Part 36
[PHOEBE slyly takes bunch of keys from WILFRED's waistband and hands them to MERYLL, who enters the Tower, unnoticed by WILFRED.
WILFRED Truly, I have seen great resolution give way under my persuasive methods [working with a small thumbscrew]. In the nice regulation of a thumbscrew— in the hundredth part of a single revolution lieth all the difference between stony reticence and a torrent of impulsive unbosoming that the pen can scarcely follow. Ha! ha! I am a mad wag.
PHOEBE [with a grimace] Thou art a most light-hearted and delightful companion, Master Wilfred. Thine anecdotes of the torture-chamber are the prettiest hearing.
WILFRED I'm a pleasant fellow an' I choose. I believe I am the merriest dog that barks. Ah, we might be passing happy together—
PHOEBE Perhaps. I do not know.
WILFRED For thou wouldst make a most tender and loving wife.
PHOEBE Aye, to one whom I really loved. For there is a wealth of love within this little heart— saving up for— I wonder whom? Now, of all the world of men, I wonder whom? To think that he whom I am to wed is now alive and somewhere! Perhaps far away, perhaps close at hand! And I know him not! It seemeth that I am wasting time in not knowing him.
WILFRED Now say that it is I— nay! suppose it for the nonce. Say that we are wed— suppose it only— say that thou art my very bride, and I thy cherry, joyous, bright, frolicsome husband— and that, the day's work being done, and the prisoners stored away for the night, thou and I are alone together— with a long, long evening before us!
PHOEBE [with a grimace] It is a pretty picture— but I scarcely know. It cometh so unexpectedly— and yet—and yet— were I thy bride—
WILFRED Aye!— wert thou my bride—?
PHOEBE Oh, how I would love thee! No. 11. Were I thy bride (SONG) Phoebe
PHOEBE Were I thy bride, Then all the world beside Were not too wide To hold my wealth of love— Were I thy bride!
Upon thy breast My loving head would rest, As on her nest The tender turtle dove— Were I thy bride!
This heart of mine Would be one heart with thine, And in that shrine Our happiness would dwell— Were I thy bride!
And all day long Our lives should be a song: No grief, no wrong Should make my heart rebel— Were I thy bride!
The silvery flute, The melancholy lute, Were night-owl's hoot To my low-whispered coo— Were I thy bride!
The skylark's trill Were but discordance shrill To the soft thrill Of wooing as I'd woo— Were I thy bride!
[MERYLL re-enters; gives keys to PHOEBE, who replaces them at WILFRED's girdle, unnoticed by him. Exit MERYLL.
The rose's sigh Were as a carrion's cry To lullaby Such as I'd sing to thee, Were I thy bride!
A feather's press Were leaden heaviness to my caress. But then, of course, you see, I'm not thy bride.
[Exit PHOEBE
WILFRED No, thou'rt not— not yet! But, Lord, how she woo'd; I should be no mean judge of wooing, seeing that I have been more hotly woo'd than most men. I have been woo'd by maid, widow, and wife. I have been woo'd boldly, timidly, tearfully, shyly— by direct assault, by suggestion, by implication, by inference, and by innuendo. But this wooing is not of the common order; it is the wooing of one who must needs me, if she die for it!
[Exit WILFRED. Enter SERGEANT MERRILL, cautiously, from Tower.
MERYLL [looking after them] The deed is, so far, safely accomplished. The slyboots, how she wheedled him! What a helpless ninny is a love-sick man! He is but as a lute in a woman's hands— she plays upon him whatever tune she will. But the Colonel comes. I' faith, he's just in time, for the Yeomen parade here for his execution in two minutes!
[Enter FAIRFAX, without beard and moustache, and dressed in Yeoman's uniform.
FAIRFAX My good and kind friend, thou runnest a grave risk for me!
MERYLL Tut, sir, no risk. I'll warrant none here will recognise you. You make a brave Yeoman, sir! So— this ruff is too high; so— and the sword should hang thus. Here is your halbert, sir; carry it thus. The Yeomen come. Now, remember, you are my brave son, Leonard Meryll.
FAIRFAX If I may not bear mine own name, there is none other I would bear so readily.
