Said I To Myself, Said I
When I went to the Bar as a very young man
(Said I to myself - said I),
I'll work on a new and original plan
(Said I to myself - said I),
I'll never assume that a rogue or a thief
Is a gentleman worthy implicit belief,
Because his attorney, has sent me a brief
(Said I to myself - said I!)
I'll never throw dust in a juryman's eyes
(Said I to myself - said I),
Or hoodwink a judge who is not over-wise
(Said I to myself - said I),
Or assume that the witnesses summoned in force
In Exchequer, Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, or Divorce,
Have perjured themselves as a matter of course
(Said I to myself - said I!)
Ere I go into court I will read my brief through
(Said I to myself - said I),
And I'll never take work I'm unable to do
(Said I to myself - said I).
My learned profession I'll never disgrace
By taking a fee with a grin on my face,
When I haven't been there to attend to the case
(Said I to myself - said I!)
In other professions in which men engage
(Said I to myself - said I),
The Army, the Navy, the Church, and the Stage,
(Said I to myself - said I),
Professional licence, if carried too far,
Your chance of promotion will certainly mar -
And I fancy the rule might apply to the Bar
(Said I to myself - said I!)
Old Paul And Old Tim
When rival adorers come courting a maid,
There's something or other may often be said,
Why HE should be pitched upon rather than HIM.
This wasn't the case with Old PAUL and Old TIM.
No soul could discover a reason at all
For marrying TIMOTHY rather than PAUL;
Though all could have offered good reasons, on oath,
Against marrying either - or marrying both.
They were equally wealthy and equally old,
They were equally timid and equally bold;
They were equally tall as they stood in their shoes -
Between them, in fact, there was nothing to choose.
Had I been young EMILY, I should have said,
"You're both much too old for a pretty young maid,
Threescore at the least you are verging upon";
But I wasn't young EMILY. Let us get on.
No coward's blood ran in young EMILY'S veins,
Her martial old father loved bloody campaigns;
At the rumours of battles all over the globe
He pricked up his ears like the war-horse in "Job."
He chuckled to hear of a sudden surprise -
Of soldiers, compelled, through an enemy's spies,
Without any knapsacks or shakos to flee -
For an eminent army-contractor was he.
So when her two lovers, whose patience was tried,
Implored her between them at once to decide,
She told them she'd marry whichever might bring
Good proofs of his doing the pluckiest thing.
They both went away with a qualified joy:
That coward, Old PAUL, chose a very small boy,
And when no one was looking, in spite of his fears,
He set to work boxing that little boy's ears.
The little boy struggled and tugged at his hair,
But the lion was roused, and Old PAUL didn't care;
He smacked him, and whacked him, and boxed him, and kicked
Till the poor little beggar was royally licked.
Old TIM knew a trick worth a dozen of that,
So he called for his stick and he called for his hat.
"I'll cover myself with cheap glory - I'll go
And wallop the Frenchmen who live in Soho!
"The German invader is ravaging France
With infantry rifle and cavalry lance,
And beautiful Paris is fighting her best
To shake herself free from her terrible guest.
"The Frenchmen in London, in craven alarms,
Have all run away from the summons to arms;
They haven't the pluck of a pigeon - I'll go
And wallop the Frenchmen who skulk in Soho!"
Old TIMOTHY tried it and found it succeed:
That day he caused many French noses to bleed;
Through foggy Soho he spread fear and dismay,
And Frenchmen all round him in agony lay.
He took care to abstain from employing his fist
On the old and the crippled, for they might resist;
A crippled old man may have pluck in his breast,
But the young and the strong ones are cowards confest.
Old TIM and Old PAUL, with the list of their foes,
Prostrated themselves at their EMILY'S toes:
"Oh, which of us two is the pluckier blade?"
And EMILY answered and EMILY said:
"Old TIM has thrashed runaway Frenchmen in scores,
Who ought to be guarding their cities and shores;
Old PAUL has made little chaps' noses to bleed -
Old PAUL has accomplished the pluckier deed!"
Thomas Winterbottom Hance
IN all the towns and cities fair
On Merry England's broad expanse,
No swordsman ever could compare
With THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE.
The dauntless lad could fairly hew
A silken handkerchief in twain,
Divide a leg of mutton too -
And this without unwholesome strain.
On whole half-sheep, with cunning trick,
His sabre sometimes he'd employ -
No bar of lead, however thick,
Had terrors for the stalwart boy.
At Dover daily he'd prepare
To hew and slash, behind, before -
Which aggravated MONSIEUR PIERRE,
Who watched him from the Calais shore.
It caused good PIERRE to swear and dance,
The sight annoyed and vexed him so;
He was the bravest man in France -
He said so, and he ought to know.
"Regardez donc, ce cochon gros -
Ce polisson! Oh, sacre bleu!
Son sabre, son plomb, et ses gigots
Comme cela m'ennuye, enfin, mon Dieu!
"Il sait que les foulards de soie
Give no retaliating whack -
Les gigots morts n'ont pas de quoi -
Le plomb don't ever hit you back."
But every day the headstrong lad
Cut lead and mutton more and more;
And every day poor PIERRE, half mad,
Shrieked loud defiance from his shore.
HANCE had a mother, poor and old,
A simple, harmless village dame,
Who crowed and clapped as people told
Of WINTERBOTTOM'S rising fame.
She said, "I'll be upon the spot
To see my TOMMY'S sabre-play;"
And so she left her leafy cot,
And walked to Dover in a day.
PIERRE had a doating mother, who
Had heard of his defiant rage;
HIS Ma was nearly ninety-two,
And rather dressy for her age.
At HANCE'S doings every morn,
With sheer delight HIS mother cried;
And MONSIEUR PIERRE'S contemptuous scorn
Filled HIS mamma with proper pride.
But HANCE'S powers began to fail -
His constitution was not strong -
And PIERRE, who once was stout and hale,
Grew thin from shouting all day long.
Their mothers saw them pale and wan,
Maternal anguish tore each breast,
And so they met to find a plan
To set their offsprings' minds at rest.
Said MRS. HANCE, "Of course I shrinks
From bloodshed, ma'am, as you're aware,
But still they'd better meet, I thinks."
"Assurement!" said MADAME PIERRE.
A sunny spot in sunny France
Was hit upon for this affair;
The ground was picked by MRS. HANCE,
The stakes were pitched by MADAME PIERRE.
Said MRS. H., "Your work you see -
Go in, my noble boy, and win."
"En garde, mon fils!" said MADAME P.
"Allons!" "Go on!" "En garde!" "Begin!"
(The mothers were of decent size,
Though not particularly tall;
But in the sketch that meets your eyes
I've been obliged to draw them small.)
Loud sneered the doughty man of France,
"Ho! ho! Ho! ho! Ha! ha! Ha! ha!
"The French for 'Pish'" said THOMAS HANCE.
Said PIERRE, "L'Anglais, Monsieur, pour 'Bah.'"
Said MRS. H., "Come, one! two! three! -
We're sittin' here to see all fair."
"C'est magnifique!" said MADAME P.,
"Mais, parbleu! ce n'est pas la guerre!"
"Je scorn un foe si lache que vous,"
Said PIERRE, the doughty son of France.
"I fight not coward foe like you!"
Said our undaunted TOMMY HANCE.
"The French for 'Pooh!'" our TOMMY cried.
"L'Anglais pour 'Va!'" the Frenchman crowed.
And so, with undiminished pride,
Each went on his respective road.
A Discontented Sugar Broker
A gentleman of City fame
Now claims your kind attention;
East India broking was his game,
His name I shall not mention:
No one of finely-pointed sense
Would violate a confidence,
And shall I go
And do it? No!
His name I shall not mention.
He had a trusty wife and true,
And very cosy quarters,
A manager, a boy or two,
Six clerks, and seven porters.
A broker must be doing well
(As any lunatic can tell)
Who can employ
An active boy,
Six clerks, and seven porters.
His knocker advertised no dun,
No losses made him sulky,
He had one sorrow - only one -
He was extremely bulky.
A man must be, I beg to state,
Exceptionally fortunate
Who owns his chief
And only grief
Is - being very bulky.
"This load," he'd say, "I cannot bear;
I'm nineteen stone or twenty!
Henceforward I'll go in for air
And exercise in plenty."
Most people think that, should it come,
They can reduce a bulging tum
To measures fair
By taking air
And exercise in plenty.
In every weather, every day,
Dry, muddy, wet, or gritty,
He took to dancing all the way
From Brompton to the City.
