PATIENCE
or:
Bunthorne's Bride
Book by W.S. GILBERT
Music by ARTHUR SULLIVAN
First produced at the Opera Comique, London,
on April 23, 1881.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
Officers of Dragoon Guards
COLONEL CALVERLEY, Baritone
MAJOR MURGATROYD, Baritone
LIEUT. THE DUKE OF DUNSTABLE, Tenor
REGINALD BUNTHORNE (A Fleshly Poet), Light Baritone
ARCHIBALD GROSVENOR (An Idyllic Poet), Baritone
MR. BUNTHORNE'S SOLICITOR Non-singing
Rapturous Maidens:
THE LADY ANGELA, Mezzo-Soprano
THE LADY SAPHIR, Mezzo-Soprano
THE LADY ELLA, Soprano
THE LADY JANE, Contralto
PATIENCE (A Dairy Maid), Soprano
Chorus of Rapturous MAIDENS and Officers of DRAGOON GUARDS
ACT I
ACT II
ACT I
(Scene: Exterior of Castle Bunthorne, the gateway to which is seen,
R.U.E., and is approached by a drawbridge over a moat.
A rocky eminence R. with steps down to the stage.
In front of it, a rustic bench, on which ANGELA is seated,
with ELLA on her left. Young Ladies wearing aesthetic draperies are
grouped about the stage from R. to L.C., SAPHIR being near
the L. end of the group. The Ladies play on lutes, etc.,
as they sing, and all are in the last stage of despair.)
No. 1. Twenty love-sick maidens we
(Opening Chorus and Solos)
Maidens, Angela, and Ella
MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
And we die for love of thee!
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
ANGELA
Love feeds on hope, they say, or love will die;
MAIDENS
Ah, miserie!
ANGELA
Yet my love lives, although no hope have I!
MAIDENS
Ah, miserie!
ANGELA
Alas, poor heart, go hide thyself away,
To weeping concords tune thy roundelay!
Ah, miserie!
MAIDENS
All our love is all for one,
Yet that love he heedeth not,
He is coy and cares for none,
Sad and sorry is our lot!
Ah, miserie!
ELLA
Go, breaking heart,
Go, dream of love requited!
Go, foolish heart,
Go, dream of lovers plighted;
Go, madcap heart,
Go, dream of never waking;
And in thy dream
Forget that thou art breaking!
MAIDENS
Ah, miserie!
ELLA
Forget that thou art breaking!
MAIDENS
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still.
Ah, miserie!
ANGELA
There is a strange magic in this love of ours!
Rivals as we all are in the affections of our Reginald,
the very hopelessness of our love is a bond
that binds us to one another!
SAPHIR
Jealousy is merged in misery.
While he, the very cynosure
of our eyes and hearts, remains icy insensible –
what have we to strive for?
ELLA
The love of maidens is, to him, as interesting as the taxes!
SAPHIR
Would that it were! He pays his taxes.
ANGELA
And cherishes the receipts!
(Enter LADY JANE, L.U.E.)
SAPHIR
Happy receipts!
(All sigh heavily)
JANE
(L.C., suddenly)
Fools!
(They start, and turn to her)
ANGELA
I beg your pardon?
JANE
Fools and blind! The man loves - wildly loves!
ANGELA
But whom? None of us!
JANE
No, none of us. His weird fancy has lighted, for the
nonce, on Patience, the village milkmaid!
SAPHIR
On Patience? Oh, it cannot be!
JANE
Bah! But yesterday I caught him in her dairy, eating fresh
butter with a tablespoon. Today he is not well!
SAPHIR
But Patience boasts that she has never loved - that love
is, to her, a sealed book! Oh, he cannot be serious!
JANE
`Tis but a fleeting fancy - `twill quickly wear away.
(aside, coming down-stage)
Oh, Reginald, if you but knew what a wealth
of golden love is waiting for you, stored up in this
rugged old bosom of mine, the milkmaid's triumph
would be short indeed!
(PATIENCE appears on an eminence, R.
She looks down with pity on the despondent Ladies.)
No. 2. Still brooding on their mad infatuation!
(Recitative)
Patience, Saphir, Angela, and Maidens
PATIENCE
Still brooding on their mad infatuation!
I thank thee, Love, thou comest not to me!
Far happier I, free from thy ministration,
Than dukes or duchesses who love can be!
SAPHIR
(looking up)
`Tis Patience - happy girl! Loved by a poet!
PATIENCE
Your pardon, ladies.
I intrude upon you!
(Going)
ANGELA
Nay, pretty child, come hither.
(PATIENCE descends.)
Is it true that you have never loved?
PATIENCE
Most true indeed.
SOPRANOS
Most marvelous!
ALTOS
And most deplorable!
I cannot tell what this love may be
(Solo)
Patience
PATIENCE
I cannot tell what this love may be
(L.C.)
That cometh to all but not to me.
It cannot be kind as they'd imply,
Or why do these ladies sigh?
It cannot be joy and rapture deep,
Or why do these gentle ladies weep?
It cannot be blissful as `tis said,
Or why are their eyes so wondrous red?
Though ev'rywhere true love I see
A-coming to all, but not to me,
I cannot tell what this love may be!
For I am blithe and I am gay,
While they sit sighing night and day.
ALL
For I am blithe and I am gay,
gay,
Think of the gulf `twixt
them and me,
Think of the gulf `twixt them,
and me,
Fal la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
la la la la la la la la la la la la,
and miserie!
(She dances across R. and back to R.C.)
PATIENCE
If love is a thorn, they show no wit
Who foolishly hug and foster it.
If love is a weed, how simple they
Who gather it, day by day!
If love is a nettle that makes you smart,
Then why do you wear it next your heart?
And if it be none of these, say I,
Ah, why do you sit and sob and sigh?
Though ev'rywhere true love I see
A-coming to all, but not to me,
I cannot tell what this love may be!
For I am blithe and I am gay,
While they sit sighing night and day.
ALL
For I am blithe and I
am gay,
Think of the gulf `twixt
them and me,
Think of the gulf `twixt
them and me,
Fal la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
la la la la la la la la la la la la,
and miserie!
ANGELA
Ah, Patience, if you have never loved, you have never
known true happiness!
(All sigh.)
PATIENCE
(C.)
But the truly happy always seem to have so much on
their minds. The truly happy never seem quite well.
JANE
(coming L.C.)
There is a transcendentality of delirium -
an acute accentuation of supremest ecstasy - which the earthy
might easily mistake for indigestion. But it is not indigestion
- it is aesthetic transfiguration!
(to the others.)
Enough of babble. Come!
PATIENCE
(stopping her as she turns to go up C.)
But stay, I have some news for you.
The 35th Dragoon Guards have halted in the village,
and are even now on their way to this very spot.
ANGELA
The 35th Dragoon Guards!
SAPHIR
They are fleshly men, of full habit!
ELLA
We care nothing for Dragoon Guards!
PATIENCE
But, bless me, you were all engaged to them a year ago!
SAPHIR
A year ago!
ANGELA
My poor child, you don't understand these things. A year
ago they were very well in our eyes, but since then our tastes
have been etherealized, our perceptions exalted.
(to the others)
Come, it is time to lift up our voices in morning carol to our
Reginald. Let us to his door!
(ANGELA leading, the Ladies go off, two and two, Jane last,
over the drawbridge into the castle, singing refrain
of "Twenty love-sick maidens", and, as before,
accompanying themselves on harps, etc.)
No. 2a. Twenty love-sick maidens we
(Chorus)
Maidens
MAIDENS
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
Ah, miserie!
(PATIENCE watches them in surprise, and, with a gesture of
complete bafflement, climbs the rock and goes off the way she entered.)
(The officers of the DRAGOON GUARDS enter, R., led by the MAJOR.
They form their line across the front of the stage.)
No. 3. The soldiers of our Queen
(Chorus and Solo)
Dragoons and Colonel
DRAGOONS
The soldiers of our Queen
Are linked in friendly tether;
Upon the battle scene
They fight the foe together.
There ev'ry mother's son
Prepared to fight and fall is;
The enemy of one
The enemy of all is!
The enemy of one
The enemy of all is!
(On an order from the MAJOR they fall back.)
(Enter the COLONEL. All salute.)
COLONEL
If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
(C.)
Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
DRAGOONS
(saluting)
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL
Take all the remarkable people in history,
Rattle them off to a popular tune.
DRAGOONS
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL
The pluck of Lord Nelson on board of the Victory-
Genius of Bismarck devising a plan-
The humour of Fielding (which sounds contradictory)-
Coolness of Paget about to trepan-
The science of Jullien, the eminent musico-
Wit of Macaulay, who wrote of Queen Anne-
The pathos of Paddy, as rendered by Boucicault-
Style of the Bishop of Sodor and Man-
The dash of a D'Orsay, divested of quackery-
Narrative powers of Dickens and Thackeray-
Victor Emmanuel - peak-haunting Peveril-
Thomas Aquinas, and Doctor Sacheverell-
Tupper and Tennyson - Daniel Defoe-
Anthony Trollope and Mister Guizot! Ah!
DRAGOONS
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL AND DRAGOONS
Take of these elements all
that is fusible
Melt them all down in a
pipkin or crucible-
Set them to simmer,
and take off the scum,
And a Heavy Dragoon
is the residuum!
COLONEL
If you want a receipt for this soldier-like paragon,
Get at the wealth of the Czar (if you can)-
The family pride of a Spaniard from Aragon-
Force of Mephisto pronouncing a ban-
A smack of Lord Waterford, reckless and rollicky-
Swagger of Roderick, heading his clan-
The keen penetration of Paddington Pollaky-
Grace of an Odalisque on a divan-
The genius strategic of Caesar or Hannibal-
Skill of Sir Garnet in thrashing a cannibal-
Flavour of Hamlet - the Stranger, a touch of him-
Little of Manfred (but not very much of him)-
Beadle of Burlington - Richardson's show-
Mister Micawber and Madame Tussaud! Ah!