MERYLL Now, sir, put a bold face on it, for they come. No. 12. Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true (FINALE OF ACT I) Ensemble
[Enter YEOMEN of the Guard
YEOMEN Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true— The welcome news we read in orders? Thy son, whose deeds of derring-do Are echoed all the country through, Has come to join the Tower Warders? If so, we come to meet him, That we may fitly greet him, And welcome his arrival here With shout on shout and cheer on cheer, Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
MERYLL Ye Tower warders, nursed in war's alarms, Suckled on gunpowder, and weaned on glory, Behold my son, whose all-subduing arms Have formed the theme of many a song and story! Forgive his aged father's pride; nor jeer His aged father's sympathetic tear! [Pretending to weep]
YEOMEN Leonard Meryll! Leonard Meryll! Dauntless he in time of peril! Man of power, Knighthood's flower, Welcome to the grim old Tower, To the Tower, welcome thou!
FAIRFAX Forbear, my friends, and spare me this ovation, I have small claim to such consideration; The tales that of my prowess are narrated Have been prodigiously exaggerated, prodigiously exaggerated!
YEOMEN 'Tis ever thus! Wherever valor true is found, True modesty will there abound.
1ST YEOMAN Didst thou not, oh, Leonard Meryll! Standard lost in last campaign, Rescue it at deadly peril— Bear it safely back again?
YEOMEN Leonard Meryll, at his peril, Bore it safely back again!
2ND YEOMAN Didst thou not, when prisoner taken, And debarred from all escape, Face, with gallant heart unshaken, Death in most appalling shape?
YEOMEN Leonard Meryll, faced his peril, Death in most appalling shape!
FAIRFAX [aside] Truly I was to be pitied, Having but an hour to live, I reluctantly submitted, I had no alternative!
FAIRFAX [aloud] Oh! the tales that are narrated Of my deeds of derring-do Have been much exaggerated, Very much exaggerated, Scarce a word of them is true! Scarce a word of them is true!
YEOMEN They are not exaggerated, Not at all exaggerated, Could not be exaggerated, Ev'ry word of them is true!
3RD YEOMAN [optional] You, when brought to execution, Like a demigod of yore, With heroic resolution Snatched a sword and killed a score.
YEOMEN [optional] Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll Snatched a sword and killed a score!
4TH YEOMAN [optional] Then escaping from the foemen, Boltered with the blood you shed, You, defiant, fearing no men, Saved your honour and your head!
YEOMEN [optional] Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll Saved his honour and his head.
FAIRFAX [optional] True, my course with judgement shaping, Favoured, too, by lucky star, I succeeded in escaping Prison-bolt and prison bar!
FAIRFAX [optional] Oh! the tales that are narrated Of my deeds of derring-do Have been much exaggerated, Very much exaggerated, Scarce a word of them is true! Scarce a word of them is true!
YEOMEN [optional] They are not exaggerated, Not at all exaggerated, Could not be exaggerated, Ev'ry word of them is true!
[Enter PHOEBE. She rushes to FAIRFAX. Enter WILFRED.
PHOEBE Leonard!
FAIRFAX [puzzled] I beg your pardon?
PHOEBE Don't you know me? I'm little Phoebe!
FAIRFAX [still puzzled] Phoebe? Is this Phoebe? What! little Phoebe? [aside] Who the deuce may she be? It can't be Phoebe, surely?
WILFRED Yes, 'tis Phoebe— Your sister Phoebe! Your own little sister!
YEOMEN Aye, he speaks the truth; 'Tis Phoebe!
FAIRFAX [pretending to recognise her] Sister Phoebe!
PHOEBE Oh, my brother!
FAIRFAX Why, how you've grown! I did not recognize you!
PHOEBE So many years! Oh, brother!
FAIRFAX Oh, my sister!
BOTH Oh, brother!/Oh, sister!
WILFRED Aye, hug him, girl! There are three thou mayst hug— Thy father and thy brother and— myself!
FAIRFAX Thyself, forsooth? And who art thou thyself?
WILFRED Good sir, we are betrothed.
[FAIRFAX turns inquiringly to PHOEBE
PHOEBE Or more or less— But rather less than more!
WILFRED To thy fond care I do commend thy sister. Be to her An ever-watchful guardian— eagle-eyed! And when she feels (as sometimes she does feel) Disposed to indiscriminate caress, Be thou at hand to take those favours from her!
YEOMEN Be thou at hand to take those favours from her!
PHOEBE Yes, yes. Be thou at hand to take those favours from me!
