contracted to supply the
entire
          nation with a complete English outfit. But perhaps you
do
          not know that, when we send in our bills, our customers
          plead liability limited to a declared capital of
          eighteenpence, and apply to be dealt with under the
          Winding-up Act--as in England?

King:    Really, gentlemen, this is very irregular. If you will
be
          so good as to formulate a detailed list of your
grievances
          in writing, addressed to the Secretary of Utopia Limited,
          they will be laid before the Board, in due course, at
their
          next monthly meeting.

Scaphio: Are we to understand that we are defied?

King:    That is the idea I intended to convey.

Phantis: Defied! We are defied!

Scaphio: (furiously)  Take care--you know our powers. Trifle with
          us, and you die!

                  TRIO -- Scaphio, Phantis, and King.

Sca.:    If you think that, when banded in unity,
          We may both be defied with impunity,
               You are sadly misled of a verity!

Phan.:   If you value repose and tranquility,
          You'll revert to a state of docility,
               Or prepare to regret your temerity!

King.:   If my speech is unduly refractory
          You will find it a course satisfactory
               At an early Board meeting to show it up.
          Though if proper excuse you can trump any,
          You may wind up a Limited Company,
               You cannot conveniently blow it up!

            (Scaphio and Phantis thoroughly baffled)

King.: (Dancing quietly)
          Whene'er I chance to baffle you
          I, also, dance a step or two--
          Of this now guess the hidden sense:

(Scaphio and Phantis consider the question as King continues
dancing
     quietly--then give it up.)

          It means complete indifference!

Sca. and Phan.:    Of course it does--indifference!
                    It means complete indifference!

(King dancing quietly. Sca. and Phan. dancing furiously.)

Sca. and Phan.:    As we've a dance for every mood
                    With pas de trois we will conclude,
                    What this may mean you all may guess--
                    It typifies remorselessness!

King.:             It means unruffled cheerfulness!

(King dances off placidly as Scaphio and Phantis dance furiously.)

Phantis: (breathless)  He's right--we are helpless! He's no
longer a
          human being--he's a Corporation, and so long as he
confines
          himself to his Articles of Association we can't touch
him!
          What are we to do?

Scaphio: Do? Raise a Revolution, repeal the Act of Sixty-Two,
recon-
          vert him into an individual, and insist on his immediate
ex-
          plosion! (Tarara enters.)  Tarara, come here; you're the
          very man we want.

Tarara:  Certainly, allow me. (Offers a cracker to each; they
snatch
          them away impatiently.)  That's rude.

Scaphio: We have no time for idle forms. You wish to succeed to
the
          throne?

Tarara:  Naturally.

Scaphio: Then you won't unless you join us. The King has defied
us,
          and, as matters stand, we are helpless. So are you. We
          must devise some plot at once to bring the people about
his
          ears.

Tarara:  A plot?

Phantis: Yes, a plot of superhuman subtlety. Have you such a
thing
          about you?

Tarara:  (feeling)  No, I think not. No. There's one on my
          dressing-table.

Scaphio: We can't wait--we must concoct one at once, and put it
into
          execution without delay. There is not a moment to spare!

                 TRIO -- Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara.

                            Ensemble

               With wily brain upon the spot
                    A private plot we'll plan,
               The most ingenious private plot
                    Since private plots began.
               That's understood. So far we've got
               And, striking while the iron's hot,
               We'll now determine like a shot
               The details of this private plot.

Sca.:         I think we ought--(whispers)
Phan. and Tar.:    Such bosh I never heard!
Phan.:        Ah! happy thought!--(whispers)
Sca. and Tar.:     How utterly dashed absurd!
Tar.:         I'll tell you how--(whispers)
Sca and Phan.:     Why, what put that in your head?
Sca.:         I've got it now--(whispers)
Phan. and Tar.:    Oh, take him away to bed!
Phan.:        Oh, put him to bed!
Tar.:         Oh, put him to bed!
Sca.:              What, put me to bed?
Phan. and Tar.:    Yes, certainly put him to bed!
Sca.:         But, bless me, don't you see--
Phan.:             Do listen to me, I pray--
Tar.:         It certainly seems to me--
Sca.:              Bah--this is the only way!
Phan.:        It's rubbish absurd you growl!
Tar.:         You talk ridiculous stuff!
Sca.:         You're a drivelling barndoor owl!
Phan.:             You're a vapid and vain old muff!

                (All, coming down to audience.)

          So far we haven't quite solved the plot--
          They're not a very ingenious lot--
               But don't be unhappy,
               It's still on the tapis,
          We'll presently hit on a capital plot!

Sca.:    Suppose we all--(whispers)
Phan.:        Now there I think you're right.
          Then we might all--(whispers)
Tar.:         That's true, we certainly might.
          I'll tell you what--(whispers)
Sca.:         We will if we possibly can.
          Then on the spot-- (whispers)
Phan. and Tar.:    Bravo! A capital plan!
Sca.:    That's exceedingly neat and new!
Phan.:   Exceedingly new and neat.
Tar.:    I fancy that that will do.
Sca.:         It's certainly very complete.
Phan.:   Well done you sly old sap!
Tar.:         Bravo, you cunning old mole!
Sca.:    You very ingenious chap!
Phan.:        You intellectual soul!

          (All, coming down and addressing audience.)

          At last a capital plan we've got
          We won't say how and we won't say what:
               It's safe in my noddle--
               Now off we will toddle,
          And slyly develop this capital plot!

(Business. Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis in one direction, and Tarara
in
the other.)

           (Enter Lord Dramaleigh and Mr. Goldbury.)

Lord D.: Well, what do you think of our first South Pacific
          Drawing-Room? Allowing for a slight difficulty with the
          trains, and a little want of familiarity with the use of
the
          rouge-pot, it was, on the whole, a meritorious affair?

Gold.:   My dear Dramaleigh, it redounds infinitely to your
credit.

Lord D.: One or two judicious innovations, I think?

Gold.:   Admirable. The cup of tea and the plate of mixed
biscuits
          were a cheap and effective inspiration.

Lord D.: Yes--my idea entirely. Never been done before.

Gold.:   Pretty little maids, the King's youngest daughters, but
          timid.

Lord D.: That'll wear off. Young.

Gold.:   That'll wear off. Ha! here they come, by George! And
with-
          out the Dragon! What can they have done with her?

               (Enter Nekaya and Kalyba timidly.)

Nekaya:  Oh, if you please, Lady Sophy has sent us in here,
because
          Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe are going on, in the
garden,
          in a manner which no well-conducted young ladies ought to
          witness.

Lord D.: Indeed, we are very much obliged to her Ladyship.

Kalyba:  Are you? I wonder why.

Nekaya:  Don't tell us if it's rude.

Lord D.: Rude? Not at all. We are obliged to Lady Sophy because
she
          has afforded us the pleasure of seeing you.

Nekaya:  I don't think you ought to talk to us like that.

Kalyba:  It's calculated to turn our heads.

Nekaya:  Attractive girls cannot be too particular.

Kalyba:  Oh pray, pray do not take advantage of our unprotected
inno-
          cence.

Gold.:   Pray be reassured--you are in no danger whatever.

Lord D.: But may I ask--is this extreme delicacy--this shrinking
          sensitiveness--a general characteristic of Utopian young
          ladies?

Nekaya:  Oh no; we are crack specimens.

Kalyba:  We are the pick of the basket. Would you mind not coming
          quite so near? Thank you.

Nekaya:  And please don't look at us like that; it unsettles us.

Kalyba:  And we don't like it. At least, we do like it; but it's
          wrong.

Nekaya:  We have enjoyed the inestimable privilege of being
educated
          by a most refined and easily shocked English lady, on the
          very strictest English principles.

Gold.:   But, my dear young ladies---

Kalyba:  Oh, don't! You mustn't. It's too affectionate.

Nekaya:  It really does unsettle us.

Gold.:   Are you really under the impression that English girls
are
          so ridiculously demure? Why, an English girl of the
highest
          type is the best, the most beautiful, the bravest, and
the
          brightest creature that Heaven has conferred upon this
world
          of ours. She is frank, open-hearted, and fearless, and
          never shows in so favorable a light as when she gives her
          own blameless impulses full play!

Nekaya    Oh, you shocking story!
and
Kalyba:

Gold.:   Not at all. I'm speaking the strict truth. I'll tell
you
          all about her.

                         SONG -- Mr. Goldbury.

          A wonderful joy our eyes to bless,
          In her magnificent comeliness,
          Is an English girl of eleven stone two,
          And five foot ten in her dancing shoe!
               She follows the hounds, and on the pounds--
                    The "field" tails off and the muffs diminish--

          Over the hedges and brooks she bounds,
               Straight as a crow, from find to finish.
          At cricket, her kin will lose or win--
               She and her maids, on grass and clover,
          Eleven maids out--eleven maids in--
               And perhaps an occasional "maiden over!"

               Go search the world and search the sea,
               Then come you home and sing with me
               There's no such gold and no such pearl
               As a bright and beautiful English girl!

          With a ten-mile spin she stretches her limbs,
          She golfs, she punts, she rows, she swims--
          She plays, she sings, she dances, too,
          From ten or eleven til all is blue!
               At ball or drum, til small hours come
                    (Chaperon's fans concealing her yawning)
               She'll waltz away like a teetotum.
                    And never go home til daylight's dawning.
               Lawn-tennis may share her favours fair--
                    Her eyes a-dance, and her cheeks a-glowing--
               Down comes her hair, but then what does she care?
                    It's all her own and it's worth the showing!
                         Go search the world, etc.

          Her soul is sweet as the ocean air,
          For prudery knows no haven there;
          To find mock-modesty, please apply
          To the conscious blush and the downcast eye.
               Rich in the things contentment brings,
                    In every pure enjoyment wealthy,
               Blithe and beautiful bird she sings,
                    For body and mind are hale and healthy.
               Her eyes they thrill with right goodwill--
                    Her heart is light as a floating feather--
               As pure and bright as the mountain rill
                    That leaps and laughs in the Highland heather!
                         Go search the world, etc.

                            QUARTET

Nek.:         Then I may sing and play?

Lord D.:                               You may!

Kal.:         Then I may laugh and shout?

Gold.:                                 No doubt!.

Nek.:         These maxims you endorse?

Lord D.:                               Of course!

Kal.:         You won't exclaim "Oh fie!"

Gold.:                                 Not I!

Gold:         Whatever you are--be that:
                    Whatever you say--be true:
                              Straightforwardly act--
                         Be honest--in fact,
                    Be nobody else but you.

Lord D.:      Give every answer pat--
                    Your character true unfurl;
                         And when it is ripe,
                         You'll then be a type
                    Of a capital English girl.

All.:         Oh sweet surprise--oh, dear delight,
               To find it undisputed quite,
               All musty, fusty rules despite
               That Art is wrong and Nature right!

Nek.:         When happy I,
                    With laughter glad
                         I'll wake the echoes fairly,
               And only sigh
                    When I am sad--
                         And that will be but rarely!

Kal.:         I'll row and fish,
                    And gallop, soon--
                         No longer be a prim one--
               And when I wish
                    To hum a tune,
                         It needn't be a hymn one?

Gold and Lord D.: No, no!
               It needn't be a hymn one!

All (dancing): Oh, sweet surprise and dear delight
               To find it undisputed quite--
               All musty, fusty rules despite--
               That Art is wrong and Nature right!

                                                      (Dance, and
off)
                       (Enter Lady Sophy)

                       RECITATIVE -- Lady Sophy.

          Oh, would some demon power the gift impart
          To quell my over-conscientious heart--
          Unspeak the oaths that never had been spoken,
          And break the vows that never should be broken!

                       SONG -- Lady Sophy

          When but a maid of fifteen year,
               Unsought--unplighted--
          Short petticoated--and, I fear,
               Still shorter-sighted--
          I made a vow, one early spring,
          That only to some spotless King
          Who proof of blameless life could bring
               I'd be united.
          For I had read, not long before,
          Of blameless kings in fairy lore,
          And thought the race still flourished here--
               Well, well--
             I was a maid of fifteen year!

(The King enters and overhears this verse)

          Each morning I pursued my game
               (An early riser);
          For spotless monarchs I became
               An advertiser:
          But all in vain I searched each land,
          So, kingless, to my native strand
          Returned, a little older, and
               A good deal wiser!

          I learnt that spotless King and Prince
          Have disappeared some ages since--
          Even Paramount's angelic grace--
                    Ah me!--
          Is but a mask on Nature's face!
(King comes forward)

King:    Ah, Lady Sophy--then you love me!
               For so you sing--

Lady S.: (Indignant and surprise. Producing "Palace Peeper")
               No, by the stars that shine above me,
                    Degraded King!
          For while these rumours, through the city bruited,
          Remain uncontradicted, unrefuted,
          The object thou of my aversion rooted,
                    Repulsive thing!

King:    Be just--the time is now at hand
               When truth may published be.
          These paragraphs were written and
               Contributed by me!

Lady S.: By you? No, no!

King:                        Yes, yes. I swear, by me!
          I, caught in Scaphio's ruthless toil,
               Contributed the lot!

Lady S.: That that is why you did not boil
               The author on the spot!

King:    And that is why I did not boil
               The author on the spot!

Lady S.: I couldn't think why you did not boil!

King:    But I know why I did not boil
               The author on the spot!

                  DUET -- Lady Sophy and King

Lady S.: Oh, the rapture unrestrained
               Of a candid retractation!
          For my sovereign has deigned
               A convincing explanation--
          And the clouds that gathered o'er
               All have vanished in the distance,
          And the Kings of fairy lore
               One, at least, is in existence!

King:    Oh, the skies are blue above,
               And the earth is red and rosal,
          Now the lady of my love
               Has accepted my proposal!
          For that asinorum pons
               I have crossed without assistance,
          And of prudish paragons
               One, at least, is in existence!

(King and Lady Sophy dance gracefully. While this is going on Lord
     Dramaleigh enters unobserved with Nekaya and Capt.
Fitzbattleaxe. The
     two girls direct Zara's attention to the King and Lady Sophy,
who
     are still dancing affectionately together. At this point the
     King kisses Lady Sophy, which causes the Princesses to make an
     exclamation. The King and Lady Sophy are at first much
confused at
     being detected, but eventually throw off all reserve, and the
     four couples break into a wild Tarantella, and at the end
exeunt
     severally.)

