 | The Grand Duke ; Or, The Statutory Duel |  |
Enter a procession of the members of the theatrical company (now dressed in the costumes of Troilus and Cressida), carrying garlands, playing on pipes, citharæ, and cymbals, and heralding the return of Ludwig and Julia from the marriage ceremony, which has just taken place.
As before you we defile,
Eloia! Eloia!
Pray you, gentles, do not smile
If we shout, in classic style,
Eloia!
Ludwig and his Julia true
Wedded are each other to—
So we sing, till all is blue,
Eloia! Eloia!
Opoponax! Eloia!
Wreaths of bay and ivy twine,
Eloia! Eloia!
Fill the bowl with Lesbian wine,
And to revelry incline—
Eloia!
For as gaily we pass on
Probably we shall, anon,
Sing a Diergeticon—
Eloia! Eloia!
Opoponax! Eloia!
Recit.—Ludwig.
Your loyalty our Ducal heartstrings touches:
Allow me to present your new Grand Duchess.
Should she offend, you'll graciously excuse her—
And kindly recollect I didn't choose her!
At the outset I may mention it's my sovereign intention
To revive the classic memories of Athens at its best,
For the company possesses all the necessary dresses
And a course of quiet cramming will supply us with the rest.
We've a choir hyporchematic (that is, ballet-operatic)
Who respond to the choreutœ of that cultivated age,
And our clever chorus-master, all but captious criticaster,
Would accept as the choregus of the early Attic stage.
This return to classic ages is considered in their wages,
Which are always calculated by the day or by the week—
And I'll pay 'em (if they'll back me) all in oboloi and drachmœ,
Which they'll get (if they prefer it) at the Kalends that are Greek!
(Confidentially to audience.)
At this juncture I may mention
That this erudition sham
Is but classical pretension,
The result of steady “cram.”:
Periphrastic methods spurning,
To this audience discerning
I admit this show of learning
Is the fruit of steady “cram.”!
Chorus.
Periphrastic methods, etc.
In the period Socratic every dining-room was Attic
(Which suggests an architecture of a topsy-turvy kind),
There they'd satisfy their thirst on a recherché cold αριστον
Which is what they called their lunch—and so may you, if you're inclined.
As they gradually got on, they'd τρεπεσθαι προς τον ποτον
(Which is Attic for a steady and a conscientious drink).
But they mixed their wine with water—which I'm sure they didn't oughter—
And we modern Saxons know a trick worth two of that, I think!
Then came rather risky dances (under certain circumstances)
Which would shock that worthy gentleman, the Licenser of Plays,
Corybantian maniac kick—Dionysiac or Bacchic—
And the Dithryambic revels of those undecorous days.
(Confidentially to audience.)
And perhaps I'd better mention,
Lest alarming you I am,
That it isn't our intention
To perform a Dithryamb—
It displays a lot of stocking,
Which is always very shocking,
And of course I'm only mocking
At the prevalence of “cram.”
Chorus.
It displays a lot, etc.
Yes, on reconsideration, there are customs of that nation
Which are not in strict accordance with the habits of our day,
And when I come to codify, their rules I mean to modify,
Or Mrs. Grundy, p'r'aps, may have a word or two to say.
And a shower with their dresses must have played the very deuce,
And it must have been unpleasing when they caught a fit of sneezing,
For, it seems, of pocket-handkerchiefs they didn't know the use.
They wore little underclothing—scarcely anything—or no-thing—
And their dress of Coan silk was quite transparent in design—
Well, in fact, in summer weather, something like the “altogether.”
And it's there, I rather fancy, I shall have to draw the line!
(Confidentially to audience.)
And again I wish to mention
That this erudition sham
Is but classical pretension,
The result of steady “cram.”
You may classic love aggressive
(If you'll pardon the possessive)
Is exceeding impressive
When you're passing an exam.
Chorus.
Let his classic love, etc.
[Exeunt Chorus. Manent Ludwig, Julia, and Lisa.
Lud.
(recit.).
Yes, Ludwig and his Julia are mated!
For when an obscure comedian, whom the law backs,
To sovereign rank is promptly elevated,
He takes it with its incidental drawbacks!
So Julia and I are duly mated!
[Lisa, through this, has expressed intense distress at having to surrender Ludwig.
