William Schwenck Gilbert: Verses about Husband

Oh! little maid! - (I do not know your name
Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution
I'll add) - Oh, buxom widow! married dame!
(As one of these must be your present portion)
Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you,
And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you.

You'll marry soon - within a year or twain -
A bachelor of CIRCA two and thirty:
Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain,
And when you're intimate, you'll call him "BERTIE."
Neat - dresses well; his temper has been classified
As hasty; but he's very quickly pacified.

You'll find him working mildly at the Bar,
After a touch at two or three professions,
From easy affluence extremely far,
A brief or two on Circuit - "soup" at Sessions;
A pound or two from whist and backing horses,
And, say three hundred from his own resources.

Quiet in harness; free from serious vice,
His faults are not particularly shady,
You'll never find him "SHY" - for, once or twice
Already, he's been driven by a lady,
Who parts with him - perhaps a poor excuse for him -
Because she hasn't any further use for him.

Oh! bride of mine - tall, dumpy, dark, or fair!
Oh! widow - wife, maybe, or blushing maiden,
I've told YOUR fortune; solved the gravest care
With which your mind has hitherto been laden.
I've prophesied correctly, never doubt it;
Now tell me mine - and please be quick about it!

You - only you - can tell me, an' you will,
To whom I'm destined shortly to be mated,
Will she run up a heavy MODISTE'S bill?
If so, I want to hear her income stated
(This is a point which interests me greatly).
To quote the bard, "Oh! have I seen her lately?"

Say, must I wait till husband number one
Is comfortably stowed away at Woking?
How is her hair most usually done?
And tell me, please, will she object to smoking?
The colour of her eyes, too, you may mention:
Come, Sibyl, prophesy - I'm all attention.

A clergyman in Berkshire dwelt,
The REVEREND BERNARD POWLES,
And in his church there weekly knelt
At least a hundred souls.

There little ELLEN you might see,
The modest rustic belle;
In maidenly simplicity,
She loved her BERNARD well.

Though ELLEN wore a plain silk gown
Untrimmed with lace or fur,
Yet not a husband in the town
But wished his wife like her.

Though sterner memories might fade,
You never could forget
The child-form of that baby-maid,
The Village Violet!

A simple frightened loveliness,
Whose sacred spirit-part
Shrank timidly from worldly stress,
And nestled in your heart.

POWLES woo'd with every well-worn plan
And all the usual wiles
With which a well-schooled gentleman
A simple heart beguiles.

The hackneyed compliments that bore
World-folks like you and me,
Appeared to her as if they wore
The crown of Poesy.

His winking eyelid sang a song
Her heart could understand,
Eternity seemed scarce too long
When BERNARD squeezed her hand.

He ordered down the martial crew
Of GODFREY'S Grenadiers,
And COOTE conspired with TINNEY to
Ecstaticise her ears.

Beneath her window, veiled from eye,
They nightly took their stand;
On birthdays supplemented by
The Covent Garden band.

And little ELLEN, all alone,
Enraptured sat above,
And thought how blest she was to own
The wealth of POWLES'S love.

I often, often wonder what
Poor ELLEN saw in him;
For calculated he was NOT
To please a woman's whim.

He wasn't good, despite the air
An M.B. waistcoat gives;
Indeed, his dearest friends declare
No greater humbug lives.

No kind of virtue decked this priest,
He'd nothing to allure;
He wasn't handsome in the least, -
He wasn't even poor.

No - he was cursed with acres fat
(A Christian's direst ban),
And gold - yet, notwithstanding that,
Poor ELLEN loved the man.

As unlike BERNARD as could be
Was poor old AARON WOOD
(Disgraceful BERNARD'S curate he):
He was extremely good.

A BAYARD in his moral pluck
Without reproach or fear,
A quiet venerable duck
With fifty pounds a year.

No fault had he - no fad, except
A tendency to strum,
In mode at which you would have wept,
A dull harmonium.

He had no gold with which to hire
The minstrels who could best
Convey a notion of the fire
That raged within his breast.