You do not often get the chance
Of seeing sugar brokers dance
From their abode
In Fulham Road
Through Brompton to the City.
He braved the gay and guileless laugh
Of children with their nusses,
The loud uneducated chaff
Of clerks on omnibuses.
Against all minor things that rack
A nicely-balanced mind, I'll back
The noisy chaff
And ill-bred laugh
Of clerks on omnibuses.
His friends, who heard his money chink,
And saw the house he rented,
And knew his wife, could never think
What made him discontented.
It never entered their pure minds
That fads are of eccentric kinds,
Nor would they own
That fat alone
Could make one discontented.
"Your riches know no kind of pause,
Your trade is fast advancing;
You dance - but not for joy, because
You weep as you are dancing.
To dance implies that man is glad,
To weep implies that man is sad;
But here are you
Who do the two -
You weep as you are dancing!"
His mania soon got noised about
And into all the papers;
His size increased beyond a doubt
For all his reckless capers:
It may seem singular to you,
But all his friends admit it true -
The more he found
His figure round,
The more he cut his capers.
His bulk increased - no matter that -
He tried the more to toss it -
He never spoke of it as "fat,"
But "adipose deposit."
Upon my word, it seems to me
Unpardonable vanity
(And worse than that)
To call your fat
An "adipose deposit."
At length his brawny knees gave way,
And on the carpet sinking,
Upon his shapeless back he lay
And kicked away like winking.
Instead of seeing in his state
The finger of unswerving Fate,
He laboured still
To work his will,
And kicked away like winking.
His friends, disgusted with him now,
Away in silence wended -
I hardly like to tell you how
This dreadful story ended.
The shocking sequel to impart,
I must employ the limner's art -
If you would know,
This sketch will show
How his exertions ended.
MORAL.
I hate to preach - I hate to prate -
- I'm no fanatic croaker,
But learn contentment from the fate
Of this East India broker.
He'd everything a man of taste
Could ever want, except a waist;
And discontent
His size anent,
And bootless perseverance blind,
Completely wrecked the peace of mind
Of this East India broker.
Bob Polter
BOB POLTER was a navvy, and
His hands were coarse, and dirty too,
His homely face was rough and tanned,
His time of life was thirty-two.
He lived among a working clan
(A wife he hadn't got at all),
A decent, steady, sober man -
No saint, however - not at all.
He smoked, but in a modest way,
Because he thought he needed it;
He drank a pot of beer a day,
And sometimes he exceeded it.
At times he'd pass with other men
A loud convivial night or two,
With, very likely, now and then,
On Saturdays, a fight or two.
But still he was a sober soul,
A labour-never-shirking man,
Who paid his way - upon the whole
A decent English working man.
One day, when at the Nelson's Head
(For which he may be blamed of you),
A holy man appeared, and said,
"Oh, ROBERT, I'm ashamed of you."
He laid his hand on ROBERT'S beer
Before he could drink up any,
And on the floor, with sigh and tear,
He poured the pot of "thruppenny."
"Oh, ROBERT, at this very bar
A truth you'll be discovering,
A good and evil genius are
Around your noddle hovering.
"They both are here to bid you shun
The other one's society,
For Total Abstinence is one,
The other, Inebriety."
He waved his hand - a vapour came -
A wizard POLTER reckoned him;
A bogy rose and called his name,
And with his finger beckoned him.
The monster's salient points to sum, -
His heavy breath was portery:
His glowing nose suggested rum:
His eyes were gin-and-WORtery.
His dress was torn - for dregs of ale
And slops of gin had rusted it;
His pimpled face was wan and pale,
Where filth had not encrusted it.
"Come, POLTER," said the fiend, "begin,
And keep the bowl a-flowing on -
A working man needs pints of gin
To keep his clockwork going on."
BOB shuddered: "Ah, you've made a miss
If you take me for one of you:
You filthy beast, get out of this -
BOB POLTER don't wan't none of you."
The demon gave a drunken shriek,
And crept away in stealthiness,
And lo! instead, a person sleek,
Who seemed to burst with healthiness.
"In me, as your adviser hints,
Of Abstinence you've got a type -
Of MR. TWEEDIE'S pretty prints
I am the happy prototype.
"If you abjure the social toast,
And pipes, and such frivolities,
You possibly some day may boast
My prepossessing qualities!"
BOB rubbed his eyes, and made 'em blink:
"You almost make me tremble, you!
If I abjure fermented drink,
Shall I, indeed, resemble you?
"And will my whiskers curl so tight?
My cheeks grow smug and muttony?
My face become so red and white?
My coat so blue and buttony?
"Will trousers, such as yours, array
Extremities inferior?
Will chubbiness assert its sway
All over my exterior?
"In this, my unenlightened state,
To work in heavy boots I comes;
Will pumps henceforward decorate
My tiddle toddle tootsicums?
"And shall I get so plump and fresh,
And look no longer seedily?
My skin will henceforth fit my flesh
So tightly and so TWEEDIE-ly?"
The phantom said, "You'll have all this,
You'll know no kind of huffiness,
Your life will be one chubby bliss,
One long unruffled puffiness!"
"Be off!" said irritated BOB.
"Why come you here to bother one?
You pharisaical old snob,
You're wuss almost than t'other one!
"I takes my pipe - I takes my pot,
And drunk I'm never seen to be:
I'm no teetotaller or sot,
And as I am I mean to be!"
The Reverend Simon Magus
A rich advowson, highly prized,
For private sale was advertised;
And many a parson made a bid;
The REVEREND SIMON MAGUS did.
He sought the agent's: "Agent, I
Have come prepared at once to buy
(If your demand is not too big)
The Cure of Otium-cum-Digge."
"Ah!" said the agent, "THERE'S a berth -
The snuggest vicarage on earth;
No sort of duty (so I hear),
And fifteen hundred pounds a year!
"If on the price we should agree,
The living soon will vacant be;
The good incumbent's ninety five,
And cannot very long survive.
See - here's his photograph - you see,
He's in his dotage." "Ah, dear me!
Poor soul!" said SIMON. "His decease
Would be a merciful release!"
The agent laughed - the agent blinked -
The agent blew his nose and winked -
And poked the parson's ribs in play -
It was that agent's vulgar way.
The REVEREND SIMON frowned: "I grieve
This light demeanour to perceive;
It's scarcely COMME IL FAUT, I think:
Now - pray oblige me - do not wink.
"Don't dig my waistcoat into holes -
Your mission is to sell the souls
Of human sheep and human kids
To that divine who highest bids.
"Do well in this, and on your head
Unnumbered honours will be shed."
The agent said, "Well, truth to tell,
I HAVE been doing very well."
"You should," said SIMON, "at your age;
But now about the parsonage.
How many rooms does it contain?
Show me the photograph again.
"A poor apostle's humble house
Must not be too luxurious;
No stately halls with oaken floor -
It should be decent and no more.
" No billiard-rooms - no stately trees -
No croquet-grounds or pineries."
"Ah!" sighed the agent, "very true:
This property won't do for you."
"All these about the house you'll find." -
"Well," said the parson, "never mind;
I'll manage to submit to these
Luxurious superfluities.
"A clergyman who does not shirk
The various calls of Christian work,
Will have no leisure to employ
These 'common forms' of worldly joy.
"To preach three times on Sabbath days -
To wean the lost from wicked ways -
The sick to soothe - the sane to wed -
The poor to feed with meat and bread;
"These are the various wholesome ways
In which I'll spend my nights and days:
My zeal will have no time to cool
At croquet, archery, or pool."
The agent said, "From what I hear,
This living will not suit, I fear -
There are no poor, no sick at all;
For services there is no call."
The reverend gent looked grave, "Dear me!
Then there is NO 'society'? -
I mean, of course, no sinners there
Whose souls will be my special care?"
The cunning agent shook his head,
"No, none - except" - (the agent said) -
"The DUKE OF A., the EARL OF B.,
The MARQUIS C., and VISCOUNT D.
"But you will not be quite alone,
For though they've chaplains of their own,
Of course this noble well-bred clan
Receive the parish clergyman."
"Oh, silence, sir!" said SIMON M.,
"Dukes - Earls! What should I care for them?
These worldly ranks I scorn and flout!"
"Of course," the agent said, "no doubt!"
"Yet I might show these men of birth
The hollowness of rank on earth."
The agent answered, "Very true -
But I should not, if I were you."
"Who sells this rich advowson, pray?"