Song.—Lisa.
Take care of him—he's much too good to live,
With him you must be very gentle:
Poor fellow, he's so highly sensitive,
And O, so sentimental!
Be sure you never let him sit up late
In chilly open air conversing—
Poor darling, he's extremely delicate,
And wants a deal of nursing!
Lud.
I want a deal of nursing!
Lisa.
And O, remember this—
When he is cross with pain,
A flower and a kiss—
A simple flower—a tender kiss!
Will bring him round again!
His moods you must assiduously watch:
When he succumbs to sorrow tragic,
Some hardbake or a bit of butter-scotch
Will work on him like magic.
To contradict a character so rich
In trusting love were simple blindness—
He's one of those exalted natures which
Will only yield to kindness!
I only yield to kindness!
Lisa.
And O, the bygone bliss!
And O, the present pain!
That flower and that kiss—
That simple flower—that tender kiss
I ne'er shall give again!
Julia.
And now that everybody has gone, and we're happily
and comfortably married, I want to have a few words with my
new-born husband.
Lud.
(aside).
Yes, I expect you'll often have a few words with
your new-born husband!
(Aloud.)
Well, what is it?
Julia.
Why, I've been thinking that as you and I have to
play our parts for life, it is most essential that we should come
to a definite understanding as to how they shall be rendered.
Now, I've been considering how I can make the most of the
Grand Duchess.
Lud.
Have you? Well, if you'll take my advice, you'll
make a very fine part of it.
Julia.
Why, that's quite my idea.
Lud.
I shouldn't make it one of your hoity-toity vixenish
viragos.
Julia.
You think not?
Lud.
Oh, I'm quite clear about that. I should make her a
tender, gentle, submissive, affectionate (but not too affectionate)
child-wife—timidly anxious to coil herself into her husband's
heart, but kept in check by an awestruck reverence for his exalted
intellectual qualities and his majestic personal appearance.
Julia.
Oh, that is your idea of a good part?
Lud.
Yes—a wife who regards her husband's slightest wish
as an inflexible law, and who ventures but rarely into his august
presence, unless (which would happen seldom) he should
summon her to appear before him. A crushed, despairing
violet, whose blighted existence would culminate (all too soon)
in a lonely pathetic death-scene! A fine part, my dear.
Julia.
Yes. There's a good deal to be said for your view of
it. Now there are some actresses whom it would fit like a
glove.
Lud.
(aside).
I wish I'd married one of 'em!
Julia.
But, you see, I must consider my temperament. For
instance, my temperament would demand some strong scenes of
justifiable jealousy.
Lud.
Oh, there's no difficulty about that. You shall have
them.
Julia.
What a lovely but detested rival—
Oh, I'll provide the rival.
Julia.
Whom I should stab—stab—stab!
Lud.
Oh, I wouldn't stab her. It's been done to death. I
should treat her with a silent and contemptuous disdain, and
delicately withdraw from a position which, to one of your
sensitive nature, would be absolutely untenable. Dear me, I
can see you delicately withdrawing, up centre and off!
Julia.
Can you?
Lud.
Yes. It's a fine situation—and in your hands, full of
quiet pathos!
Duet.—Ludwig and Julia.
Lud.
Now Julia, come,
Consider it from
This dainty point of view—
A timid tender
Feminine gender,
Prompt to coyly coo—
Yet silence seeking,
Seldom speaking
Till she's spoken to—
A comfy, cosy,
Rosy posy
Innocent ingenoo!
The part you're suited to—
(To give the deuce her due)
A sweet (O, jiminy!)
Miminy-piminy
Innocent ingenoo!
Ensemble.
Lud.
The part you're suited to—
(To give the deuce her due)
A sweet (O, jiminy!)
Miminy-piminy,
Innocent ingenoo!
Julia.
I'm much obliged to you,
I don't think that would do—
To play (O, jiminy!)
Miminy-piminy,
Innocent ingenoo!
Julia.
You forget my special magic
(In a high dramatic sense)
Lies in situations tragic—
Undoubtedly intense.
As I've justified promotion
In the histrionic art,
I'll submit to you my notion
Of a first-rate part.
Lud.
Well, let us see your notion
Of a first-rate part.
Julia
(dramatically).
I have a rival! Frenzy thrilled,
I find you both together!