And so, when COOTE and TINNEY'S Own
Had tootled all they knew,
And when the Guards, completely blown,
Exhaustedly withdrew,

And NELL began to sleepy feel,
Poor AARON then would come,
And underneath her window wheel
His plain harmonium.

He woke her every morn at two,
And having gained her ear,
In vivid colours AARON drew
The sluggard's grim career.

He warbled Apiarian praise,
And taught her in his chant
To shun the dog's pugnacious ways,
And imitate the ant.

Still NELL seemed not, how much he played,
To love him out and out,
Although the admirable maid
Respected him, no doubt.

She told him of her early vow,
And said as BERNARD'S wife
It might be hers to show him how
To rectify his life.

"You are so pure, so kind, so true,
Your goodness shines so bright,
What use would ELLEN be to you?
Believe me, you're all right."

She wished him happiness and health,
And flew on lightning wings
To BERNARD with his dangerous wealth
And all the woes it brings.

Weary at heart and extremely ill
Was PALEY VOLLAIRE of Bromptonville,
In a dirty lodging, with fever down,
Close to the Polygon, Somers Town.

PALEY VOLLAIRE was an only son
(For why? His mother had had but one),
And PALEY inherited gold and grounds
Worth several hundred thousand pounds.

But he, like many a rich young man,
Through this magnificent fortune ran,
And nothing was left for his daily needs
But duplicate copies of mortgage-deeds.

Shabby and sorry and sorely sick,
He slept, and dreamt that the clock's "tick, tick,"
Was one of the Fates, with a long sharp knife,
Snicking off bits of his shortened life.

He woke and counted the pips on the walls,
The outdoor passengers' loud footfalls,
And reckoned all over, and reckoned again,
The little white tufts on his counterpane.

A medical man to his bedside came.
(I can't remember that doctor's name),
And said, "You'll die in a very short while
If you don't set sail for Madeira's isle."

"Go to Madeira? goodness me!
I haven't the money to pay your fee!"
"Then, PALEY VOLLAIRE," said the leech, "good bye;
I'll come no more, for your're sure to die."

He sighed and he groaned and smote his breast;
"Oh, send," said he, "for FREDERICK WEST,
Ere senses fade or my eyes grow dim:
I've a terrible tale to whisper him!"

Poor was FREDERICK'S lot in life, -
A dustman he with a fair young wife,
A worthy man with a hard-earned store,
A hundred and seventy pounds - or more.

FREDERICK came, and he said, "Maybe
You'll say what you happened to want with me?"
"Wronged boy," said PALEY VOLLAIRE, "I will,
But don't you fidget yourself - sit still."


THE TERRIBLE TALE.

"'Tis now some thirty-seven years ago
Since first began the plot that I'm revealing,
A fine young woman, whom you ought to know,
Lived with her husband down in Drum Lane, Ealing.
Herself by means of mangling reimbursing,
And now and then (at intervals) wet-nursing.

"Two little babes dwelt in their humble cot:
One was her own - the other only lent to her:
HER OWN SHE SLIGHTED. Tempted by a lot
Of gold and silver regularly sent to her,
She ministered unto the little other
In the capacity of foster-mother.

"I WAS HER OWN. Oh! how I lay and sobbed
In my poor cradle - deeply, deeply cursing
The rich man's pampered bantling, who had robbed
My only birthright - an attentive nursing!
Sometimes in hatred of my foster-brother,
I gnashed my gums - which terrified my mother.

"One day - it was quite early in the week -
I IN MY CRADLE HAVING PLACED THE BANTLING -
Crept into his! He had not learnt to speak,
But I could see his face with anger mantling.
It was imprudent - well, disgraceful maybe,
For, oh! I was a bad, blackhearted baby!

"So great a luxury was food, I think
No wickedness but I was game to try for it.
NOW if I wanted anything to drink
At any time, I only had to cry for it!
ONCE, if I dared to weep, the bottle lacking,
My blubbering involved a serious smacking!

"We grew up in the usual way - my friend,
My foster-brother, daily growing thinner,
While gradually I began to mend,
And thrived amazingly on double dinner.
And every one, besides my foster-mother,
Believed that either of us was the other.