DRAGOONS
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
COLONEL and DRAGOONS
Take of these elements all
that is fusible
Melt them all down in a
pipkin or crucible-
Set them to simmer,
and take off the scum,
And a Heavy Dragoon
is the residuum!
COLONEL
Well, here we are once more on the scene
of our former triumphs. But where's the Duke?
(Enter DUKE, listlessly, and in low spirits.)
DUKE
Here I am!
(Sighs.)
COLONEL
Come, cheer up, don't give way!
DUKE
Oh, for that, I'm as cheerful as a poor devil can be
expected to be who has the misfortune to be a Duke,
with a thousand a day!
MAJOR
Humph! Most men would envy you!
DUKE
Envy me? Tell me, Major, are you fond of toffee?
MAJOR
Very!
COLONEL
We are all fond of toffee.
ALL
We are!
DUKE
Yes, and toffee in moderation is a capital thing. But to
live on toffee - toffee for breakfast, toffee for dinner, toffee
for tea - to have it supposed that you care for nothing but
toffee, and that you would consider yourself insulted if anything
but toffee were offered to you - how would you like that?
COLONEL
I can quite believe that, under those circumstances,
even toffee would become monotonous.
DUKE
For "toffee" read flattery, adulation, and abject
deference, carried to such a pitch that I began, at last, to
think that man was born bent at an angle of forty-five degrees!
Great heavens, what is there to adulate in me? Am I particularly
intelligent, or remarkably studious, or excruciatingly witty, or
unusually accomplished, or exceptionally virtuous?
COLONEL
You're about as commonplace a young man as ever I saw.
ALL
You are!
DUKE
Exactly! That's it exactly! That describes me to a T!
Thank you all very much!
(Shakes hands with the Colonel)
Well, I couldn't stand it any longer, so I joined this second-class
cavalry regiment. In the army, thought I, I shall be
occasionally snubbed, perhaps even bullied, who knows?
The thought was rapture, and here I am.
COLONEL
(looking off)
Yes, and here are the ladies!
DUKE
But who is the gentleman with the long hair?
COLONEL
I don't know.
DUKE
He seems popular!
COLONEL
He does seem popular!
(The DRAGOONS back up R., watching the entrance of the Ladies.
BUNTHORNE enters, L.U.E., followed by the Ladies, two and two,
playing on harps as before. He is composing a poem,
and is quite absorbed. He sees no one, but walks across the stage,
followed by the Ladies, who take no notice of the DRAGOONS
- to the surprise and indignation of those officers.)
(Bunthorne, the Ladies following, comes slowly down L.
and then crosses the stage to R.)
No. 4. In a doleful train
(Chorus and Solos)
Maidens, Ella, Angela, Saphir, Dragoons, and Bunthorne
MAIDENS In a doleful train
Two and two we walk all day-
For we love in vain!
None so sorrowful as they
Who can only sigh and say,
Woe is me, alackaday!
Woe is me, alackaday!
DRAGOONS
Now is not this ridiculous, and is not this preposterous?
A thorough-paced absurdity - explain it if you can.
Instead of rushing eagerly to cherish us and foster us,
They all prefer this melancholy literary man.
Instead of slyly peering at us,
Casting looks endearing at us,
Blushing at us, flushing at us, flirting with a fan;
They're actually sneering at us, fleering at us,
jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for a military man!
They're actually sneering at us, fleering at us,
jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for a military man!
(Bunthorne, C.)
ANGELA
(R. of BUNTHORNE)
Mystic poet, hear our prayer,
Twenty love-sick maidens we-
Young and wealthy, dark and fair,
All of county family.
And we die for love of thee-
Twenty love-sick maidens we!
MAIDENS
Yes, we die for love of thee-
Twenty love-sick maidens we!
BUNTHORNE
(crossing to L.)
Though my book I seem to scan
In a rapt ecstatic way,
Like a literary man
Who despises female clay,
I hear plainly all they say,
Twenty love-sick maidens they!
(BUNTHORNE crosses to C.)
DRAGOONS
(to each other)
He hears plainly all they say,
Twenty love-sick maidens they!
SAPHIR
(L. of BUNTHORNE)
Though so excellently wise,
For a moment mortal be,
Deign to raise thy purple eyes
From thy heart-drawn poesy.
Twenty lovesick maidens see-
Each is kneeling on her knee!
(All kneel.)
MAIDENS
Twenty love-sick maidens see-
Each is kneeling on her knee!
BUNTHORNE
(going R.)
Though, as I remarked before,
Any one convinced would be
That some transcendental lore
Is monopolizing me,
Round the corner I can see
Each is kneeling on her knee!
DRAGOONS
Round the corner he can see
Each is kneeling on her knee!
Now is not this ridiculous,
and is not this preposterous?
A thorough-paced absurdity - ridiculous!
preposterous!
Explain it if you can.
MAIDENS and DRAGOONS
In a doleful train
Two and two we walk all day,
A thorough-paced absurdity-
None so sorrowful as they
For we love in vain!
None so sorrowful as they
They all prefer this
melancholy literary man.
Who can only sigh and say,
Casting looks endearing at us,
Blushing at us, flushing at us,
Flirting with a fan;
Woe is me, alackaday!
fleering at us, jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for
a military man!
Woe is me, alackaday!
fleering at us, jeering at us!
Pretty sort of treatment for
a military man!
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
and is not this preposterous?
They all prefer this melancholy
literary man.
And we die for love of thee!
and is not this preposterous?
They all prefer this melancholy,
Yes, we die for love of thee!
Now is not this ridiculous,
and is not this preposterous?
COLONEL
(R.C.)
Angela! what is the meaning of this?
ANGELA (C.)
Oh, sir, leave us; our minds are
but ill-tuned to light love-talk.
MAJOR (L.C.)
But what in the world has come over you all?
JANE (L.C.)
Bunthorne! He has come over us.
He has come among us, and he has idealized us.
DUKE
Has he succeeded in idealizing you?
JANE
He has!
DUKE
Good old Bunthorne!
JANE
My eyes are open; I droop despairingly; I am soulfully
intense; I am limp and I cling!
(During this BUNTHORNE is seen in all the agonies of composition.
The Ladies are watching him intently as he writhes.
At last he hits on the word he wants and writes it down.
A general sense of relief.)
BUNTHORN
Finished! At last! Finished!
(He staggers, overcome with the mental strain,
into the arms of the COLONEL.)
COLONEL
Are you better now?
BUNTHORN
Yes - oh, it's you! - I am better now. The poem is
finished, and my soul has gone out into it. That was all.
It was nothing worth mentioning, it occurs three times a day.
(Sees PATIENCE, who has entered during this scene.)
Ah, Patience! Dear Patience!
(Holds her hand; she seems frightened.)
ANGELA
Will it please you read it to us, sir?
SAPHIR
This we supplicate.
(All kneel.)
BUNTHORN
Shall I?
DRAGOONS
No!
BUNTHORN
(annoyed - to PATIENCE)
I will read it if you bid me!
PATIENCE
(much frightened)
You can if you like!
BUNTHORN
It is a wild, weird, fleshy thing; yet very tender, very
yearning, very precious. It is called,
"Oh, Hollow! Hollow! Hollow!"
PATIENCE
Is it a hunting song?
BUNTHORN
A hunting song? No, it is not a hunting song. It is the
wail of the poet's heart on discovering that everything is
commonplace. To understand it, cling passionately to one another
and think of faint lilies.
(They do so as he recites)
"OH, HOLLOW! HOLLOW! HOLLOW!"
What time the poet hath hymned
The writhing maid, lithe-limbed,
Quivering on amaranthine asphodel,
How can he paint her woes,
Knowing, as well he knows,
That all can be set right with calomel?
When from the poet's plinth
The amorous colocynth
Yearns for the aloe, faint with rapturous thrills,
How can he hymn their throes
Knowing, as well he knows,
That they are only uncompounded pills?
Is it, and can it be,
Nature hath this decree,
Nothing poetic in the world shall dwell?
Or that in all her works
Something poetic lurks,
Even in colocynth and calomel?
I cannot tell.
(He goes off, L.U.E. All turn and watch him,
not speaking until he has gone.)
ANGELA
How purely fragrant!
SAPHIR
How earnestly precious!
PATIENCE
Well, it seems to me to be nonsense.
SAPHIR
Nonsense, yes, perhaps - but oh, what precious nonsense!
COLONEL
This is all very well, but you seem to forget
that you are engaged to us.
SAPHIR
It can never be. You are not Empyrean. You are not Della Cruscan.
You are not even Early English. Oh, be Early English ere it is too late!
(Officers look at each other in astonishment.)
JANE
(looking at uniform)
Red and Yellow! Primary colors!
Oh, South Kensington!
DUKE
We didn't design our uniforms, but we don't see
how they could be improved!
JANE
No, you wouldn't. Still, there is a cobwebby grey velvet,
with a tender bloom like cold gravy, which, made Florentine
fourteenth century, trimmed with Venetian leather and Spanish
altar lace, and surmounted with something Japanese - it matters
not what - would at least be Early English! Come, maidens.
(Exeunt Maidens, L.U.E., two and two, singing refrain of "Twenty
love-sick maidens we". PATIENCE goes off L.
The Officers watch the Ladies go off in astonishment.)
No. 4a. Twenty love-sick maidens we
(Chorus)
Maidens
(As the MAIDENS depart, the DRAGOONS spread across the stage.)
MAIDENS
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still!
Ah, miserie!
DUKE
Gentlemen, this is an insult to the British uniform.
COLONEL
A uniform that has been as successful in the courts of
Venus as on the field of Mars!
No. 5. When I first put this uniform on
(Solo and Chorus)
Colonel and Dragoons
(The DRAGOONS form their original line.)
Song - COLONEL
When I first put this uniform on,
I said, as I looked in the glass,
"It's one to a million
That any civilian
My figure and form will surpass.