My heart stands still—with horror chilled—
Hard as the millstone nether!
Crawly, creepy, quaily, quaky—
I track her on her homeward way,
As panther tracks her fated prey!
(Furiously.)
I fly at her soft white throat—
The lily-white laughing leman!
On her agonizing gaze I gloat
With the glee of a dancing demon!
My rival the—I have no doubt of her—
So I hold on—till the breath is out of her!
—till the breath is out of her!
And then—Remorse! Remorse!
O cold unpleasant corse,
Avaunt! Avaunt!
That lifeless form
I gaze upon—
That face, still warm
But weirdly wan—
Those eyes of glass
I contemplate—
And then, alas,
Too late—too late!
I find she is—your Aunt!
(Shuddering.)
Remorse! Remorse!
Then, mad—mad—mad!
With fancies wild—chimerical—
Now sorrowful—silent—sad—
Now, hullaballoo hysterical!
Ha! ha! ha! ha!
But whether I'm sad or whether I'm glad,
Mad! mad! mad! mad!
This calls for the resources of a high-class art,
And satisfies my notion of a first-rate part!
[Exit Julia.
Enter all the Chorus, hurriedly, and in great excitement.
Chorus.
Your Highness, there's a party at the door—
Your Highness, at the door there is a party—
She says that we expect her,
But we do not recollect her,
For we never saw her countenance before!
With rage and indignation she is rife,
Because our welcome wasn't very hearty—
She's as sulky as a super,
And she's swearing like a trooper,
O, you never heard such language in your life!
Enter Baroness von Krakenfeldt, in a fury.
Bar.
With fury indescribable I burn!
With rage I'm nearly ready to explode!
There'll be grief and tribulation when I learn
To whom this slight unbearable is owed!
There'll be terror indescribable and trouble!
With a hurly-burly and a hubble-bubble
I'll pay you for this pretty episode!
All.
Oh, whatever may be due she'll pay it double!—
It's very good of her to take the trouble—
But we don't know what she means by “hubble-bubble”—
No doubt it's an expression à la mode.
Bar.
(to Ludwig).
Do you know who I am?
Lud.
(examining her).
I don't;
Your countenance I can't fix, my dear.
Bar.
This proves I'm not a sham.
(Showing pocket-handkerchief.)
Lud.
(examining it).
It won't;
It only says “Krakenfeldt, Six,” my dear.
Bar.
Express your grief profound!
Lud.
I shan't!
This tone I never allow, my love.
Bar.
Rudolph at once produce!
Lud.
I can't;
He isn't at home just now, my love!
Bar.
(astonished).
He isn't at home just now!
All.
He isn't at home just now,
(dancing derisively)
He has an appointment particular very—
You'll find him, I think, in the town cemetery;
And that's how we come to be making so merry,
For he isn't at home just now!
Bar.
But bless my heart and soul alive, it's impudence personified!
I've come here to be matrimonially matrimonified!
Lud.
For any disappointment I am sorry unaffectedly,
But yesterday that nobleman expired quite unexpectedly—
All
(sobbing).
Tol the riddle lo!
Tol the riddle lo!
Tol the riddle, lol the riddle, lol lol lay!
(Then laughing wildly.)
Tol the riddle, lol the riddle, lol lol lay!
Bar.
But this is most unexpected. He was well enough at a
quarter to twelve yesterday.
Lud.
Yes. He died at half-past eleven.
Bar.
Bless me, how very sudden!
Lud.
It was sudden.
Bar.
But what in the world am I to do? I was to have
been married to him to-day!
All
(singing and dancing).
For any disappointment we are sorry unaffectedly,
But yesterday that nobleman expired quite unexpectedly—
Tol the riddle lol!
Bar.
Is this Court Mourning or a Fancy Ball?
Lud.
Well, it's a delicate combination of both effects. It is
intended to express inconsolable grief for the decease of the late
his successor. Permit me to present you to my Grand Duchess.
(Indicating Julia.)
Bar.
Your Grand Duchess? Oh, your Highness!
(Curtesying
profoundly.)
Julia.
(sneering at her).
Old frump!
Bar.
Humph! A recent creation, probably?
Lud.
We were married only half-an-hour ago.
Bar.
Exactly. I thought she seemed new to the position.
Julia.