Enter all the male Chorus, in great excitement, for various
entrances,
     led by Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara, and followed by the
female
     Chorus.

                                CHORUS.

                    Upon our sea-girt land
                    At our enforced command
                    Reform has laid her hand
                         Like some remorseless ogress--
                    And made us darkly rue
                    The deeds she dared to do--
                    And all is owing to
                         Those hated Flowers of Progress!

                         So down with them!
                         So down with them!
                    Reform's a hated ogress.
                         So down with them!
                         So down with them!
                    Down with the Flowers of Progress!

(Flourish. Enter King, his three daughters, Lady Sophy, and the
Flowers
     of Progress.)

King:    What means this most unmannerly irruption?
          Is this your gratitude for boons conferred?

Scaphio: Boons? Bah! A fico for such boons, say we!
          These boons have brought Utopia to a standstill!
          Our pride and boast--the Army and the Navy--
          Have both been reconstructed and remodeled
          Upon so irresistible a basis
          That all the neighboring nations have disarmed--
          And War's impossible! Your County Councillor
          Has passed such drastic Sanitary laws
          That all doctors dwindle, starve, and die!
          The laws, remodeled by Sir Bailey Barre,
          Have quite extinguished crime and litigation:
          The lawyers starve, and all the jails are let
          As model lodgings for the working-classes!
          In short--Utopia, swamped by dull Prosperity,
          Demands that these detested Flowers of Progress
          Be sent about their business, and affairs
          Restored to their original complexion!

King:    (to Zara)  My daughter, this is a very unpleasant state
of
          things. What is to be done?

Zara:    I don't know--I don't understand it. We must have
omitted
          something.

King:    Omitted something? Yes, that's all very well, but---
(Sir
          Bailey Barre whispers to Zara.)

Zara:    (suddenly)  Of course! Now I remember! Why, I had
forgot-
          ten the most essential element of all!

King:    And that is?---

Zara:    Government by Party! Introduce that great and glorious
          element--at once the bulwark and foundation of England's
          greatness--and all will be well! No political measures
will
          endure, because one Party will assuredly undo all that
the
          other Party has done; and while grouse is to be shot, and
          foxes worried to death, the legislative action of the
coun-
          try will be at a standstill. Then there will be sickness
in
          plenty, endless lawsuits, crowded jails, interminable
confu-
          sion in the Army and Navy, and, in short, general and
unex-
          ampled prosperity!

All:     Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

Phantis: (aside)  Baffled!

Scaphio: But an hour will come!

King:    Your hour has come already--away with them, and let them
          wait my will! (Scaphio and Phantis are led off in
custody.)
          From this moment Government by Party is adopted, with all
          its attendant blessings; and henceforward Utopia will no
          longer be a Monarchy Limited, but, what is a great deal
          better, a Limited Monarchy!

                                FINALE

Zara:    There's a little group of isles beyond the wave--
               So tiny, you might almost wonder where it is--
          That nation is the bravest of the brave,
               And cowards are the rarest of all rarities.
          The proudest nations kneel at her command;
               She terrifies all foreign-born rapscallions;
          And holds the peace of Europe in her hand
               With half a score invincible battalions!

                    Such, at least, is the tale
                         Which is born on the gale,
                    From the island which dwells in the sea.
                         Let us hope, for her sake
                    That she makes no mistake--
                         That she's all the professes to be!

King:    Oh, may we copy all her maxims wise,
               And imitate her virtues and her charities;
          And may we, by degrees, acclimatize
               Her Parliamentary peculiarities!
          By doing so, we shall in course of time,
               Regenerate completely our entire land--
          Great Britain is the monarchy sublime,
               To which some add (others do not) Ireland.
                    Such at least is the tale, etc.

                               CURTAIN.

                    THE YEOMEN OF THE GUARD

                               or

                   The Merryman and His Maid

                            Book by
                          W.S. GILBERT

                            Music by
                        ARTHUR SULLIVAN

    First produced at the Savoy Theatre in London, England,
                      on October 3, 1888.

                    THE YEOMEN OF THE GUARD
                       DRAMATIS PERSONAE

SIR RICHARD CHOLMONDELEY [pronounced Chum'lee]
               (Lieutenant of the Tower)     Baritone

COLONEL FAIRFAX (under sentence of death)    Tenor

SERGEANT MERYLL (of the Yeomen of the Guard) Bass/Baritone

LEONARD MERYLL (his son)                     Tenor

JACK POINT (a Strolling Jester)              Light Baritone

WILFRED SHADBOLT
     (Head Jailer and Assistant Tormentor)   Bass/Baritone

THE HEADSMAN                                 Non-singing

FIRST YEOMAN                                 Baritone

SECOND YEOMAN                                Tenor

THIRD YEOMAN [optional]                      Baritone

FOURTH YEOMAN [optional]                     Tenor

FIRST CITIZEN                                Chorus

SECOND CITIZEN                               Chorus

ELSIE MAYNARD (a Strolling Singer)           Soprano

PHOEBE MERYLL (Sergeant Meryll's Daughter)   Mezzo-Soprano

DAME CARRUTHERS (Housekeeper to the Tower)   Contralto

KATE (her Niece)                             Soprano

Chorus of YEOMEN of the Guard, GENTLEMEN, CITIZENS, etc.

                      SCENE: Tower Green

                          16th Century

                             ACT I

                     [Scene.-- Tower Green]

                  [Phoebe discovered spinning.

          No. 1. When maiden loves, she sits and sighs
                    (INTRODUCTION and SONG)
                             Phoebe

PHOEBE              When maiden loves, she sits and sighs,
                         She wanders to and fro;
                    Unbidden tear-drops fill her eyes,
                    And to all questions she replies,
                         With a sad "Heigh-ho!"

                    'Tis but a little word--"Heigh-ho!"
                    So soft, 'tis scarcely heard--"Heigh-ho!"
                         An idle breath--
                         Yet life and death
                    May hang upon a maid's "Heigh-ho!"

                    When maiden loves, she mopes apart,
                         As owl mopes on a tree;
                    Although she keenly feels the smart,
                    She cannot tell what ails her heart,
                         With its sad "Ah, me!"

                    'Tis but a foolish sigh--"Ah, me!"
                    Born but to droop and die--"Ah, me!"
                         Yet all the sense
                         Of eloquence
                    Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"

                         Yet all the sense
                         Of eloquence
                    Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"
                         "Ah, me!", "Ah, me!"

                         Yet all the sense
                         Of eloquence
                    Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"

     [PHOEBE weeps

     [Enter WILFRED

WILFRED   Mistress Meryll!

PHOEBE    [looking up] Eh! Oh! it's you, is it? You may go
          away,if you like. Because I don't want you, you know.

WILFRED   Haven't you anything to say to me?

PHOEBE    Oh yes! Are the birds all caged? The wild beasts all
          littered down? All the locks, chains, bolts, and bars
          in good order? Is the Little Ease sufficiently
          comfortable? The racks, pincers, and thumbscrews all
          ready for work? Ugh! you brute!

WILFRED   These allusions to my professional duties are in
          doubtful taste. I didn't become a head-jailer because
          I like head-jailing. I didn't become an assistant-
          tormentor because I like assistant-tormenting. We
          can't all be sorcerers, you know. [PHOEBE is annoyed]
          Ah! you brought that upon yourself.

PHOEBE    Colonel Fairfax is not a sorcerer. He's a man of
          science and an alchemist.

WILFRED   Well, whatever he is, he won't be one for long, for
          he's to be beheaded to-day for dealings with the
          devil. His master nearly had him last night, when the
          fire broke out in the Beauchamp [pronounced Bee'cham]
          Tower.

PHOEBE    Oh! how I wish he had escaped in the confusion! But
          take care; there's still time for a reply to his
          petition for mercy.

WILFRED   Ah! I'm content to chance that. This evening at half-
          past seven-- ah! [Gesture of chopping off a head.]

PHOEBE    You're a cruel monster to speak so unfeelingly of the
          death of a young and handsome soldier.

WILFRED   Young and handsome! How do you know he's young and
          handsome?

PHOEBE    Because I've seen him every day for weeks past taking
          his exercise on the Beauchamp [pronounced Bee'cham]
          Tower.

WILFRED   Curse him!

PHOEBE    There, I believe you're jealous of him, now. Jealous
          of a man I've never spoken to! Jealous of a poor soul
          who's to die in an hour!

WILFRED   I am! I'm jealous of everybody and everything. I'm
          jealous of the very words I speak to you-- because they
          reach your ears-- and I mustn't go near 'em!

PHOEBE    How unjust you are! Jealous of the words you speak to
          me! Why, you know as well as I do that I don't even
          like them.

WILFRED   You used to like 'em.

PHOEBE    I used to pretend I like them. It was mere politeness
          to comparative strangers.

          [Exit PHOEBE, with spinning wheel

WILFRED   I don't believe you know what jealousy is! I don't
          believe you know how it eats into a man's heart-- and
          disorders his digestion-- and turns his interior into
          boiling lead. Oh, you are a heartless jade to trifle
          with the delicate organization of the human interior.

                 No. 1A. When jealous torments
                        (OPTIONAL SONG)
                            Wilfred

WILFRED        When jealous torments rack my soul,
                    My agonies I can't control,
               Oh, better sit on red hot coal
                    Than love a heartless jade.

               The red hot coal will hurt no doubt,
                    But red hot coals in time die out,
               But jealousy you can not rout,
                    Its fires will never fade.

               It's much less painful on the whole
                    To go and sit on red hot coal
               'Til you're completely flayed,
               Or ask a kindly friend to crack
                    Your wretched bones upon the rack
               Than love a heartless jade,
                    Than love a heartless jade.

               The kerchief on your neck of snow
                    I look on as a deadly foe,
               It goeth where I dare not go
                    And stops there all day long.

               The belt that holds you in its grasp
                    Is to my peace of mind a rasp,
               It claspeth what I can not clasp,
                    Correct me if I'm wrong.

               It's much less painful on the whole
                    To go and sit on red hot coal
               'Til you're completely flayed,
               Or ask a kindly friend to crack
                    Your wretched bones upon the rack
               Than love a heartless jade,
                    Than love a heartless jade.

               The bird that breakfasts on your lip,
                    I would I had him in my grip,
               He sippeth where I dare not sip,
                    I can't get over that.

               The cat you fondle soft and sly,
                    He layeth where I dare not lie.
               We're not on terms, that cat and I.
                    I do not like that cat.

               It's much less painful on the whole
                    To go and sit on red hot coal
               'Til you're completely flayed,
               Or ask a kindly friend to crack
                    Your wretched bones upon the rack
               Than love a heartless jade,
                    Than love a heartless jade.

               Or ask a kindly friend to crack
                    Your wretched bones upon the rack
               Than love a heartless jade.

     [Exit WILFRED. Enter people excitedly, followed by YEOMEN
     of the Guard with SERGEANT MERYLL at rear.

               No. 2. Tower warders, Under orders
                        (Double Chorus)
             CROWD and YEOMEN, with Solo 2ND YEOMEN

CROWD               Tower warders,
                    Under orders,
               Gallant pikemen, valiant sworders!
                    Brave in bearing,
                    Foemen scaring,
               In their bygone days of daring!
                    Ne'er a stranger
                    There to danger--
               Each was o'er the world a ranger;
                    To the story
                    Of our glory
               Each a bold, a bold contributory!

YEOMEN              In the autumn of our life,
                    Here at rest in ample clover,
                    We rejoice in telling over
                         Our impetuous May and June.
               In the evening of our day,
                    With the sun of life declining,
                    We recall without repining
                         All the heat of bygone noon,
                    We recall without repining
                         All the heat,
                    We recall, recall
                         All of bygone noon.

2ND YEOMAN          This the autumn of our life,
                    This the evening of our day;
               Weary we of battle strife,
                    Weary we of mortal fray.
               But our year is not so spent,
                    And our days are not so faded,
               But that we with one consent,
                    Were our loved land invaded,
                         Still would face a foreign foe,
                              As in days of long ago,
                         Still would face a foreign foe,
                              As in days of long ago,
                              As in days of long ago,
                              As in days of long ago.

YEOMEN                        Still would face a foreign foe,
                              As in days of long ago.

CROWD                    Tower warders,
                         Under orders,
                    Gallant pikemen, valiant sworders!
                         Brave in bearing, Foemen scaring,
                    In their bygone days of daring!

          CROWD                    YEOMEN

     Tower warders,           This the autumn of our life
          Under orders,      
     Gallant pikemen,
          Valiant sworders   
     Brave in bearing,        This the evening of our day;
          Foemen scaring,
     In their bygone days of daring!

     Ne'er a stranger         Weary we of battle strife,
          There to danger
     Each was o'er the world a ranger:

     To the story             Weary we of mortal fray.
          Of our glory
     Each a bold,
          A bold contributory.

     To the story             This the autumn of our life.
          Of our glory
     Each a bold contributory!    This the evening of our  day,
     Each a bold contributory!    This the evening of our  day.

     [Exit CROWD. Manent YEOMEN. Enter DAME CARRUTHERS.

DAME      A good day to you!

2ND
  YEOMAN  Good day, Dame Carruthers. Busy to-day?

DAME      Busy, aye! the fire in the Beauchamp [pronounced
          Bee'cham] last night has given me work enough. A dozen
          poor prisoners-- Richard Colfax, Sir Martin Byfleet,
          Colonel Fairfax, Warren the preacher-poet, and half-a-
          score others-- all packed into one small cell, not six
          feet square. Poor Colonel Fairfax, who's to die to-
          day, is to be removed to no. 14 in the Cold Harbour
          that he may have his last hour alone with his
          confessor; and I've to see to that.

2ND
  YEOMAN  Poor gentleman! He'll die bravely. I fought under him
          two years since, and he valued his life as it were a
          feather!

PHOEBE    He's the bravest, the handsomest, and the best young
          gentleman in England! He twice saved my father's life;
          and it's a cruel thing, a wicked thing, and a
          barbarous thing that so gallant a hero should lose his
          head-- for it's the handsomest head in England!

DAME      For dealings with the devil. Aye! if all were beheaded
          who dealt with him, there'd be busy things on Tower
          Green.

