Part 2
Time sped, and when at the end of a year I sought that infant cherished, That highly respectable gondolier Was lying a corpse on his humble bier— I dropped a Grand Inquisitor's tear— That gondolier had perished.
A taste for drink, combined with gout, Had doubled him up for ever. Of that there is no manner of doubt— No probable, possible shadow of doubt— No possible doubt whatever.
ALL. No possible doubt whatever.
The children followed his old career— (This statement can't be parried) Of a highly respectable gondolier: Well, one of the two (who will soon be here)— But which of the two is not quite clear— Is the Royal Prince you married!
Search in and out and round about, And you'll discover never A tale so free from every doubt— All probable, possible shadow of doubt— All possible doubt whatever!
ALL. A tale free from every doubt, etc.
CAS. Then do you mean to say that I am married to one of two gondoliers, but it is impossible to say which? DON AL. Without any doubt of any kind whatever. But be reassured: the nurse to whom your husband was entrusted is the mother of the musical young man who is such a past-master of that delicately modulated instrument (indicating the drum). She can, no doubt, establish the King's identity beyond all question. LUIZ. Heavens, how did he know that? DON AL. My young friend, a Grand Inquisitor is always up to date. (To Cas.) His mother is at present the wife of a highly respectable and old-established brigand, who carries on an extensive practice in the mountains around Cordova. Accompanied by two of my emissaries, he will set off at once for his mother's address. She will return with them, and if she finds any difficulty in making up her mind, the persuasive influence of the torture chamber will jog her memory.
RECITATIVE—CASILDA and DON ALHAMBRA.
CAS. But, bless my heart, consider my position! I am the wife of one, that's very clear; But who can tell, except by intuition, Which is the Prince, and which the Gondolier?
DON AL. Submit to Fate without unseemly wrangle: Such complications frequently occur— Life is one closely complicated tangle: Death is the only true unraveller!
QUINTET—DUKE, DUCHESS, CASILDA, LUIZ, and GRAND INQUISITOR.
ALL. Try we life-long, we can never Straighten out life's tangled skein, Why should we, in vain endeavour, Guess and guess and guess again?
LUIZ. Life's a pudding full of plums,
DUCH. Care's a canker that benumbs.
ALL. Life's a pudding full of plums, Care's a canker that benumbs. Wherefore waste our elocution On impossible solution? Life's a pleasant institution, Let us take it as it comes!
Set aside the dull enigma, We shall guess it all too soon; Failure brings no kind of stigma— Dance we to another tune!
LUIZ. String the lyre and fill the cup,
DUCH. Lest on sorrow we should sup.
ALL. Hop and skip to Fancy's fiddle, Hands across and down the middle— Life's perhaps the only riddle That we shrink from giving up!
(Exeunt all into Ducal Palace except Luiz, who goes off in gondola.)
(Enter Gondoliers and Contadine, followed by Marco, Gianetta, Giuseppe, and Tessa.)
CHORUS.
Bridegroom and bride! Knot that's insoluble, Voices all voluble Hail it with pride. Bridegroom and bride! We in sincerity Wish you prosperity, Bridegroom and bride!
SONG—TESSA.
TESS. When a merry maiden marries, Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries; Every sound becomes a song, All is right, and nothing's wrong! From to-day and ever after Let our tears be tears of laughter. Every sigh that finds a vent Be a sigh of sweet content! When you marry, merry maiden, Then the air with love is laden; Every flower is a rose, Every goose becomes a swan, Every kind of trouble goes Where the last year's snows have gone!
CHORUS. Sunlight takes the place of shade When you marry, merry maid!
TESS. When a merry maiden marries, Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries; Every sound becomes a song, All is right, and nothing's wrong. Gnawing Care and aching Sorrow, Get ye gone until to-morrow; Jealousies in grim array, Ye are things of yesterday! When you marry, merry maiden, Then the air with joy is laden; All the corners of the earth Ring with music sweetly played, Worry is melodious mirth, Grief is joy in masquerade;
CHORUS. Sullen night is laughing day— All the year is merry May!