Ma'am, I don't know who you are, but I flatter myself
I can do justice to any part on the very shortest notice.
Bar.
My dear, under the circumstances you are doing admirably
—and you'll improve with practice. It's so difficult to be a lady
when one isn't born to it.
Julia
(in a rage, to Ludwig).
Am I to stand this? Am I
not to be allowed to pull her to pieces?
Lud.
(aside to Julia).
No, no—it isn't Greek. Be a violet,
I beg.
Bar.
And now tell me all about this distressing circumstance.
How did the Grand Duke die?
Lud.
He perished nobly—in a Statutory Duel.
Bar.
In a Statutory Duel? But that's only a civil death!—
and the Act expires to-night, and then he will come to life
again!
Lud.
Well, no. Anxious to inaugurate my reign by conferring
some inestimable boon on my people, I signalized this
occasion by reviving the law for another hundred years.
Bar.
For another hundred years? Then set the merry joybells
ringing! Let festive epithalamia resound through these
ancient halls! Cut the satisfying sandwich—broach the exhilating
Marsala—and let us rejoice to-day, if we never rejoice
again!
Lud.
But I don't think I quite understand. We have already
rejoiced a good deal.
Bar.
Happy man, you little reck of the extent of the good
things you are in for. When you killed Rudolph you adopted
all his overwhelming responsibilities. Know then that I,
Caroline von Krakenfeldt, am the most overwhelming of
them all!
Lud.
But stop, stop—I've just been married to somebody
else!
Julia.
Yes, ma'am, to somebody else, ma'am! Do you understand,
ma'am? To somebody else!
Bar.
Do keep this young woman quiet; she fidgets me!
Julia.
Fidgets you!
(aside to Julia).
Be a violet—a crushed, despairing
violet.
Julia.
Do you suppose I intend to give up a magnificent part
without a struggle?
Lud.
My good girl, she has the law on her side. Let us both
bear this calamity with resignation. If you must struggle,
go away and struggle in the seclusion of your chamber.
Chorus.
Now away to the wedding we go,
So summon the charioteers—
No kind of reluctance they show
To embark on their married careers.
Though Julia's emotion may flow
For the rest of her maidenly years,
To the wedding we eagerly go,
So summon the charioteers!
Now away, &c.
[All dance off to wedding except Julia.
Recit.— Julia.
So ends my dream—so fades my vision fair!
Of hope no gleam—distraction and despair!
My cherished dreams, the Ducal throne to share,
That aim supreme has vanished into air!
Song.—Julia.
All is darksome—all is dreary.
Every new-born hope is blighted!
Sad and sorry—weak and weary!
Death the Friend or Death the Foe,
Shall I call upon thee? No!
I will go on living, though
Sad and sorry—weak and weary!
No good ever came of repining:
If to-day there are clouds o'er the sky,
To-morrow the sun may be shining!
To-morrow, be kind,
To-morrow, to me!
With loyalty blind
I curtsey to thee!
To-day is a day of illusion and sorrow,
So viva To-morrow, To-morrow, To-morrow!
God save you, To-morrow!
Your servant, To-morrow!
God save you, To-morrow, To-morrow, To-morrow!
[Exit Julia.
Ern.
It's of no use—I can't wait any longer. At any risk I
must gratify my urgent desire to know what is going on.
(Looking
off.)
Why, what's that? Surely I see a wedding procession
winding down the hill, dressed in my Troilus and Cressida
costumes! That's Ludwig's doing! I see how it is—he found
the time hang heavy on his hands, and is amusing himself by
getting married to Lisa. No—it can't be to Lisa, for here
she is!
Enter Lisa.
Lisa
(not seeing him).
I really cannot stand seeing my
Ludwig married twice in one day to somebody else!
Ern.
Lisa!
[Lisa sees him, and stands as if transfixed with horror
Ern.
Come here—don't be a little fool—I want you.
[Lisa suddenly turns and bolts off
Ern.
Why, what's the matter with the little donkey? One
would think she saw a ghost! But if he's not marrying Lisa,
whom is he marrying?
(Suddenly.)
Julia!
(Much overcome.)
I see it all! The scoundrel! He had to adopt all my responsibilities,
and he's shabbily taken advantage of the situation to
marry the girl I'm engaged to! But no, it can't be Julia, for
here she is!