PHOEBE    You know very well that Colonel Fairfax is a student
          of alchemy-- nothing more, and nothing less; but this
          wicked Tower, like a cruel giant in a fairy-tale, must
          be fed with blood, and that blood must be the best and
          bravest in England, or it's not good enough for the
          old Blunderbore. Ugh!

DAME      Silence, you silly girl; you know not what you say. I
          was born in the old keep, and I've grown grey in it,
          and, please God, I shall die and be buried in it; and
          there's not a stone in its walls that is not as dear
          tome as my right hand.

              No. 3. When our gallant Norman foes
                       (SONG WITH CHORUS)
                   Dame Carruthers and Yeomen

DAME      When our gallant Norman foes
               Made our merry land their own,
               And the Saxons from the Conqueror were flying,

          At his bidding it arose,
               In its panoply of stone,
                    A sentinel unliving and undying.

          Insensible, I trow,
               As a sentinel should be,
               Though a queen to save her head should
                    come a-suing,
          There's a legend on its brow
               That is eloquent to me,
               And it tells of duty done and duty doing.

          The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
          And men may bleed and men may burn,
          O'er London town and its golden hoard
          I keep my silent watch and ward!

CHORUS    The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
          O'er London town and all its hoard,
          And men may bleed and men may burn,
          O'er London town and all its hoard,
          O'er London town and its golden hoard
          I keep my silent watch and ward!

DAME      Within its wall of rock
          The flower of the brave
               Have perished with a constancy unshaken.
          From the dungeon to the block,
               From the scaffold to the grave,
               Is a journey many gallant hearts have taken.

          And the wicked flames may hiss
               Round the heroes who have fought
               For conscience and for home in all its beauty,
          But the grim old fortalice
               Takes little heed of aught
                    That comes not in the measure of its duty.

          The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
          And men may bleed and men may burn,
          O'er London town and its golden hoard
          I keep my silent watch and ward!

CHORUS    The screw may twist and the rack may turn,
          O'er London town and all its hoard,
          And men may bleed and men may burn,
          O'er London town and all its hoard,
          O'er London town and its golden hoard
          I keep my silent watch and ward!

     [Exeunt all but PHOEBE. Enter SERGEANT MERYLL.

PHOEBE    Father! Has no reprieve arrived for the poor
          gentleman?

MERYLL    No, my lass; but there's one hope yet. Thy brother
          Leonard, who, as a reward for his valour in saving his
          standard and cutting his way through fifty foes who
          would have hanged him, has been appointed a Yeoman of
          the Guard, will arrive to-day; and as he comes
          straight from Windsor, where the Court is, it may be--
          it may be-- that he will bring the expected reprieve
          with him.

PHOEBE    Oh, that he may!

MERYLL    Amen to that! For the Colonel twice saved my life, and
          I'd give the rest of my life to save his! And wilt
          thou not be glad to welcome thy brave brother, with
          the fame of whose exploits all England is a-ringing?

PHOEBE    Aye, truly, if he brings the reprieve.

MERYLL    And not otherwise?

PHOEBE    Well, he's a brave fellow indeed, and I love brave
          men.

MERYLL    All brave men?

PHOEBE    Most of them, I verily believe! But I hope Leonard
          will not be too strict with me-- they say he is a very
          dragon of virtue and circumspection! Now, my dear old
          father is kindness itself, and----

MERYLL    And leaves thee pretty well to thine own ways, eh?
          Well, I've no fears for thee; thou hast a feather-
          brain, but thou'rt a good lass.

PHOEBE    Yes, that's all very well, but if Leonard is going to
          tell me that I may not do this and I may not do that,
          and I must not talk to this one, or walk with that
          one, but go through the world with my lips pursed up
          and my eyes cats down, like a poor nun who has
          renounced mankind-- why, as I have not renounced
          mankind, and don't mean to renounce mankind, I won't
          have it-- there!

MERYLL    Nay, he'll not check thee more than is good for thee,
          Phoebe! He's a brave fellow, and bravest among brave
          fellows, and yet it seems but yesterday that he robbed
          the Lieutenant's orchard.

                     No. 3A. A laughing boy
                        (OPTIONAL SONG)
                        Sergeant Meryll

MERYLL         A laughing boy but yesterday,
                    A merry urchin blithe and gay,
               Whose joyous shout came ringing out
                    Unchecked by care or sorrow.

               Today a warrior all sunbrown,
                    When deeds of soldierly renown
               Are not the boast of London town,
                    A veteran tomorrow, today a warrior,
                    A veteran tomorrow!

               When at my Leonard's deeds sublime,
                    A soldier's pulse beats double time,
               And grave hearts thrill as brave hearts will
                    At tales of martial glory.

               I burn with flush of pride and joy,
                    A pride unbittered by alloy,
               To find my boy, my darling boy,
                    The theme of song and story,
               To find my darling boy
                    The theme of song and story!
               To find my boy, my darling boy,
                    The theme of song and story!

     [Enter LEONARD MERYLL

LEONARD   Father!

MERYLL    Leonard! my brave boy! I'm right glad to see thee, and
          so is Phoebe!

PHOEBE    Aye-- hast thou brought Colonel Fairfax's reprieve?

LEONARD   Nay, I have here a despatch for the Lieutenant, but no
          reprieve for the Colonel!

PHOEBE    Poor gentleman! poor gentleman!

LEONARD   Aye, I would I had brought better news. I'd give my
          right hand-- nay, my body-- my life, to save his!

MERYLL    Dost thou speak in earnest, my lad?

LEONARD   Aye, father-- I'm no braggart. Did he not save thy
          life? and am I not his foster-brother?

MERYLL    Then hearken to me. Thou hast come to join the Yeomen
          of the Guard!

LEONARD   Well?

MERYLL    None has seen thee but ourselves?

LEONARD   And a sentry, who took scant notice of me.

MERYLL    Now to prove thy words. Give me the despatch and get
          thee hence at once! Here is money, and I'll send thee
          more. Lie hidden for a space, and let no one know.
          I'll convey a suit of Yeoman's uniform to the
          Colonel's cell-- he shall shave off his beard, so that
          none shall know him, and I'll own him as my son, the
          brave Leonard Meryll, who saved his flag and cut his
          way through fifty foes who thirsted for his life. He
          will be welcomed without question by my brother-
          Yeomen, I'll warrant that. Now, how to get access to
          the Colonel's cell? [To PHOEBE] The key is with they
          sour-faced admirer, Wilfred Shadbolt.

PHOEBE    [demurely] I think-- I say, I think-- I can get anything
          I want from Wilfred. I think-- mind I say, I think-- you
          may leave that to me.

MERYLL    Then get thee hence at once, lad-- and bless thee for
          this sacrifice.

PHOEBE    And take my blessing, too, dear, dear Leonard!

LEONARD   And thine. eh? Humph! Thy love is newborn; wrap it up
          carefully, lest it take cold and die.

                No. 4. Alas! I waver to and fro
                             (TRIO)
                  Phoebe, Leonard, and Meryll

PHOEBE              Alas! I waver to and fro!
                    Dark danger hangs upon the deed!

ALL                 Dark danger hangs upon the deed!

LEONARD             The scheme is rash and well may fail;
                    But ours are not the hearts that quail,
               The hands that shrink, the cheeks that pale
                    In hours of need!

ALL            No, ours are not the hearts that quail,
               The hands that shrink, the cheeks that pale
               The hands that shrink, the cheeks that pale
                    In hours of need!

MERYLL              The air I breathe to him I owe:
                    My life is his-- I count it naught!

PHOEBE
  and LEONARD       That life is his-- so count it naught!

MERYLL              And shall I reckon risks I run
               When services are to be done
               To save the life of such an one?
                    Unworthy thought! Unworthy thought!

PHOEBE
  and LEONARD       And shall we reckon risks we run
               To save the life of such an one?

ALL                 Unworthy thought! Unworthy thought!
               We may succeed-- who can foretell?
               May heav'n help our hope--
               May heav'n help our hope,
                         farewell!
               May heav'n help our hope,
               Help our hope,
                         farewell!

     [LEONARD embraces MERYLL and PHOEBE, and then exits. PHOEBE
     weeping.

MERYLL    [goes up to PHOEBE] Nay, lass, be of good cheer, we
          may save him yet.

PHOEBE    Oh! see, after-- they bring the poor gentleman from the
          Beauchamp! [pronounced Bee'cham] Oh, father! his hour
          is not yet come?

MERYLL    No, no-- they lead him to the Cold Harbour Tower to
          await his end in solitude. But softly-- the Lieutenant
          approaches! He should not see thee weep.

     [Enter FAIRFAX, guarded by YEOMEN. The LIEUTENANT enters,
     meeting him.

LIEUT.   Halt! Colonel Fairfax, my old friend, we meet but
          sadly.

FAIRFAX   Sir, I greet you with all good-will; and I thank you
          for the zealous acre with which you have guarded me
          from the pestilent dangers which threaten  human life
          outside. In this happy little community, Death, when
          he comes, doth so in punctual and business-like
          fashion; and, like a courtly gentleman, giveth due
          notice of his advent, that one may not be taken
          unawares.

LIEUT.   Sir, you bear this bravely, as a brave man should.

FAIRFAX   Why, sir, it is no light boon to die swiftly and
          surely at a given hour and in a given fashion! Truth
          to tell, I would gladly have my life; but if that may
          not be, I have the next best thing to it, which is
          death. Believe me, sir, my lot is not so much amiss!

PHOEBE    [aside to MERYLL] Oh, father, father, I cannot bear
          it!

MERYLL    My poor lass!

FAIRFAX   Nay, pretty one, why weepest thou? Come, be comforted.
          Such a life as mine is not worth weeping for. [sees
          MERYLL] Sergeant Meryll, is it not? [to LIEUTENANT]
          May I greet my old friend? [Shakes MERYLL's hand;
          MERYLL begins to weep] Why, man, what's all this? Thou
          and I have faced the grim old king a dozen times, and
          never has his majesty come to me in such goodly
          fashion. Keep a stout heart, good fellow-- we are
          soldiers, and we know how to die, thou and I. Take my
          word for it, it is easier to die well than to live
          well-- for, in sooth, I have tried both.

                     No. 5. Is life a boon?
                            (BALLAD)
                            Fairfax

FAIRFAX             Is life a boon?
                         If so, it must befall
                         That Death, whene'er he call,
               Must call too soon.
                         Though fourscore years he give,
                         Yet one would pray to live
               Another moon!
                         What kind of plaint have I,
                         Who perish in July,
                              who perish in July?
                         I might have had to die,
                         Perchance, in June!
                    I might have had to die,
                         Perchance, in June!

                    Is life a thorn?
                         Then count it not a whit!
                    Nay, count it not a whit!
                         Man is well done with it;
                    Soon as he's born
                         He should all means essay
                         To put the plague away;
                    And I, war-worn,
                         Poor captured fugitive,
                         My life most gladly give--
                         I might have had to live,
                         Another morn!
                    I might have had to live,
                         Another morn!

     [At the end, PHOEBE is led off, weeping, by MERYLL.

FAIRFAX   And now, Sir Richard, I have a boon to beg. I am in
          this strait for no better reason than because my
          kinsman, Sir Clarence Poltwhistle, one of the
          Secretaries of State, has charged me with sorcery, in
          order that he may succeed in my estate, which devolves
          to him provided I die unmarried.

LIEUT.   As thou wilt most surely do.

FAIRFAX   Nay, as I will most surely not do, by your worship's
          grace! I have a mind to thwart this good cousin of
          mine.

LIEUT.   How?

FAIRFAX   By marrying forthwith, to be sure!

LIEUT.   But heaven ha' mercy, whom wouldst thou marry?

FAIRFAX   Nay, I am indifferent on that score. Coming Death hath
          made of me a true and chivalrous knight, who holds all
          womankind in such esteem that the oldest, and the
          meanest, and the worst-favoured of them is good enough
          for him. So, my good Lieutenant, if thou wouldst serve
          a poor soldier who has but an hour to live, find me
          the first that comes-- my confessor shall marry us, and
          her dower shall be my dishonoured name and a hundred
          crowns to boot. No such poor dower for an hour of
          matrimony!

LIEUT.   A strange request. I doubt that I should be warranted
          in granting it.

FAIRFAX   There never was a marriage fraught with so little of
          evil to the contracting parties. In an hour she'll be
          a widow, and I-- a bachelor again for aught I know!

LIEUT.   Well, I will see what can be done, for I hold thy
          kinsman in abhorrence for the scurvy trick he has
          played thee.

FAIRFAX   A thousand thanks, good sir; we meet again in this
          spot in an hour or so. I shall be a bridegroom then,
          and your worship will wish me joy. Till then,
          farewell. [To GUARD] I am ready, good fellows.

     [Exit with GUARD into Cold Harbour Tower]

LIEUT.   He is a brave fellow, and it is a pity that he should
          die. Now, how to find him a bride at such short
          notice? Well, the task should be easy! [Exit]

     [Enter JACK POINT and ELSIE MAYNARD, pursued by a CROWD of
     men and women. POINT and ELSIE are much terrified; POINT,
     however, assuming an appearance of self-possession.

                 No. 6. Here's a man of jollity
                            (CHORUS)
                 People, Elsie, and Jack Point

CHORUS              Here's a man of jollity,
                    Jibe, joke, jollify!
               Give us of your quality,
                    Come, fool, follify!

               If you vapour vapidly,
               River runneth rapidly,
                    Into it we fling
                    Bird who doesn't sing!

               Give us an experiment
               In the art of merriment;
                    Into it we throw
                    Cock who doesn't crow!

               Banish your timidity,
               And with all rapidity
               Give us quip and quiddity--
                    Willy-nilly, O!

               River none can mollify;
                    Into it we throw
               Fool who doesn't follify,
                    Cock who doesn't crow!

               Banish your timidity,
               And with all rapidity
               Give us quip and quiddity--
                    Willy-nilly, O!

POINT     [alarmed] My masters, I pray you bear with us, and we
          will satisfy you, for we are merry folk who would make
          all merry as ourselves. For, look you, there is humour
          in all things, and the truest philosophy is that which
          teaches us to find it and to make the most of it.

ELSIE     [struggling with 1ST CITIZEN] Hands off, I say,
          unmannerly fellow! [she boxes his ears]

POINT     [to 1ST CITIZEN] Ha! Didst thou hear her say, "Hands
          off"?

