Part 27

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! And 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? MR. W. 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! MR. W. My lady leave me—this may never be!

DUET—LADY SANGAZURE and MR. WELLS

MR. W. Hate me! I drop my H's—have through life! LADY S. Love me! I'll drop them too! MR. W. Hate me! I always eat peas with a knife! LADY S. Love me! I'll eat like you! MR. W. Hate me! I spend the day at Rosherville! LADY S. Love me! that joy I'll share! MR. W. 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! MR. W. Hate me! that's not enough! LADY S. Love me! I'll come and help you in the shop! MR. W. Hate me! the life is rough! LADY S. Love me! my grammar I will all forswear! MR. W. Hate me! abjure my lot! LADY S. Love me! I'll stick sunflowers in my hair! MR. W. 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! MR. W. 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. MR. W. (aside) A lie! No maiden waits me there! LADY S. (mournfully) She has bright brown hair; MR. W. (aside) A lie! No maiden smiles on me! LADY S. (mournfully) By the sounding sea!

ENSEMBLE

LADY SANGAZURE MR. W.

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 may 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 engage 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, pit 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

MR. W. 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! MR. W. 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 OR

THE GODS GROWN OLD Libretto by William S. Gilbert Music by Arthur S. Sullivan DRAMATIS PERSONAE

GODS

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

THESPIANS

Thespis Sillimon Timidon Tipseion Preposteros Stupidas Sparkeion Nicemis Pretteia Daphne Cymon

## ACT I - Ruined Temple on the Summit of Mount Olympus

## ACT II - The same Scene, with the Ruins Restored

## ACT I

[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.