"I came into HIS wealth - I bore HIS name,
I bear it still - HIS property I squandered -
I mortgaged everything - and now (oh, shame!)
Into a Somers Town shake-down I've wandered!
I am no PALEY - no, VOLLAIRE - it's true, my boy!
The only rightful PALEY V. is YOU, my boy!

"And all I have is yours - and yours is mine.
I still may place you in your true position:
Give me the pounds you've saved, and I'll resign
My noble name, my rank, and my condition.
So far my wickedness in falsely owning
Your vasty wealth, I am at last atoning!"

*

FREDERICK he was a simple soul,
He pulled from his pocket a bulky roll,
And gave to PALEY his hard-earned store,
A hundred and seventy pounds or more.

PALEY VOLLAIRE, with many a groan,
Gave FREDERICK all that he called his own, -
Two shirts and a sock, and a vest of jean,
A Wellington boot and a bamboo cane.

And FRED (entitled to all things there)
He took the fever from MR. VOLLAIRE,
Which killed poor FREDERICK WEST. Meanwhile
VOLLAIRE sailed off to Madeira's isle.

Mr. Blake was a regular out-and-out hardened sinner,
Who was quite out of the pale of Christianity, so to speak,
He was in the habit of smoking a long pipe and drinking a glass of
grog on a Sunday after dinner,
And seldom thought of going to church more than twice or - if Good
Friday or Christmas Day happened to come in it - three times a
week.

He was quite indifferent as to the particular kinds of dresses
That the clergyman wore at church where he used to go to pray,
And whatever he did in the way of relieving a chap's distresses,
He always did in a nasty, sneaking, underhanded, hole-and-corner
sort of way.

I have known him indulge in profane, ungentlemanly emphatics,
When the Protestant Church has been divided on the subject of the
proper width of a chasuble's hem;
I have even known him to sneer at albs - and as for dalmatics,
Words can't convey an idea of the contempt he expressed for THEM.

He didn't believe in persons who, not being well off themselves,
are obliged to confine their charitable exertions to collecting
money from wealthier people,
And looked upon individuals of the former class as ecclesiastical
hawks;
He used to say that he would no more think of interfering with his
priest's robes than with his church or his steeple,
And that he did not consider his soul imperilled because somebody
over whom he had no influence whatever, chose to dress himself up
like an exaggerated GUY FAWKES.

This shocking old vagabond was so unutterably shameless
That he actually went a-courting a very respectable and pious
middle-aged sister, by the name of BIGGS.
She was a rather attractive widow, whose life as such had always
been particularly blameless;
Her first husband had left her a secure but moderate competence,
owing to some fortunate speculations in the matter of figs.

She was an excellent person in every way - and won the respect even
of MRS. GRUNDY,
She was a good housewife, too, and wouldn't have wasted a penny if
she had owned the Koh-i-noor.
She was just as strict as he was lax in her observance of Sunday,
And being a good economist, and charitable besides, she took all
the bones and cold potatoes and broken pie-crusts and candle-ends
(when she had quite done with them), and made them into an
excellent soup for the deserving poor.

I am sorry to say that she rather took to BLAKE - that outcast of
society,
And when respectable brothers who were fond of her began to look
dubious and to cough,
She would say, "Oh, my friends, it's because I hope to bring this
poor benighted soul back to virtue and propriety,
And besides, the poor benighted soul, with all his faults, was
uncommonly well off.

And when MR. BLAKE'S dissipated friends called his attention to the
frown or the pout of her,
Whenever he did anything which appeared to her to savour of an
unmentionable place,
He would say that "she would be a very decent old girl when all
that nonsense was knocked out of her,"
And his method of knocking it out of her is one that covered him
with disgrace.

She was fond of going to church services four times every Sunday,
and, four or five times in the week, and never seemed to pall of
them,
So he hunted out all the churches within a convenient distance that
had services at different hours, so to speak;
And when he had married her he positively insisted upon their going
to all of them,
So they contrived to do about twelve churches every Sunday, and, if
they had luck, from twenty-two to twenty-three in the course of the
week.