1ST
CITIZEN  Aye, I heard her say it, and I felt her do it! What
          then?

POINT     Thou dost not see the humour of that?

1ST
CITIZEN  Nay, if I do, hang me!

POINT     Thou dost not? Now, observe. She said, "Hands off!
          "Whose hands? Thine. Off whom? Off her. Why? Because
          she is a woman. Now, had she not been a woman, thine
          hands had not been set upon her at all. So the reason
          for the laying on of hands is the reason for the
          taking off of hands, and herein is contradiction
          contradicted! It is the very marriage of pro with con;
          and no such lopsided union either, as times go, for
          pro is not more unlike con than man is unlike woman--
          yet men and women marry every day with none to say,
          "Oh, the pity of it!" but I and fools like me! Now
          wherewithal shall we please you? We can rhyme you
          couplet, triolet, quatrain, sonnet,rondolet, ballade,
          what you will. Or we can dance you saraband, gondolet,
          carole, pimpernel, or Jumping Joan.

ELSIE     Let us give them the singing farce of the Merryman and
          his Maid-- therein is song and dance too.

ALL       Aye, the Merryman and his Maid!

                No. 7. I have a song to sing, O!
                             (DUET)
                        Elsie and Point

POINT               I have a song to sing, O!

ELSIE               Sing me your song, O!

POINT                    It is sung to the moon
                    By a love-lorn loon,
               Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
          It's a song of a merryman, moping mum,
          Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
          Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
               As he sighed for the love of a ladye.
                    Heighdy! heighdy!
                    Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
          He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
               As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

ELSIE               I have a song to sing, O!

POINT               Sing me your song, O!

ELSIE                    It is sung with the ring
                    Of the songs maids sing
               Who love with a love life-long, O!
          It's the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud,
          Who loved a lord, and who laughed aloud
          At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
          Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
          Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
               As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
                    Heighdy! heighdy!
                    Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
          He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
          As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

POINT               I have a song to sing, O!

ELSIE               Sing me your song, O!

POINT                    It is sung to the knell
                    Of a churchyard bell,
          And a doleful dirge, ding dong, O!
          It's a song of a popinjay, bravely born,
          Who turned up his noble nose with scorn
          At the humble merrymaid, peerly proud,
          Who loved a lord, and who laughed aloud
          At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
          Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
          Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
               As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
                    Heighdy! heighdy!
                    Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
          He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
          As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

ELSIE               I have a song to sing, O!

POINT               Sing me your song, O!

ELSIE               It is sung with a sigh
               And a tear in the eye,
          For it tells of a righted wrong, O!
          It's a song of the merrymaid, once so gay,
          Who turned on her heel and tripped away
          From the peacock popinjay, bravely born,
          Who turned up his noble nose with scorn
          At the humble heart that he did not prize:
          So she begged on her knees, with downcast eyes,
          For the love of the merryman, moping mum,
          Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
          Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
               As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

BOTH           Heighdy! heighdy!
               Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
          His pains were o'er, and he sighed no more,
          For he lived in the love of a ladye!

               Heighdy! heighdy!
               Misery me--lack-a-day-dee!
          His pains were o'er, and he sighed no more,
          For he lived in the love of a ladye!

1ST
CITIZEN  Well sung and well danced!

2ND
CITIZEN  A kiss for that, pretty maid!

ALL       Aye, a kiss all round. [CROWD gathers around her]

ELSIE     [drawing dagger] Best beware! I am armed!

POINT     Back, sirs-- back! This is going too far.

2ND
CITIZEN  Thou dost not see the humour of it, eh? Yet there is
          humour in all things-- even in this. [Trying to kiss
          her]

ELSIE     Help! Help!

     [Enter LIEUTENANT with GUARD. CROWD falls back

LIEUT.   What is the pother?

ELSIE     Sir, we sang to these folk, and they would have repaid
          us with gross courtesy, but for your honour's coming.

LIEUT.   [to CROWD] Away with ye! Clear the rabble.

          [GUARDS push CROWD off, and go off with them]

          Now, my girl, who are you, and what do you here?

ELSIE     May it please you, sir, we are two strolling players,
          Jack Point and I, Elsie Maynard, at your worship's
          service. We go from fair to fair, singing, and
          dancing, and playing brief interludes; and so we make
          a poor living.

LIEUT.   You two, eh? Are ye man and wife?

POINT     No, sir; for though I'm a fool, there is a limit to my
          folly. Her mother, old Bridget Maynard, travels with
          us (for Elsie is a good girl), but the old woman is a-
          bed with fever, and we have come here to pick up some
          silver to buy an electuary for her.

LIEUT.   Hark ye, my girl! Your mother is ill?

ELSIE     Sorely ill, sir.

LIEUT.   And needs good food, and many things that thou canst
          not buy?

ELSIE     Alas! sir, it is too true.

LIEUT.   Wouldst thou earn an hundred crowns?

ELSIE     An hundred crowns! They might save her life!

LIEUT.   Then listen! A worthy but unhappy gentleman is to be
          beheaded in an hour on this very spot. For sufficient
          reasons, he desires to marry before he dies, and he
          hath asked me to find him a wife. Wilt thou be that
          wife?

ELSIE     The wife of a man I have never seen!

POINT     Why, sir, look you, I am concerned in this; for though
          I am not yet wedded to Elsie Maynard, time works
          wonders, and there's no knowing what may be in store
          for us. Have we your worship's word for it that this
          gentleman will die to-day?

LIEUT.   Nothing is more certain, I grieve to say.

POINT     And that the maiden will be allowed to depart the very
          instant the ceremony is at an end?

LIEUT.   The very instant. I pledge my honour that it shall be
          so.

POINT     An hundred crowns?

LIEUT.   An hundred crowns!

POINT     For my part, I consent. It is for Elsie to speak.

            No. 8. How say you, maiden, will you wed
                             (TRIO)
                  Elsie, Point, and Lieutenant

LIEUT.             How say you, maiden, will you wed
               A man about to lose his head?
                    For half an hour
                         You'll be his wife,
                    And then the dower
                         Is your for life.
               A headless bridegroom why refuse?
                    If truth the poets tell,
               Most bridegrooms, 'ere they marry,
                    Lose both head and heart as well!

ELSIE               A strange proposal you reveal,
               It almost makes my senses reel.
               Alas! I'm very poor indeed,
               And such a sum I sorely need.
                    My mother, sir, is like to die.
                         This money life may bring.
                    Bear this in mind, I pray,
                         If I consent to do this thing!

POINT               Though as a general rule of life
               I don't allow my promised wife,
               My lovely bride that is to be,
               To marry anyone but me,
                    Yet if the fee is promptly paid,
                         And he, in well-earned grave,
                    Within the hour is duly laid,
                         Objection I will waive!
                         Yes, objection I will waive!

ALL            Temptation, oh, temptation,
                    Were we, I pray, intended
               To shun, what e'er our station,
                    Your fascinations splendid;
               Or fall, whene'er we view you,
               Head over heels into you?
               Head over heels, Head over heels,
                    Head over heels into you!
               Head over heels, Head over heels,
                    Head over heels, Right into you!
               Head over heels, Head over heels, etc.
                    Temptation, oh, temptation!

          [During this, the LIEUTENANT has whispered to WILFRED
          (who has entered). WILFRED binds ELSIE's eyes with a
          kerchief, and leads her into the Cold Harbour Tower

LIEUT.   And so, good fellow, you are a jester?

POINT     Aye, sir, and like some of my jests, out of place.

LIEUT.   I have a vacancy for such an one. Tell me, what are
          your qualifications for such a post?

POINT     Marry, sir, I have a pretty wit. I can rhyme you
          extempore; I can convulse you with quip and
          conundrum;I have the lighter philosophies at my
          tongue's tip; I can be merry, wise, quaint, grim, and
          sardonic, one by one, or all at once; I have a pretty
          turn for anecdote; I know all the jests-- ancient and
          modern-- past, present, and to come; I can riddle you
          from dawn of day to set of sun, and, if that content
          you not, well on to midnight and the small hours. Oh,
          sir, a pretty wit, I warrant you-- a pretty, pretty
          wit!

                   No. 9. I've jibe and joke
                             (SONG)
                             Point

POINT                    I've jibe and joke
                         And quip and crank
                    For lowly folk
                         And men of rank.
                    I ply my craft
                         And know no fear.
                    But aim my shaft
                         At prince or peer.
                    At peer or prince-- at prince or peer,
                    I aim my shaft and know no fear!

               I've wisdom from the East and from the West,
                    That's subject to no academic rule;
               You may find it in the jeering of a jest,
                    Or distil it from the folly of a fool.
               I can teach you with a quip, if I've a mind;
               I can trick you into learning with a laugh;
               Oh, winnow all my folly, folly, folly, and
                         you'll find
                    A grain or two of truth among the chaff!
               Oh, winnow all my folly, folly, folly, and
                         you'll find
                    A grain or two of truth among the chaff!

               I can set a braggart quailing with a quip,
                    The upstart I can wither with a whim;
               He may wear a merry laugh upon his lip,
                    But his laughter has an echo that is grim.
               When they're offered to the world in merry
                         guise,
               Unpleasant truths are swallowed with a will,
               For he who'd make his fellow,
                         fellow, fellow creatures wise
                    Should always gild the philosophic pill!
               For he who'd make his fellow,
                         fellow, fellow creatures wise
                    Should always gild the philosophic pill!

LIEUT.   And how came you to leave your last employ?

POINT     Why, sir, it was in this wise. My Lord was the
          Archbishop of Canterbury, and it was considered that
          one of my jokes was unsuited to His Grace's family
          circle. In truth, I ventured to ask a poor riddle,
          sir-- Wherein lay the difference between His Grace and
          poor Jack Point? His Grace was pleased to give it up,
          sir. And thereupon I told him that whereas His Grace
          was paid 10,000 a year for being good, poor Jack Point
          was good-- for nothing. 'Twas but a harmless jest, but
          it offended His Grace, who whipped me and set me in
          the stocks for a scurril rogue, and so we parted. I
          had as lief not take post again with the dignified
          clergy.

LIEUT.   But I trust you are very careful not to give offence.
          I have daughters.

POINT     Sir, my jests are most carefully selected, and
          anything objectionable is expunged. If your honour
          pleases, I will try then first on your honour's
          chaplain.

LIEUT.   Can you give me an example? Say that I had sat me down
          hurriedly on something sharp?

POINT     Sir, I should say that you had sat down on the spur of
          the moment.

LIEUT.   Humph! I don't think much of that. Is that the best
          you can do?

POINT     It has always been much admired, sir, but we will try
          again.

LIEUT.   Well, then, I am at dinner, and the joint of meat is
          but half cooked.

POINT     Why then, sir, I should say that what is underdone
          cannot be helped.

LIEUT.   I see. I think that manner of thing would be somewhat
          irritating.

POINT     At first, sir, perhaps; but use is everything, and you
          would come in time to like it.

LIEUT.   We will suppose that I caught you kissing the kitchen
          wench under my very nose.

POINT     Under her very nose, good sir-- not under yours! That
          is where I would kiss her. Do you take me? Oh, sir, a
          pretty wit-- a pretty, pretty wit!

LIEUT.   The maiden comes. Follow me, friend, and we will
          discuss this matter at length in my library.

POINT     I am your worship's servant. That is to say, I trust
          I soon shall be. But, before proceeding to a more
          serious topic, can you tell me, sir, why a cook's
          brain-pan is like an overwound clock?

LIEUT.   A truce to this fooling-- follow me.

POINT     Just my luck; my best conundrum wasted!

     [Exeunt LIEUTENANT and POINT. Enter ELSIE from Tower, led
     by WILFRED, who removes the bandage from her eyes, and
     exits.

                No. 10. 'Tis done! I am a bride!
                     (RECITATIVE AND SONG)
                             Elsie

ELSIE          'Tis done! I am a bride! Oh, little ring,
               That bearest in thy circlet all the gladness
          That lovers hope for, and that poets sing,
               What bringest thou to me but gold and sadness?
          A bridegroom all unknown, save in this wise,
               To-day he dies! To-day, alas, he dies!

               Though tear and long-drawn sigh
                    Ill fit a bride,
               No sadder wife than I
                    The whole world wide!
                         Ah me! Ah me!
                    Yet maids there be
               Who would consent to lose
                    The very rose of youth,
                         The flow'r of life,
                    To be, in honest truth,
                    A wedded wife,
                         No matter whose!
                         No matter whose!

               Ah me! what profit we,
                    O maids that sigh,
               Though gold, though gold should live
                    If wedded love must die?

               Ere half an hour has rung,
                    A widow I!
               Ah, heaven, he is too young,
                    Too brave to die!
                         Ah me! Ah me!
               Yet wives there be
                    So weary worn, I trow,
                    That they would scarce complain,
                         So that they could
                    In half an hour attain
                         To widowhood,
                         No matter how!
                         No matter how!

                    O weary wives
                         Who widowhood would win,
                    Rejoice, rejoice, that ye have time
                         To weary in.

                    O weary wives
                         Who widowhood would win,
                    Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice,
                         that ye have time
                    O weary, weary wives, rejoice!

     [Exit ELSIE as WILFRED re-enters.

WILFRED   [looking after ELSIE] 'Tis an odd freak for a dying
          man and his confessor to be closeted alone with a
          strange singing girl. I would fain have espied them,
          but they stopped up the keyhole. My keyhole!

     [Enter PHOEBE with SERGEANT MERYLL. MERYLL remains in the
     background, unobserved by WILFRED.

PHOEBE    [aside] Wilfred-- and alone!

WILFRED   Now what could he have wanted with her? That's what
          puzzles me!

PHOEBE    [aside] Now to get the keys from him.

          [Aloud] Wilfred-- has no reprieve arrived?

WILFRED   None. Thine adored Fairfax is to die.

PHOEBE    Nay, thou knowest that I have naught but pity for the
          poor condemned gentleman.

WILFRED   I know that he who is about to die is more to thee
          than I, who am alive and well.

PHOEBE    Why, that were out of reason, dear Wilfred. Do they
          not say that a live ass is better than a dead lion?
          No, I didn't mean that!

WILFRED   Oh, they say that, do they?

PHOEBE    It's unpardonably rude of them, but I believe they put
          it in that way. Not that it applies to thee, who art
          clever beyond all telling!