(At the end of the song, Don Alhambra enters at back. The Gondoliers and Contadine shrink from him, and gradually go off, much alarmed.)
GIU. And now our lives are going to begin in real earnest! What's a bachelor? A mere nothing—he's a chrysalis. He can't be said to live—he exists. MAR. What a delightful institution marriage is! Why have we wasted all this time? Why didn't we marry ten years ago? TESS. Because you couldn't find anybody nice enough. GIA. Because you were waiting for us. MAR. I suppose that was the reason. We were waiting for you without knowing it. (Don Alhambra comes forward.) Hallo! DON AL. Good morning. GIU. If this gentleman is an undertaker it's a bad omen. DON AL. Ceremony of some sort going on? GIU. (aside). He is an undertaker! (Aloud.) No—a little unimportant family gathering. Nothing in your line. DON AL. Somebody's birthday, I suppose? GIA. Yes, mine! TESS. And mine! MAR. And mine! GIU. And mine! DON AL. Curious coincidence! And how old may you all be? TESS. It's a rude question—but about ten minutes. DON AL. Remarkably fine children! But surely you are jesting? TESS. In other words, we were married about ten minutes since. DON AL. Married! You don't mean to say you are married? MAR. Oh yes, we are married. DON AL. What, both of you? ALL. All four of us. DON AL. (aside). Bless my heart, how extremely awkward! GIA. You don't mind, I suppose? TESS. You were not thinking of either of us for yourself, I presume? Oh, Giuseppe, look at him—he was. He's heart-broken! DON AL. No, no, I wasn't! I wasn't! GIU. Now, my man (slapping him on the back), we don't want anything in your line to-day, and if your curiosity's satisfied—you can go! DON AL. You mustn't call me your man. It's a liberty. I don't think you know who I am. GIU. Not we, indeed! We are jolly gondoliers, the sons of Baptisto Palmieri, who led the last revolution. Republicans, heart and soul, we hold all men to be equal. As we abhor oppression, we abhor kings: as we detest vain-glory, we detest rank: as we despise effeminacy, we despise wealth. We are Venetian gondoliers—your equals in everything except our calling, and in that at once your masters and your servants. DON AL. Bless my heart, how unfortunate! One of you may be Baptisto's son, for anything I know to the contrary; but the other is no less a personage than the only son of the late King of Barataria. ALL. What! DON AL. And I trust—I trust it was that one who slapped me on the shoulder and called me his man! GIU. One of us a king! MAR. Not brothers! TESS. The King of Barataria! [Together] GIA. Well, who'd have thought it! MAR. But which is it? DON AL. What does it matter? As you are both Republicans, and hold kings in detestation, of course you'll abdicate at once. Good morning! (Going.) GIA. and TESS. Oh, don't do that! (Marco and Giuseppe stop him.) GIU. Well, as to that, of course there are kings and kings. When I say that I detest kings, I mean I detest bad kings. DON AL. I see. It's a delicate distinction. GIU. Quite so. Now I can conceive a kind of king—an ideal king—the creature of my fancy, you know—who would be absolutely unobjectionable. A king, for instance, who would abolish taxes and make everything cheap, except gondolas— MAR. And give a great many free entertainments to the gondoliers— GIU. And let off fireworks on the Grand Canal, and engage all the gondolas for the occasion— MAR. And scramble money on the Rialto among the gondoliers. GIU. Such a king would be a blessing to his people, and if I were a king, that is the sort of king I would be. MAR. And so would I! DON AL. Come, I'm glad to find your objections are not insuperable. MAR. and GIU. Oh, they're not insuperable. GIA. and TESS. No, they're not insuperable. GIU. Besides, we are open to conviction. GIA. Yes; they are open to conviction. TESS. Oh! they've often been convicted. GIU. Our views may have been hastily formed on insufficient grounds. They may be crude, ill-digested, erroneous. I've a very poor opinion of the politician who is not open to conviction. TESS. (to Gia.). Oh, he's a fine fellow! GIA. Yes, that's the sort of politician for my money! DON AL. Then we'll consider it settled. Now, as the country is in a state of insurrection, it is absolutely necessary that you should assume the reins of Government at once; and, until it is ascertained which of you is to be king, I have arranged that you will reign jointly, so that no question can arise hereafter as to the validity of any of your acts. MAR. As one individual? DON AL. As one individual. GIU. (linking himself with Marco). Like this? DON AL. Something like that. MAR. And we may take our friends with us, and give them places about the Court? DON AL. Undoubtedly. That's always done! MAR. I'm convinced! GIU. So am I! TESS. Then the sooner we're off the better. GIA. We'll just run home and pack up a few things (going)— DON AL. Stop, stop—that won't do at all—ladies are not admitted. ALL. What! DON AL. Not admitted. Not at present. Afterwards, perhaps. We'll see. GIU. Why, you don't mean to say you are going to separate us from our wives! DON AL. (aside). This is very awkward! (Aloud.) Only for a time—a few months. Alter all, what is a few months? TESS. But we've only been married half an hour! (Weeps.)