She was fond of dropping his sovereigns ostentatiously into the
plate, and she liked to see them stand out rather conspicuously
against the commonplace half-crowns and shillings,
So he took her to all the charity sermons, and if by any
extraordinary chance there wasn't a charity sermon anywhere, he
would drop a couple of sovereigns (one for him and one for her)
into the poor-box at the door;
And as he always deducted the sums thus given in charity from the
housekeeping money, and the money he allowed her for her bonnets
and frillings,
She soon began to find that even charity, if you allow it to
interfere with your personal luxuries, becomes an intolerable bore.

On Sundays she was always melancholy and anything but good society,
For that day in her household was a day of sighings and sobbings
and wringing of hands and shaking of heads:
She wouldn't hear of a button being sewn on a glove, because it was
a work neither of necessity nor of piety,
And strictly prohibited her servants from amusing themselves, or
indeed doing anything at all except dusting the drawing-rooms,
cleaning the boots and shoes, cooking the parlour dinner, waiting
generally on the family, and making the beds.
But BLAKE even went further than that, and said that people should
do their own works of necessity, and not delegate them to persons
in a menial situation,
So he wouldn't allow his servants to do so much as even answer a
bell.
Here he is making his wife carry up the water for her bath to the
second floor, much against her inclination, -
And why in the world the gentleman who illustrates these ballads
has put him in a cocked hat is more than I can tell.

After about three months of this sort of thing, taking the smooth
with the rough of it,
(Blacking her own boots and peeling her own potatoes was not her
notion of connubial bliss),
MRS. BLAKE began to find that she had pretty nearly had enough of
it,
And came, in course of time, to think that BLAKE'S own original
line of conduct wasn't so much amiss.

And now that wicked person - that detestable sinner ("BELIAL BLAKE"
his friends and well-wishers call him for his atrocities),
And his poor deluded victim, whom all her Christian brothers
dislike and pity so,
Go to the parish church only on Sunday morning and afternoon and
occasionally on a week-day, and spend their evenings in connubial
fondlings and affectionate reciprocities,
And I should like to know where in the world (or rather, out of it)
they expect to go!

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre, an Elderly Baronet

Alexis, of the Grenadier Guards--His Son

Dr. Daly, Vicar of Ploverleigh

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

Lady Sangazure, a Lady of Ancient Lineage

Aline, Her Daughter--betrothed to Alexis

Mrs. Partlet, a Pew-Opener

Constance, her Daughter

Chorus of Villagers


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

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


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

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

TRIO--ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. WELLS

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

ALEXIS. But stay, my father is not here!

ALINE. And pray where is my mother dear?

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

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

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

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

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

Country Dance

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

Aria--CONSTANCE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ALINE AND ALEXIS

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

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

ENSEMBLE

Aline & Alexis Constance Notary

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

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

BALLAD--ALEXIS

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

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

Enter Dr. Daly.

DR. D. (musing) It is singular--it is very singular. It
has overthrown all my calculations. It is distinctly opposed to
the doctrine of averages. I cannot understand it.
ALINE. Dear Dr. Daly, what has puzzled you?
DR. D. My dear, this village has not hitherto been addicted
to marrying and giving in marriage. Hitherto the youths of this
village have not been enterprising, and the maidens have been
distinctly coy. Judge then of my surprise when I tell you that
the whole village came to me in a body just now, and implored me
to join them in matrimony with as little delay as possible. Even
your excellent father has hinted to me that before very long it
is not unlikely that he may also change his condition.
ALINE. Oh, Alexis--do you hear that? Are you not
delighted?
ALEXIS. Yes, I confess that a union between your mother and
my father would be a happy circumstance indeed. (Crossing to Dr.
Daly) My dear sir--the news that you bring us is very
gratifying.
DR. D. Yes--still, in my eyes, it has its melancholy side.
This universal marrying recalls the happy days--now, alas, gone
forever--when I myself might have--but tush! I am puling. I am
too old to marry--and yet, within the last half-hour, I have
greatly yearned for companionship. I never remarked it before,
but the young maidens of this village are very comely. So
likewise are the middle-aged. Also the elderly. All are
comely--and (with a deep sigh) all are engaged!
ALINE. Here comes your father.