The agent winked - it was his way -
"His name is HART; 'twixt me and you,
He is, I'm grieved to say, a Jew!"
"A Jew?" said SIMON, "happy find!
I purchase this advowson, mind.
My life shall be devoted to
Converting that unhappy Jew!"
The Haughty Actor
AN actor - GIBBS, of Drury Lane -
Of very decent station,
Once happened in a part to gain
Excessive approbation:
It sometimes turns a fellow's brain
And makes him singularly vain
When he believes that he receives
Tremendous approbation.
His great success half drove him mad,
But no one seemed to mind him;
Well, in another piece he had
Another part assigned him.
This part was smaller, by a bit,
Than that in which he made a hit.
So, much ill-used, he straight refused
To play the part assigned him.
THAT NIGHT THAT ACTOR SLEPT, AND I'LL ATTEMPT
TO TELL YOU OF THE VIVID DREAM HE DREAMT.
THE DREAM.
In fighting with a robber band
(A thing he loved sincerely)
A sword struck GIBBS upon the hand,
And wounded it severely.
At first he didn't heed it much,
He thought it was a simple touch,
But soon he found the weapon's bound
Had wounded him severely.
To Surgeon COBB he made a trip,
Who'd just effected featly
An amputation at the hip
Particularly neatly.
A rising man was Surgeon COBB
But this extremely ticklish job
He had achieved (as he believed)
Particularly neatly.
The actor rang the surgeon's bell.
"Observe my wounded finger,
Be good enough to strap it well,
And prithee do not linger.
That I, dear sir, may fill again
The Theatre Royal Drury Lane:
This very night I have to fight -
So prithee do not linger."
"I don't strap fingers up for doles,"
Replied the haughty surgeon;
"To use your cant, I don't play ROLES
Utility that verge on.
First amputation - nothing less -
That is my line of business:
We surgeon nobs despise all jobs
Utility that verge on.
"When in your hip there lurks disease"
(So dreamt this lively dreamer),
"Or devastating CARIES
In HUMERUS or FEMUR,
If you can pay a handsome fee,
Oh, then you may remember me -
With joy elate I'll amputate
Your HUMERUS or FEMUR."
The disconcerted actor ceased
The haughty leech to pester,
But when the wound in size increased,
And then began to fester,
He sought a learned Counsel's lair,
And told that Counsel, then and there,
How COBB'S neglect of his defect
Had made his finger fester.
"Oh, bring my action, if you please,
The case I pray you urge on,
And win me thumping damages
From COBB, that haughty surgeon.
He culpably neglected me
Although I proffered him his fee,
So pray come down, in wig and gown,
On COBB, that haughty surgeon!"
That Counsel learned in the laws,
With passion almost trembled.
He just had gained a mighty cause
Before the Peers assembled!
Said he, "How dare you have the face
To come with Common Jury case
To one who wings rhetoric flings
Before the Peers assembled?"
Dispirited became our friend -
Depressed his moral pecker -
"But stay! a thought! - I'll gain my end,
And save my poor exchequer.
I won't be placed upon the shelf,
I'll take it into Court myself,
And legal lore display before
The Court of the Exchequer."
He found a Baron - one of those
Who with our laws supply us -
In wig and silken gown and hose,
As if at NISI PRIUS.
But he'd just given, off the reel,
A famous judgment on Appeal:
It scarce became his heightened fame
To sit at NISI PRIUS.
Our friend began, with easy wit,
That half concealed his terror:
"Pooh!" said the Judge, "I only sit
In BANCO or in Error.
Can you suppose, my man, that I'd
O'er NISI PRIUS Courts preside,
Or condescend my time to spend
On anything but Error?"
"Too bad," said GIBBS, "my case to shirk!
You must be bad innately,
To save your skill for mighty work
Because it's valued greatly!"
But here he woke, with sudden start.
He wrote to say he'd play the part.
I've but to tell he played it well -
The author's words - his native wit
Combined, achieved a perfect "hit" -
The papers praised him greatly.
Annie Protheroe. A Legend Of Stratford-Le-Bow
OH! listen to the tale of little ANNIE PROTHEROE.
She kept a small post-office in the neighbourhood of BOW;
She loved a skilled mechanic, who was famous in his day -
A gentle executioner whose name was GILBERT CLAY.
I think I hear you say, "A dreadful subject for your rhymes!"
O reader, do not shrink - he didn't live in modern times!
He lived so long ago (the sketch will show it at a glance)
That all his actions glitter with the lime-light of Romance.
In busy times he laboured at his gentle craft all day -
"No doubt you mean his Cal-craft," you amusingly will say -
But, no - he didn't operate with common bits of string,
He was a Public Headsman, which is quite another thing.
And when his work was over, they would ramble o'er the lea,
And sit beneath the frondage of an elderberry tree,
And ANNIE'S simple prattle entertained him on his walk,
For public executions formed the subject of her talk.
And sometimes he'd explain to her, which charmed her very much,
How famous operators vary very much in touch,
And then, perhaps, he'd show how he himself performed the trick,
And illustrate his meaning with a poppy and a stick.
Or, if it rained, the little maid would stop at home, and look
At his favourable notices, all pasted in a book,
And then her cheek would flush - her swimming eyes would dance with
joy
In a glow of admiration at the prowess of her boy.
One summer eve, at supper-time, the gentle GILBERT said
(As he helped his pretty ANNIE to a slice of collared head),
"This reminds me I must settle on the next ensuing day
The hash of that unmitigated villain PETER GRAY."
He saw his ANNIE tremble and he saw his ANNIE start,
Her changing colour trumpeted the flutter at her heart;
Young GILBERT'S manly bosom rose and sank with jealous fear,
And he said, "O gentle ANNIE, what's the meaning of this here?"
And ANNIE answered, blushing in an interesting way,
"You think, no doubt, I'm sighing for that felon PETER GRAY:
That I was his young woman is unquestionably true,
But not since I began a-keeping company with you."
Then GILBERT, who was irritable, rose and loudly swore
He'd know the reason why if she refused to tell him more;
And she answered (all the woman in her flashing from her eyes)
"You mustn't ask no questions, and you won't be told no lies!
"Few lovers have the privilege enjoyed, my dear, by you,
Of chopping off a rival's head and quartering him too!
Of vengeance, dear, to-morrow you will surely take your fill!"
And GILBERT ground his molars as he answered her, "I will!"
Young GILBERT rose from table with a stern determined look,
And, frowning, took an inexpensive hatchet from its hook;
And ANNIE watched his movements with an interested air -
For the morrow - for the morrow he was going to prepare!
He chipped it with a hammer and he chopped it with a bill,
He poured sulphuric acid on the edge of it, until
This terrible Avenger of the Majesty of Law
Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw.
And ANNIE said, "O GILBERT, dear, I do not understand
Why ever you are injuring that hatchet in your hand?'
He said, "It is intended for to lacerate and flay
The neck of that unmitigated villain PETER GRAY!"
"Now, GILBERT," ANNIE answered, "wicked headsman, just beware -
I won't have PETER tortured with that horrible affair;
If you appear with that, you may depend you'll rue the day."
But GILBERT said, "Oh, shall I?" which was just his nasty way.
He saw a look of anger from her eyes distinctly dart,
For ANNIE was a woman, and had pity in her heart!
She wished him a good evening - he answered with a glare;
She only said, "Remember, for your ANNIE will be there!"
The morrow GILBERT boldly on the scaffold took his stand,
With a vizor on his face and with a hatchet in his hand,
And all the people noticed that the Engine of the Law
Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw.
The felon very coolly loosed his collar and his stock,
And placed his wicked head upon the handy little block.
The hatchet was uplifted for to settle PETER GRAY,
When GILBERT plainly heard a woman's voice exclaiming, "Stay!"
'Twas ANNIE, gentle ANNIE, as you'll easily believe.
"O GILBERT, you must spare him, for I bring him a reprieve,
It came from our Home Secretary many weeks ago,
And passed through that post-office which I used to keep at Bow.
"I loved you, loved you madly, and you know it, GILBERT CLAY,
And as I'd quite surrendered all idea of PETER GRAY,
I quietly suppressed it, as you'll clearly understand,
For I thought it might be awkward if he came and claimed my hand.
"In anger at my secret (which I could not tell before),
To lacerate poor PETER GRAY vindictively you swore;
I told you if you used that blunted axe you'd rue the day,
And so you will, young GILBERT, for I'll marry PETER GRAY!"