FINALE, ACT I.
SONG—GIANETTA.
Kind sir, you cannot have the heart Our lives to part From those to whom an hour ago We were united! Before our flowing hopes you stem, Ah, look at them, And pause before you deal this blow, All uninvited! You men can never understand That heart and hand Cannot be separated when We go a-yearning; You see, you've only women's eyes To idolize And only women's hearts, poor men, To set you burning! Ah me, you men will never understand That woman's heart is one with woman's hand!
Some kind of charm you seem to find In womankind— Some source of unexplained delight (Unless you're jesting), But what attracts you, I confess, I cannot guess, To me a woman's face is quite Uninteresting! If from my sister I were torn, It could be borne— I should, no doubt, be horrified, But I could bear it;— But Marco's quite another thing— He is my King, He has my heart and none beside Shall ever share it! Ah me, you men will never understand That woman's heart is one with woman's hand!
RECITATIVE—DON ALHAMBRA.
Do not give way to this uncalled-for grief, Your separation will be very brief. To ascertain which is the King And which the other, To Barataria's Court I'll bring His foster-mother; Her former nurseling to declare She'll be delighted. That settled, let each happy pair Be reunited.
MAR., GIU., Viva! His argument is strong! GIA., TESS. Viva! We'll not be parted long! Viva! It will be settled soon! Viva! Then comes our honeymoon!
(Exit Don Alhambra.)
QUARTET—MARCO, GIUSEPPE., GIANETTA, TESSA.
GIA. Then one of us will be a Queen, And sit on a golden throne, With a crown instead Of a hat on her head, And diamonds all her own! With a beautiful robe of gold and green, I've always understood; I wonder whether She'd wear a feather? I rather think she should!
ALL. Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, To be a regular Royal Queen! No half-and-half affair, I mean, But a right-down regular Royal Queen!
MAR. She'll drive about in a carriage and pair, With the King on her left-hand side, And a milk-white horse, As a matter of course, Whenever she wants to ride! With beautiful silver shoes to wear Upon her dainty feet; With endless stocks Of beautiful frocks And as much as she wants to eat!
ALL. Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.
TESS. Whenever she condescends to walk, Be sure she'll shine at that, With her haughty stare And her nose in the air, Like a well-born aristocrat! At elegant high society talk She'll bear away the bell, With her "How de do?" And her "How are you?" And "I trust I see you well!"
ALL. Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.
GIU. And noble lords will scrape and bow, And double themselves in two, And open their eyes In blank surprise At whatever she likes to do. And everybody will roundly vow She's fair as flowers in May, And say, "How clever!" At whatsoever She condescends to say!
ALL. Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, To be a regular Royal Queen! No half-and-half affair, I mean, But a right-down regular Royal Queen!
(Enter Chorus of Gondoliers and Contadine.)
CHORUS.
Now, pray, what is the cause of this remarkable hilarity? This sudden ebullition of unmitigated jollity? Has anybody blessed you with a sample of his charity? Or have you been adopted by a gentleman of quality?
MAR. and GIU. Replying, we sing As one individual, As I find I'm a king, To my kingdom I bid you all. I'm aware you object To pavilions and palaces, But you'll find I respect Your Republican fallacies.