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

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

QUINTETTE

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

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

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

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

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

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

ENSEMBLE. She will tend him etc.

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

Enter Mr. Wells

RECITATIVE--MR. WELLS

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

Lady Sangazure enters. She is very melancholy

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

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

RECITATIVE

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

DUET--LADY SANGAZURE and MR. WELLS

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

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

RECITATIVE--MR. WELLS

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

ENSEMBLE

LADY SANGAZURE WELLS.

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

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

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

Enter Aline, Recitative

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

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

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

SONG--DR. DALY

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

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

ENSEMBLE--ALINE and DR. DALY.

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

Enter Alexis

ALEXIS (with rapture). Aline my only love, my happiness!
The philtre--you have tasted it?
ALINE (with confusion). Yes! Yes!
ALEXIS. Oh, joy, mine, mine for ever, and for aye!
(Embraces her.)
ALINE. Alexis, don't do that--you must not!

(Dr. Daly interposes between them)

ALEXIS (amazed). Why?

DUET--ALINE and DR. DALY

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

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

ENSEMBLE

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

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

Enter all the characters except Lady Sangazure and Mr. Wells

CHORUS

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

RECITATIVE--ALEXIS

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

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

FINALE

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

(Falls on trap)

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

(Gong)

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

ALL

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

(They embrace)

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

ENSEMBLE

SIR MARMADUKE, LADY SANGAZURE, ALEXIS, and ALINE

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

CHORUS. Now to the banquet, etc.

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

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

CHORUS. Now for the tea, etc.

(General Dance)

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

CURTAIN

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

GODS

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

THESPIANS

Thespis
Sillimon
TimidonTipseion
Preposteros
Stupidas
Sparkeio n
Nicemis
Pretteia
Daphne
Cymon

ACT II - The same Scene, with the Ruins Restored


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

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

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

CHO. Of all symposia...etc.

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

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

PRET. You certainly are a dear old thing.

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

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

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

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

SILL. Venus is going to ask me a favour.

PRET. You see, I am Venus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PRET. So that she is married to someone.

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

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

SILL. Then why object to Vulcan?

PRET. Because Vulcan is my grandfather.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NICE. Who? Why Sparkeion, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

SILL. To be sure--what does it matter?

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

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

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

SILL. Never.

SPAR. Then I'll sing it to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[enter Thespis L.U.E.]

THES. Sillimon, you can retire.

SILL. Sir, I--

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

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

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

MER. Very simple isn't it?

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

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

THES. What do you mean by that, Mercury?

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

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

MER. Oh yes--as far as we know.

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

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

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

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

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

MER. No, not yet.

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

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

THES. Oh, only once a year?

MER. Only once a year--

THES. And the year is up?

MER. Today.

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

MER. Yes, there are some.

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

MER. There are a good many.

THES. Oh, perhaps there are a thundering lot?

MER. There are a thundering lot.

THES. [very much disturbed] Oh.

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

THES. Oh, who has been taking it easy?

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

THES. Well but I suppose the experiment are ingenious?

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

THES. What for.

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

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

[Enter Daphne, weeping]

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

DAPH. Well, you know how disgracefully Sparkeion--

THES. [correcting her] Apollo--

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

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

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

THES. Oh--that is it? [puzzled]

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

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

DAPH. Open it at Apollo.

THES. [opens it] It is done.

DAPH. Read.

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

DAPH. And Calliope.

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

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

THES. Quite so.

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

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

DAPH. I go by the family edition.

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

[Enter Nicemis and Sparkeion]

NICE. Apollo your husband? He is my husband.

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

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

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

NICE. He is my husband.

DAPH. He's your brother.

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

SPAR. Upon my honor I don't know. I'm in a very delicate
position, but I'll fall in with any arrangement Thespis may
propose.

DAPH. I've just found out that he's my husband and yet he goes
out every evening with that "thing."

THES. Perhaps he's trying an experiment.

DAPH. I don't like my husband to make such experiments. The
question is, who are we all and what is our relation to each
other.

SPAR. You're Diana. I'm Apollo
And Calliope is she.

DAPH. He's your brother.

NICE. You're another. He has fairly married me.