[AND SO SHE DID.]
Lost Mr. Blake
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!
Trial By Jury
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE LEARNED JUDGE
THE PLAINTIFF
THE DEFENDANT
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF
USHER
FOREMAN OF THE JURY
ASSOCIATE
FIRST BRIDESMAID
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
CHORUS
Hark, the hour of ten is sounding:
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,
Hall of Justice, crowds surrounding,
Breathing hope and fear--
For to-day in this arena,
Summoned by a stern subpoena,
Edwin, sued by Angelina,
Shortly will appear.
Enter Usher
SOLO - USHER
Now, Jurymen, hear my advice--
All kinds of vulgar prejudice
I pray you set aside:
With stern, judicial frame of mind
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
CHORUS
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
[During Chorus, Usher sings fortissimo, "Silence in Court!"]
USHER Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case:
Observe the features of her face--
The broken-hearted bride.
Condole with her distress of mind:
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
CHORUS From bias free, etc.
USHER And when, amid the plaintiff's shrieks,
The ruffianly defendant speaks--
Upon the other side;
What he may say you needn't mind---
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
CHORUS From bias free, etc.
Enter Defendant
RECIT -- DEFENDANT
Is this the court of the Exchequer?
ALL. It is!
DEFENDANT (aside) Be firm, be firm, my pecker,
Your evil star's in the ascendant!
ALL. Who are you?
DEFENDANT. I'm the Defendant.
CHORUS OF JURYMEN (shaking their fists)
Monster, dread our damages.
We're the jury!
Dread our fury!
DEFENDANT Hear me, hear me, if you please,
These are very strange proceedings--
For permit me to remark
On the merits of my pleadings,
You're at present in the dark.
[Defendant beckons to Jurymen--they leave the box and gather around
him as they sing the following:
That's a very true remark--
On the merits of his pleadings
We're at present in the dark!
Ha! ha!--ha! ha!
SONG -- DEFENDANT
When first my old, old love I knew,
My bosom welled with joy;
My riches at her feet I threw--
I was a love-sick boy!
No terms seemed too extravagant
Upon her to employ--
I used to mope, and sigh, and pant,
Just like a love-sick boy!
Tink-a-tank! Tink-a-tank!
But joy incessant palls the sense;
And love, unchanged, will cloy,
And she became a bore intense
Unto her love-sick boy!
With fitful glimmer burnt my flame,
And I grew cold and coy,
At last, one morning, I became
Another's love-sick boy.
Tink-a-tank! Tink-a-tank!
CHORUS OF JURYMEN (advancing stealthily)
Oh, I was like that when a lad!
A shocking young scamp of a rover,
I behaved like a regular cad;
But that sort of thing is all over.
I'm now a respectable chap
And shine with a virtue resplendent
And, therefore, I haven't a scrap
Of sympathy with the defendant!
He shall treat us with awe,
If there isn't a flaw,
Singing so merrily--Trial-la-law!
Trial-la-law! Trial-la-law!
Singing so merrily--Trial-la-law!
[They enter the Jury-box.]
RECIT--USHER (on Bench)
Silence in Court, and all attention lend.
Behold your Judge! In due submission bend!
Enter Judge on Bench
CHORUS
All hail, great Judge!
To your bright rays
We never grudge
Ecstatic praise.
All hail!
May each decree
As statute rank
And never be
Reversed in banc.
All hail!
RECIT--JUDGE
For these kind words, accept my thanks, I pray.
A Breach of Promise we've to try to-day.
But firstly, if the time you'll not begrudge,
I'll tell you how I came to be a Judge.
ALL. He'll tell us how he came to be a Judge!
JUDGE. I'll tell you how...
ALL. He'll tell us how...
JUDGE. I'll tell you how...
ALL. He'll tell us how...
JUDGE Let me speak...!
ALL. Let him speak!
JUDGE. Let me speak!
ALL. (in a whisper). Let him speak!
He'll tell us how he came to be a Judge!
USHER. Silence in Court! Silence in Court!
SONG--JUDGE
When I, good friends, was called to the bar,
I'd an appetite fresh and hearty.
But I was, as many young barristers are,
An impecunious party.
I'd a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue--
And a brief which I bought of a booby--
A couple of shirts, and a collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!
CHORUS. A couple of shirts, etc.
JUDGE. At Westminster Hall I danced a dance,
Like a semi-despondent fury;
For I thought I never should hit on a chance
Of addressing a British Jury--
But I soon got tired of third-class journeys,
And dinners of bread and water;
So I fell in love with a rich attorney's
Elderly, ugly daughter.
CHORUS. So he fell in love, etc.
JUDGE. The rich attorney, he jumped with joy,
And replied to my fond professions:
"You shall reap the reward of your pluck, my boy,
At the Bailey and Middlesex sessions.
You'll soon get used to her looks," said he,
"And a very nice girl you will find her!
She may very well pass for forty-three
In the dusk, with a light behind her!"
CHORUS. She may very well, etc.
JUDGE. The rich attorney was good as his word;
The briefs came trooping gaily,
And every day my voice was heard
At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey.
All thieves who could my fees afford
Relied on my orations.
And many a burglar I've restored
To his friends and his relations.
CHORUS. And many a burglar, etc.
JUDGE. At length I became as rich as the Gurneys--
An incubus then I thought her,
So I threw over that rich attorney's
Elderly, ugly daughter.
The rich attorney my character high
Tried vainly to disparage---
And now, if you please, I'm ready to try
This Breach of Promise of Marriage!
CHORUS. And now if you please, etc.
JUDGE. For now I'm a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. For now I'm a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Though all my law be fudge,
Yet I'll never, never budge,
But I'll live and die a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE (pianissimo). It was managed by a job--
ALL. And a good job, too!
JUDGE. It was managed by a job!
ALL. And a good job too!
JUDGE. It is patent to the mob,
That my being made a nob
Was effected by a job.
ALL. And a good job too!
[Enter Counsel for Plaintiff. He takes his place in front row of
Counsel's seats
RECIT -- COUNSEL
Swear thou the jury!
USHER. Kneel, Jurymen, oh, kneel!
[All the Jury kneel in the Jury-box, and so are hidden from
audience.
USHER. Oh, will you swear by yonder skies,
Whatever question may arise,
'Twixt rich and poor, 'twixt low and high,
That you will well and truly try?
JURY (raising their hands, which alone are visible)
To all of this we make reply
By the dull slate of yonder sky:
That we will well and truly try.
We'll try.
(All rise with the last note)
RECIT -- COUNSEL
Where is the Plaintiff?
Let her now be brought.
RECIT -- USHER
Oh, Angelina! Come thou into Court!
Angelina! Angelina!
Enter the Bridesmaids
CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS
Comes the broken flower--
Comes the cheated maid--
Though the tempest lower,
Rain and cloud will fade
Take, oh maid, these posies:
Though thy beauty rare
Shame the blushing roses,
They are passing fair!
Wear the flowers 'til they fade;
Happy be thy life, oh maid!
[The Judge, having taken a great fancy to First Bridesmaid, sends
her a note by Usher, which she reads, kisses rapturously,
and places in her bosom.
Enter Plaintiff
SOLO -- PLAINTIFF
O'er the season vernal,
Time may cast a shade;
Sunshine, if eternal,
Makes the roses fade!
Time may do his duty;
Let the thief alone--
Winter hath a beauty.
That is all his own.
Fairest days are sun and shade:
I am no unhappy maid!
[The Judge having by this time transferred his admiration to
Plaintiff, directs the Usher to take the note from First
Bridesmaid and hand it to Plaintiff, who reads it,
kisses it rapturously, and places it in her bosom.
CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS
Comes the broken flower, etc.
JUDGE. Oh, never, never, never,
Since I joined the human race,
Saw I so excellently fair a face.
THE JURY (shaking their forefingers at him). Ah, sly dog!
Ah, sly dog!
JUDGE (to Jury). How say you?
Is she not designed for capture?
FOREMAN (after consulting with the Jury). We've but one word,
m'lud, and that is--Rapture!
PLAINTIFF (curtseying). Your kindness, gentlemen, quite
overpowers!
JURY. We love you fondly, and would make you ours!
BRIDESMAIDS (shaking their forefingers at Jury).
Ah, sly dogs! Ah, sly dogs!
RECIT -- COUNSEL for PLAINTIFF
May it please you, m'lud!
Gentlemen of the jury!