WILFRED To thy fraternal care Thy sister I commend; From every lurking snare Thy lovely charge defend; And to achieve this end, Oh! grant, I pray, this boon— Oh! grant this boon She shall not quit my sight; From morn to afternoon— From afternoon to night— From sev'n o'clock to two— From two to eventide— From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night, From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night She shall not quit my side!
YEOMEN From morn to afternoon— From afternoon to 'lev'n at night She shall not quit thy side!
PHOEBE So amiable I've grown, So innocent as well, That if I'm left alone The consequences fell No mortal can foretell. So grant, I pray, this boon— Oh! grant this boon I shall not quit thy sight: From morn to afternoon— From afternoon to night— From sev'n o'clock to two— From two to eventide— From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night I shall not quit thy side!
YEOMEN From morn to afternoon— From afternoon to 'lev'n at night She shall not quit thy side!
FAIRFAX With brotherly readiness, For my fair sister's sake, At once I answer "Yes"— That task I undertake— My word I never break. I freely grant that boon, And I'll repeat my plight. From morn to afternoon— [kiss] From afternoon to night— [kiss] From sev'n o'clock to two— [kiss] From two to evening meal— [kiss] From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night, From dim twilight to 'lev'n at night, That compact I will seal. [kiss]
YEOMEN From morn to afternoon, From afternoon to 'lev'n at night He freely grants that boon.
[The bell of St. Peter's begins to toll. The CROWD enters; the block is brought on to the stage, and the HEADSMAN takes his place. The YEOMEN of the Guard form up. The LIEUTENANT enters and takes his place, and tells off FAIRFAX and two others to bring the prisoner to execution. WILFRED, FAIRFAX, and TWO YEOMEN exeunt to Tower.
CHORUS The prisoner comes to meet his doom; The block, the headsman, and the tomb. The funeral bell begins to toll; May Heav'n have mercy on his soul! May Heav'n have mercy on his soul!
ELSIE Oh, Mercy, thou whose smile has shone So many a captive heart upon; Of all immured within these walls, To-day the very worthiest falls!
ALL Oh, Mercy, thou whose smile has shone So many a captive heart upon; Of all immured within these walls, The very worthiest falls. Oh, Mercy, Oh, Mercy!
[Enter FAIRFAX and TWO YEOMEN from Tower in great excitement.
FAIRFAX My lord! I know not how to tell The news I bear! I and my comrades sought the pris'ner's cell— He is not there!
ALL He is not there! They sought the pris'ner's cell— he is not there!
FAIRFAX AND TWO YEOMEN As escort for the prisoner We sought his cell, in duty bound; The double gratings open were, No prisoner at all we found!
We hunted high, we hunted low, We hunted here, we hunted there— The man we sought with anxious care Had vanished into empty air! The man we sought with anxious care Had vanished into empty air!
[Exit LIEUTENANT
WOMEN Now, by my troth, the news is fair, The man has vanished into air!
ALL As escort for the prisoner We/they sought his cell in duty bound; The double gratings open were, No prisoner at all we/they found, We/they hunted high, we/they hunted low, We/they hunted here, we/they hunted there, The man we/they sought with anxious care Had vanished into empty air! The man we/they sought with anxious care Had vanished into empty air!
[Enter WILFRED, followed by LIEUTENANT
LIEUT. Astounding news! The pris'ner fled! [To WILFRED] Thy life shall forfeit be instead!
[WILFRED is arrested
WILFRED My lord, I did not set him free, I hate the man— my rival he!
MERYLL The pris'ner gone— I'm all agape!
LIEUT. Thy life shall forfeit be instead!
MERYLL Who could have helped him to escape?
WILFRED My lord, I did not set him free!
PHOEBE Indeed I can't imagine who! I've no idea at all, have you?
[Enter JACK POINT
DAME Of his escape no traces lurk, Enchantment must have been at work!
ELSIE [aside to POINT] What have I done? Oh, woe is me!
PHOEBE & DAME Indeed I can't imagine who! I've no idea at all, have you?
ELSIE I am his wife, and he is free!
POINT Oh, woe is you? Your anguish sink! Oh, woe is me, I rather think! Oh, woe is me, I rather think! Yes, woe is me, I rather think! Whate'er betide You are his bride, And I am left Alone— bereft! Yes, woe is me, I rather think! Yes, woe is me, I rather think! Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me, Yes, woe is me, I rather think!
ENSEMBLE All frenzied with despair I/they rave, The grave is cheated of its due. Who is, who is the misbegotten knave Who hath contrived this deed to do?