Gold lace has a charm for the fair,
And I've plenty of that, and to spare,
While a lover's professions,
When uttered in Hessians,
Are eloquent ev'rywhere!"
A fact that I counted upon,
When I first put this uniform on!
Chorus of DRAGOONS
By a simple coincidence, few
Could ever have counted upon,
The same thing occurred to me,
When I first put this uniform on!
COLONEL
I said, when I first put it on,
"It is plain to the veriest dunce,
That every beauty
Will feel it her duty
To yield to its glamour at once.
They will see that I'm freely gold-laced
In a uniform handsome and chaste"-
But the peripatetics
Of long-haired aesthetics
Are very much more to their taste-
Which I never counted upon,
When I first put this uniform on!
CHORUS
By a simple coincidence, few
Could ever have reckoned upon,
I didn't anticipate that,
When I first put this uniform on!
(The DRAGOONS go off angrily, R.)
(Enter BUNTHORNE, L.U.E., who changes his manner
and becomes intensely melodramatic.)
No. 6. Am I alone and unobserved?
(Recitative and Solo)
Bunthorne
BUNTHORN
(Up-stage, he looks off L. and R.)
Am I alone,
And unobserved? I am!
(comes down)
Then let me own
I'm an aesthetic sham!
(and walks tragically to down-stage, C.)
This air severe
Is but a mere
Veneer!
This cynic smile
Is but a wile
Of guile!
This costume chaste
Is but good taste
Misplaced!
Let me confess!
A languid love for Lilies does not blight me!
Lank limbs and haggard cheeks do not delight me!
I do not care for dirty greens
By any means.
I do not long for all one sees
That's Japanese.
I am not fond of uttering platitudes
In stained-glass attitudes.
In short, my mediaevalism's affectation,
Born of a morbid love of admiration!
(Tiptoes up-stage, looking L. and R., and comes back down, C.)
If you're anxious for to shine
in the high aesthetic line
as a man of culture rare,
You must get up all the germs
of the transcendental terms,
and plant them ev'rywhere.
You must lie upon the daisies
and discourse in novel phrases
of your complicated state of mind,
The meaning doesn't matter if it's only idle chatter
of a transcendental kind.
And ev'ry one will say,
As you walk your mystic way,
"If this young man expresses himself
in terms too deep for me,
Why, what a very singularly deep young man
this deep young man must be!"
Be eloquent in praise of the very dull old days
which have long since passed away,
And convince 'em, if you can, that the reign
of good Queen Anne was Culture's palmiest day.
Of course you will pooh-pooh whatever's fresh and new,
and declare it's crude and mean,
For Art stopped short in the cultivated court
of the Empress Josephine.
And ev'ryone will say,
As you walk your mystic way,
"If that's not good enough for him
which is good enough for me,
Why, what a very cultivated kind
of youth this kind of youth must be!"
Then a sentimental passion of a vegetable fashion
must excite your languid spleen,
An attachment a la Plato for a bashful young potato,
or a not- too-French French bean!
Though the Philistines may jostle, you will rank
as an apostle in the high aesthetic band,
If you walk down Piccadilly with a poppy
or a lily in your medieval hand.
And ev'ryone will say,
As you walk your flow'ry way,
"If he's content with a vegetable love
which would certainly not suit me,
Why, what a most particularly pure young man
this pure young man must be!"
(At the end of his song, PATIENCE enters, L. He sees her.)
BUNTHORN
Ah! Patience, come hither.
(She comes to him timidly.)
I am pleased with thee. The bitter-hearted one,
who finds all else hollow, is pleased with thee.
For you are not hollow. Are you?
PATIENCE
No, thanks, I have dined; but - I beg your pardon
– I interrupt you.
(Turns to go; he stops her.)
BUNTHORN
Life is made up of interruptions. The tortured soul,
yearning for solitude, writhes under them.
Oh, but my heart is a-weary! Oh, I am a cursed thing!
(She attempts to escape.)
Don't go.
PATIENCE
Really, I'm very sorry.
BUNTHORN
Tell me, girl, do you ever yearn?
PATIENCE
I earn my living.
BUNTHORN
(impatiently)
No, no! Do you know what it is to be heart-
hungry? Do you know what it is to yearn for the Indefinable,
and yet to be brought face to face, daily, with the Multiplication Table?
Do you know what it is to seek oceans and to find puddles?
That's my case. Oh, I am a cursed thing!
(She turns again.)
Don't go.
PATIENCE
If you please, I don't understand you - you frighten me!
BUNTHORN
Don't be frightened - it's only poetry.
PATIENCE
Well, if that's poetry, I don't like poetry.
BUNTHORN
(eagerly)
Don't you?
(aside)
Can I trust her?
(aloud)
Patience, you don't like poetry - well, between you and me,
I don't like poetry. It's hollow, unsubstantial - unsatisfactory.
What's the use of yearning for Elysian Fields when you know you
can't get `em, and would only let `em out on building leases
if you had `em?
PATIENCE
Sir, I-
BUNTHORN
Patience, I have long loved you. Let me tell you a secret.
I am not as bilious as I look. If you like, I will cut my hair.
There is more innocent fun within me than a casual spectator
would imagine. You have never seen me frolicsome. Be a good
girl - a very good girl - and one day you shall. If you are
fond of touch-and-go jocularity - this is the shop for it.
PATIENCE
Sir, I will speak plainly. In the matter of love I am
untaught. I have never loved but my great-aunt. But I am quite
certain that, under any circumstances, I couldn't possibly love you.
BUNTHORN
Oh, you think not?
PATIENCE
I'm quite sure of it. Quite sure. Quite.
BUNTHORN
Very good. Life is henceforth a blank. I don't care what
becomes of me. I have only to ask that you will not abuse my
confidence; though you despise me, I am extremely popular
with the other young ladies.
PATIENCE
I only ask that you will leave me
and never renew the subject.
BUNTHORN
Certainly. Broken-hearted and desolate, I go.
(Goes up-stage, suddenly turns and recites.)
"Oh, to be wafted away,
From this black Aceldama of sorrow,
Where the dust of an earthy to-day
Is the earth of a dusty to-morrow!"
It is a little thing of my own. I call it "Heart Foam".
I shall not publish it. Farewell!
Patience, Patience, farewell!
(Exit BUNTHORNE.)
PATIENCE
What on earth does it all mean?
Why does he love me?
Why does he expect me to love him?
(going R.)
He's not a relation! It frightens me!
(Enter ANGELA, L.)
ANGELA
Why, Patience, what is the matter?
PATIENCE
Lady Angela, tell me two things. Firstly, what on
earth is this love that upsets everybody; and, secondly,
how is it to be distinguished from insanity?
ANGELA
Poor blind child! Oh, forgive her, Eros!
Why, love is of all passions the most essential!
It is the embodiment of purity, the abstraction of refinement!
It is the one unselfish emotion in this whirlpool of grasping greed!
PATIENCE
Oh, dear, oh!
(beginning to cry)
ANGELA
Why are you crying?
PATIENCE
To think that I have lived all these years without
having experienced this ennobling and unselfish passion!
Why, what a wicked girl I must be!
For it is unselfish, isn't it?
ANGELA
Absolutely! Love that is tainted with selfishness is no love.
Oh, try, try, try to love! It really isn't difficult
if you give your whole mind to it.
PATIENCE
I'll set about it at once. I won't go to bed until I'm
head over ears in love with somebody.
ANGELA
Noble girl! But is it possible
that you have never loved anybody?
PATIENCE
Yes, one.
ANGELA
Ah! Whom?
PATIENCE
My great-aunt-
ANGELA
Great-aunts don't count.
PATIENCE
Then there's nobody. At least - no, nobody.
Not since I was a baby.
But that doesn't count, I suppose.
ANGELA
I don't know. Tell me about it.
No. 7. Long years ago, fourteen maybe
(Duet)
Patience and Angela
PATIENCE (R.)
Long years ago - fourteen, maybe,
When but a tiny babe of four,
Another baby played with me,
My elder by a year or more;
A little child of beauty rare,
With marv'lous eyes and wondrous hair,
Who, in my child-eyes, seemed to me
All that a little child should be!
(She goes to ANGELA, L.C.)
Ah, how we loved, that child and I!
How pure our baby joy!
How true our love - and, by the bye,
He was a little boy!
ANGELA
Ah, old, old tale of Cupid's touch!
I thought as much - I thought as much!
He was a little boy!
PATIENCE
Pray don't misconstrue what I say-
Remember, pray - remember, pray,
He was a little boy!
ANGELA
No doubt! Yet, spite of all your pains,
The interesting fact remains -
He was a little boy!
BOTH
Ah, yes, in/No doubt,
yet spite of all my/your pains,
The interesting fact remains-
He was a little boy!
He was a little boy!
(Exit ANGELA, L.)
PATIENCE (R.C.)
It's perfectly dreadful to think of the
appalling state I must be in! I had no idea that love was a
duty. No wonder they all look so unhappy! Upon my word, I
hardly like to associate with myself. I don't think I'm
respectable. I'll go at once and fall in love with...
(As she turns to go up R., GROSVENOR enters, R.U.E.
She sees him and turns back.)
a stranger!
No. 8. Prithee, pretty maiden
(Duet)
Patience and Grosvenor
GROSVENOR
(up-stage, R. )
Prithee, pretty maiden - prithee,
tell me true,
(Hey, but I'm doleful, willow willow waly!)
Have you e'er a lover a-dangling after you?
Hey willow waly O!
(coming down-stage)
I would fain discover
If you have a lover!
Hey willow waly O!
PATIENCE (L.)
Gentle sir, my heart is frolicsome and free-
(Hey, but he's doleful, willow willow waly!)
Nobody I care for comes a-courting me-
Hey willow waly O!
Nobody I care for
Comes a-courting - therefore,
Hey willow waly O!
GROSVENOR (C.)
Prithee, pretty maiden, will you marry me?
(Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow willow waly!)
I may say, at once, I'm a man of propertee-
Hey willow waly O!
Money, I despise it;
Many people prize it,
Hey willow waly O!