Enter Julia.
Julia
(not seeing him).
I've made up my mind. I won't
stand it! I'll send in my notice at once!
Ern.
Julia! Oh, what a relief!
[Julia gazes at him as if transfixed.
Ern.
Then you've not married Ludwig? You are still true
to me?
[Julia turns and bolts in grotesque horror. Ernest follows and stops her.
Ern.
Don't run away! Listen to me. Are you all crazy?
Julia
(in affected terror).
What would you with me, spectre?
Oh, ain't his eyes sepulchral! And ain't his voice hollow! What
are you doing out of your tomb at this time of day—apparition?
Ern.
I do wish I could make you girls understand that I'm
only technically dead, and that physically I'm as much alive as
ever I was in my life!
Julia.
Oh, but it's an awful thing to be haunted by a technical
bogie!
Ern.
You won't be haunted much longer. The law must be
on its last legs, and in a few hours I shall come to life again—
as my blushing bride!
Julia.
Oh—then you haven't heard?
Ern.
My love, I heard nothing. How could I? There are
no daily papers where I come from.
Julia.
Why, Ludwig challenged Rudolph and won, and now
he's Grand Duke, and he's revived the law for another century!
Ern.
What! But you're not serious—you're only joking!
Julia.
My good sir, I'm a light-hearted girl, but I don't chaff
bogies.
Ern.
Well, that's the meanest dodge I ever heard of!
Julia.
Shabby trick, I call it.
Ern.
But you don't mean to say that you're going to cry off!
Julia.
I really can't afford to wait until your time is up.
You know, I've always set my face against long engagements.
Ern.
Then defy the law and marry me now. We will fly to
your native country, and I'll play broken-English in London as
you play broken-German here!
Julia.
No. These legal technicalities cannot be defied.
Situated as you are, you have no power to make me your wife.
At best you could only make me your widow.
Ern.
Then be my widow—my little, dainty, winning, winsome
widow!
Julia.
Now what would be the good of that? Why, you
goose! I should marry again within a month!
Duet.—Ernest and Julia.
Ern.
If the light of love's lingering ember
Has faded in gloom,
You cannot neglect, O remember,
A voice from the tomb!
That stern supernatural diction
Should act as a solemn restriction,
Although by a mere legal fiction
A voice from the tomb!
Julia
(in affected terror).
It withers my bloom!
With awful emotion it thrills me—
That voice from the tomb!
Oh, spectre, won't anything lay thee?
Though pained to deny or gainsay thee,
In this case I cannot obey thee,
Thou voice from the tomb!
I bid you good-day—
Perhaps you'll be calling
When passing this way.
And all your love-lorning,
I bid you good-morning,
I bid you good-day.
Ern.
(furious).
My offer recalling,
Your words I obey—
Your fate is appalling,
And full of dismay.
To pay for this scorning
I give you fair warning
I'll haunt you each morning,
Each night, and each day!
[Repeat Ensemble, and exeunt in opposite directions.
Re-enter the Wedding Procession dancing.
Chorus.
Now bridegroom and bride let us toast
In a magnum of merry champagne—
Let us make of this moment the most,
We may not be so lucky again.
So drink to our sovereign host
And his highly intelligent reign—
His health and his bride's let us toast
In a magnum of merry champagne!
[March heard.
Lud.
(recit.).
Why, who is this approaching,
Upon our joy encroaching?
Some rascal come a-poaching
Who's heard that wine we're broaching?
All.
Who may this be?
Who may this be?
Who is he? Who is he? Who is he?
Enter Herald.
Her.
The Prince of Monte Carlo,
From Mediterranean water,
Has come here to bestow
On you his beautiful daughter,
They've paid off all they owe,
As every statesman oughter—
That Prince of Monte Carlo
And his be-eutiful daughter!
Chorus.
The Prince of Monte Carlo, &c.
Her.
The Prince of Monte Carlo,
Who is so very partickler,
Has heard that you're also
For ceremony a stickler—
By word of mouth auric'lar—
(That Prince of Monte Carlo
Who is so very particklar)—
Chorus.
The Prince of Monte Carlo, &c.
Her.
That Prince of Monte Carlo,
From Mediterranean water,
Has come here to bestow
On you his be-eutiful daughter!
Lud.
(recit.).