WILFRED   Oh yes, as an assistant-tormentor.

PHOEBE    Nay, as a wit, as a humorist, as a most philosophic
          commentator on the vanity of human resolution.

     [PHOEBE slyly takes bunch of keys from WILFRED's waistband
     and hands them to MERYLL, who enters the Tower, unnoticed
     by WILFRED.

WILFRED   Truly, I have seen great resolution give way under my
          persuasive methods [working with a small thumbscrew].
          In the nice regulation of a thumbscrew-- in the
          hundredth part of a single revolution lieth all the
          difference between stony reticence and a torrent of
          impulsive unbosoming that the pen can scarcely follow.
          Ha! ha! I am a mad wag.

PHOEBE    [with a grimace] Thou art a most light-hearted and
          delightful companion, Master Wilfred. Thine anecdotes
          of the torture-chamber are the prettiest hearing.

WILFRED   I'm a pleasant fellow an' I choose. I believe I am the
          merriest dog that barks. Ah, we might be passing happy
          together--

PHOEBE    Perhaps. I do not know.

WILFRED   For thou wouldst make a most tender and loving wife.

PHOEBE    Aye, to one whom I really loved. For there is a wealth
          of love within this little heart-- saving up for-- I
          wonder whom? Now, of all the world of men, I wonder
          whom? To think that he whom I am to wed is now alive
          and somewhere! Perhaps far away, perhaps close at
          hand! And I know him not! It seemeth that I am wasting
          time in not knowing him.

WILFRED   Now say that it is I-- nay! suppose it for the nonce.
          Say that we are wed-- suppose it only-- say that thou
          art my very bride, and I thy cherry, joyous, bright,
          frolicsome husband-- and that, the day's work being
          done, and the prisoners stored away for the night,
          thou and I are alone together-- with a long, long
          evening before us!

PHOEBE    [with a grimace] It is a pretty picture-- but I
          scarcely know. It cometh so unexpectedly-- and yet--and
          yet-- were I thy bride--

WILFRED   Aye!-- wert thou my bride--?

PHOEBE    Oh, how I would love thee!

                    No. 11. Were I thy bride
                             (SONG)
                             Phoebe

PHOEBE                   Were I thy bride,
               Then all the world beside
                    Were not too wide
                         To hold my wealth of love--
                    Were I thy bride!

                    Upon thy breast
               My loving head would rest,
                    As on her nest
                         The tender turtle dove--
                    Were I thy bride!

                    This heart of mine
               Would be one heart with thine,
                    And in that shrine
                         Our happiness would dwell--
                    Were I thy bride!

                    And all day long
               Our lives should be a song:
                    No grief, no wrong
                         Should make my heart rebel--
                    Were I thy bride!

                    The silvery flute,
               The melancholy lute,
                    Were night-owl's hoot
                         To my low-whispered coo--
                    Were I thy bride!

                    The skylark's trill
               Were but discordance shrill
                    To the soft thrill
                         Of wooing as I'd woo--
                    Were I thy bride!

          [MERYLL re-enters; gives keys to PHOEBE, who replaces
          them at WILFRED's girdle, unnoticed by him. Exit
          MERYLL.

                    The rose's sigh
               Were as a carrion's cry
                    To lullaby
                         Such as I'd sing to thee,
                    Were I thy bride!

                    A feather's press
               Were leaden heaviness to my caress.
                         But then, of course, you see,
                    I'm not thy bride.

     [Exit PHOEBE

WILFRED   No, thou'rt not-- not yet! But, Lord, how she woo'd; I
          should be no mean judge of wooing, seeing that I have
          been more hotly woo'd than most men. I have been woo'd
          by maid, widow, and wife. I have been woo'd boldly,
          timidly, tearfully, shyly-- by direct assault, by
          suggestion, by implication, by inference, and by
          innuendo. But this wooing is not of the common order;
          it is the wooing of one who must needs me, if she die
          for it!

     [Exit WILFRED. Enter SERGEANT MERRILL, cautiously, from
     Tower.

MERYLL    [looking after them] The deed is, so far, safely
          accomplished. The slyboots, how she wheedled him! What
          a helpless ninny is a love-sick man! He is but as a
          lute in a woman's hands-- she plays upon him whatever
          tune she will. But the Colonel comes. I' faith, he's
          just in time, for the Yeomen parade here for his
          execution in two minutes!

     [Enter FAIRFAX, without beard and moustache, and dressed in
     Yeoman's uniform.

FAIRFAX   My good and kind friend, thou runnest a grave risk for
          me!

MERYLL    Tut, sir, no risk. I'll warrant none here will
          recognise you. You make a brave Yeoman, sir! So-- this
          ruff is too high; so-- and the sword should hang thus.
          Here is your halbert, sir; carry it thus. The Yeomen
          come. Now, remember, you are my brave son, Leonard
          Meryll.

FAIRFAX   If I may not bear mine own name, there is none other
          I would bear so readily.

MERYLL    Now, sir, put a bold face on it, for they come.

            No. 12. Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true
                       (FINALE OF ACT I)
                            Ensemble

     [Enter YEOMEN of the Guard

YEOMEN         Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true--
               The welcome news we read in orders?
          Thy son, whose deeds of derring-do
          Are echoed all the country through,
               Has come to join the Tower Warders?
          If so, we come to meet him,
          That we may fitly greet him,
          And welcome his arrival here
          With shout on shout and cheer on cheer,
               Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

MERYLL         Ye Tower warders, nursed in war's alarms,
               Suckled on gunpowder, and weaned on glory,
          Behold my son, whose all-subduing arms
               Have formed the theme of many a song and story!
                    Forgive his aged father's pride; nor jeer
                         His aged father's sympathetic tear!
          [Pretending to weep]

YEOMEN                   Leonard Meryll!
                    Leonard Meryll!
               Dauntless he in time of peril!
                    Man of power,
                    Knighthood's flower,
               Welcome to the grim old Tower,
               To the Tower, welcome thou!

FAIRFAX        Forbear, my friends, and spare me this ovation,
          I have small claim to such consideration;
          The tales that of my prowess are narrated
          Have been prodigiously exaggerated,
                    prodigiously exaggerated!

YEOMEN                   'Tis ever thus!
               Wherever valor true is found,
               True modesty will there abound.

1ST YEOMAN          Didst thou not, oh, Leonard Meryll!
                    Standard lost in last campaign,
               Rescue it at deadly peril--
                    Bear it safely back again?

YEOMEN              Leonard Meryll, at his peril,
               Bore it safely back again!

2ND YEOMAN          Didst thou not, when prisoner taken,
                    And debarred from all escape,
               Face, with gallant heart unshaken,
                    Death in most appalling shape?

YEOMEN              Leonard Meryll, faced his peril,
               Death in most appalling shape!

FAIRFAX [aside]          Truly I was to be pitied,
                         Having but an hour to live,
                    I reluctantly submitted,
                         I had no alternative!

FAIRFAX [aloud]          Oh! the tales that are narrated
                    Of my deeds of derring-do
               Have been much exaggerated,
                    Very much exaggerated,
                    Scarce a word of them is true!
                    Scarce a word of them is true!

YEOMEN         They are not exaggerated,
                    Not at all exaggerated,
                    Could not be exaggerated,
                    Ev'ry word of them is true!

3RD YEOMAN [optional]    You, when brought to execution,
                         Like a demigod of yore,
                    With heroic resolution
                    Snatched a sword and killed a score.

YEOMEN [optional]        Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll
                    Snatched a sword and killed a score!

4TH YEOMAN [optional]    Then escaping from the foemen,
                         Boltered with the blood you shed,
                    You, defiant, fearing no men,
                         Saved your honour and your head!

YEOMEN [optional]        Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll
                    Saved his honour and his head.

FAIRFAX [optional]       True, my course with judgement
                                   shaping,
                         Favoured, too, by lucky star,
                    I succeeded in escaping
                         Prison-bolt and prison bar!

FAIRFAX [optional]       Oh! the tales that are narrated
                         Of my deeds of derring-do
                    Have been much exaggerated,
                         Very much exaggerated,
                         Scarce a word of them is true!
                         Scarce a word of them is true!

YEOMEN [optional]        They are not exaggerated,
                         Not at all exaggerated,
                         Could not be exaggerated,
                         Ev'ry word of them is true!

     [Enter PHOEBE. She rushes to FAIRFAX. Enter WILFRED.

PHOEBE              Leonard!

FAIRFAX             [puzzled] I beg your pardon?

PHOEBE              Don't you know me? I'm little Phoebe!

FAIRFAX             [still puzzled] Phoebe? Is this Phoebe?
                    What! little Phoebe?
                    [aside] Who the deuce may she be?
                    It can't be Phoebe, surely?

WILFRED             Yes, 'tis Phoebe--
                    Your sister Phoebe! Your own little sister!

YEOMEN              Aye, he speaks the truth; 'Tis Phoebe!

FAIRFAX             [pretending to recognise her]
                    Sister Phoebe!

PHOEBE              Oh, my brother!

FAIRFAX             Why, how you've grown!
                    I did not recognize you!

PHOEBE              So many years! Oh, brother!

FAIRFAX             Oh, my sister!

BOTH                Oh, brother!/Oh, sister!

WILFRED             Aye, hug him, girl!
               There are three thou mayst hug--
               Thy father and thy brother and-- myself!

FAIRFAX             Thyself, forsooth?
                    And who art thou thyself?

WILFRED             Good sir, we are betrothed.

          [FAIRFAX turns inquiringly to PHOEBE

PHOEBE              Or more or less--
               But rather less than more!

WILFRED             To thy fond care
               I do commend thy sister.
               Be to her
                    An ever-watchful guardian-- eagle-eyed!
               And when she feels (as sometimes she does feel)
               Disposed to indiscriminate caress,
               Be thou at hand to take those favours from her!

YEOMEN         Be thou at hand to take those favours from her!

PHOEBE              Yes, yes.
               Be thou at hand to take those favours from me!

WILFRED             To thy fraternal care
                    Thy sister I commend;
               From every lurking snare
                    Thy lovely charge defend;
                    And to achieve this end,
               Oh! grant, I pray, this boon--
                    Oh! grant this boon
               She shall not quit my sight;
               From morn to afternoon--
                    From afternoon to night--
               From sev'n o'clock to two--
                    From two to eventide--
               From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night,
               From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night
                    She shall not quit my side!

YEOMEN         From morn to afternoon--
                    From afternoon to 'lev'n at night
                    She shall not quit thy side!

PHOEBE              So amiable I've grown,
                    So innocent as well,
               That if I'm left alone
                    The consequences fell
                    No mortal can foretell.
               So grant, I pray, this boon--
               Oh! grant this boon
                    I shall not quit thy sight:
               From morn to afternoon--
                    From afternoon to night--
               From sev'n o'clock to two--
                    From two to eventide--
               From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night
               From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night
                    I shall not quit thy side!

YEOMEN         From morn to afternoon--
                    From afternoon to 'lev'n at night
                    She shall not quit thy side!

FAIRFAX             With brotherly readiness,
                    For my fair sister's sake,
               At once I answer "Yes"--
                    That task I undertake--
                    My word I never break.
               I freely grant that boon,
                    And I'll repeat my plight.
               From morn to afternoon--            [kiss]
                    From afternoon to night--      [kiss]
               From sev'n o'clock to two--         [kiss]
                    From two to evening meal--     [kiss]
               From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night,
               From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night,
                    That compact I will seal.    [kiss]

YEOMEN         From morn to afternoon,
                    From afternoon to 'lev'n at night
                    He freely grants that boon.

     [The bell of St. Peter's begins to toll. The CROWD enters;
     the block is brought on to the stage, and the HEADSMAN
     takes his place. The YEOMEN of the Guard form up. The
     LIEUTENANT enters and takes his place, and tells off
     FAIRFAX and two others to bring the prisoner to execution.
     WILFRED, FAIRFAX, and TWO YEOMEN exeunt to Tower.

CHORUS              The prisoner comes to meet his doom;
               The block, the headsman, and the tomb.
               The funeral bell begins to toll;
               May Heav'n have mercy on his soul!
               May Heav'n have mercy on his soul!

ELSIE               Oh, Mercy, thou whose smile has shone
                    So many a captive heart upon;
               Of all immured within these walls,
                    To-day the very worthiest falls!

ALL            Oh, Mercy, thou whose smile has shone
                    So many a captive heart upon;
               Of all immured within these walls,
                    The very worthiest falls.
                         Oh, Mercy, Oh, Mercy!

     [Enter FAIRFAX and TWO YEOMEN from Tower in great
     excitement.

FAIRFAX             My lord! I know not how to tell
                    The news I bear!
               I and my comrades sought the pris'ner's cell--
                    He is not there!

ALL                 He is not there!
               They sought the pris'ner's cell--
                         he is not there!

FAIRFAX AND
  TWO YEOMEN        As escort for the prisoner
                    We sought his cell, in duty bound;
               The double gratings open were,
                    No prisoner at all we found!

               We hunted high, we hunted low,
                    We hunted here, we hunted there--
               The man we sought with anxious care
                    Had vanished into empty air!
               The man we sought with anxious care
                    Had vanished into empty air!

     [Exit LIEUTENANT

WOMEN               Now, by my troth, the news is fair,
               The man has vanished into air!

ALL            As escort for the prisoner
                    We/they sought his cell in duty bound;
               The double gratings open were,
                    No prisoner at all we/they found,
               We/they hunted high, we/they hunted low,
                    We/they hunted here, we/they hunted there,
               The man we/they sought with anxious care
                    Had vanished into empty air!
               The man we/they sought with anxious care
                    Had vanished into empty air!

     [Enter WILFRED, followed by LIEUTENANT

LIEUT.             Astounding news! The pris'ner fled!
               [To WILFRED] Thy life shall forfeit be instead!

     [WILFRED is arrested

WILFRED             My lord, I did not set him free,
               I hate the man-- my rival he!

MERYLL              The pris'ner gone-- I'm all agape!

LIEUT.             Thy life shall forfeit be instead!

MERYLL              Who could have helped him to escape?

WILFRED             My lord, I did not set him free!

PHOEBE              Indeed I can't imagine who!
               I've no idea at all, have you?

     [Enter JACK POINT

DAME           Of his escape no traces lurk,
               Enchantment must have been at work!