PATIENCE
Gentle Sir, although to marry I design-
(Hey, but he's hopeful, willow willow waly!)
As yet I do not know you, and so I must decline.
Hey willow waly O!
To other maidens go you-
As yet I do not know you,
BOTH
Hey willow waly O!
GROSVENOR
Patience! Can it be that you don't recognize me?
PATIENCE
(down L.)
Recognize you? No, indeed I don't!
GROSVENOR
Have fifteen years so greatly changed me?
PATIENCE
(turning to him)
Fifteen years? What do you mean?
GROSVENOR
Have you forgotten the friend of your youth, your
Archibald? - your little playfellow? Oh, Chronos, Chronos,
this is too bad of you!
(Comes down, C.)
PATIENCE
Archibald! Is it possible? Why, let me look! It is!
It is!
(takes his hands.)
It must be! Oh, how happy I am!
I thought we should never meet again!
And how you've grown!
GROSVENOR
Yes, Patience, I am much taller
and much stouter than I was.
PATIENCE
And how you've improved!
GROSVENOR
(dropping her hands and turning)
Yes, Patience, I am very beautiful!
(Sighs.)
PATIENCE
But surely that doesn't make you unhappy?
GROSVENOR
Yes, Patience. Gifted as I am with a beauty which
probably has not its rival on earth, I am, nevertheless,
utterly and completely miserable.
PATIENCE
Oh - but why?
GROSVENOR
My child-love for you has never faded.
Conceive, then, the horror of my situation
when I tell you that it is my hideous destiny to
be madly loved at first sight
by every woman I come across!
PATIENCE
But why do you make yourself so picturesque?
Why not disguise yourself, disfigure yourself,
anything to escape this persecution?
GROSVENOR
No, Patience, that may not be. These gifts - irksome as they are
- were given to me for the enjoyment
and delectation of my fellow-creatures.
I am a trustee for Beauty, and it is my duty to see
that the conditions of my trust are faithfully discharged.
PATIENCE
And you, too, are a Poet?
GROSVENOR
Yes, I am the Apostle of Simplicity. I am called
"Archibald the All-Right" - for I am infallible!
PATIENCE
And is it possible that you condescend
to love such a girl as I?
GROSVENOR
Yes, Patience, is it not strange? I have loved you
with a Florentine fourteenth-century frenzy
for full fifteen years!
PATIENCE
Oh, marvelous! I have hitherto been deaf to the voice of love.
I seem now to know what love is! It has been revealed to me
- it is Archibald Grosvenor!
GROSVENOR
Yes, Patience, it is!
(She goes into his arms.)
PATIENCE
(as in a trance)
We will never, never part!
GROSVENOR
We will live and die together!
PATIENCE
I swear it!
GROSVENOR
We both swear it!
PATIENCE
(recoiling from him)
But - oh, horror!
GROSVENOR
What's the matter?
PATIENCE
Why, you are perfection!
A source of endless ecstasy to all who know you!
GROSVENOR
I know I am. Well?
PATIENCE
Then, bless my heart, there can be
nothing unselfish in loving you!
GROSVENOR
Merciful powers! I never thought of that!
PATIENCE
To monopolize those features
on which all women love to linger!
It would be unpardonable!
GROSVENOR
Why, so it would! Oh, fatal perfection, again you
interpose between me and my happiness!
PATIENCE
Oh, if you were but a thought less beautiful
than you are!
GROSVENOR
Would that I were; but candour compels me
to admit that I'm not!
PATIENCE
Our duty is clear; we must part, and for ever!
GROSVENOR
Oh, misery! And yet I cannot question the propriety
of your decision. Farewell, Patience!
PATIENCE
Farewell, Archibald!
(they both turn to go.)
(suddenly)
But stay!
GROSVENOR
Yes, Patience?
PATIENCE
Although I may not love you - for you are perfection -
- there is nothing to prevent your loving me. I am plain,
homely, unattractive!
GROSVENOR
Why, that's true!
PATIENCE
The love of such a man as you for such a girl
as I must be unselfish!
GROSVENOR
Unselfishness itself!
No. 8a. Though to marry you would very selfish be
(Duet)
Patience and Grosvenor
PATIENCE
Though to marry you would very selfish be-
GROSVENOR
Hey, but I'm doleful - willow willow waly!
PATIENCE
You may, all the same, continue loving me -
GROSVENOR
Hey willow waly O!
BOTH
All the world ignoring,
You'll/I'll go on adoring-
Hey, willow waly O!
(They go off sadly - PATIENCE, L., GROSVENOR, R.U.E.)
No. 9. Let the merry cymbals sound
(Finale of Act I)
Ensemble
(Enter BUNTHORNE, crowned with roses
and hung about with garlands,
and looking very miserable.
He is led by ANGELA and SAPHIR
(each of whom holds an end
of the rose-garland by which he is bound),
and accompanied by procession of Maidens.
They are dancing classically,
and playing on cymbals, double pipes,
and other archaic instruments.
JANE last, with a very large pair of cymbals.)
(The procession enters over the drawbridge, BUNTHORNE being
preceded by the Chorus. They go R. and round the stage,
ending with BUNTHORNE down L.C., with ANGELA on his R.,
SAPHIR on his L., JANE up C.)
MAIDENS
Let the merry cymbals sound,
Gaily pipe Pandaean pleasure,
With a Daphnephoric bound
Tread a gay but classic measure,
Tread a gay but classic measure.
Ev'ry heart with hope is beating,
For, at this exciting meeting
Fickle Fortune will decide
Who shall be our Bunthorne's bride!
Ev'ry heart with hope is beating,
For, at this exciting meeting
Fickle Fortune will decide
Who shall be our Bunthorne's bride!
Let the merry cymbals sound,
Gaily pipe Pandaean pleasure,
With a Daphnephoric bound
Tread a gay but classic, classic measure,
Tread a gay but classic, classic measure,
A classic measure.
(DRAGOONS enter down R., forming
a line diagonally up to up- stage, C.)
Chorus of Dragoons
DRAGOONS
Now tell us, we pray you,
Why thus they array you-
Oh, poet, how say you-
What is it you've (optional - you have) done?
Now tell us, we pray you,
Why thus they array you-
Oh, poet, how say you-
What is it you've done?
Oh, poet, how say you-
What is it you've done?
DUKE (C.)
Of rite sacrificial,
By sentence judicial,
This seems the initial,
Then why don't you run?
COLONEL (R.C.)
They cannot have led you
To hang or behead you,
Nor may they all wed you,
Unfortunate one!
DRAGOONS
Then tell us, we pray you,
Why thus they array you-
Oh, poet, how say you-
What is it you've done?
(optional - Enter SOLICITOR.)
BUNTHORNE
Heart-broken at my Patience's barbarity,
By the advice of my solicitor
In aid - in aid of a deserving charity,
I've put myself up to be raffled for!
(He introduces his solicitor.)
MAIDENS
By the advice of his solicitor,
He's put himself up to be raffled for!
DRAGOONS
Oh, horror! urged by his solicitor,
He's put himself up to be raffled for!
MAIDENS
Oh, heaven's blessing on his solicitor!
DRAGOONS
A hideous curse on his solicitor!
MAIDENS
Oh, heaven's blessing on his solicitor!
DRAGOONS
A hideous curse on his solicitor!
MAIDENS and DRAGOONS
A blessing on his solicitor!
solicitor!
(The SOLICITOR, horrified
at the Dragoons' curse, rushes off, L.)
COLONEL
(R.C. BUNTHORNE up L.,
surrounded by the Ladies.)
Stay, we implore you,
Before our hopes are blighted;
You see before you
The men to whom you're plighted!
DRAGOONS
Stay, we implore you,
For we adore you;
To us you're plighted
To be united-
Stay, we implore you, we implore you!
DUKE (C.)
Your maiden hearts, ah, do not steel
To pity's eloquent appeal,
Such conduct British soldiers feel.
(Aside )
Sigh, sigh, all sigh!
(They all sigh.)
To foeman's steel we rarely see
A British soldier bend the knee,
Yet, one and all, they kneel to ye-
(Aside )
Kneel, kneel, all kneel!
(They all kneel.)
Our soldiers very seldom cry,
And yet - I need not tell you why-
A tear-drop dews each martial eye!
(Aside )
Weep, weep, all weep!
(They all weep.)
MAIDENS & DRAGOONS
Our/We soldiers very seldom cry,
And yet - they/we need not tell us/you why-
ABOVE & DUKE
A tear-drop dews each eye/martial eye!
Weep, weep, all weep!
(The Solicitor re-enters)
BUNTHORNE
(coming briskly forward, L.C.)
Come, walk up, and purchase with avidity,
Overcome your diffidence and natural timidity,
Tickets for the raffle should be purchased with avidity,
Put in half a guinea and a husband you may gain-
Such a judge of blue-and-white and other kinds of pottery-
From early Oriental down to modern terra-cottary-
Put in half a guinea - you may draw him in a lottery-
Such an opportunity may not occur again.
MAIDENS
Such a judge of blue-and-white and other kinds of pottery-
From early Oriental down to modern terra cottary-
Put in half a guinea - you may draw him in a lottery-
Such an opportunity may not occur again.
(MAIDENS crowd up to purchase tickets.
DRAGOONS dance in single file round stage,
to express their indifference.)
DRAGOONS
We've been thrown over, we're aware
But we don't care - but we don't care!
There's fish in the sea, no doubt of it,
As good as ever came out of it,
And some day we shall get our share,
So we don't care - so we don't care!
(During this the GIRLS have been buying tickets,
the Solicitor officiating. At last JANE presents herself.
BUNTHORNE looks at her with aversion.)
BUNTHORNE
And are you going a ticket for to buy?
JANE
(surprised)
Most certainly I am; why shouldn't I?
BUNTHORNE
(aside)
Oh, Fortune, this is hard!
(aloud)
Blindfold your eyes;
Two minutes will decide who wins the prize!