DAPH. By the rules of this fair spot
I'm his wife and you are not.

SPAR & DAPH. By the rules of this fair spot
I'm/she's his wife and you are not.

NICE. By this golden wedding ring,
I'm his wife, and you're a "thing."

DAPH, NICE, SPAR. By this golden wedding ring,
I'm/She's his wife and you're a "thing."

ALL. Please will someone kindly tell us.
Who are our respective kin?
All of us/them are very jealous
Neither of us/them will give in.

NICE. He's my husband, I declare,
I espoused him properlee.

SPAR. That is true, for I was there,
And I saw her marry me.

DAPH. He's your brother--I'm his wife.
If we go by Lempriere.

SPAR. So she is, upon my life.
Really, that seems very fair.

NICE. You're my husband and no other.

SPAR. That is true enough I swear.

DAPH. I'm his wife, and you're his brother.

SPAR. If we go by Lempriere.

NICE. It will surely be unfair,
To decide by Lempriere. [crying]

DAPH. It will surely be quite fair,
To decide by Lempriere.

SPAR & THES How you settle it I don't care,
Leave it all to Lempriere.
[Spoken] The Verdict
As Sparkeion is Apollo,
Up in this Olympian clime,
Why, Nicemis, it will follow,
He's her husband, for the time. [indicating Daphne]

When Sparkeion turns to mortal
Join once more the sons of men.
He may take you to his portal [indicating Nicemis]
He will be your husband then.
That oh that is my decision,
'Cording to my mental vision,
Put an end to all collision,
My decision, my decision.

ALL. That oh that is his decision. etc.

[Exeunt Thes, Nice., Spar and Daphne, Spar. with Daphne, Nicemis
weeping with Thespis. mysterious music. Enter Jupiter, Apollo
and Mars from below, at the back of stage. All wear cloaks, as
disguise and all are masked]

JUP., AP., MARS. Oh rage and fury, Oh shame and sorrow.
We'll be resuming our ranks tomorrow.
Since from Olympus we have departed,
We've been distracted and brokenhearted,
Oh wicked Thespis. Oh villain scurvy.
Through him Olympus is topsy turvy.
Compelled to silence to grin and bear it.
He's caused our sorrow, and he shall share it.
Where is the monster. Avenge his blunders.
He has awakened Olympian thunders.

[Enter Mercury]

JUP. Oh monster.

AP. Oh monster.

MARS. Oh monster.

MER. [in great terror] Please sir, what have I done, sir?

JUP. What did we leave you behind for?

MER. Please sir, that's the question I asked for when you went
away.

JUP. Was it not that Thespis might consult you whenever he was in
a difficulty?

MER. Well, here I've been ready to be consulted, chockful of
reliable information--running over with celestial maxims--advice
gratis ten to four--after twelve ring the night bell in cases of
emergency.

JUP. And hasn't he consulted you?

MER. Not he--he disagrees with me about everything.

JUP. He must have misunderstood me. I told him to consult you
whenever he was in a fix.

MER. He must have though you said in-sult. Why whenever I opened
my mouth he jumps down my throat. It isn't pleasant to have a
fellow constantly jumping down your throat--especially when he
always disagrees with you. It's just the sort of thing I can't
digest.

JUP. [in a rage] Send him here. I'll talk to him.

[enter Thespis. He is much terrified]

JUP. Oh monster.

AP. Oh monster.

MARS. Oh monster.

[Thespis sings in great terror, which he endeavours to conceal]

JUP. Well sir, the year is up today.

AP. And a nice mess you've made of it.

MARS. You've deranged the whole scheme of society.

THES. [aside] There's going to be a row. [aloud and very
familiarly]My dear boy, I do assure you--

JUP. Be respectful.

AP. Be respectful.

MARS. Be respectful.

THES. I don't know what you allude to. With the exception of
getting our scene painter to "run up" this temple, because we
found the ruins draughty, we haven't touched a thing.

JUP. Oh story teller.

AP. Oh story teller.

MARS. Oh story teller.