ARIA -- COUNSEL
With a sense of deep emotion,
I approach this painful case;
For I never had a notion
That a man could be so base,
Or deceive a girl confiding,
Vows, etcetera deriding.
ALL. He deceived a girl confiding,
Vows, etcetera, deriding.
[Plaintiff falls sobbing on Counsel's breast and remains there.
COUNSEL. See my interesting client,
Victim of a heartless wile!
See the traitor all defiant
Wear a supercilious smile!
Sweetly smiled my client on him,
Coyly woo'd and gently won him.
ALL. Sweetly smiled, etc.
COUNSEL. Swiftly fled each honeyed hour
Spent with this unmanly male!
Camberwell became a bow'r,
Peckham an Arcadian Vale,
Breathing concentrated otto!--
An existence … la Watteau.
ALL. Bless, us, concentrated otto! etc.
COUNSEL. Picture, then, my client naming,
And insisting on the day:
Picture him excuses framing--
Going from her far away;
Doubly criminal to do so,
For the maid had bought her trousseau!
ALL. Doubly criminal, etc.
COUNSEL (to Plaintiff, who weeps)
Cheer up, my pretty--oh, cheer up!
JURY. Cheer up, cheer up, we love you!
[Counsel leads Plaintiff fondly into Witness-box; he takes a tender
leave of her, and resumes his place in Court.
(Plaintiff reels as if about to faint)
JUDGE. That she is reeling
Is plain to see!
FOREMAN. If faint you're feeling
Recline on me!
[She falls sobbing on to the Foreman's breast.
PLAINTIFF (feebly). I shall recover
If left alone.
ALL. (shaking their fists at Defendant)
Oh, perjured lover,
Atone! atone!
FOREMAN. Just like a father [Kissing her
I wish to be.
JUDGE. (approaching her)
Or, if you'd rather,
Recline on me!
[She jumps on to Bench, sits down by the Judge, and falls sobbing
on his breast.
COUNSEL. Oh! fetch some water
From far Cologne!
ALL. For this sad slaughter
Atone! atone!
JURY. (shaking fists at Defendant)
Monster, monster, dread our fury--
There's the Judge, and we're the Jury!
Come! Substantial damages,
Dam---
USHER. Silence in Court!
SONG -- DEFENDANT
Oh, gentlemen, listen, I pray,
Though I own that my heart has been ranging,
Of nature the laws I obey,
For nature is constantly changing.
The moon in her phases is found,
The time, and the wind, and the weather.
The months in succession come round,
And you don't find two Mondays together.
Consider the moral, I pray,
Nor bring a young fellow to sorrow,
Who loves this young lady to-day,
And loves that young lady to-morrow.
BRIDESMAIDS (rushing forward, and kneeling to Jury).
Consider the moral, etc.
One cannot eat breakfast all day,
Nor is it the act of a sinner,
When breakfast is taken away,
To turn his attention to dinner.
And it's not in the range of belief,
To look upon him as a glutton,
Who, when he is tired of beef,
Determines to tackle the mutton.
But this I am willing to say,
If it will appease her sorrow,
I'll marry this lady to-day,
And I'll marry the other to-morrow.
BRIDESMAIDS (rushing forward as before)
But this he is willing say, etc.
RECIT -- JUDGE
That seems a reasonable proposition,
To which, I think, your client may agree.
COUNSEL
But I submit, m'lud, with all submission,
To marry two at once is Burglaree!
[Referring to law book.
In the reign of James the Second,
It was generally reckoned
As a rather serious crime
To marry two wives at a time.
[Hands book up to Judge, who reads it.
ALL. Oh, man of learning!
QUARTETTE
JUDGE. A nice dilemma we have here,
That calls for all our wit:
COUNSEL. And at this stage, it don't appear
That we can settle it.
DEFENDANT (in Witness-box).
If I to wed the girl am loth
A breach 'twill surely be--
PLAINTIFF. And if he goes and marries both,
It counts as Burglaree!
ALL. A nice dilemma we have here,
That calls for all our wit.
DUET -- PLAINTIFF and DEFENDANT
PLAINTIFF (embracing him rapturously)
I love him--I love him--with fervour unceasing
I worship and madly adore;
My blind adoration is ever increasing,
My loss I shall ever deplore.
Oh, see what a blessing, what love and caressing
I've lost, and remember it, pray,
When you I'm addressing, are busy assessing
The damages Edwin must pay---
Yes, he must pay!
DEFENDANT (repelling her furiously)
I smoke like a furnace--I'm always in liquor,
A ruffian--a bully--a sot;
I'm sure I should thrash her, perhaps I should kick her,
I am such a very bad lot!
I'm not prepossessing, as you may be guessing,
She couldn't endure me a day!
Recall my professing, when you are assessing
The damages Edwin must pay!
PLAINTIFF. Yes, he must pay!
[She clings to him passionately; after a struggle, he throws her
off into arms of Counsel.
JURY. We would be fairly acting,
But this is most distracting!
If, when in liquor he would kick her,
That is an abatement.
RECIT -- JUDGE
The question, gentlemen--is one of liquor.
You ask for guidance--this is my reply:
He says, when tipsy, he would thrash and kick her.
Let's make him tipsy, gentlemen, and try!
COUNSEL. With all respect,
I do object!
PLAINTIFF. I do object!
DEFENDANT. I don't object!
ALL. With all respect
We do object!
JUDGE (tossing his books and paper about)
All the legal furies seize you!
No proposal seems to please you,
I can't sit up here all day,
I must shortly get away.
Barristers, and you, attorneys,
Set out on your homeward journeys;
Gentle, simple-minded Usher,
Get you, if you like, to Russher;
Put your briefs upon the shelf,
I will marry her myself!
[He comes down from Bench to floor of Court. He embraces
Angelina.
FINALE
PLAINTIFF. Oh, joy unbounded,
With wealth surrounded,
The knell is sounded
Of grief and woe.
COUNSEL. With love devoted
On you he's doated,
To castle moated
Away they go.
DEFENDANT. I wonder whether
They'll live together,
In marriage tether
In manner true?
USHER. It seems to me, sir,
Of such as she, sir,
A Judge is he, sir,
And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Yes, I am a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Yes, I am a Judge!
ALL. And a good Judge, too!
JUDGE. Though homeward as you trudge,
You declare my law is fudge.
Yet of beauty I'm a judge.
ALL. And a good Judge too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
ALL. And a great snob, too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
ALL. And a great snob, too!
JUDGE. Though defendant is a snob,
I'll reward him from his fob.
So we've settled with the job,
ALL. And a good job, too!
CURTAIN
The Sorcerer: Act Ii
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
Thespis: Act Ii
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
Thespis: Act I
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 I - Ruined Temple on the Summit of Mount Olympus
[Scene--The ruins of the The Temple of the Gods, on summit of
Mount Olympus. Picturesque shattered columns, overgrown with
ivy, etc. R. and L. with entrances to temple (ruined) R. Fallen
columns on the stage. Three broken pillars 2 R.E. At the back of
stage is the approach from the summit of the mountain. This
should be "practicable" to enable large numbers of people to
ascend and descend. In the distance are the summits of adjacent
mountains. At first all this is concealed by a thick fog, which
clears presently. Enter (through fog) Chorus of Stars coming off
duty as fatigued with their night's work]
CHO. Through the night, the constellations,
Have given light from various stations.
When midnight gloom falls on all nations,
We will resume our occupations.
SOLO. Our light, it's true, is not worth mention;
What can we do to gain attention.
When night and noon with vulgar glaring
A great big moon is always flaring.
[During chorus, enter Diana, an elderly goddess. She is carefully
wrapped up in cloaks, shawls, etc. A hood is over her head, a
respirator in her mouth, and galoshes on her feet. During the
chorus, she takes these things off and discovers herself dressed
in the usual costume of the Lunar Diana, the goddess of the moon.
DIA. [shuddering] Ugh. How cold the nights are. I don't know how
it is, but I seem to feel the night air a good deal more than I
used to. But it is time for the sun to be rising. [Calls] Apollo.
AP. [within] Hollo.
DIA. I've come off duty--it's time for you to be getting up.
[Enter Apollo. He is an elderly "buck" with an air of assumed
juvenility and is dressed in dressing gown and smoking cap.
AP. [yawning] I shan't go out today. I was out yesterday and the
day before and I want a little rest. I don't know how it is,but I
seem to feel my work a great deal more than I used to.
DIA. I am sure these short days can't hurt you. Why you don't
rise til six and you're in bed again by five; you should have a
turn at my work and see how you like that--out all night.