Let search, let search Be made throughout the land, Or his/my vindictive anger dread— A thousand marks, a thousand marks he'll/I'll hand Who brings him here, alive or dead, Who brings him here, alive or dead! A thousand marks, a thousand marks, Alive, alive or dead Alive, alive or dead Who brings him here, alive, alive, or dead.
[At the end, ELSIE faints in FAIRFAX's arms; all the YEOMEN and CROWD rush off the stage in different directions, to hunt for the fugitive, leaving only the HEADSMAN on the stage, and ELSIE insensible in FAIRFAX's arms.
END OF ACT I
## ACT II
[SCENE.— The same— Moonlight.]
[Two days have elapsed.]
[WOMEN and YEOMEN of the Guard discovered. No. 13. Night has spread her pall once more (CHORUS AND SOLO) People, Yeomen, and Dame Carruthers
CHORUS Night has spread her pall once more, And the pris'ner still is free: Open is his dungeon door, Useless now his dungeon key. He has shaken off his yoke— How, no mortal man can tell! Shame on loutish jailor-folk— Shame on sleepy sentinel!
[Enter DAME CARRUTHERS and KATE
DAME Warders are ye? Whom do ye ward? Warders are ye? Whom do ye ward? Bolt, bar, and key, Shackle and cord, Fetter and chain, Dungeon and stone, All are in vain— Prisoner's flown! Spite of ye all, he is free— he is free! Whom do ye ward? Pretty warders are ye!
WOMEN Pretty warders are ye! Whom do ye ward? Spite of ye all, he is free— he is free! Whom do ye ward? Pretty warders are ye!
MEN Up and down, and in and out, Here and there, and round about; Ev'ry chamber, ev'ry house, Ev'ry chink that holds a mouse, Ev'ry crevice in the keep, Where a beetle black could creep, Ev'ry outlet, ev'ry drain, Have we searched, but all in vain, all in vain.
WOMEN Warders are ye? Whom do ye ward?
MEN Ev'ry house, ev'ry chink, ev'ry drain,
WOMEN Warders are ye? Whom do ye ward?
MEN Ev'ry chamber, ev'ry outlet, Have we searched, but all in vain.
WOMEN Night has spread her pall once more, And the pris'ner still is free:
MEN Warders are we? Whom do we ward? Whom do we ward? Warders are we? Whom do we ward? Whom do we ward?
WOMEN Open is his dungeon door, Useless his dungeon key!
ALL Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!
MEN Pretty warders are we, he is free! Spite of us all, he is free, he is free!
WOMEN Open is his dungeon door,
MEN Spite of us all, he is free, he is free! Pretty warders are we, he is free! He is free!
WOMEN He is free! He is free! Pretty warders are ye,
ALL He is free! He is free! Pretty warders are ye/we!
[Exeunt all.
[Enter JACK POINT, in low spirits, reading from a huge volume
POINT [reads] "The Merrie Jestes of Hugh Ambrose, No. 7863.The Poor Wit and the Rich Councillor. A certayne poor wit, being an-hungered, did meet a well-fed councillor.'Marry, fool,' quothe the councillor, 'whither away?' 'In truth,' said the poor wag, 'in that I have eaten naught these two dayes, I do wither away, and that right rapidly!' The Councillor laughed hugely, and gave him a sausage." Humph! the councillor was easier to please than my new master the Lieutenant. I would like to take post under that councillor. Ah! 'tis but melancholy mumming when poor heart-broken, jilted Jack Point must needs turn to Hugh Ambrose for original light humour!
[Enter WILFRED, also in low spirits.
WILFRED [sighing] Ah, Master Point!
POINT [changing his manner] Ha! friend jailer! Jailer that wast— jailer that never shalt be more! Jailer that jailed not, or that jailed, if jail he did, so unjailery that 'twas but jerry-jailing, or jailing in joke— though no joke to him who, by unjailerlike jailing, did so jeopardise his jailership. Come, take heart, smile, laugh, wink, twinkle, thou tormentor that tormentest none— thou racker that rackest not— thou pincher out of place— come, take heart, and be merry, as I am!— [aside, dolefully]— as I am!
WILFRED Aye, it's well for thee to laugh. Thou hast a good post, and hast cause to be merry.