CHORUS. As they know we object To pavilions and palaces, How can they respect Our Republican fallacies?
MARCO and GIUSEPPE.
MAR. For every one who feels inclined, Some post we undertake to find Congenial with his frame of mind— And all shall equal be.
GIU. The Chancellor in his peruke— The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook, The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook— They all shall equal be.
MAR. The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts— The Aristocrat who hunts and shoots— The Aristocrat who cleans our boots— They all shall equal be!
GIU. The Noble Lord who rules the State— The Noble Lord who cleans the plate—
MAR. The Noble Lord who scrubs the grate— They all shall equal be!
GIU. The Lord High Bishop orthodox— The Lord High Coachman on the box—
MAR. The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks— They all shall equal be!
BOTH. For every one, etc.
Sing high, sing low, Wherever they go, They all shall equal be!
CHORUS. Sing high, sing low, Wherever they go, They all shall equal be!
The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook, The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook, The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts, The Aristocrat who cleans the boots, The Noble Lord who rules the State, The Noble Lord who scrubs the grate, The Lord High Bishop orthodox, The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks—
For every one, etc.
Sing high, sing low, Wherever they go, They all shall equal be!
Then hail! O King, Whichever you may be, To you we sing, But do not bend the knee. Then hail! O King.
MARCO and GIUSEPPE (together).
Come, let's away—our island crown awaits me— Conflicting feelings rend my soul apart! The thought of Royal dignity elates me, But leaving thee behind me breaks my heart!
(Addressing Gianetta and Tessa.)
GIANETTA and TESSA (together).
Farewell, my love; on board you must be getting; But while upon the sea you gaily roam, Remember that a heart for thee is fretting— The tender little heart you've left at home!
GIA. Now, Marco dear, My wishes hear: While you're away It's understood You will be good And not too gay. To every trace Of maiden grace You will be blind, And will not glance By any chance On womankind!
If you are wise, You'll shut your eyes Till we arrive, And not address A lady less Than forty-five. You'll please to frown On every gown That you may see; And, O my pet, You won't forget You've married me!
And O my darling, O my pet, Whatever else you may forget, In yonder isle beyond the sea, Do not forget you've married me!
TESS. You'll lay your head Upon your bed At set of sun. You will not sing Of anything To any one. You'll sit and mope All day, I hope, And shed a tear Upon the life Your little wife Is passing here.
And if so be You think of me, Please tell the moon! I'll read it all In rays that fall On the lagoon: You'll be so kind As tell the wind How you may be, And send me words By little birds To comfort me!
And O my darling, O my pet, Whatever else you may forget, In yonder isle beyond the sea, Do not forget you've married me!
QUARTET. Oh my darling, O my pet, etc.
CHORUS (during which a "Xebeque" is hauled alongside the quay.)
Then away we go to an island fair That lies in a Southern sea: We know not where, and we don't much care, Wherever that isle may be.
THE MEN (hauling on boat). One, two, three, Haul! One, two, three, Haul! One, two, three, Haul! With a will!
ALL. When the breezes are a-blowing The ship will be going, When they don't we shall all stand still! Then away we go to an island fair, We know not where, and we don't much care, Wherever that isle may be.
SOLO—MARCO.
Away we go To a balmy isle, Where the roses blow All the winter while.
ALL (hoisting sail). Then away we go to an island fair That lies in a Southern sea: Then away we go to an island fair, Then away, then away, then away!
(The men embark on the "Xebeque." Marco and Giuseppe embracing Gianetta and Tessa. The girls wave a farewell to the men as the curtain falls.) END OF ACT I
## ACT II
SCENE.—Pavilion in the Court of Barataria. Marco and Giuseppe, magnificently dressed, are seated on two thrones, occupied in cleaning the crown and the sceptre. The Gondoliers are discovered, dressed, some as courtiers, officers of rank, etc., and others as private soldiers and servants of various degrees. All are enjoying themselves without reference to social distinctions—some playing cards, others throwing dice, some reading, others playing cup and ball, "morra", etc.