ELSIE               [aside to POINT]
               What have I done? Oh, woe is me!

PHOEBE & DAME       Indeed I can't imagine who!
               I've no idea at all, have you?

ELSIE               I am his wife, and he is free!

POINT               Oh, woe is you? Your anguish sink!
               Oh, woe is me, I rather think!
               Oh, woe is me, I rather think!
               Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
                    Whate'er betide
                    You are his bride,
                    And I am left
                    Alone-- bereft!
               Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
               Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
               Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me,
               Yes, woe is me, I rather think!

ENSEMBLE            All frenzied with despair I/they rave,
                    The grave is cheated of its due.
               Who is, who is the misbegotten knave
                    Who hath contrived this deed to do?

               Let search, let search
                    Be made throughout the land,
                    Or his/my vindictive anger dread--
               A thousand marks, a thousand marks
                         he'll/I'll hand
                    Who brings him here, alive or dead,
                    Who brings him here, alive or dead!
               A thousand marks, a thousand marks,
                    Alive, alive or dead
                    Alive, alive or dead
               Who brings him here, alive, alive, or dead.

     [At the end, ELSIE faints in FAIRFAX's arms; all the YEOMEN
     and CROWD rush off the stage in different directions, to
     hunt for the fugitive, leaving only the HEADSMAN on the
     stage, and ELSIE insensible in FAIRFAX's arms.
     
                          END OF ACT I
                             ACT II

                [SCENE.-- The same-- Moonlight.]

                    [Two days have elapsed.]

     [WOMEN and YEOMEN of the Guard discovered.

          No. 13. Night has spread her pall once more
                       (CHORUS AND SOLO)
              People, Yeomen, and Dame Carruthers

CHORUS              Night has spread her pall once more,
                    And the pris'ner still is free:
               Open is his dungeon door,
                    Useless now his dungeon key.
               He has shaken off his yoke--
                    How, no mortal man can tell!
               Shame on loutish jailor-folk--
                    Shame on sleepy sentinel!

     [Enter DAME CARRUTHERS and KATE

DAME           Warders are ye?
                    Whom do ye ward?
               Warders are ye?
                    Whom do ye ward?
               Bolt, bar, and key,
                    Shackle and cord,
               Fetter and chain,
                    Dungeon and stone,
               All are in vain--
                    Prisoner's flown!
          Spite of ye all, he is free-- he is free!
          Whom do ye ward? Pretty warders are ye!

WOMEN               Pretty warders are ye!
                    Whom do ye ward?
               Spite of ye all, he is free-- he is free!
               Whom do ye ward?
                    Pretty warders are ye!

MEN            Up and down, and in and out,
               Here and there, and round about;
               Ev'ry chamber, ev'ry house,
               Ev'ry chink that holds a mouse,
               Ev'ry crevice in the keep,
               Where a beetle black could creep,
               Ev'ry outlet, ev'ry drain,
               Have we searched, but all in vain, all in vain.

WOMEN               Warders are ye?
                    Whom do ye ward?

MEN            Ev'ry house, ev'ry chink, ev'ry drain,

WOMEN               Warders are ye?
                    Whom do ye ward?

MEN            Ev'ry chamber, ev'ry outlet,
               Have we searched, but all in vain.

WOMEN               Night has spread her pall once more,
               And the pris'ner still is free:

MEN            Warders are we? Whom do we ward?
                         Whom do we ward?
               Warders are we? Whom do we ward?
                         Whom do we ward?

WOMEN               Open is his dungeon door,
               Useless his dungeon key!

ALL            Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!

MEN            Pretty warders are we, he is free!
               Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!

WOMEN               Open is his dungeon door,

MEN            Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!
               Pretty warders are we, he is free! He is free!

WOMEN          He is free! He is free!
                    Pretty warders are ye,

ALL            He is free! He is free!
                    Pretty warders are ye/we!

     [Exeunt all.

     [Enter JACK POINT, in low spirits, reading from a huge
     volume

POINT     [reads] "The Merrie Jestes of Hugh Ambrose, No.
          7863.The Poor Wit and the Rich Councillor. A certayne
          poor wit, being an-hungered, did meet a well-fed
          councillor.'Marry, fool,' quothe the councillor,
          'whither away?' 'In truth,' said the poor wag, 'in
          that I have eaten naught these two dayes, I do wither
          away, and that right rapidly!' The Councillor laughed
          hugely, and gave him a sausage." Humph! the councillor
          was easier to please than my new master the
          Lieutenant. I would like to take post under that
          councillor. Ah! 'tis but melancholy mumming when poor
          heart-broken, jilted Jack Point must needs turn to
          Hugh Ambrose for original light humour!

     [Enter WILFRED, also in low spirits.

WILFRED   [sighing] Ah, Master Point!

POINT     [changing his manner] Ha! friend jailer! Jailer that
          wast-- jailer that never shalt be more! Jailer that
          jailed not, or that jailed, if jail he did, so
          unjailery that 'twas but jerry-jailing, or jailing in
          joke-- though no joke to him who, by unjailerlike
          jailing, did so jeopardise his jailership. Come, take
          heart, smile, laugh, wink, twinkle, thou tormentor
          that tormentest none-- thou racker that rackest not--
          thou pincher out of place-- come, take heart, and be
          merry, as I am!-- [aside, dolefully]-- as I am!

WILFRED   Aye, it's well for thee to laugh. Thou hast a good
          post, and hast cause to be merry.

POINT     [bitterly] Cause? Have we not all cause? Is not the
          world a big butt of humour, into which all who will
          may drive a gimlet? See, I am a salaried wit; and is
          there aught in nature more ridiculous? A poor, dull,
          heart-broken man, who must needs be merry, or he will
          be whipped; who must rejoice, lest he starve; who must
          jest you, jibe you, quip you, crank you, wrack you,
          riddle you, from hour to hour, from day to day, from
          year to year, lest he dwindle, perish, starve,
          pine,and die! Why, when there's naught else to laugh
          at, I laugh at myself till I ache for it!

WILFRED   Yet I have often thought that a jester's calling would
          suit me to a hair.

POINT     Thee? Would suit thee, thou death's head and cross-
          bones?

WILFRED   Aye, I have a pretty wit-- a light, airy, joysome wit,
          spiced with anecdotes of prison cells and the torture
          chamber. Oh, a very delicate wit! I have tried it on
          many a prisoner, and there have been some who smiled.
          Now it is not easy to make a prisoner smile. And it
          should not be difficult to be a good jester, seeing
          that thou are one.

POINT     Difficult? Nothing easier. Nothing easier. Attend, and
          I will prove it to thee!

     No. 14. Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon
                             (SONG)
                             Point

POINT          Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon,
               If you listen to popular rumour;
          From morning to night he's so joyous and bright,
               And he bubbles with wit and good humour!
          He's so quaint and so terse,
                    Both in prose and in verse;
               Yet though people forgive his transgression,
          There are one or two rules that all family fools
               Must observe, if they love their profession.
                    There are one or two rules,
                         Half-a-dozen, maybe,
                    That all family fools,
                         Of whatever degree,
               Must observe if they love their profession.

          If you wish to succeed as a jester, you'll need
               To consider each person's auricular:
          What is all right for B would quite scandalize C
               (For C is so very particular);
          And D may be dull, and E's very thick skull
               Is as empty of brains as a ladle;
          While F is F sharp, and will cry with a carp,
               That he's known your best joke from his cradle!
                    When your humour they flout,
                         You can't let yourself go;
                    And it does put you out
                         When a person says, "Oh!
               I have known that old joke from my cradle!"

          If your master is surly, from getting up early
               (And tempers are short in the morning),
          An inopportune joke is enough to provoke
               Him to give you, at once, a month's warning.
          Then if you refrain, he is at you again,
               For he likes to get value for money:
          He'll ask then and there, with an insolent stare,
               "If you know that you're paid to be funny?"
                    It adds to the tasks
                         Of a merryman's place,
                    When your principal asks,
                         With a scowl on his face,
               If you know that you're paid to be funny?

          Comes a Bishop, maybe, or a solemn D.D.--
               Oh, beware of his anger provoking!
          Better not pull his hair--
                    Don't stick pins in his chair;
               He won't understand practical joking.
          If the jests that you crack have an orthodox smack,
               You may get a bland smile from these sages;
          But should it, by chance, be imported from France,
               Half-a-crown is stopped out of your wages!
                    It's a general rule,
                         Tho' your zeal it may quench,
                    If the Family Fool
                         Makes a joke that's too French,
               Half-a-crown is stopped out of his wages!

          Though your head it may rack with a bilious attack,
               And your senses with toothache you're losing,
          And you're mopy and flat--
                    they don't fine you for that
               If you're properly quaint and amusing!
          Though your wife ran away with a soldier that day,
               And took with her your trifle of money;
          Bless your heart, they don't mind--
                    they're exceedingly kind--
               They don't blame you--as long as you're funny!
                    It's a comfort to feel
                         If your partner should flit,
                    Though you suffer a deal,
                         They don't mind it a bit--
               They don't blame you--so long as you're funny!

POINT     And so thou wouldst be a jester eh?

WILFRED   Aye!

POINT     Now, listen! My sweetheart, Elsie Maynard, was
          secretly wed to this Fairfax half an hour ere he
          escaped.

WILFRED   She did well.

POINT     She did nothing of the kind, so hold thy peace and
          perpend. Now, while he liveth she is dead to me and I
          to her, and so, my jibes and jokes notwithstanding, I
          am the saddest and the sorriest dog in England!

WILFRED   Thou art a very dull dog indeed.

POINT     Now, if thou wilt swear that thou didst shoot this
          Fairfax while he was trying to swim across the river--
          it needs but the discharge of an arquebus on a dark
          night-- and that he sank and was seen no more, I'll
          make thee the very Archbishop of jesters, and that in
          two days'time! Now, what sayest thou?

WILFRED   I am to lie?

POINT     Heartily. But thy lie must be a lie of circumstance,
          which I will support with the testimony of eyes,
          ears,and tongue.

WILFRED   And thou wilt qualify me as a jester?

POINT     As a jester among jesters. I will teach thee all my
          original songs, my self-constructed riddles, my own
          ingenious paradoxes; nay, more, I will reveal to thee
          the source whence I get them. Now, what sayest thou?

WILFRED   Why, if it be but a lie thou wantest of me, I hold it
          cheap enough, and I say yes, it is a bargain!

               No. 15. Hereupon we're both agreed
                             (DUET)
                       Point and Wilfred

BOTH           Hereupon we're both agreed,
                    All that we two
                    Do agree to
               We'll secure by solemn deed,
                    To prevent all
                    Error mental.

POINT               You on Elsie are to call
                    With a story
                    Grim and gory;

WILFRED             How this Fairfax died, and all
                    I declare to
                    You're to swear to.

POINT                    I to swear to!

WILFRED                  I declare to,

POINT                    I to swear to!

WILFRED                  I declare to,

BOTH                I to swear to,/I declare to,
                    You declare to,/You're to swear to,
                    I to swear to,/I declare to.

BOTH           Tell a tale of cock and bull,
               Of convincing detail full
                    Tale tremendous,
                    Heav'n defend us!
               What a tale of cock and bull!

               In return for your/my own part
                    You are/I am making, undertaking
               To instruct me/you in the art
                    (Art amazing, wonder raising)

POINT               Of a jester, jesting free.
                    Proud position--
                    High ambition!

WILFRED             And a lively one I'll be,
                    Wag-a-wagging,
                    Never flagging!

POINT                    Wag-a-wagging,

WILFRED                  Never flagging,

POINT                    Wag-a-wagging,

WILFRED                  Never flagging,

BOTH                Never flagging,/Wag-a-wagging,
                    Wag-a-wagging,/Never flagging,
                    Never flagging,/Wag-a-wagging!

BOTH           Tell a tale of cock and bull,
               Of convincing detail full
                    Tale tremendous,
                    Heav'n defend us!
               What a tale of cock and bull!

POINT               What a tale of cock,

WILFRED             What a tale of bull!

POINT               What a tale of cock,

WILFRED             What a tale of bull!

BOTH           What a tale of cock and bull,
                    Cock and bull, cock and bull,
               Heav'n defend us!
               What a tale of cock and bull!

     [Exeunt together.

     [Enter FAIRFAX

FAIRFAX   Two days gone, and no news of poor Fairfax. The dolts!
          They seek him everywhere save within a dozen yards of
          his dungeon. So I am free! Free, but for the cursed
          haste with which I hurried headlong into the bonds of
          matrimony with-- Heaven knows whom! As far as I
          remember, she should have been young; but even had not
          her face been concealed by her kerchief, I doubt
          whether, in my then plight, I should have taken much
          note of her. Free? Bah! The Tower bonds were but a
          thread of silk compared with these conjugal fetters
          which I, fool that I was, placed upon mine own hands.
          From the one I broke readily enough-- how to break the
          other!

               No. 16. Free from his fetters grim
                            (BALLAD)
                            Fairfax

FAIRFAX             Free from his fetters grim--
                    Free to depart;
               Free both in life and limb--
                    In all but heart!
               Bound to an unknown bride
                    For good and ill;
               Ah, is not one so tied
                    A pris'ner still, a pris'ner still?
               Ah, is not one so tied
                    A pris'ner still?

               Free, yet in fetters held
                    Till his last hour,
               Gyves that no smith can weld,
                    No rust devour!
               Although a monarch's hand
                    Had set him free,
               Of all the captive band
                    The saddest he, the saddest he!
               Of all the captive band
                    The saddest, saddest he!

     [Enter SERGEANT MERYLL

FAIRFAX   Well, Sergeant Meryll, and how fares thy pretty
          charge,Elsie Maynard?

MERYLL    Well enough, sir. She is quite strong again, and
          leaves us to-night.

FAIRFAX   Thanks to Dame Carruthers' kind nursing, eh?

MERYLL    Aye, deuce take the old witch! Ah, 'twas but a sorry
          trick you played me, sir, to bring the fainting girl
          to me. It gave the old lady an excuse for taking up
          her quarters in my house, and for the last two years
          I've shunned her like the plague. Another day of it
          and she would have married me! [Enter DAME CARRUTHERS
          and KATE] Good Lord, here she is again! I'll e'en go.
          [Going]

DAME      Nay, Sergeant Meryll, don't go. I have something of
          grave import to say to thee.

