Part 32

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fitz.: Sir.

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

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

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

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

King: It's English, is it?

Fitz.: It's particularly English.

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

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

DUET — Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe.

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

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

ENSEMBLE

Men Fitz. and Zara (aside)

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

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

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

ENSEMBLE

Men Fitz. and Zara (aside)

A British warrior gives up all, etc. Oh! my hours are gold, And the joys untold, When my eyes behold Ladies My beloved Princess; And the years will seem Knightsbridge nursemaids, etc. But a brief day-dream, In the joy extreme Of our happiness! (Exeunt King and Zara in one direction, Lifeguardsmen and crowd in opposite direction. Enter, at back, Scaphio and Phantis, who watch Zara as she goes off. Scaphio is seated, shaking violently, and obviously under the influence of some strong emotion.)

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

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

Phantis: I knew you would say so!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zara: Sir!

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

Fitz.: Zara, this is very awkward.

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

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

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

Both: The English fashion? What is that?

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

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

Fitz.: Exactly.

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

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

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

Fitz.: Good—then that's settled.

QUARTET Fitzbattleaxe, Zara, Scaphio, and Phantis.

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

ENSEMBLE

Sca. and Phan. Zara and Fitz

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

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

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

ENSEMBLE

Sca. and Phant. Fitz and Zara

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

(Exit Scaphio and Phantis together)

DUET — Zara and Fitzbattleaxe

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

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

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

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

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

(Exit Fitzbattleaxe. Manet Zara.)

(Enter King.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zara: Calls himself English?

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

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

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

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

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

FINALE Enter every one, except the Flowers of Progress.

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

RECITATIVE — King

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

Chorus: Oh, joy unbounded!

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

RECITATIVE — Zara

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

CHORUS

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

Enter all the Flowers of Progress, led by Fitzbattleaxe.

SOLOS — Zara and the Flowers of Progress.

(Presenting Captain Fitzbattleaxe)

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

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

SOLO — Zara.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chorus: Court reputations, etc.

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

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

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

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

SOLO — Zara:

(Presenting Mr. Goldbury)

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

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

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

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

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

SOLO — Captain Corcoran

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

All: What never?

Capt.: No, never!

All: What never?

Capt: Hardly ever!

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

CHORUS

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

QUARTET

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

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

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

Chorus: A company limited? etc.

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

SONG — Mr. Goldbury

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

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

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

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

Chorus: No, nobody can know, etc.

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

Chorus: But the liquidators say, etc.

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

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

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

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

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

All: Ulahlica!

SOLO — King

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

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

Tar.: (correcting them)

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

Sca., Phan.: (angrily)

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

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

Sca., Phan.: (apologetically)

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

ENSEMBLE

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

Henceforward of a verity, If he has the temerity Who love with all sincerity; With fame ourselves we Our wishes thus to blink link— Their lives may safely link.

And go down to Posterity, He'll go up to Posterity And as for our posterity Of sovereigns all pink! Much earlier than they think! We don't care what they think!

CHORUS

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

END OF ACT I

## ACT II

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

RECITATIVE — Fitzbattleaxe.

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

SONG — Fitzbattleaxe.