AP. My dear sister, I don't envy you--though I remember when I
did--but that was when I was a younger sun. I don't think I'm
quite well. Perhaps a little change of air will do me good. I've
a mind to show myself in London this winter. They'll be very glad
to see me. No. I shan't go out today. I shall send them this
fine, thick wholesome fog and they won't miss me. It's the best
substitute for a blazing sun--and like most substitutes, nothing
at all like the real thing.
[Fog clears away and discovers the scene described. Hurried
music. Mercury shoots up from behind precipice at the back of
stage. He carries several parcels afterwards described. He sits
down, very much fatigued.]
MER. Home at last. A nice time I've had of it.
DIA. You young scamp you've been out all night again. This is the
third time you've been out this week.
MER. Well you're a nice one to blow me up for that.
DIA. I can't help being out all night.
MER. And I can't help being down all night. The nature of Mercury
requires that he should go down when the sun sets, and rise again
when the sun rises.
DIA. And what have you been doing?
MER. Stealing on commission. There's a set of false teeth and a
box of Life Pills for Jupiter--an invisible peruke and a bottle
of hair dye--that's for Apollo--a respirator and a pair of
galoshes--that's for Cupid--a full bottomed chignon, some
auricomous fluid, a box of pearl-powder, a pot of rouge, and a
hare's foot--that's for Venus.
DIA. Stealing. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
MER. Oh, as the god of thieves I must do something to justify my
position.
DIA.and AP. [contemptuously] Your position.
MER. Oh, I know it's nothing to boast of even on earth. Up here,
it's simply contemptible. Now that you gods are too old for your
work, you've made me the miserable drudge of Olympus--groom,
valet, postman, butler, commissionaire, maid of all work, parish
beadle, and original dustman.
AP. Your Christmas boxes ought to be something considerable.
MER. They ought to be but they're not. I'm treated abominably.
I make everybody and I'm nobody. I go everywhere and I'm
nowhere. I do everything and I'm nothing. I've made thunder for
Jupiter, odes for Apollo, battles for Mars, and love for Venus.
I've married couples for Humen and six weeks afterwards, I've
divorced them for Cupid, and in return I get all the kicks while
they pocket the halfpence. And in compensation for robbing me of
the halfpence in question, what have they done for me.
AP. Why they've--ha.ha.ha. they've made you the god of thieves.
MER. Very self denying of them. There isn't one of them who
hasn't a better claim to the distinction than I have.
Oh, I'm the celestial drudge,
For morning to night I must stop at it.
On errands all day I must trudge,
And stick to my work til I drop at it.
In summer I get up at one.
(As a good-natured donkey I'm ranked for it.)
then I go and I light up the sun.
And Phoebus Apollo gets thanked for it.
Well, well, it's the way of the world.
And will be through all its futurity.
Though noodles are baroned and earled,
There's nothing for clever obscurity.
I'm the slave of the Gods, neck and heels,
And I'm bound to obey, though I rate at 'em.
And I not only order their meals,
But I cook 'em and serve'em and wait at 'em.
Then I make all their nectar, I do.
(What a terrible liquor to rack us is.)
And whenever I mix them a brew,
Why all the thanksgivings are Bacchus's.
Well, well, it's the way of the world, etc.....
The reading and writing I teach.
And spelling-books many I've edited.
And for bringing those arts within reach,
That donkey Minerva gets credited.
Then I scrape at the stars with a knife,
And plate-powder the moon (on the days for it).
And I hear all the world and his wife
Awarding Diana the praise for it.
Well, well, it's the way of the world, etc....
[After song--very loud and majestic music is heard]
DIA and MER [looking off] Why, who's this? Jupiter, by Jove.
[Enter Jupiter, an extremely old man, very decrepit, with very
thin straggling white beard, he wears a long braided dressing
gown, handsomely trimmed, and a silk night-cap on his head.
Mercury falls back respectfully as he enters.]
JUP. Good day, Diana. Ah, Apollo. Well, well, well, what's the
matter? What's the matter?
DIA. Why that young scamp Mercury says that we do nothing, and
leave all the duties of Olympus to him. Will you believe it, he
actually says that our influence on earth is dropping down to
nil.
JUP. Well, well. Don't be hard on the lad. To tell you the
truth, I'm not sure that he's far wrong. Don't let it go any
further, but, between ourselves, the sacrifices and votive
offerings have fallen off terribly of late. Why, I can remember
the time when people offered us human sacrifices, no mistake
about it, human sacrifices. Think of that.
DIA. Ah. Those good old days.
JUP. Then it fell off to oxen, pigs, and sheep.
AP. Well, there are worse things than oxen, pigs and sheep.
JUP. So I've found to my cost. My dear sir, between ourselves,
it's dropped off from one thing to another until it has
positively dwindled down to preserved Australian beef. What do
you think of that?
AP. I don't like it at all.
JUP. You won't mention it. It might go further.
DIA. It couldn't fare worse.
JUP. In short, matters have come to such a crisis that there's no
mistake about it--something must be done to restore our
influence, the only question is, what?
MER. [Coming forward in great alarm. Enter Mars]
Oh incident unprecedented.
I hardly can believe it's true.
MARS. Why, bless the boy, he's quite demented.
Why, what's the matter, sir, with you?
AP. Speak quickly, or you'll get a warming.
MER. Why, mortals up the mount are swarming
Our temple on Olympus storming,
In hundreds--aye in thousands, too.
ALL. Goodness gracious
How audacious
Earth is spacious
Why come here?
Our impeding
Their proceeding
Were good breeding
That is clear.
DIA. Jupiter, hear my plea.
Upon the mount if they light.
There'll be an end of me.
I won't be seen by daylight.
AP. Tartarus is the place
These scoundrels you should send to--
Should they behold my face.
My influence there's an end to.
JUP. [looking over precipice]
What fools to give themselves
so much exertion
DIA. A government survey I'll make assertion.
AP. Perhaps the Alpine clubs their diversion.
MER. They seem to be more like a "Cook's" excursion.
ALL. Goodness gracious, etc.
AP. If, mighty Jove, you value your existence,
Send them a thunderbolt with your regards.
JUP. My thunderbolts, though valid at a distance,
Are not effective at a hundred yards.
MER. Let the moon's rays, Diana, strike 'em flighty,
Make 'em all lunatics in various styles.
DIA. My lunar rays unhappily are mighty
Only at many hundred thousand miles.
ALL. Goodness gracious, etc...
[Exeunt Jupiter, Apollo, Diana, and Mercury into ruined temple]
[Enter Sparkeion and Nicemis climbing mountain at back.]
SPAR. Here we are at last on the very summit, and we've left the
others ever so far behind. Why, what's this?
NICE. A ruined palace. A palace on the top of a mountain. I
wonder who lives here? Some mighty kind, I dare say, with wealth
beyond all counting who came to live up here--
SPAR. To avoid his creditors. It's a lovely situation for a
country house though it's very much out of repair.
NICE. Very inconvenient situation.
SPAR. Inconvenient.
NICE. Yes, how are you to get butter, milk, and eggs up here? No
pigs, no poultry, no postman. Why, I should go mad.
SPAR. What a dear little practical mind it is. What a wife you
will make.
NICE. Don't be too sure--we are only partly married--the marriage
ceremony lasts all day.
SPAR. I have no doubt at all about it. We shall be as happy as a
king and queen, though we are only a strolling actor and actress.
NICE. It's very nice of Thespis to celebrate our marriage day by
giving the company a picnic on this lovely mountain.
SPAR. And still more kind to allow us to get so much ahead of all
the others. Discreet Thespis. [kissing her]
NICE,. There now, get away, do. Remember the marriage ceremony
is not yet completed.
SPAR. But it would be ungrateful to Thespis's discretion not to
take advantage of it by improving the opportunity.
NICE. Certainly not; get away.
SPAR. On second thought the opportunity's so good it don't admit
of improvement. There. [kisses her]
NICE. How dare you kiss me before we are quite married?
SPAR. Attribute it to the intoxicating influence of the mountain
air.
NICE. Then we had better do down again. It is not right to
expose ourselves to influences over which we have no control.
SPAR. Here far away from all the world,
Dissension and derision,
With Nature's wonders all unfurled
To our delighted vision,
With no one here
(At least in sight)
To interfere
With our delight,
And two fond lovers sever,
Oh do not free,
Thine hand from mine,
I swear to thee
My love is ever thine
For ever and for ever.