(GIRLS blindfold themselves.)
Chorus of MAIDENS
Oh, Fortune, to my aching heart be kind;
Like us, thou art blindfolded, but not blind!
Just raise your bandage, thus,
(Each uncovers one eye.)
that you may see,
And give the prize, and give the prize to me!
(They cover their eyes again.)
BUNTHORNE
Come, Lady Jane, I pray you draw the first!
JANE
(joyfully)
He loves me best!
BUNTHORNE
(aside)
I want to know the worst!
(JANE puts her hand in bag to draw ticket.
PATIENCE enters and prevents her.)
PATIENCE
Hold! Stay your hand!
ALL
(uncovering their eyes)
What means this interference?
Of this bold girl I pray you make a clearance!
JANE
Away with you, away with you,
and to your milk-pails go!
BUNTHORNE
(suddenly)
She wants a ticket! Take a dozen!
PATIENCE
No! If there be pardon in your breast
For this poor penitent,
Who with remorseful thought opprest,
Sincerely doth repent;
If you, with one so lowly, still
Desire to be allied,
Then you may take me, if you will,
For I will be your bride!
(She kneels to Bunthorne.)
CHORUS
Oh, shameless one!
Oh, bold-faced thing!
Away you run-
Go, take your wing,
Oh, shameless one!
Oh, bold-faced thing!
Away you run-
Go, take your wing,
You shameless one!
You bold-faced thing!
(Bunthorne raises her.)
BUNTHORNE
How strong is love! For many and many a week,
She's loved me fondly, and has feared to speak
But Nature, for restraint too mighty far,
Has burst the bonds of Art - and here we are!
PATIENCE
No, Mister Bunthorne, no - you're wrong again;
Permit me - I'll endeavour to explain!
True love must single-hearted be-
BUNTHORNE
Exactly so!
PATIENCE
From ev'ry selfish fancy free-
BUNTHORNE
Exactly so!
PATIENCE
No idle thought of gain or joy
A maiden's fancy should employ-
True love must be without alloy,
True love must be without alloy.
MEN
Exactly so!
PATIENCE
Imposture to contempt must lead-
COLONEL
Exactly so!
PATIENCE
Blind vanity's dissension's seed-
MAJOR
Exactly so!
PATIENCE
It follows, then, a maiden who
Devotes herself to loving you
Is prompted by no selfish view,
Is prompted by no selfish view!
MEN
Exactly so!
SAPHIR
(coming L. of BUNTHORNE)
Are you resolved to wed this shameless one?
ANGELA
(coming R. of BUNTHORNE)
Is there no chance for any other?
BUNTHORNE
(decisively)
None!
(Embraces PATIENCE)
(Exit PATIENCE and BUNTHORNE, L. ANGELA, SAPHIR,
and ELLA take COLONEL, DUKE, and MAJOR down,
while GIRLS gaze fondly at other Officers.)
SEXTET
(ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, DUKE, MAJOR, COLONEL)
I hear the soft note of the echoing voice
Of an old, old love, long dead-
It whispers my sorrowing heart "rejoice"-
For the last sad tear is shed-
The pain that is all but a pleasure will change
For the pleasure that's all but pain,
And never, oh never, this heart will range
From that old, old love again!
(GIRLS embrace OFFICERS)
CHORUS
Yes, the pain that is all but a pleasure will change
For the pleasure that's all but pain,
And never, oh never, our hearts will range
From that old, old love again!
DUKE and CHORUS
Oh, never, oh never
our hearts will range
will range
From that old, old love again!
SEXTET
CHORUS
Oh, never, oh never,
our hearts will range
From that old, old
love again!
(The GIRLS embrace the Officers.
Re-enter PATIENCE and BUNTHORNE. L.)
(As the DRAGOONS and GIRLS
are embracing, enter GROSVENOR,
R.U.E., reading. He takes no notice of them, but comes
slowly down, still reading. The GIRLS are all strangely
fascinated by him. The Chorus divides, L. & R.,
and the GIRLS are held back by the DRAGOONS,
as they attempt to throw themselves at GROSVENOR.
Fury of BUNTHORNE, who recognizes a rival.)
ANGELA (R.C.)
But who is this, whose god-like grace
Proclaims he comes of noble race?
And who is this, whose manly face
Bears sorrow's interesting trace?
CHORUS
Yes, who is this, whose god-like grace
Proclaims he comes of noble race?
GROSVENOR (C.)
I am a broken-hearted troubadour,
Whose mind's aesthetic and whose tastes are pure!
ANGELA
Aesthetic! He is aesthetic!
GROSVENOR
Yes, yes - I am aesthetic
And poetic!
MAIDENS
Then, we love you!
(They break away from the DRAGOONS,
and kneel to GROSVENOR.)
DRAGOONS
They love him! Horror!
BUNTHORNE and PATIENCE
They love him! Horror!
GROSVENOR
They love me! Horror! Horror! Horror!
ENSEMBLE
(all parts sung at the same time)
PATIENCE and DUKE
List, Reginald, while I confess
A love that's all unselfishness,
That it's unselfish, goodness knows,
You won't dispute it, I suppose!
ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, JANE and CHORUS
Oh, list while we a love confess
That words imperfectly express.
Those shell-like ears, ah, do not close
To blighted love's distracting woes!
ENSEMBLE
(all parts sung at the same time)
MAJOR, COLONEL, BUNTHORNE and GROSVENOR
My jealousy I can't express,
Their love they openly confess!
distress, Their love they
openly confess, confess!
MAIDENS and DRAGOONS
Yes, those shell-like ears, ah, do not close
To blighted love's distracting woes!
To blighted love's distracting woes,
their woes!
ENSEMBLE
(all parts sung at the same time)
PATIENCE and DUKE
Ah!
And I shall love you, I shall love.
Your ears, ah, do not close!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close
and is not this preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes!
explain it if you can!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close
and is not this preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes!
explain it if you can!
To love's, to love's distracting woes!
love's woes!
ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, JANE and MAIDENS
Oh, list while we our love confess
That words imperfectly express.
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close
To love's distracting woes!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close
To blighted love's distracting woes! woes!
Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close
To blighted love's distracting woes! woes!
To love's, to love's distracting woes!
love's woes.
BUNTHORNE and MAJOR and COLONEL
My jealousy I can't express,
Their love they openly confess.
His shell-like ears he does not close
To love's distracting woes!
His shell-like ears he does not close
and is not this preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes!
His shell-like ears he does not close
and is not this preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes!
To love's, to love's distracting woes!
love's woes!
GROSVENOR and MALE CHORUS
Again my cursed comeliness
Spreads hopeless anguish and distress;
Thine ears, oh, Fortune, do not close
To love's distracting woes!
My shell-like ears I can not close
and is not this preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes!
My shell-like ears I can not close
and is not this preposterous?
To blighted love's distracting woes!
To love's, to love's distracting woes!
love's woes!
(GROSVENOR makes a wild effort to escape up-stage;
the GIRLS drag him back and kneel as the curtain falls.)
ACT II
ACT I
ACT II
(SCENE - A wooded glade, with a view
of open country in the background.
The chorus of MAIDENS is heard singing in the distance.
JANE is discovered leaning on a violoncello,
which she has propped up on a tree-stump,
L., and upon which
she will presently accompany herself.
As the Chorus ends, she speaks.)
No. 10. On such eyes as maidens cherish
(Opening Chorus)
MAIDENS
On such eyes as maidens cherish
Lest thy fond adorers gaze,
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
JANE
The fickle crew have deserted Reginald and sworn allegiance
to his rival, and all, forsooth, because he has glanced with
passing favour on a puling milkmaid! Fools! Of that fancy he
will soon weary - and then, I, who alone am faithful to him,
shall reap my reward. But do not dally too long, Reginald, for
my charms are ripe, Reginald, and already they are decaying.
Better secure me ere I have gone too far!
No. 11. Sad is that woman's lot
(Recitative and Solo)
Jane
JANE
Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year,
Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear,
When Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs,
Impatiently begins to dim her eyes!
Compelled, at last, in life's uncertain gloamings,
To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved "combings,"
Reduced, with rouge, lip-shade, and pearly grey,
To "make up" for lost time as best she may!
Silvered is the raven hair,
Spreading is the parting straight,
Mottled the complexion fair,
Halting is the youthful gait,
Hollow is the laughter free,
Spectacled the limpid eye,
Little will be left of me
In the coming bye and bye!
Little will be left of me
In the coming bye and bye!
Fading is the taper waist,
Shapeless grows the shapely limb,
And although severely laced,
Spreading is the figure trim!
Stouter than I used to be,
Still more corpulent grow I-
There will be too much of me
In the coming by and bye!
There will be too much of me
In the coming by and bye!
(Exit, L., carrying her violoncello.)
(Enter GROSVENOR, R., followed by MAIDENS,
two and two, playing on archaic instruments as in Act I.
He is reading abstractedly, as BUNTHORNE did in Act I,
and pays no attention to them.)
No. 12. Turn, oh, turn in this direction
(Chorus)
MAIDENS
Turn, oh, turn in this direction,
Shed, oh, shed a gentle smile,
With a glance of sad perfection,
Our poor fainting hearts beguile!
On such eyes as maidens cherish
Let thy fond adorers gaze,
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
Or incontinently perish,
In their all-consuming rays!
(GROSVENOR sits, R.; they group themselves around him
in a formation similar to that which opens Act I.)
GROSVENOR
(aside, not looking up)
The old, old tale. How rapturously these maidens love me,
and how hopelessly!
(He looks up.)
Oh, Patience, Patience, with the love of thee in my heart,
what have I for these poor mad maidens but an unvalued pity?
Alas, they will die of hopeless love for me, as I shall die of
hopeless love for thee!
ANGELA
Sir, will it please you read to us?
GROSVENOR
(sighing)
Yes, child, if you will. What shall I read?
ANGELA
One of your own poems.
GROSVENOR
One of my own poems? Better not, my child.
They will not cure thee of thy love.