His Highness we know not—nor the locality
In which is situate his Principality;
But, as he guesses by some odd fatality,
This is the shop for cut and dried formality!
Let him appear—
He'll find that we're
Remarkable for cut and dried formality.
[Reprise of March. Exit Herald. Ludwig beckons his Court.
Lud.
I have a plan—I'll tell you all the plot of it—
He wants formality—he shall have a lot of it!
[Whispers to them, through symphony.
Conceal yourselves, and when I give the cue,
Spring out on him—you all know what to do!
[All conceal themselves behind the draperies that enclose the stage.
Pompous March. Enter the Prince and Princess of Monte Carlo, attended by six theatrical-looking nobles and the Court Costumier.
Duet.—Prince and Princess.
Prince.
We're rigged out in magnificent array
(Our own clothes are much gloomier)
In costumes which we've hired by the day
From a very well-known costumier.
Cost.
(bowing).
I am the well-known costumier.
Princess.
With a brilliant staff a Prince should make a show
(It's a rule that never varies),
So we've engaged from the Theatre Monaco
Six supernumeraries.
Nobles.
We're the supernumeraries.
All.
At a salary immense,
Quite regardless of expense,
Six supernumeraries!
Prince.
They do not speak, for they break our grammar's laws,
And their language is lamentable—
And they never take off their gloves, because
Their nails are not presentable.
Nobles.
Our nails are not presentable!
To account for their shortcomings manifest
We explain, in a whisper bated,
They are wealthy members of the brewing interest
To the Peerage elevated.
Nobles.
To the Peerage elevated.
All.
They're/We're very, very rich,
And accordingly, as sich,
To the Peerage elevated.
Prince.
Well, my dear, here we are at last—just in time to
compel Duke Rudolph to fulfil the terms of his marriage
contract. Another hour and we should have been too late.
Princess.
Yes, papa, and if you hadn't fortunately discovered
a means of making an income by honest industry, we should
never have got here at all.
Prince.
Very true. Confined for the last two years within
the precincts of my palace by an obdurate bootmaker who held
a warrant for my arrest, I devoted my enforced leisure to a study
of the doctrine of chances—mainly with the view of ascertaining
whether there was the remotest chance of my ever going out
for a walk again—and this led to the discovery of a singularly
fascinating little round game which I have called Roulette, and
by which, in one sitting, I won no less than five thousand francs!
My first act was to pay my bootmaker—my second, to engage a
good useful working set of second-hand nobles—and my third,
to hurry you off to Pfennig Halbpfennig as fast as a train de
luxe could carry us!
Princess.
Yes, and a pretty job-lot of second-hand nobles
you've scraped together!
Prince
(doubtfully).
Pretty, you think? Humph! I don't
know. I should say tol-lol, my love—only tol-lol. They are
not wholly satisfactory. There is a certain air of unreality
about them—they are not convincing.
Cost.
But, my goot friend, vhat can you expect for eighteen-pence
a day!
Prince.
Now take this Peer, for instance. What the deuce
do you call him?
Cost.
Him? Oh, he's a swell—he's the Duke of Riviera.
Prince.
Oh, he's a Duke, is he? Well, that's no reason why
he should look so confoundedly haughty.
(To Noble.)
Be
affable, sir!
(Noble takes attitude of affability.)
That's better.
(Passing to another.)
Now, who's this with his moustache
coming off?
Cost.
Why, you're Viscount Mentone, ain't you?
Noble.
Blest if I know.
(Turning up sword belt.)
It's wrote
here—yes, Viscount Mentone.
Then vhy don't you say so? 'Old yerself up—you
ain't carryin' sandwich boards now.
[Adjusts his moustache.
Prince.
Now, once for all, you Peers—when His Highness
arrives, don't stand like sticks, but appear to take an intelligent
and sympathetic interest in what is going on. You needn't
say anything, but let your gestures be in accordance with the
spirit of the conversation. Now take the word from me.
Affability!
(attitude).
Submission!
(attitude).
Surprise!
(attitude).
Shame!
(attitude).
Grief!
(attitude).
Joy!
(attitude).
That's better! You can do it if you like!
Princess.
But, papa, where in the world is the Court? There
is positively no one here to receive us! I can't help feeling that
Rudolph wants to get out of it because I'm poor. He's a miserly
little wretch—that's what he is.