NICE. On mountain top the air is keen,
And most exhilarating,
And we say things we do not mean
In moments less elating.
So please to wait
For thoughts that crop,
En tete-a-tete,
On mountain top,
May not exactly tally
With those that you
May entertain,
Returning to
The sober plain
Of yon relaxing valley
SPAR. Very well--if you won't have anything to say to me, I know
who will.
NICE. Who will?
SPAR. Daphne will.
NICE. Daphne would flirt with anybody.
SPAR. Anybody would flirt with Daphne. She is quite as pretty as
you and has twice as much back-hair.
NICE. She has twice as much money, which may account for it.
SPAR. At all events, she has appreciation. She likes good looks.
NICE. We all like what we haven;t got.
SPAR. She keeps her eyes open.
NICE. Yes--one of them.
SPAR. Which one.
NICE. The one she doesn't wink with.
SPAR. Well, I was engaged to her for six months and if she still
makes eyes at me, you must attribute it to force of habit.
Besides--remember--we are only half-married at present.
NICE. I suppose you mean that you are going to treat me as
shamefully as you treated her. Very well, break it off if you
like. I shall not offer any objection. Thespis used to be very
attentive to me. I'd just as soon be a manager's wife as a fifth-
rate actor's.
[Chorus heard, at first below, then enter Daphne, Pretteia,
Preposteros, Stupidas, Tipseion, Cymon, and other members of
Thespis's company climbing over rocks at back. All carry small
baskets.]
CHO. [with dance] Climbing over rocky mountain
Skipping rivulet and fountain,
Passing where the willows quiver
By the ever rolling river,
Swollen with the summer rain.
Threading long and leafy mazes,
Dotted with unnumbered daisies,
Scaling rough and rugged passes,
Climb the hearty lads and lasses,
Til the mountain-top they gain.
FIRST VOICE. Fill the cup and tread the measure
Make the most of fleeting leisure.
Hail it as a true ally
Though it perish bye and bye.
SECOND VOICE. Every moment brings a treasure
Of its own especial pleasure,
Though the moments quickly die,
Greet them gaily as they fly.
THIRD VOICE. Far away from grief and care,
High up in the mountain air,
Let us live and reign alone,
In a world that's all our own.
FOURTH VOICE. Here enthroned in the sky,
Far away from mortal eye,
We'll be gods and make decrees,
Those may honor them who please.
CHO. Fill the cup and tread the measure...etc.
[After Chorus and Couples enter, Thespis climbing over rocks]
THES. Bless you, my people, bless you. Let the revels commence.
After all, for thorough, unconstrained unconventional enjoyment
give me a picnic.
PREP. [very gloomily] Give him a picnic, somebody.
THES. Be quiet, Preposteros. Don't interrupt.
PREP. Ha. Ha. Shut up again. But no matter.
[Stupidas endeavors, in pantomime, to reconcile him. Throughout
the scene Prep shows symptoms of breaking out into a furious
passion, and Stupidas does all he can to pacify and restrain
him.]
THES. The best of a picnic is that everybody contributes what he
pleases, and nobody knows what anybody else has brought til the
last moment. Now, unpack everybody and let's see what there is
for everybody.
NICE. I have brought you--a bottle of soda water--for the claret-
cup.
DAPH. I have brought you--lettuce for the lobster salad.
SPAR. A piece of ice--for the claret-cup.
PRETT. A bottle of vinegar--for the lobster salad.
CYMON. A bunch of burrage for the claret-cup.
TIPS. A hard boiled egg--for the lobster salad.
STUP. One lump of sugar for the claret-cup.
PREP. He has brought one lump of sugar for the claret-cup? Ha.
Ha. Ha. [laughing melodramatically]
STUP. Well, Preposteros, what have you brought?
PREP. I have brought two lumps of the very best salt for the
lobster salad.
THES. Oh--is that all?
PREP. All. Ha. Ha. He asks if it is all. {Stup. consoles him]
THES. But, I say--this is capital so far as it goes. Nothing
could be better, but it doesn't go far enough. The claret, for
instance. I don't insist on claret--or a lobster--I don't insist
on lobster, but a lobster salad without a lobster, why it isn't
lobster salad. Here, Tipseion.
TIP. [a very drunken, bloated fellow, dressed, however, with
scrupulous accuracy and wearing a large medal around his neck] My
master. [Falls on his knees to Thes. and kisses his robe.]
THES. Get up--don't be a fool. Where's the claret? We arranged
last week that you were to see to that.
TIPS. True, dear master. But then I was a drunkard.
THES. You were.
TIPS. You engaged me to play convivial parts on the strength of
my personal appearance.
THES. I did.
TIPS. Then you found that my habits interfered with my duties as
low comedian.
THES. True.
TIPS. You said yesterday that unless I took the pledge you would
dismiss me from your company.
THES. Quite so.
TIPS. Good. I have taken it. It is all I have taken since
yesterday. My preserver. [embraces him]
THES. Yes, but where's the wine?
TIPS. I left it behind that I might not be tempted to violate my
pledge.
PREP. Minion. [Attempts to get at him, is restrained by Stupidas]
THES. Now, Preposteros, what is the matter with you?
PREP. It is enough that I am down-trodden in my profession. I
will not submit to imposition out of it. It is enough that as
your heavy villain I get the worst of it every night in a combat
of six. I will not submit to insult in the day time. I have come
out. Ha. Ha. to enjoy myself.
THES. But look here, you know--virtue only triumphs at night from
seven to ten--vice gets the best of it during the other twenty
one hours. Won't that satisfy you? [Stupidas endeavours to
pacify him.]
PREP. [Irritated to Stupidas] Ye are odious to my sight. Get out
of it.
STUP. [In great terror] What have I done?
THES. Now what is it. Preposteros, what is it?
PREP. I a -- hate him and would have his life.
THES. [to Stup.] That's it--he hates you and would have your
life. Now go and be merry.
STUP. Yes, but why does he hate me?
THES. Oh--exactly. [to Prep.] Why do you hate him?
PREP. Because he is a minion.
THES. He hates you because you are a minion. It explains itself.
Now go and enjoy yourselves. Ha. Ha. It is well for those who can
laugh--let them do so--there is no extra charge. The light-
hearted cup and the convivial jest for them--but for me--what is
there for me?
SILLI. There is some claret-cup and lobster salad [handing some]
THES. [taking it] Thank you. [Resuming] What is there for me but
anxiety--ceaseless gnawing anxiety that tears at my very vitals
and rends my peace of mind asunder? There is nothing whatever
for me but anxiety of the nature I have just described. The
charge of these thoughtless revellers is my unhappy lot. It is
not a small charge, and it is rightly termed a lot because there
are many. Oh why did the gods make me a manager?
SILL. [as guessing a riddle] Why did the gods make him a manager?
SPAR. Why did the gods make him a manager.
DAPH. Why did the gods make him a manager?
PRETT. Why did the gods make him a manager?
THES. No--no--what are you talking about? What do you mean?
DAPH. I've got it--no don't tell us.
ALL. No--no--because--because
THES. [annoyed] It isn't a conundrum. It's misanthropical
question.
DAPH. [Who is sitting with Spar. to the annoyance of Nice. who is
crying alone] I'm sure I don't know. We do not want you. Don't
distress yourself on our account--we are getting on very
comfortably--aren't we Sparkeion.
SPAR. We are so happy that we don't miss the lobster or the
claret. What are lobster and claret compared with the society of
those we love? [embracing Daphne.]
DAPH. Why, Nicemis, love, you are eating nothing. Aren't you
happy dear?
NICE. [spitefully] You are quite welcome to my share of
everything. I intend to console myself with the society of my
manager. [takes Thespis' arm affectionately].
THES. Here I say--this won't do, you know--I can't allow it--at
least before my company--besides, you are half-married to
Sparkeion. Sparkeion, here's your half-wife impairing my
influence before my company. Don't you know the story of the
gentleman who undermined his influence by associating with his
inferiors?
ALL. Yes, yes--we know it.
PREP. [formally] I do not know it. It's ever thus. Doomed to
disappointment from my earliest years. [Stup. endeavours to
console him]
THES. There--that's enough. Preposteros--you shall hear it.
I once knew a chap who discharged a function
On the North South East West Diddlesex Junction.
He was conspicuous exceeding,
For his affable ways, and his easy breeding.
Although a chairman of directions,
He was hand in glove with the ticket inspectors.