CHORUS OF MEN with MARCO and GIUSEPPE.
Of happiness the very pith In Barataria you may see: A monarchy that's tempered with Republican Equality. This form of government we find The beau ideal of its kind— A despotism strict combined With absolute equality!
MARCO and GIUSEPPE.
Two kings, of undue pride bereft, Who act in perfect unity, Whom you can order right and left With absolute impunity. Who put their subjects at their ease By doing all they can to please! And thus, to earn their bread-and-cheese, Seize every opportunity.
CHORUS. Of happiness the very pith, etc.
MAR. Gentlemen, we are much obliged to you for your expressions of satisfaction and good feeling—I say, we are much obliged to you for your expressions of satisfaction and good feeling. ALL. We heard you. MAR. We are delighted, at any time, to fall in with sentiments so charmingly expressed. ALL. That's all right. GIU. At the same time there is just one little grievance that we should like to ventilate. ALL (angrily). What? GIU. Don't be alarmed—it's not serious. It is arranged that, until it is decided which of us two is the actual King, we are to act as one person. GIORGIO. Exactly. GIU. Now, although we act as one person, we are, in point of fact, two persons. ANNIBALE. Ah, I don't think we can go into that. It is a legal fiction, and legal fictions are solemn things. Situated as we are, we can't recognize two independent responsibilities. GIU. No; but you can recognize two independent appetites. It's all very well to say we act as one person, but when you supply us with only one ration between us, I should describe it as a legal fiction carried a little too far. ANNI. It's rather a nice point. I don't like to express an opinion off-hand. Suppose we reserve it for argument before the full Court? MAR. Yes, but what are we to do in the meantime? MAR. and GIU. We want our tea. ANNI. I think we may make an interim order for double rations on their Majesties entering into the usual undertaking to indemnify in the event of an adverse decision? GIOR. That, I think, will meet the case. But you must work hard—stick to it—nothing like work. GIU. Oh, certainly. We quite understand that a man who holds the magnificent position of King should do something to justify it. We are called "Your Majesty"; we are allowed to buy ourselves magnificent clothes; our subjects frequently nod to us in the streets; the sentries always return our salutes; and we enjoy the inestimable privilege of heading the subscription lists to all the principal charities. In return for these advantages the least we can do is to make ourselves useful about the Palace. SONG—GIUSEPPE with CHORUS.
Rising early in the morning, We proceed to light the fire, Then our Majesty adorning In its workaday attire, We embark without delay On the duties of the day.
First, we polish off some batches Of political despatches, And foreign politicians circumvent; Then, if business isn't heavy, We may hold a Royal levee, Or ratify some Acts of Parliament. Then we probably review the household troops— With the usual "Shalloo humps!" and "Shalloo hoops!" Or receive with ceremonial and state An interesting Eastern potentate. After that we generally Go and dress our private valet— (It's a rather nervous duty—he's a touchy little man)— Write some letters literary For our private secretary— He is shaky in his spelling, so we help him if we can. Then, in view of cravings inner, We go down and order dinner; Then we polish the Regalia and the Coronation Plate— Spend an hour in titivating All our Gentlemen-in-Waiting; Or we run on little errands for the Ministers of State.
Oh, philosophers may sing Of the troubles of a King; Yet the duties are delightful, and the privileges great; But the privilege and pleasure That we treasure beyond measure Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State.
CHORUS. Oh, philosophers may sing, etc.
After luncheon (making merry On a bun and glass of sherry), If we've nothing in particular to do, We may make a Proclamation, Or receive a deputation— Then we possibly create a Peer or two. Then we help a fellow-creature on his path With the Garter or the Thistle or the Bath, Or we dress and toddle off in semi-state To a festival, a function, or a fete. Then we go and stand as sentry At the Palace (private entry), Marching hither, marching thither, up and down and to and fro, While the warrior on duty Goes in search of beer and beauty (And it generally happens that he hasn't far to go). He relieves us, if he's able, Just in time to lay the table, Then we dine and serve the coffee, and at half-past twelve or one, With a pleasure that's emphatic, We retire to our attic With the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!