MERYLL    [aside] It's coming.

FAIRFAX   [laughing] I'faith, I think I', not wanted here.
          [Going]

DAME      Nay, Master Leonard, I've naught to say to thy father
          that his son may not hear.

FAIRFAX   [aside] True. I'm one of the family; I had forgotten!

DAME      'Tis about this Elsie Maynard. A pretty girl, Master
          Leonard.

FAIRFAX   Aye, fair as a peach blossom-- what then?

DAME      She hath a liking for thee, or I mistake not.

FAIRFAX   With all my heart. She's as dainty a little amid as
          you'll find in a midsummer day's march.

DAME      Then be warned in time, and give not thy heart to her.
          Oh, I know what it is to give my heart to one who will
          have none of it!

MERYLL    [aside] Aye, she knows all about that.
          [Aloud] And why is my boy to take heed of her? She's
          a good girl, Dame Carruthers.

DAME      Good enough, for aught I know. But she's no girl.
          She's a married woman.

MERYLL    A married woman! Tush, old lady-- she's promised to
          Jack Point, the Lieutenant's new jester.

DAME      Tush in thy teeth, old man! As my niece Kate sat by
          her bedside to-day, this Elsie slept, and as she slept
          she moaned and groaned, and turned this way and that
          way-- and, "How shall I marry one I have never seen?"
          quoth she-- then, "An hundred crowns!" quoth she--
          then,"Is it certain he will die in an hour?" quoth
          she-- then, "I love him not, and yet I am his wife,"
          quoth she! Is it not so, Kate?

KATE      Aye, aunt, 'tis even so.

FAIRFAX   Art thou sure of all this?

KATE      Aye, sir, for I wrote it all down on my tablets.

DAME      Now, mark my words: it was of this Fairfax she spake,
          and he is her husband, or I'll swallow my kirtle!

MERYLL    [aside] Is it true, sir?

FAIRFAX   [aside to MERYLL] True? Why, the girl was raving!
          [Aloud] Why should she marry a man who had but an hour
          to live?

DAME      Marry? There be those who would marry but for a
          minute, rather than die old maids.

MERYLL    [aside] Aye, I know one of them!

                   No. 17. Strange adventure!
                           (QUARTET)
      Kate, Dame, Carruthers, Fairfax and Sergeant Meryll

ALL            Strange adventure! Maiden wedded
                    To a groom she's never seen--
                         Never, never, never seen!
               Groom about to be beheaded,
                    In an hour on Tower Green!
                         Tower, Tower, Tower Green!
               Groom in dreary dungeon lying,
               Groom as good as dead, or dying,
               For a pretty maiden sighing--
                    Pretty maid of seventeen!
                         Seven-- seven-- seventeen!

               Strange adventure that we're trolling:
                    Modest maid and gallant groom--
                         Gallant, gallant, gallant groom!--
               While the funeral bell is tolling,
                    Tolling, tolling, Bim-a-boom!
                         Bim-a, Bim-a, Bim-a-boom!
               Modest maiden will not tarry;
                    Though but sixteen year she carry,
               She must marry, she must marry,
                    Though the altar be a tomb--
                         Tower-- Tower-- Tower tomb!
                         Tower tomb! Tower tomb!
                    Though the altar be a tomb!
                         Tower, Tower, Tower tomb!

     [Exeunt DAME CARRUTHERS, MERYLL, and KATE.

FAIRFAX   So my mysterious bride is no other than this winsome
          Elsie! By my hand, 'tis no such ill plunge in
          Fortune's lucky bag! I might have fared worse with my
          eyes open! But she comes. Now to test her principles.
          'Tis not every husband who has a chance of wooing his
          own wife!

     [Enter ELSIE

FAIRFAX   Mistress Elsie!

ELSIE     Master Leonard!

FAIRFAX   So thou leavest us to-night?

ELSIE     Yes. Master Leonard. I have been kindly tended, and I
          almost fear I am loth to go.

FAIRFAX   And this Fairfax. Wast thou glad when he escaped?

ELSIE     Why, truly, Master Leonard, it is a sad thing that a
          young and gallant gentleman should die in the very
          fullness of his life.

FAIRFAX   Then when thou didst faint in my arms, it was for joy
          at his safety?

ELSIE     It may be so. I was highly wrought, Master Leonard,
          and I am but a girl, and so, when I an highly wrought,
          I faint.

FAIRFAX   Now, dost thou know, I am consumed with a parlous
          jealousy?

ELSIE     Thou? And of whom?

FAIRFAX   Why, of this Fairfax, surely!

ELSIE     Of Colonel Fairfax?

FAIRFAX   Aye. Shall I be frank with thee? Elsie-- I love thee,
          ardently, passionately! [ELSIE alarmed and surprised]
          Elsie, I have loved thee these two days-- which is a
          long time-- and I would fain join my life to thine!

ELSIE     Master Leonard! Thou art jesting!

FAIRFAX   Jesting? May I shrivel into raisins if I jest! I love
          thee with a love that is a fever-- with a love that is
          a frenzy-- with a love that eateth up my heart! What
          sayest thou? Thou wilt not let my heart be eaten up?

ELSIE     [aside] Oh, mercy! What am I to say?

FAIRFAX   Dost thou love me, or hast thou been insensible these
          two days?

ELSIE     I love all brave men.

FAIRFAX   Nay, there is love in excess. I thank heaven there are
          many brave men in England; but if thou lovest them
          all, I withdraw my thanks.

ELSIE     I love the bravest best. But, sir, I may not listen--
          I am not free-- I-- I am a wife!

FAIRFAX   Thou a wife? Whose? His name? His hours are
          numbered--nay, his grave is dug and his epitaph set up!
          Come, his name?

ELSIE     Oh, sir! keep my secret-- it is the only barrier that
          Fate could set up between us. My husband is none other
          than Colonel Fairfax!

FAIRFAX   The greatest villain unhung! The most ill-favoured,
          ill-mannered, ill-natured, ill-omened, ill-tempered
          dog in Christendom!

ELSIE     It is very like. He is naught to me-- for I never saw
          him. I was blindfolded, and he was to have died within
          the hour; and he did not die-- and I am wedded to him,
          and my heart is broken!

FAIRFAX   He was to have died, and he did not die? The
          scoundrel! The perjured, traitorous villain! Thou
          shouldst have insisted on his dying first, to make
          sure. 'Tis the only way with these Fairfaxes.

ELSIE     I now wish I had!

FAIRFAX   [aside] Bloodthirsty little maiden!
          [Aloud] A fig for this Fairfax! Be mine-- he will never
          know-- he dares not show himself; and if he dare, what
          art thou to him? Fly with me, Elsie-- we will be
          married tomorrow, and thou shalt be the happiest wife
          in England!

ELSIE     Master Leonard! I am amazed! Is it thus that brave
          soldiers speak to poor girls? Oh! for shame, for
          shame! I am wed-- not the less because I love not my
          husband. I am a wife, sir, and I have a duty, and-- oh,
          sir!-- thy words terrify me-- they are not honest-- they
          are wicked words, and unworthy thy great and brave
          heart! Oh,shame upon thee! shame upon thee!

FAIRFAX   Nay, Elsie, I did but jest. I spake but to try thee--

     [Shot heard

     [Enter SERGEANT MERYLL hastily

               No. 18. Hark! What was that, sir?
                            (SCENE)
    Elsie, Phoebe, Dame Carruthers, Fairfax. Wilfred, Point,
                      Lieutenant, Sergeant

MERYLL              Hark! What was that, sir?

FAIRFAX                  Why, an arquebus--
               Fired from the wharf, unless I much mistake.

MERYLL         Strange-- and at such an hour! What can it mean!

     [Enter CHORUS excitedly

CHORUS              Now what can that have been--
               A shot so late at night,
                    Enough to cause a fright!
               What can the portent mean?

               Are foemen in the land?
                    Is London to be wrecked?
                    What are we to expect?
               What danger is at hand?
                    Let us understand
                    What danger is at hand!

     [LIEUTENANT enters, also POINT and WILFRED

LIEUT.        Who fired that shot? At once the truth declare?

WILFRED        My lord, 'twas I-- to rashly judge forebear!

POINT          My lord, 'twas he-- to rashly judge forebear!

WILFRED             Like a ghost his vigil keeping--

POINT                    Or a spectre all-appalling--

WILFRED             I beheld a figure creeping--

POINT                    I should rather call it crawling--

WILFRED             He was creeping--

POINT                         He was crawling--

WILFRED             He was creeping, creeping--

POINT                         Crawling!

WILFRED             He was creeping--

POINT                         He was crawling--

WILFRED             He was creeping, creeping--

POINT                         Crawling!

WILFRED             Not a moment's hesitation--
                    I myself upon him flung,
               With a hurried exclamation
                    To his draperies I hung;
               Then we closed with one another
               In a rough-and-tumble smother;
               Col'nel Fairfax and no other
                    Was the man to whom I clung!

ALL            Col'nel Fairfax and no other,
                    Was the man to whom he clung!

WILFRED             After mighty tug and tussle--

POINT                    It resembled more a struggle--

WILFRED             He, by dint of stronger muscle--

POINT                    Or by some infernal juggle--

WILFRED             From my clutches quickly sliding--

POINT                    I should rather call it slipping--

WILFRED             With a view, no doubt, of hiding--

POINT                    Or escaping to the shipping--

WILFRED             With a gasp, and with a quiver--

POINT                    I'd describe it as a shiver--

WILFRED             Down he dived into the river,
                    And, alas, I cannot swim.

ALL            It's enough to make one shiver,
               With a gasp, and with a quiver,
               Down he dived into the river;
                    It was very brave of him!

WILFRED             Ingenuity is catching;
                    With the view my King of pleasing,
               Arquebus from sentry snatching--

POINT                    I should rather call it seizing--

WILFRED             With an ounce or two of lead
               I dispatched him through the head!

ALL            With an ounce or two of lead
               He dispatched him through the head!

WILFRED             I discharged it without winking,
               Little time I lost in thinking,
               Like a stone I saw him sinking--

POINT                    I should say a lump of lead.

ALL            He discharged it without winking,
               Little time he lost in thinking.

WILFRED             Like a stone I saw him sinking--

POINT                    I should say a lump of lead.

WILFRED             Like a stone, my boy, I said--

POINT                    Like a heavy lump of lead.

WILFRED             Like a stone, my boy, I said--

POINT                    Like a heavy lump of lead.

WILFRED             Anyhow, the man is dead,
               Whether stone or lump of lead!

ALL            Anyhow, the man is dead,
               Whether stone or lump of lead!
               Arquebus from sentry seizing,
               With the view his King of pleasing,
               Arquebus from sentry seizing,
               With the view his King of pleasing,
                    Wilfred shot him through the head,
                    And he's very, very dead!

               And it matters very little
                    Whether stone or lump of lead,
               It is very, very certain that
                         he's very, very dead!

LIEUT.        The river must be dragged-- no time be lost;
               The body must be found, at any cost.
               To this attend without undue delay;
               So set to work with what dispatch ye may!

     [Exit LIEUTENANT

ALL            Yes, yes,
               We'll set to work with what dispatch we may!

     [Men raise WILFRED, and carry him off on their shoulders.

ALL            Hail the valiant fellow who
               Did this deed of derring-do!
               Honours wait on such an one;
               By my head, 'twas bravely done,
                    'twas bravely done!
               Now, by my head, 'twas bravely done!

     [Exeunt all but ELSIE, POINT, FAIRFAX, and PHOEBE.

POINT     [to ELSIE, who is weeping] Nay, sweetheart, be
          comforted. This Fairfax was but a pestilent fellow,
          and, as he had to die, he might as well die thus as
          any other way. 'Twas a good death.

ELSIE     Still, he was my husband, and had he not been, he was
          nevertheless a living man, and now he is dead; and so,
          by your leave, my tears may flow unchidden, Master
          Point.

FAIRFAX   And thou didst see all this?

POINT     Aye, with both eyes at once-- this and that. The
          testimony of one eye is naught-- he may lie. But when
          it is corroborated by the other, it is good evidence
          that none may gainsay. Here are both present in court,
          ready to swear to him!

PHOEBE    But art thou sure it was Colonel Fairfax? Saw you his
          face?

POINT     Aye, and a plaguey ill-favoured face too. A very hang-
          dog face-- a felon face-- a face to fright the headsman
          himself, and make him strike awry. Oh, a plaguey, bad
          face, take my word for it. [PHOEBE and FAIRFAX laugh]
          How they laugh! "Tis ever thus with simple folk-- an
          accepted wit has but to say "Pass the mustard," and
          they roar their ribs out!

FAIRFAX   [aside] If ever I come to life again, thou shalt pay
          for this, Master Point!

POINT     Now, Elsie, thou art free to choose again, so behold
          me: I am young and well-favoured. I have a pretty wit.
          I can jest you, jibe you, quip you, crank you, wrack
          you, riddle you--

FAIRFAX   Tush, man, thou knowest not how to woo. 'Tis not to be
          done with time-worn jests and thread-bare sophistries;
          with quips, conundrums, rhymes, and paradoxes. 'Tis an
          art in itself, and must be studied gravely and
          conscientiously.

            No. 19. A man who would woo a fair maid
                             (TRIO)
                   Elsie, Phoebe, and Fairfax

FAIRFAX             A man who would woo a fair maid,
               Should 'prentice himself to the trade;
                    And study all day,
                    In methodical way,
               How to flatter, cajole, and persuade.

               He should 'prentice himself at fourteen,
               And practise from morning to e'en;
                    And when he's of age,
                    If he will, I'll engage,
               He may capture the heart of a queen,
                    the heart of a queen!

ALL                 It is purely a matter of skill,
                    Which all may attain if they will.
                         But every Jack
                         He must study the knack
                    If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
                    If he wants to make sure of his Jill!

ELSIE               If he's made the best use of his time,
               His twig he'll so carefully lime
                    That every bird
                    Will come down at his word,
               Whatever its plumage and clime.

               He must learn that the thrill of a touch
               May mean little, or nothing, or much;
                    It's an instrument rare,
                    To be handled with care,
               And ought to be treated as such,
                    Ought to be treated as such.

ALL                 It is purely a matter of skill,
                    Which all may attain if they will:
                         But every Jack,
                         He must study the knack
                    If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
                    If he wants to make sure of his Jill!