(All sigh.)
ELLA
Mr. Bunthorne used to read us a poem of his own every day.
SAPHIR
And, to do him justice, he read them extremely well.
GROSVENOR
Oh, did he so? Well, who am I that I should take upon
myself to withhold my gifts from you? What am I but a trustee?
Here is a decalet - a pure and simple thing, a very daisy - a
babe might understand it. To appreciate it, it is not necessary
to think of anything at all.
ANGELA
Let us think of nothing at all!
GROSVENOR
(reciting)
Gentle Jane was as good as gold,
She always did as she was told;
She never spoke when her mouth was full,
Or caught bluebottles their legs to pull,
Or spilt plum jam on her nice new frock,
Or put white mice in the eight-day clock,
Or vivisected her last new doll,
Or fostered a passion for alcohol.
And when she grew up she was given in marriage
To a first-class earl who keeps his carriage!
GROSVENOR
I believe I am right in saying that there is not one word
in that decalet which is calculated to bring the blush of shame
to the cheek of modesty.
ANGELA
Not one; it is purity itself.
GROSVENOR
Here's another.
Teasing Tom was a very bad boy,
A great big squirt was his favourite toy
He put live shrimps in his father's boots,
And sewed up the sleeves of his Sunday suits;
He punched his poor little sisters' heads,
And cayenne-peppered their four-post beds;
He plastered their hair with cobbler's wax,
And dropped hot halfpennies down their backs.
The consequence was he was lost totally,
And married a girl in the corps de bally!
(The MAIDENS express intense horror.)
ANGELA
Marked you how grandly - how relentlessly - the damning
catalogue of crime strode on, till Retribution, like a poised
hawk, came swooping down upon the Wrong-Doer?
Oh, it was terrible!
(All shudder.)
ELLA
Oh, sir, you are indeed a true poet,
for you touch our hearts, and they go out to you!
GROSVENOR
(aside)
This is simply cloying.
(aloud)
Ladies, I am sorry to appear ungallant, but this is Saturday,
and you have been following me about ever since Monday.
I should like the usual half-holiday.
I shall take it as a personal favour if you will kindly
allow me to close early to-day.
SAPHIR
Oh, sir, do not send us from you!
GROSVENOR
Poor, poor girls! It is best to speak plainly.
I know that I am loved by you,
but I never can love you in return, for
my heart is fixed elsewhere!
Remember the fable of the Magnet and the Churn.
ANGELA
(wildly)
But we don't know the fable
of the Magnet and the Churn!
GROSVENOR
Don't you? Then I will sing it to you.
No. 13. A magnet hung in a hardware shop
(Solo and Chorus)
Grosvenor and Maidens
GROSVENOR
A magnet hung in a hardware shop,
And all around was a loving crop
Of scissors and needles, nails and knives,
Offering love for all their lives;
But for iron the magnet felt no whim,
Though he charmed iron, it charmed not him;
From needles and nails and knives he'd turn,
For he'd set his love on a Silver Churn!
MAIDENS
A Silver Churn!
GROSVENOR
A Silver Churn!
His most aesthetic,
Very magnetic
Fancy took this turn-
"If I can wheedle
A knife or a needle,
Why not a Silver Churn?"
MAIDENS
His most aesthetic,
Very magnetic
Fancy took this turn-
"If I can wheedle
A knife or a needle,
Why not a Silver Churn?"
GROSVENOR
(He rises, going C.)
And Iron and Steel expressed surprise,
The needles opened their well-drilled eyes,
The penknives felt "shut up", no doubt,
The scissors declared themselves "cut out",
The kettles they boiled with rage, 'tis said,
While ev'ry nail went off its head,
And hither and thither began to roam,
Till a hammer came up and drove them home.
MAIDENS
It drove them home?
GROSVENOR
It drove them home!
While this magnetic,
Peripatetic
Lover he lived to learn,
By no endeavour
Can magnet ever
Attract a Silver Churn!
MAIDENS
While this magnetic,
Peripatetic
Lover he lived to learn,
MAIDENS and GROSVENOR
By no endeavour
Can magnet ever
Attract a Silver Churn!
(They go off in low spirits, R.U.E.,
gazing back at him from time to time.)
GROSVENOR
At last they are gone! What is this mysterious
fascination that I seem to exercise over all I come across?
A curse on my fatal beauty, for I am sick of conquests!
(Goes R.)
(Enter PATIENCE, L. Stops L.C. on seeing GROSVENOR.)
GROSVENOR
(Turns and sees her.)
Patience!
PATIENCE
I have escaped with difficulty from my Reginald.
I wanted to see you so much that I might ask you
if you still love me as fondly as ever?
GROSVENOR
Love you? If the devotion of a lifetime-
(seizing her hand.)
PATIENCE
(indignantly)
Hold! Unhand me, or I scream!
(He releases her.)
If you are a gentleman, pray remember
that I am another's!
(very tenderly.)
But you do love me, don't you?
GROSVENOR
Madly, hopelessly, despairingly!
PATIENCE
That's right! I never
can be yours; but that's right!
GROSVENOR
And you love this Bunthorne?
PATIENCE
With a heart-whole ecstasy that withers,
and scorches, and burns, and stings!
(sadly)
It is my duty.
GROSVENOR
Admirable girl!
But you are not happy with him?
PATIENCE
Happy? I am miserable
beyond description!
GROSVENOR
That's right!
I never can be yours; but that's right!
PATIENCE
But go now. I see dear Reginald approaching.
Farewell, dear Archibald;
I cannot tell you how happy it has made me
to know that you still love me.
GROSVENOR
Ah, if I only dared-
(advancing towards her)
PATIENCE
Sir! this language to one
who is promised to another!
(tenderly)
Oh, Archibald, think
of me sometimes, for my heart is breaking!
He is unkind to me, and you would be so loving!
GROSVENOR
Loving!
(advancing towards her)
PATIENCE
Advance one step, and as I am a good
and pure woman, I scream!
(tenderly)
Farewell, Archibald!
(sternly)
Stop there!
(tenderly)
Think of me sometimes!
(angrily)
Advance at your peril!
Once more, adieu!
(GROSVENOR sighs, gazes sorrowfully at her, sighs deeply,
and exits, R. She bursts into tears.)
(Enter BUNTHORNE, followed by JANE.
He is moody and preoccupied.)
In a doleful train
(Solo)
Jane
JANE
In a doleful train
One and one I walk all day;
For I love in vain-
None so sorrowful as they
Who can only sigh and say,
Woe is me, alackaday!
BUNTHORN
(seeing PATIENCE)
Crying, eh?
What are you crying about?
PATIENCE
I've only been thinking
how dearly I love you!
BUNTHORN
Love me! Bah!
JANE
Love him! Bah!
BUNTHORN
(to JANE)
Don't you interfere.
JANE
He always crushes me!
PATIENCE
(going to him)
What is the matter, dear Reginald?
If you have any sorrow, tell it to me,
that I may share it with you.
(sighing)
It is my duty!
BUNTHORN
(snappishly)
Whom were you talking with just now?
PATIENCE
With dear Archibald.
BUNTHORN
(furiously)
With dear Archibald!
Upon my honour,
this is too much!
JANE
A great deal too much!
BUNTHORN
(angrily to JANE)
Do be quiet!
JANE
Crushed again!
PATIENCE
I think he is the noblest, purest,
and most perfect being I have ever met.
But I don't love him.
It is true that he is devotedly attached to me,
but I don't love him.
Whenever he grows affectionate,
I scream. It is my duty!
(sighing)
BUNTHORN
I dare say!
JANE
So do I! I dare say!
PATIENCE
Why, how could I love him and love you too?
You can't love two people at once!
BUNTHORN
Oh, can't you, though!
PATIENCE
No, you can't; I only wish you could.
BUNTHORN
I don't believe you know what love is!
PATIENCE
(sighing)
Yes, I do. There was a happy time when I
didn't, but a bitter experience has taught me.
(BUNTHORNE, noticing that JANE is not looking at him,
goes off quickly up R. She turns, sees him, and runs after him.)
No. 14. Love is a plaintive song
(Solo)
Patience
PATIENCE
Love is a plaintive song,
Sung by a suff'ring maid,
Telling a tale of wrong,
Telling of hope betrayed;
Tuned to each changing note,
Sorry when he is sad,
Blind to his ev'ry mote,
Merry when he is glad!
Merry when he is glad!
Love that no wrong can cure,
Love that is always new,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love that's true!
Love that no wrong can cure,
Love that is always new,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love, the love that's true!
Rendering good for ill,
Smiling at ev'ry frown,
Yielding your own self-will,
Laughing your teardrops down;
Never a selfish whim,
Trouble, or pain to stir;
Everything for him,
Nothing at all for her!
Nothing at all for her!
Love that will aye endure,
Though the rewards be few,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love that's true!
Love that will aye endure,
Though the rewards be few,
That is the love that's pure,
That is the love, the love that's true!
(At the end of ballad exit PATIENCE, L., weeping.
Enter BUNTHORNE, R., JANE following.)
BUNTHORN
Everything has gone wrong with me
since that smug-faced idiot came here.
Before that I was admired - I may say, loved.
JANE
Too mild - adored!
BUNTHORN
Do let a poet soliloquize!
The damozels used to follow me wherever I went;
now they all follow him!
JANE
Not all! I am still faithful to you.
BUNTHORN
Yes, and a pretty damozel you are!
JANE
No, not pretty. Massive. Cheer up!
I will never leave you, I swear it!
BUNTHORN
Oh, thank you! I know what it is;
it's his confounded mildness.
They find me too highly spiced, if you please!
And no doubt I am highly spiced.
JANE
Not for my taste!
BUNTHORN
(savagely)
No, but I am for theirs. But I will show the world
I can be as mild as he. If they want insipidity,
they shall have it. I'll meet this fellow
on his own ground and beat him on it.
JANE
You shall. And I will help you.
BUNTHORN
You will? Jane, there's a good deal
of good in you, after all!