[Enter thespians]

THES. My dear fellows, you're distressing yourselves
unnecessarily. The court of Olympus is about to assemble to
listen to the complaints of the year, if any. But there are
none, or next to none. Let the Olympians assemble. [Thespis
takes chair. JUP., AP., and MARS sit below him.

Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that it is usual for the gods to
assemble once a year to listen to mortal petitions. It doesn't
seem to me to be a good plan, as work is liable to accumulate;
but as I am particularly anxious not to interfere with Olympian
precedent, but to allow everything to go on as it has always been
accustomed to go--why, we'll say no more about it. [aside] But
how shall I account for your presence?

JUP. Say we are the gentlemen of the press.

THES. That all our proceedings may be perfectly open and above-
board I have communicated with the most influential members of
the Athenian press, and I beg to introduce to your notice three
of its most distinguished members. They bear marks emblematic of
the anonymous character of modern journalism. [Business of
introduction. Thespis is very uneasy] Now then, if you're all
ready we will begin.

MER. [brings tremendous bundle of petitions] Here is the agenda.

THES. What's that? The petitions?

MER. Some of them. [opens one and reads] Ah, I thought there'd be
a row about it.

THES. Why, what's wrong now?

MER. Why, it's been a foggy Friday in November for the last six
months and the Athenians are tired of it.

THES. There's no pleasing some people. This craving for perpetual
change is the curse of the country. Friday's a very nice day.

MER. So it is, but a Friday six months long.--it gets monotonous.

JUP, AP, MARS. [rising] It's perfectly ridiculous.

THES. [calling them] Cymon.

CYM. [as time with the usual attributes] Sir.

THES. [Introducing him to the three gods] Allow me--Father Time--
rather young at present but even time must have a beginning. In
course of time, time will grow older. Now then, Father Time,
what's this about a wet Friday in November for the last six
months.

CYM. Well, the fact is, I've been trying an experiment. Seven
days in the week is an awkward number. It can't be halved. Two;'s
into seven won't go.

THES. [tries it on his fingers] Quite so--quite so.

CYM. So I abolished Saturday.

JUP, AP, MARS. Oh but. [Rising]

THES. Do be quiet. He's a very intelligent young man and knows
what he is about. So you abolished Saturday. And how did you find
it answer?

CYM. Admirably.

THES. You hear? He found it answer admirably.

CYM. Yes, only Sunday refused to take its place.

THES. Sunday refused to take its place?

CYM. Sunday comes after Saturday--Sunday won't go on duty after
Friday. Sunday's principles are very strict. That's where my
experiment sticks.

THES. Well, but why November? Come, why November?

CYM. December can't begin until November has finished. November
can't finish because he's abolished Saturday. There again my
experiment sticks.

THES. Well, but why wet? Come now, why wet?

CYM. Ah, that is your fault. You turned on the rain six months
ago and you forgot to turn it off again.

JUP., AP., MARS. [rising] On this is monstrous.

ALL. Order. Order.

THES. Gentlemen, pray be seated. [to the others] The liberty of
the press, one can't help it. [to the three gods] It is easily
settled. Athens has had a wet Friday in November for the last six
months. Let them have a blazing Tuesday in July for the next
twelve.

JUP., AP., MARS. But--

ALL. Order. Order.

THES. Now then, the next article.

MER. Here's a petition from the Peace Society. They complain
because there are no more battles.

MARS. [springing up] What.

THES. Quiet there. Good dog--soho; Timidon.

TIM. [as Mars] Here.

THES. What's this about there being no battles?

TIM. I've abolished battles; it's an experiment.

MARS. [spring up] Oh come, I say--

THES. Quiet then. [to Tim] Abolished battles?

TIM. Yes, you told us on taking office to remember two things. To
try experiments and to take it easy. I found I couldn't take it
easy while there are any battles to attend to, so I tried the
experiment and abolished battles. And then I took it easy. The
Peace Society ought to be very much obliged to me.

THES. Obliged to you. Why, confound it. Since battles have been
abolished, war is universal.

TIM. War is universal?

THES. To b sure it is. Now that nations can't fight, no two of
'em are on speaking terms. The dread of fighting was the only
thing that kept them civil to each other. Let battles be
restored and peace reign supreme.