POINT [bitterly] Cause? Have we not all cause? Is not the world a big butt of humour, into which all who will may drive a gimlet? See, I am a salaried wit; and is there aught in nature more ridiculous? A poor, dull, heart-broken man, who must needs be merry, or he will be whipped; who must rejoice, lest he starve; who must jest you, jibe you, quip you, crank you, wrack you, riddle you, from hour to hour, from day to day, from year to year, lest he dwindle, perish, starve, pine,and die! Why, when there's naught else to laugh at, I laugh at myself till I ache for it!
WILFRED Yet I have often thought that a jester's calling would suit me to a hair.
POINT Thee? Would suit thee, thou death's head and cross- bones?
WILFRED Aye, I have a pretty wit— a light, airy, joysome wit, spiced with anecdotes of prison cells and the torture chamber. Oh, a very delicate wit! I have tried it on many a prisoner, and there have been some who smiled. Now it is not easy to make a prisoner smile. And it should not be difficult to be a good jester, seeing that thou are one.
POINT Difficult? Nothing easier. Nothing easier. Attend, and I will prove it to thee!
No. 14. Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon (SONG) Point
POINT Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon, If you listen to popular rumour; From morning to night he's so joyous and bright, And he bubbles with wit and good humour! He's so quaint and so terse, Both in prose and in verse; Yet though people forgive his transgression, There are one or two rules that all family fools Must observe, if they love their profession. There are one or two rules, Half-a-dozen, maybe, That all family fools, Of whatever degree, Must observe if they love their profession.
If you wish to succeed as a jester, you'll need To consider each person's auricular: What is all right for B would quite scandalize C (For C is so very particular); And D may be dull, and E's very thick skull Is as empty of brains as a ladle; While F is F sharp, and will cry with a carp, That he's known your best joke from his cradle! When your humour they flout, You can't let yourself go; And it does put you out When a person says, "Oh! I have known that old joke from my cradle!"
If your master is surly, from getting up early (And tempers are short in the morning), An inopportune joke is enough to provoke Him to give you, at once, a month's warning. Then if you refrain, he is at you again, For he likes to get value for money: He'll ask then and there, with an insolent stare, "If you know that you're paid to be funny?" It adds to the tasks Of a merryman's place, When your principal asks, With a scowl on his face, If you know that you're paid to be funny?
Comes a Bishop, maybe, or a solemn D.D.— Oh, beware of his anger provoking! Better not pull his hair— Don't stick pins in his chair; He won't understand practical joking. If the jests that you crack have an orthodox smack, You may get a bland smile from these sages; But should it, by chance, be imported from France, Half-a-crown is stopped out of your wages! It's a general rule, Tho' your zeal it may quench, If the Family Fool Makes a joke that's too French, Half-a-crown is stopped out of his wages!
Though your head it may rack with a bilious attack, And your senses with toothache you're losing, And you're mopy and flat— they don't fine you for that If you're properly quaint and amusing! Though your wife ran away with a soldier that day, And took with her your trifle of money; Bless your heart, they don't mind— they're exceedingly kind— They don't blame you—as long as you're funny! It's a comfort to feel If your partner should flit, Though you suffer a deal, They don't mind it a bit— They don't blame you—so long as you're funny!
POINT And so thou wouldst be a jester eh?
WILFRED Aye!
POINT Now, listen! My sweetheart, Elsie Maynard, was secretly wed to this Fairfax half an hour ere he escaped.
WILFRED She did well.
POINT She did nothing of the kind, so hold thy peace and perpend. Now, while he liveth she is dead to me and I to her, and so, my jibes and jokes notwithstanding, I am the saddest and the sorriest dog in England!
WILFRED Thou art a very dull dog indeed.
POINT Now, if thou wilt swear that thou didst shoot this Fairfax while he was trying to swim across the river— it needs but the discharge of an arquebus on a dark night— and that he sank and was seen no more, I'll make thee the very Archbishop of jesters, and that in two days'time! Now, what sayest thou?
WILFRED I am to lie?
POINT Heartily. But thy lie must be a lie of circumstance, which I will support with the testimony of eyes, ears,and tongue.
WILFRED And thou wilt qualify me as a jester?
POINT As a jester among jesters. I will teach thee all my original songs, my self-constructed riddles, my own ingenious paradoxes; nay, more, I will reveal to thee the source whence I get them. Now, what sayest thou?
WILFRED Why, if it be but a lie thou wantest of me, I hold it cheap enough, and I say yes, it is a bargain!
No. 15. Hereupon we're both agreed (DUET) Point and Wilfred