No. 15. So go to him and say to him
(Duet)
Jane and Bunthorne
(Dance)
JANE
So go to him and say to him,
with compliment ironical-
BUNTHORNE
Sing "Hey to you-
Good-day to you"-
And that's what I shall say!
JANE
"Your style is much too sanctified -
your cut is too canonical"-
BUNTHORNE
Sing "Bah to you-
Ha! ha! to you"-
And that's what I shall say!
JANE
"I was the beau ideal of the morbid young aesthetical-
To doubt my inspiration was regarded as heretical-
Until you cut me out with your placidity emetical."
BUNTHORNE
Sing "Booh to you-
Pooh, pooh to you"-
And that's what I shall say!
Sing "Booh to you-
Pooh, pooh to you"-
And that's what I shall say!
JANE and BUNTHORNE
Sing "Hey to you - good-day to you"-
Sing "Bah to you - ha! ha! to you"-
Sing "Booh to you - pooh, pooh to you"-
And that's what you should say!
Sing "Hey to you - good-day to you"-
Sing "Bah to you -ha! ha! to you"-
Sing "Booh to you"-
And that's what you should say!
"Bah, bah,"
And that's what you should say!
"Booh, booh,"
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE
I'll tell him that unless he will consent
to be more jocular-
JANE
Sing "Booh to you-
Pooh, pooh to you"-
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE
To cut his curly hair, and stick
an eyeglass in his ocular-
JANE
Sing "Bah to you-
Ha! ha! to you"-
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE
To stuff his conversation full of quibble and of quiddity,
To dine on chops and roly-poly pudding with avidity-
He'd better clear away with all convenient rapidity.
JANE
Sing "Hey to you-
Good-day to you"-
And that's what you should say!
BUNTHORNE
Sing "Booh to you-
Pooh, pooh to you"-
And that's what I shall say!
JANE and BUNTHORNE
Sing "Hey to you - good-day to you"-
Sing "Bah to you - ha! ha! to you"-
Sing "Booh to you - pooh, pooh to you"-
And that's what you should say!
Sing "Hey to you - good-day to you"-
Sing "Bah to you - ha! ha! to you"-
Sing "Booh to you"-
And that's what you should say!
"Bah, bah,"
And that's what you should say!
"Booh, booh,"
And that's what you should say!
(They dance off, L.)
(Enter DUKE, COLONEL, and MAJOR, R. They have abandoned their
uniforms, and are dressed and made up in imitation of Aesthetics.
They have long hair, and other signs of attachment to the brotherhood.
As they sing they walk in stiff, constrained, and angular attitudes
- a grotesque exaggeration of the attitudes adopted by BUNTHORNE
and the young LADIES in Act I.)
(Enter DUKE... enter MAJOR... enter COLONEL,
Attitude. They walk to C.)
No. 16. It's clear that mediaeval art
(Trio)
Duke, Major, and Colonel
ALL
It's clear that medieval art
alone retains its zest,
To charm and please its devotees
we've done our little best.
We're not quite sure if all we
do has the Early English ring;
But, as far as we can judge,
it's something like this sort of thing:
You hold yourself like this, (attitude)
You hold yourself like that, (attitude)
By hook and crook you try to look
both angular and flat (attitude).
We venture to expect
That what we recollect,
Though but a part of true High Art,
will have its due effect.
If this is not exactly right,
we hope you won't upbraid;
You can't get high Aesthetic tastes,
like trousers, ready made.
True views on Medieavalism Time
alone will bring,
But, as far as we can judge,
it's something like this sort of thing:
You hold yourself like this, (attitude)
You hold yourself like that, (attitude)
By hook and crook you try to look
both angular and flat (attitude).
To cultivate the trim Rigidity of limb,
You ought to get a Marionette,
and form your style on him (attitude).
(Attitudes change in time to the music.)
COLONEL
(attitude)
Yes, it's quite clear that our only chance
of making a lasting impression
on these young ladies is to become
as aesthetic as they are.
MAJOR
(attitude)
No doubt. The only question is how far
we've succeeded in doing so.
I don't know why,
but I've an idea that this is not quite right.
DUKE
(attitude)
I don't like it. I never did.
I don't see what it means.
I do it, but I don't like it.
COLONEL
My good friend, the question
is not whether we like it,
but whether they do.
They understand these things - we don't.
Now I shouldn't be surprised if
this is effective enough - at a distance.
MAJOR
I can't help thinking we're a little stiff at it.
It would be extremely awkward
if we were to be "struck" so!
COLONEL
I don't think we shall be struck so.
Perhaps we're a little awkward at first -
but everything must have a beginning.
Oh, here they come! 'Tention!
(They strike fresh attitudes, as ANGELA and SAPHIR enter, L.)
ANGELA
(seeing them)
Oh, Saphir - see - see! The immortal
fire has descended on them,
and they are of the Inner Brotherhood
perceptively intense and consummately utter.
(The OFFICERS have some difficulty
in maintaining their constrained attitudes.)
SAPHIR
(in admiration)
How Botticelian! How Fra Angelican!
Oh, Art, we thank thee for this boon!
COLONEL
(apologetically)
I'm afraid we're not quite right.
ANGELA
Not supremely, perhaps, but oh, so all - but!
(to SAPHIR)
Oh, Saphir, are they not quite too all - but?
SAPHIR
They are indeed jolly utter!
MAJOR
(in agony)
I wonder what the Inner Brotherhood usually
recommend for cramp?
COLONEL
Ladies, we will not deceive you.
We are doing this at some personal inconvenience
with a view of expressing the extremity of our devotion to you.
We trust that it is not without its effect.
ANGELA
We will not deny that we are much moved
by this proof of your attachment.
SAPHIR
Yes, your conversion to the principles of Aesthetic Art
in its highest development has touched us deeply.
ANGELA
And if Mr. Bunthorne should remain obdurate-
SAPHIR
Which we have every reason to believe he will-
MAJOR
(aside, in agony)
I wish they'd make haste!
(The others hush him.)
ANGELA
We are not prepared to say that our yearning hearts
will not go out to you.
COLONEL
(as giving a word of command)
By sections of threes - Rapture!
(All strike a fresh attitude,
expressive of aesthetic rapture.)
SAPHIR
Oh, it's extremely good -
for beginners it's admirable.
MAJOR
The only question is,
who will take who?
COLONEL
Oh, the Duke chooses first,
as a matter of course.
DUKE
Oh, I couldn't thank of it -
you are really too good!
COLONEL
Nothing of the kind. You are a great matrimonial fish,
and it's only fair that each of these ladies should have a chance
of hooking you. It's perfectly simple. Observe, suppose you
choose Angela, I take Saphir, Major takes nobody.
(with increasing speed)
Suppose you choose Saphir, Major tales Angela,
I take nobody. Suppose you choose neither, I take Angela,
Major takes Saphir. Clear as day!
(The officers, with obvious relief, abandon their aesthetic
attitudes, and, with the Ladies, dance into position. L. to
R. 1st verse: Colonel with Angela; Duke with Saphir; Major
alone. 2nd verse: Colonel alone; Angela with Duke; Saphir
with Major. 3rd verse: Colonel with Saphir; Duke alone;
Angela with Major.)
No. 17. If Saphir I choose to marry
Quintet
Duke, Colonel, Major, Angela, and Saphir
DUKE
If Saphir I choose to marry,
I shall be fixed up for life;
Then the Colonel need not tarry,
Angela can be his wife.
MAJOR
In that case unprecedented,
Single I shall live and die-
I shall have to be contented
With their heartfelt sympathy!
ALL
He will have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I will/shall live and die-
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
DUKE
If on Angy I determine,
At my wedding she'll appear,
Decked in diamond and ermine.
Major then can take Saphir!
COLONEL
In that case unprecedented,
Single I shall live and die-
I shall have to be contented
With their heartfelt sympathy!
ALL
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I will/shall live and die-
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
(Positions at beginning of Verse 3: L. to R.,
COLONEL, ANGELA, DUKE, SAPHIR, MAJOR)
DUKE
After some debate internal,
If on neither I decide,
Saphir then can take the Colonel,
(Hands her to the COLONEL.)
Angy be the Major's bride!
(Hands her to the MAJOR.)
In that case unprecedented,
Single I shall live and die-
I shall have to be contented
With their heartfelt sympathy!
ALL
He will have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I will/shall live and die-
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
He/I will/shall have to be contented
With our/their heartfelt sympathy!
(They dance off, arm-in-arm, up-stage and off, L.U.E.,
the COLONEL leading with SAPHIR.)
(Enter GROSVENOR, R.U.E.)
GROSVENOR
It is very pleasant to be alone.
It is pleasant to be able to gaze at leisure
upon those features which all others may
gaze upon at their good will!
(Looking at his reflection in hand-mirror.)
Ah, I am a very Narcissus!
(Enter BUNTHORNE, L. moodily.)
BUNTHORN
It's no use; I can't live without admiration.
Since Grosvenor came here,
insipidity has been at a premium.
Ah, he is there!
GROSVENOR
Ah, Bunthorne! Come here - look!
Very graceful, isn't it!
BUNTHORN
(taking hand-mirror)
Allow me; I haven't seen it.
Yes, it is graceful.
GROSVENOR
(taking back the mirror)
Oh, good gracious! not that - this-
BUNTHORN
You don't mean that! Bah!
I am in no mood for trifling.
GROSVENOR
And what is amiss?
BUNTHORN
Ever since you came here, you have
entirely monopolized the attentions
of the young ladies. I don't like it, sir!
GROSVENOR
My dear sir, how can I help it?
They are the plague of my life.
My dear Mr. Bunthorne,
with your personal disadvantages,
you can have no idea of the inconvenience
of being madly loved,
at first sight, by every woman you meet.
BUNTHORN
Sir, until you came here I was adored!
GROSVENOR
Exactly - until I came here. That's my grievance.