MER. Here's a petition from the associated wine merchants of
Mytilene? Are there no grapes this year?

THES. Well, what's wrong with the associated wine merchants of
Mytilene? Are there no grapes this year?

THES. Plenty of grapes. More than usual.

THES. [to the gods] You observe, there is no deception. There are
more than usual.

MER. There are plenty of grapes, only they are full of ginger
beer.

THREE GODS. Oh, come I say [rising they are put down by Thespis.]

THES. Eh? what [much alarmed] Bacchus.

TIPS. [as Bacchus] Here.

THES. There seems to be something unusual with the grapes of
Mytilene. They only grow ginger beer.

TIPS. And a very good thing too.

THES. It's very nice in its way but it is not what one looks for
from grapes.

TIPS. Beloved master, a week before we came up here, you insisted
on my taking the pledge. By so doing you rescued me from my
otherwise inevitable misery. I cannot express my thanks. Embrace
me. [attempts to embrace him.]

THES. Get out, don't be a fool. Look here, you know you're the
god of wine.

TIPS. I am.

THES. [very angry] Well, do you consider it consistent with your
duty as the god of wine to make the grapes yield nothing but
ginger beer?

TIPS. Do you consider it consistent with my duty as a total
abstainer to grow anything stronger than ginger beer?

THES. But your duty as the god of wine--

TIPS. In every respect in which my duty as the god of wine can be
discharged consistently with my duty as a total abstainer, I will
discharge it. But when the functions clash, everything must give
way to the pledge. My preserver. [Attempts to embrace him]

THES. Don't be a confounded fool. This can be arranged. We can't
give over the wine this year, but at least we can improve the
ginger beer. Let all the ginger beer be extracted from it
immediately.

THREE GODS. We can't stand this,
We can't stand this.
It's much too strong.
We can't stand this.
It would be wrong.
Extremely wrong.
If we stood this.

If we stand this
If we stand this
We can't stand this.

DAPH, SPAR, NICE. Great Jove, this interference.
Is more than we can stand;
Of them make a clearance,
With your majestic hand.

JOVE. This cool audacity, it beats us hollow.
I'm Jupiter.

MARS. I'm Mars.

AP. I'm Apollo.

[Enter Diana and all the other gods and goddesses.

ALL. [kneeling with their foreheads on the ground]

Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo
Have quitted the dwellings of men;
The other gods quickly will follow.
And what will become of us then.
Oh pardon us, Jove and Apollo,
Pardon us, Jupiter, Mars:
Oh see us in misery wallow.
Cursing our terrible stars.

[enter other gods.]

ALL THESPIANS: Let us remain, we beg of you pleadingly.

THREE GODS: Let them remain, they beg of us pleadingly.

THES. Life on Olympus suits us exceedingly.

GODS. Life on Olympus suits them exceedingly.

THES. Let us remain, we pray in humility.

GODS. Let 'em remain, they pray in humility.

THES. If we have shown some little ability.

GODS. If they have shown some little ability.
Let us remain, etc...

JUP. Enough, your reign is ended.
Upon this sacred hill.
Let him be apprehended
And learn out awful will.
Away to earth, contemptible comedians,
And hear our curse, before we set you free'
You shall be all be eminent tragedians,
Whom no one ever goes to see.

ALL. We go to earth, contemptible tragedians,
We hear his curse, before he sets us free,
We shall all be eminent tragedians,
Whom no one ever, ever goes to see.

SILL, SPAR, THES. Whom no one
Ever goes to see.

[The thespians are driven away by the gods, who group themselves
in attitudes of triumph.]

THES. Now, here you see the arrant folly
Of doing your best to make things jolly.
I've ruled the world like a chap in his senses,
Observe the terrible consequences.
Great Jupiter, whom nothing pleases,
Splutters and swears, and kicks up breezes,
And sends us home in a mood avengin'
In double quick time, like a railroad engine.
And this he does without compunction,
Because I have discharged with unction
A highly complicated function
Complying with his own injunction,
Fol, lol, lay

CHO. All this he does....etc.

[The gods drive the thespians away. The thespians prepare to
descend the mountain as the curtain falls.]

CURTAIN