PHOEBE              Then a glance may be timid or free;
               It will vary in mighty degree,
                    From an impudent stare
                    To a look of despair
               That no maid without pity can see!
               And a glance of despair is no guide--
               It may have its ridiculous side;
                    It may draw you a tear
                    Or a box on the ear;
               You can never be sure till you've tried!
                    Never be sure till you've tried!

ALL            It is purely a matter of skill,
               Which all may attain if they will:
                    But every Jack,
                    He must study the knack
               If he wants to make sure of his Jill,
               If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
                    But every Jack,
                    He must study the knack,
                    But every Jack,
                    Must study the knack
               If he wants to make sure of his Jill!
                    Yes, every Jack,
                    Must study the knack
               If he wants to make sure of his Jill!

FAIRFAX   [aside to POINT] Now, listen to me-- 'tis done thus--
          [aloud] Mistress Elsie, there is one here who, as thou
          knowest, loves thee right well!

POINT     [aside] That he does-- right well!

FAIRFAX   He is but a man of poor estate, but he hath a loving,
          honest heart. He will be a true and trusty husband to
          thee, and if thou wilt be his wife, thou shalt lie
          curled up in his heart, like a little squirrel in its
          nest!

POINT     [aside] 'Tis a pretty figure. A maggot in a nut lies
          closer, but a squirrel will do.

FAIRFAX   He knoweth that thou wast a wife-- an unloved and
          unloving wife, and his poor heart was near to
          breaking. But now that thine unloving husband is dead,
          and thou art free, he would fain pray that thou
          wouldst hearken unto him, and give him hope that thou
          wouldst one day be his!

PHOEBE    [alarmed] He presses her hands-- and whispers in her
          ear! Ods bodikins, what does it mean?

FAIRFAX   Now, sweetheart, tell me-- wilt thou be this poor
          goodfellow's wife?

ELSIE     If the good, brave man-- is he a brave man?

FAIRFAX   So men say.

POINT     [aside] That's not true, but let it pass.

ELSIE     If the brave man will be content with a poor,
          penniless, untaught maid--

POINT     [aside] Widow-- but let that pass.

ELSIE     I will be his true and loving wife, and that with my
          heart of hearts!

FAIRFAX   My own dear love! [Embracing her]

PHOEBE    [in great agitation] Why, what's all this? Brother--
          brother-- it is not seemly!

POINT     [also alarmed, aside] Oh, I can't let that pass!
          [Aloud] Hold, enough, Master Leonard! An advocate
          should have his fee, but methinks thou art over-paying
          thyself!

FAIRFAX   Nay, that is for Elsie to say. I promised thee I would
          show thee how to woo, and herein lies the proof of the
          virtue of my teaching. Go thou, and apply it
          elsewhere! [PHOEBE bursts into tears]

               No. 20. When a wooer goes a-wooing
                           (QUARTET)
               Elsie, Phoebe, Fairfax, and Point

ELSIE                    When a wooer Goes a-wooing,
                    Naught is truer Than his joy.

FAIRFAX                  Maiden hushing All his suing--
                    Boldly blushing, bravely coy!
                         Bravely coy! Boldly blushing--

ELSIE                    Boldly blushing, bravely coy!

ALL                 Oh, the happy days of doing!
                    Oh, the sighing and the suing!
                    When a wooer goes a-wooing,
                         Oh the sweets that never cloy!

PHOEBE [weeping]              When a brother leaves his sister
                         For another, sister weeps,
                         Tears that trickle,
                              Tears that blister--
                         'Tis but mickle Sister reaps!

ALL                 Oh, the doing and undoing,
                    Oh, the sighing and the suing,
                    When a brother goes a-wooing,
                         And a sobbing sister weeps!

POINT                    When a jester Is outwitted,
                    Feelings fester, Heart is lead!
                    Food for fishes Only fitted,
                    Jester wishes He was dead!
                    Food for fishes Only fitted,
                    Jester wishes He was dead!

ALL                 Oh, the doing and undoing,
                    Oh, the sighing and the suing,
                    When a jester goes a-wooing,
                         And he wishes he was dead!

                    Oh, the doing and undoing,
                    Oh, the sighing and the suing,
                    When a jester goes a-wooing,
                         And he wishes he was dead,
                         And he wishes he was dead!

     [Exeunt all but PHOEBE, who remains weeping.

PHOEBE    And I helped that man to escape, and I've kept his
          secret, and pretended that I was his dearly loving
          sister, and done everything I could think of to make
          folk believe I was his loving sister, and this is his
          gratitude! Before I pretend to be sister to anybody
          again, I'll turn nun, and be sister to everybody-- one
          as much as another!

     [Enter WILFRED

WILFRED   In tears, eh? What a plague art thou grizzling for
          now?

PHOEBE    Why am I grizzling? Thou hast often wept for jealousy--
          well, 'tis for jealousy I weep now. Aye, yellow,
          bilious, jaundiced jealousy. So make the most of that,
          Master Wilfred.

WILFRED   But I have never given thee cause for jealousy. The
          Lieutenant's cook-maid and I are but the merest
          gossips!

PHOEBE    Jealous of thee! Bah! I'm jealous of no craven cock-
          on-a-hill, who crows about what he'd do an he dared!
          I am jealous of another and a better man than thou--
          set that down, Master Wilfred. And he is to marry
          Elsie Maynard, the pale little fool-- set that down
          Master Wilfred-- and my heart is wellnigh broken!
          There, thou hast it all! Make the most of it!

WILFRED   The man thou lovest is to marry Elsie Maynard? Why,
          that is no other than thy brother, Leonard Meryll!

PHOEBE    [aside] Oh, mercy! what have I said?

WILFRED   Why, what matter of brother is this, thou lying little
          jade? Speak! Who is this man whom thou hast called
          brother, and fondled, and coddled, and kissed!-- with
          my connivance, too! Oh Lord! with my connivance! Ha!
          should it be this Fairfax! [PHOEBE starts] It is! It
          is this accursed Fairfax! It's Fairfax! Fairfax, who--

PHOEBE    Whom thou hast just shot through the head, and who
          lies at the bottom of the river!

WILFRED   A-- I-- I may have been mistaken. We are but fallible
          mortals, the best of us. But I'll make sure-- I'll make
          sure. [Going]

PHOEBE    Stay-- one word. I think it cannot be Fairfax-- mind, I
          say I think-- because thou hast just slain Fairfax. But
          whether he be Fairfax or no Fairfax, he is to marry
          Elsie-- and-- and-- as thou hast shot him through the
          head, and he is dead, be content with that, and I will
          be thy wife!

WILFRED   Is that sure?

PHOEBE    Aye, sure enough, for there's no help for it! Thou art
          a very brute-- but even brutes must marry, I suppose.

WILFRED   My beloved. [Embraces her]

PHOEBE    [aside] Ugh!

     [Enter LEONARD MERYLL, hastily

LEONARD   Phoebe, rejoice, for I bring glad tidings. Colonel
          Fairfax's reprieve was signed two days since, but it
          was foully and maliciously kept back by Secretary
          Poltwhistle, who designed that it should arrive after
          the Colonel's death. It hath just come to hand, and it
          is now in the Lieutenant's possession!

PHOEBE    Then the Colonel is free? Oh, kiss me, kiss me, my
          dear! Kiss me, again, and again!

WILFRED   [dancing with fury] Ods bobs, death o' my life! Art
          thou mad? Am I mad? Are we all mad?

PHOEBE    Oh, my dear-- my dear, I'm well nigh crazed with joy!
          [Kissing LEONARD]

WILFRED   Come away from him, thou hussy-- thou jade-- thou
          kissing, clinging cockatrice! And as for thee, sir,
          devil take thee, I'll rip thee like a herring for
          this! I'll skin thee for it! I'll cleave thee to the
          chine! I'll-- oh! Phoebe! Phoebe! Who is this man?

PHOEBE    Peace, fool. He is my brother!

WILFRED   Another brother! Are there any more of them? Produce
          them all at once, and let me know the worst!

PHOEBE    This is the real Leonard, dolt; the other was but his
          substitute. The real Leonard, I say-- my father's own
          son.

WILFRED   How do I know this? Has he "brother" writ large on his
          brow? I mistrust thy brothers! Thou art but a false
          jade!

     [Exit LEONARD.

PHOEBE    Now, Wilfred, be just. Truly I did deceive thee
          before-- but it was to save a precious life-- and to
          save it, not for me, but for another. They are to be
          wed this very day. Is not this enough for thee? Come--
          I am thy Phoebe-- thy very own-- and we will be wed in
          a year-- or two-- or three, at the most. Is not that
          enough for thee?

     [Enter SERGEANT MERYLL, excitedly, followed by DAME
     CARRUTHERS, who listens, unobserved.

MERYLL    Phoebe, hast thou heard the brave news?

PHOEBE    [still in WILFRED's arms] Aye, father.

MERYLL    I'm nigh mad with joy! [Seeing WILFRED] Why, what's
          all this?

PHOEBE    Oh, father, he discovered our secret thorough my
          folly, and the price of his silence is--

WILFRED   Phoebe's heart.

PHOEBE    Oh, dear, no-- Phoebe's hand.

WILFRED   It's the same thing!

PHOEBE    Is it?

     [Exeunt WILFRED and PHOEBE.

MERYLL    [looking after them] "Tis pity, but the Colonel had to
          be saved at any cost, and as thy folly revealed our
          secret, thy folly must e'en suffer for it!

          [DAME CARRUTHERS comes down] Dame Carruthers!

DAME      So this is a plot to shield this arch-fiend, and I
          have detected it. A word from me, and three heads
          besides his would roll from their shoulders!

MERYLL    Nay, Colonel Fairfax is reprieved.
          [Aside] Yet, if my complicity in his escape were
          known! Plague on the old meddler! There's nothing for
          it--
          [aloud]-- Hush, pretty one! Such bloodthirsty words ill
          become those cherry lips!
          [Aside] Ugh!

DAME      [bashfully] Sergeant Meryll!

MERYLL    Why, look ye, chuck-- for many a month I've-- I've
          thought to myself-- "There's snug love saving up in
          that middle-aged bosom for some one, and why not for
          thee-- that's me-- so take heart and tell her-- that's
          thee-- that thou-- that's me-- lovest her-- thee-- and--
          and-- well,I'm a miserable old man, and I've done it--
          and that's me!" But not a word about Fairfax! The
          price of thy silence is--

DAME      Meryll's heart?

MERYLL    No, Meryll's hand.

DAME      It's the same thing!

MERYLL    Is it?

                    No. 21. Rapture, rapture
                             (DUET)
              Dame Carruthers and Sergeant Meryll

DAME           Rapture, rapture
                    When love's votary,
               Flushed with capture,
                    Seeks the notary,
                         Joy and jollity
                         Then is polity;
                         Reigns frivolity!
               Rapture, rapture!
                         Joy and jollity
                         Then is polity;
                         Reigns frivolity!
               Rapture, rapture!

MERYLL              Doleful, doleful!
                    When humanity
               With its soul full
                    Of satanity,
                         Courting privity,
                         Down declivity
                         Seeks captivity!
               Doleful, doleful!
                         Courting privity,
                         Down declivity
                         Seeks captivity!
               Doleful, doleful!

DAME           Joyful, joyful!
                    When virginity
               Seeks, all coyful,
                    Man's affinity;
                         Fate all flowery,
                         Bright and bowery,
                         Is her dowery!
               Joyful, joyful!
                         Fate all flowery,
                         Bright and bowery,
                         Is her dowery!
               Joyful, joyful!    

MERYLL              Ghastly, ghastly!
                    When man, sorrowful,
               Firstly, lastly,
                    Of to-morrow full,
                         After tarrying,
                         Yields to harrying--
                         Goes a-marrying.
               Ghastly, ghastly!

DAME           Joyful, joyful!

MERYLL              Ghastly, ghastly!

DAME           Joyful, joyful!

MERYLL              Ghastly, ghastly!

          DAME                     MERYLL

     Joyful, joyful!              Ghastly, ghastly!
     Joyful, joyful, joyful!      Ghastly, ghastly,ghastly!

     Rapture, rapture              Doleful, doleful!
     When love's votary,           When humanity
     Flushed with capture,         With its soul full
     Seeks the notary,             Of satanity,
     Joy and jollity               Courting privity,
     Then is polity;               Down declivity
     Reigns frivolity!            Seeks captivity!
     Rapture, rapture!            Doleful, doleful!
     Joy and jollity               Courting privity,
     Then is polity;               Down declivity
     Reigns frivolity!            Seeks captivity!
     Rapture, rapture!            Doleful, doleful!
     Rapture, rapture!            Doleful, doleful!
     Rapture, rapture,             Doleful, doleful,
     Rapture, rapture!            Doleful, doleful!
     Joy and jollity               Courting privity,
     Then is polity;               Down declivity
     Reigns frivolity!            Seeks captivity!
     Rapture, rapture!            Doleful, doleful!

     [Exeunt DAME and SERGEANT MERYLL.

              No. 22. Comes the pretty young bride
                       (FINALE OF ACT II)
                            Ensemble

     [Enter YEOMEN and WOMEN

WOMEN          Comes the pretty young bride,
                    a-blushing, timidly shrinking--
               Set all thy fears aside--
                    cheerily, pretty young bride!
               Brave is the youth to whom thy lot
                    thou art willingly linking!
               Flower of valour he--
                    loving as loving can be!
               Brightly thy summer is shining,
               Brightly thy summer is shining,
               Fair as the dawn, as the dawn of the day;
                    Take him, be true to him--
                    Tender his due to him--
               Honour him, honour him, love and obey!

     [Enter DAME, PHOEBE, and ELSIE as Bride

PHOEBE, ELSIE
    & DAME          'Tis said that joy in full perfection
                    Comes only once to womankind--
               That, other times, on close inspection,
                    Some lurking bitter we shall find.
               If this be so, and men say truly,
               My day of joy has broken duly
                    With happiness my/her soul is cloyed--
                         With happiness is cloyed--
                    With happiness my/her soul is cloyed--
                    This is my/her joy-day
                              unalloyed, unalloyed,
                    This is my/her joy-day unalloyed!

ALL            Yes, yes, with happiness her soul is cloyed!
          &n