I cut everybody out! I assure you,
if you could only suggest some means whereby,
consistently with my duty to society,
I could escape these inconvenient attentions,
you would earn my everlasting gratitude.
BUNTHORN
I will do so at once. However popular it may be
with the world at large, your personal appearance
is highly objectionable to me.
GROSVENOR
It is?
(shaking his hand)
Oh, thank you! thank you!
How can I express my gratitude?
BUNTHORN
By making a complete change at once.
Your conversation must henceforth
be perfectly matter-of-fact.
You must cut your hair,
and have a back parting.
In appearance and costume you
must be absolutely commonplace.
GROSVENOR
(decidedly)
No. Pardon me, that's impossible.
BUNTHORN
Take care! When I am thwarted
I am very terrible.
GROSVENOR
I can't help that. I am a man with a mission.
And that mission must be fulfilled.
BUNTHORN
I don't think you quite appreciate the consequences
of thwarting me.
GROSVENOR
I don't care what they are.
BUNTHORN
Suppose - I won't go so far as to say that I will do it -
but suppose for one moment I were to curse you?
(GROSVENOR quails.)
Ah! Very well. Take care.
GROSVENOR
But surely you would never do that?
(In great alarm)
BUNTHORN
I don't know. It would be
an extreme measure, no doubt. Still-
GROSVENOR
(wildly)
But you would not do it -
I am sure you would not.
(Throwing himself at BUNTHORNE's knees,
and clinging to him)
Oh, reflect, reflect!
You had a mother once.
BUNTHORN
Never!
GROSVENOR
Then you had an aunt!
(BUNTHORNE affected.)
Ah! I see you had!
By the memory of that aunt,
I implore you to pause ere you resort
to this last fearful expedient.
Oh, Mr. Bunthorne, reflect, reflect!
(Weeping)
BUNTHORN
(aside, after a struggle with himself)
I must not allow
myself to be unmanned!
(aloud)
It is useless. Consent at once,
or may a nephew's curse-
GROSVENOR
Hold!
Are you absolutely resolved?
BUNTHORN
Absolutely.
GROSVENOR
Will nothing shake you?
BUNTHORN
Nothing. I am adamant.
GROSVENOR
Very good.
(rising)
Then I yield.
BUNTHORN
Ha! You swear it?
GROSVENOR
I do, cheerfully.
I have long wished for a reasonable pretext
for such a change as you suggest. It has come at last.
I do it on compulsion!
BUNTHORN
Victory! I triumph!
No. 18. When I go out of door
(Duet)
Bunthorne and Grosvenor
(Each one dances around the stage while
the other is singing his solo verses.)
BUNTHORNE
When I go out of door,
Of damozels a score
(All sighing and burning,
And clinging and yearning)
Will follow me as before.
I shall, with cultured taste,
Distinguish gems from paste,
And "High diddle diddle"
Will rank as an idyll,
If I pronounce it chaste!
BOTH
A most intense young man,
A soulful-eyed young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical,
Out-of-the-way young man!
GROSVENOR
Conceive me, if you can,
An ev'ryday young man:
A commonplace type,
With a stick and a pipe,
And a half-bred black-and-tan;
Who thinks suburban "hops"
More fun than "Monday Pops,"-
Who's fond of his dinner,
And doesn't get thinner
On bottled beer and chops.
BOTH
A commonplace young man,
A matter-of-fact young man-
A steady and stolidy, jolly Bank-holiday,
Every-day young man!
BUNTHORNE
A Japanese young man-
A blue-and-white young man-
Francesca di Rimini, miminy, piminy,
Je-ne-sais-quoi young man!
GROSVENOR
A Chancery lane young man-
A Somerset House young man,-
A very delectable, highly respectable
Three-penny-bus young man!
BUNTHORNE
A pallid and thin young man-
A haggard and lank young man,
A greenery-yallery, Grosvenor Gallery,
Foot-in-the-grave young man!
GROSVENOR
A Sewell and Cross young man,
A Howell & James young man,
A pushing young particle - "What's the next
article?"-
Waterloo House young man!
BUNTHORNE and GROSVENOR
Conceive me, if you can,
A crotchety, cracked young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical,
arithmetical,
Out-of-the way young man!
Conceive me, if you can,
A crotchety, cracked young man,
An ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical,
arithmetical,
Out-of-the way young man!
(GROSVENOR dances off, L.U.E. )
BUNTHORN
It is all right! I have committed my last act of ill-
nature, and henceforth I'm a changed character.
(Dances about stage, humming refrain of last air.
Enter PATIENCE, L. She gazes in astonishment at him.)
PATIENCE
Reginald! Dancing! And - what in the world is the
matter with you?
BUNTHORN
Patience, I'm a changed man. Hitherto I've been gloomy,
moody, fitful - uncertain in temper and selfish in disposition-
PATIENCE
You have, indeed!
(sighing)
BUNTHORN
All that is changed. I have reformed. I have modelled
myself upon Mr. Grosvenor. Henceforth I am mildly cheerful.
My conversation will blend amusement with instruction.
I shall still be aesthetic; but my aestheticism will be
of the most pastoral kind.
PATIENCE
Oh, Reginald! Is all this true?
BUNTHORN
Quite true. Observe how amiable I am.
(Assuming a fixed smile)
PATIENCE
But, Reginald, how long will this last?
BUNTHORN
With occasional intervals for rest and refreshment,
as long as I do.
PATIENCE
Oh, Reginald, I'm so happy! Oh, dear, dear Reginald,
I cannot express the joy I feel at this change.
It will no longer be a duty to love you,
but a pleasure - a rapture - an ecstasy!
BUNTHORN
My darling!
(embracing her)
PATIENCE
But - oh, horror!
(recoiling from him)
BUNTHORN
What's the matter?
PATIENCE
Is it quite certain that you have absolutely reformed -
- that you are henceforth a perfect being - utterly free
from defect of any kind?
BUNTHORN
It is quite certain. I have sworn it.
PATIENCE
Then I never can be yours!
(crossing to R.C.)
BUNTHORN
Why not?
PATIENCE
Love, to be pure, must be absolutely unselfish,
and there can be nothing unselfish in loving so perfect
a being as you have now become!
BUNTHORN
But, stop a bit. I don't want to change - I'll relapse -
I'll be as I was - interrupted!
(Enter GROSVENOR, L.U.E., followed by all the young LADIES,
who are followed by Chorus of DRAGOONS. He has had his hair
cut, and is dressed in an ordinary suit and a bowler hat.
They all dance cheerfully round the stage in marked contrast
to their former languor.)
No. 19. I'm a Waterloo House young man
(Solo and Chorus)
Grosvenor and Maidens
GROSVENOR
I'm a Waterloo House young man,
A Sewell & Cross young man,
A steady and stolidy, jolly Bank-holiday,
Everyday young man.
MAIDENS
We're Swears & Wells young girls,
We're Madame Louise young girls,
We're prettily pattering, cheerily chattering,
Every-day young girls.
BUNTHORN (C.)
Angela - Ella - Saphir -
what - what does this mean?
ANGELA (R.)
It means that Archibald the All-Right cannot be all- wrong;
and if the All-Right chooses to discard aestheticism,
it proves that aestheticism ought to be discarded.
PATIENCE
Oh, Archibald! Archibald! I'm shocked
- surprised - horrified!
GROSVENOR (L.C.)
I can't help it. I'm not a free agent.
I do it on compulsion.
PATIENCE
This is terrible. Go! I shall never set eyes
on you again. But - oh, joy!
GROSVENOR(L.C.)
What is the matter?
PATIENCE (R.C.)
Is it quite, quite certain that you will always
be a commonplace young man?
GROSVENOR
Always - I've sworn it.
PATIENCE
Why, then, there's nothing to prevent my loving you
with all the fervour at my command!
GROSVENOR
Why, that's true.
PATIENCE
(crossing to him)
My Archibald!
GROSVENOR
My Patience!
(They embrace.)
BUNTHORN
Crushed again!
(Enter JANE, L.)
JANE
(who is still aesthetic)
Cheer up! I am still here. I
have never left you, and I never will!
BUNTHORN
Thank you, Jane. After all, there is no denying it,
you're a fine figure of a woman!
JANE
My Reginald!
BUNTHORN
My Jane!
(They embrace.)
Fanfare
(Enter, R., COLONEL, MAJOR, and DUKE.
They are again in uniform.)
COLONEL
Ladies, the Duke has at length determined
to select a bride!
(General excitement)
DUKE (R.)
I have a great gift to bestow.
Approach, such of you
as are truly lovely.
(All the MAIDENS come forward, bashfully,
except JANE and PATIENCE.)
In personal appearance you have all
that is necessary to make a woman happy.
In common fairness, I think I ought to choose
the only one among you who has
the misfortune to be distinctly plain.
(Girls retire disappointed.)
Jane!
JANE
(leaving BUNTHORNE's arms)
Duke!
(JANE and DUKE embrace.
BUNTHORNE is utterly disgusted.)
BUNTHORN
Crushed again!
No. 20. After much debate internal
(Finale of Act II)
Ensemble
DUKE (R.C.)
After much debate internal,
I on Lady Jane decide,
Saphir now may take the Col'nel,
Angry be the Major's bride!
(SAPHIR pairs off with COLONEL, R.,
ANGELA with MAJOR, L.C.,
ELLA with SOLICITOR, L.)
BUNTHORNE (C.)
In that case unprecedented,
Single I must live and die-
I shall have to be contented
With a tulip or li-ly!
(BUNTHORNE, C., takes a lily from buttonhole
and gazes affectionately at it.)
SAPHIR, ELLA, ANGELA, DUKE,
BUNTHORNE and COLONEL
He will have to be contented
With a tulip or li-ly!
ALL
In that case unprecedented,
Single he/I must live and die-
He will/I shall have to be contented
With a tulip or li-ly!
Greatly pleased with one another,
To get married we/they decide.
Each of us/them will wed the other,
Nobody be Bunthorne's Bride!
Dance
T h e E n d
ACT I
ACT II
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