He tipped the guards with brand new fivers,
And sang little songs to the engine drivers.
'Twas told to me with great compunction,
By one who had discharged with unction
A chairman of directors function
On the North South East West Diddlesex Junction.
Fol diddle, lol diddle, lol lol lay.
Each Christmas day he gave each stoker
A silver shovel and a golden poker.
He'd button holw flowers for the ticket sorters
And rich Bath-buns for the outside porters.
He'd moun the clerks on his first-class hunters,
And he build little villas for the road-side shunters,
And if any were fond of pigeon shooting,
He'd ask them down to his place at Tooting.
Twas told to me....etc.
In course of time there spread a rumour
That he did all this from a sense of humour.
So instead of signalling and stoking,
They gave themselves up to a course of joking.
Whenever they knew that he was riding,
They shunted his train on a lonely siding,
Or stopped all night in the middle of a tunnel,
On the plea that the boiler was a-coming through the funnel.
Twas told to me...etc.
It he wished to go to Perth or Stirling,
His train through several counties whirling,
Would set him down in a fit of larking,
At four a.m. in the wilds of Barking.
This pleased his whim and seemed to strike it,
But the general public did not like it.
The receipts fell, after a few repeatings,
And he got it hot at the annual meetings.
Twas told to me...etc.
He followed out his whim with vigour,
The shares went down to a nominal figure.
These are the sad results proceeding
From his affable ways and his easy breeding.
The line, with its rais and guards and peelers,
Was sold for a song to marine store dealers
The shareholders are all in the work'us,
And he sells pipe-lights in the Regent Circus.
Twas told to me...etc.
It's very hard. As a man I am naturally of an easy disposition.
As a manager, I am compelled to hold myself aloof, that my
influence may not be deteriorated. As a man I am inclined to
fraternize with the pauper--as a manager I am compelled to walk
around like this: Don't know yah. Don't know yah. Don't know yah.
[Strides haughtily about the stage. Jupiter, Mars, and Apollo, in
full Olympian costume appear on the three broken columns.
Thespians scream.]
JUP, MARS, AP. Presumptuous mortal.
THES. Don't know ya. Don't know yah.
JUP, MARS, AP. [seated on broken pillars] Presumptuous mortal.
THES. I do not know you. I do not know you.
JUP, MARS, AP. Presumptuous mortal.
THES. Remove this person.
[Stup and Prep seize Ap and Mars]
JUP. Stop, you evidently don't know me. Allow me to offer you my
card. [Throws flash paper]
THES. Ah yes, it's very pretty, but we don't want any at present.
When we do our Christmas piece, I'll let you know. [Changing his
manner] Look here, you know this is a private party and we
haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance. There are a good many
other mountains about, if you must have a mountain all to
yourself. Don't make me let myself down before my company.
[Resuming] Don't know yah, Don't know yah.
JUP. I am Jupiter, the king of the gods. This is Apollo. This is
Mars. [All kneel to them except Thespis]
THES. Oh. Then as I'm a respectable man, and rather particular
about the company I keep, I think I'll go.
JUP. No--no--stop a bit. We want to consult you on a matter of
great importance. There. Now we are alone. Who are you?
THES. I am Thespis of the Thessalian Theatres.
JUP. The very man we want. Now as a judge of what the public
likes are you impressed with my appearance as father of the gods?
THES. Well to be candid with you, I am not. In fact I'm
disappointed.
JUP. Disappointed?
THES. Yes, you see you're so much out of repair. No, you don't
come up to my idea of the part. Bless you, I've played you often.
JUP. You have.
THES. To be sure I have.
JUP. And how have you dressed the part.
THES. Fine commanding party in the prime of life. Thunderbolt--
full beard--dignified manner--a good eal of this sort of thin
"Don't know ya. Don't know yah. Don't know yah.
JUP. [much affected] I--I'm very much obliged to you. It's very
good of you. I--I--I used to be like that. I can't tell you how
much I feel it. And do you find I'm an impressive character to
play?
THES. Well no, I can't say you are. In fact we don't you you
much out of burlesque.
JUP. Burlesque!
THES. Yes, it's a painful subject, drop it, drop it. The fact
is, you are not the gods you were--you're behind your age.
JUP. Well, but what are we to do? We feel that we ought to do
something, but we don't know what.
THES. Why don't you all go down to earth, incog, mingle with the
world, hear and see what people think of you, and judge for
yourselves as to the best means to take to restore your
influence?
JUP. Ah, but what's to become of Olympus in the meantime?
THES. Lor' bless you, don't distress yourself about that. I've a
very good company, used to take long parts on the shortest
notice. Invest us with your powers and we'll fill your places
till you return.
JUP. [aside] The offer is tempting. But suppose you fail?
THES. Fail. Oh, we never fail in our profession. We've nothing
but great successes.
JUP. Then it's a bargain.
THES. It's a bargain. [they shake hands on it]
JUP. And that you may not be entirely without assistance, we will
leave you Mercury and whenever you find yourself in a difficulty
you can consult him. [enter Mercury]
JUP. So that's arranged--you take my place, my boy,
While we make trial of a new existence.
At length I will be able to enjoy
The pleasures I have envied from a distance.
MER. Compelled upon Olympus here to stop,
While the other gods go down to play the hero.
Don't be surprised if on this mountain top
You find your Mercury is down at zero.
AP. To earth away to join in mortal acts.
And gather fresh materials to write on.
Investigate more closely, several facts,
That I for centuries have thrown some light on.
DIA. I, as the modest moon with crescent bow.
Have always shown a light to nightly scandal,
I must say I'd like to go below,
And find out if the game is worth the candle.
[enter all thespians, summoned by Mercury]
MER. Here come your people.
THES. People better now.
THES. While mighty Jove goes down below
With all the other deities.
I fill his place and wear his "clo,"
The very part for me it is.
To mother earth to make a track,
They are all spurred and booted, too.
And you will fill, till they come back,
The parts you best are suited to.
CHO. Here's a pretty tale for future Iliads and Odysseys
Mortals are about to personate the gods and goddesses.
Now to set the world in order, we will work in unity.
Jupiter's perplexity is Thespis's opportunity.
SPAR. Phoebus am I, with golden ray,
The god of day, the god of day.
When shadowy night has held her sway,
I make the goddesses fly.
Tis mine the task to wake the world,
In slumber curled, in slumber curled.
By me her charms are all unfurled
The god of day am I.
CHO. The god of day, the god of day,
The park shall our Sparkeion play,
Ha Ha, etc.
The rarest fun and rarest fare
That ever fell to mortal share
Ha ha etc.
NICE. I am the moon, the lamp of night.
I show a light -- I show a light.
With radiant sheen I put to flight
The shadows of the sky.
By my fair rays, as you're aware,
Gay lovers swear--gay lovers swear,
While greybeards sleep away their care,
The lamp of night am I.
CHO. The lamp of night-the lamp of night.
Nicemis plays, to her delight.
Ha Ha Ha Ha.
The rarest fun and rarest fare,
That ever fell to mortal share,
Ha Ha Ha Ha
TIM. Mighty old Mars, the god of war,
I'm destined for--I'm destined for.
A terribly famous conqueror,
With sword upon his thigh.
When armies meet with eager shout
And warlike rout, and warlike rout,
You'll find me there without a doubt.
The God of War am I.
CHO. The god of war, the god of war
Great Timidon is destined for.
Ha Ha Ha Ha
The rest fun and rarest fare
That ever fell to mortal share
Ha Ha Ha Ha
DAPH. When, as the fruit of warlike deeds,
The soldier bleed, the soldier bleeds,
Calliope crowns heroic deeds,
With immortality.
From mere oblivion I reclaim
The soldier's name, the soldier's name
And write it on the roll of fame,
The muse of fame am I.
CHO. The muse of fame, the muse of fame.
Callipe is Daphne's name.
Ha Ha Ha Ha
The rarest fun and rarest fare,
That ever fell to mortal share.
Ha Ha Ha Ha.
TUTTI. Here's a pretty tale.
[Enter procession of old Gods, they come down very much
astonished at all they see, then passing by, ascent the platform
that leads to the descent at the back.]
GODS. We will go,
Down below,
Revels rare,
We will share.
Ha Ha Ha
With a gay
Holiday
All unknown,
And alone
Ha Ha Ha.
TUTTI. Here's a pretty tale.
[The gods, including those who have lately entered in procession
group themselves on rising ground at back. The Thespians kneeling
bid them farewell.]