Prince.
Well, I shouldn't go so far as to say that. I should
rather describe him as an enthusiastic collector of coins—of the
realm—and we must not be too hard upon a numismatist if he
feels a certain disinclination to part with some of his really very
valuable specimens. It's a pretty hobby: I've often thought I
should like to collect some coins myself.
Princess.
Papa, I'm sure there's some one behind that curtain.
I saw it move!
Prince.
Then no doubt they are coming. Now mind, you
Peers—haughty affability combined with a sense of what is due
to your exalted ranks, or I'll fine you half a franc each—upon
my soul, I will!
[Gong. The curtains fly back and the Court are discovered. They give a wild yell and rush on to the stage dancing wildly, with Prince, Princess, and Nobles, who are taken by surprise at first, but eventually join in a reckless dance. At the end all fall down exhausted.
Lud.
There, what do you think of that? That's our official
ceremonial for the reception of visitors of the very highest
distinction.
Prince
(puzzled).
It's very quaint—very curious indeed.
Prettily footed, too. Prettily footed.
Lud.
Would you like to see how we say “good-bye” to visitors
of distinction? That ceremony is also performed with the foot.
Prince.
Really, this tone—ah, but perhaps you have not
completely grasped the situation?
Lud.
Not altogether.
Prince.
Ah, then I'll give you a lead over.
(Significantly.)
I am the father of the Princess of Monte Carlo. Doesn't that
convey any idea to the Grand Ducal mind?
(stolidly).
Nothing definite.
Prince
(aside).
H'm—very odd! Never mind—try again!
(Aloud.)
This is the daughter of the Prince of Monte Carlo.
Do you take?
Lud.
(still puzzled).
No—not yet. Go on—don't give it up
—I daresay it will come presently.
Prince.
Very odd—never mind—try again.
(With sly significance.)
Twenty years ago! Little doddle doddle! Two
little doddle doddles! Happy father—hers and yours. Proud
mother—yours and hers! Hah! Now you take? I see you
do! I see you do!
Lud.
Nothing is more annoying than to feel that you're not
equal to the intellectual pressure of the conversation. I wish
he'd say something intelligible.
Prince.
You didn't expect me?
Lud.
(jumping at it.)
No, no. I grasp that—thank you very
much.
(Shaking hands with him.)
No, I did not expect you!
Prince.
I thought not. But ha! ha! at last I have escaped
from my enforced restraint.
(General movement of alarm.)
(To
crowd who are stealing off.)
No, no—you misunderstand me.
I mean I've paid my debts!
All.
Oh!
(They return.)
Princess
(affectionately).
But, my darling, I'm afraid that
even now you don't quite realize who I am!
(Embracing him.)
Baroness.
Why, you forward little hussy, how dare you?
[Takes her away from Ludwig.
Lud.
You mustn't do that, my dear—never in the presence of
the Grand Duchess, I beg!
Princess
(weeping).
Oh, papa, he's got a Grand Duchess!
Lud.
A Grand Duchess! My good girl, I've got three Grand
Duchesses!
Princess.
Well, I'm sure! Papa, let's go away—this is not a
respectable Court.
Prince.
All these Grand Dukes have their little fancies, my
love. This potentate appears to be collecting wives. It's a
pretty hobby—I should like to collect a few myself. This
(admiring Baroness)
is a charming specimen—an antique, I
should say—of the early Merovingian period, if I'm not mistaken;
and here's another—a Scotch lady, I think
(alluding to
Julia)
,
and
(alluding to Lisa)
a little one thrown in. Two
half-quarterns and a makeweight!
(To Ludwig.)
Have you
such a thing as a catalogue of the Museum?
Princess.
But I cannot permit Rudolph to keep a museum—
Lud.
Rudolph? Get along with you, I'm not Rudolph!
Rudolph died yesterday!
What!
Lud.
Quite suddenly—of—of a cardiac affection.
Prince and Princess.
Of a cardiac affection?
Lud.
Yes, a pack-of-cardiac affection. He fought a Statutory
Duel with me and lost, and I took over all his engagements—
including this imperfectly preserved old lady, to whom he has
been engaged for the last three weeks.
Princess.
Three weeks! But I've been engaged to him for
the last twenty years!
Baroness, Lisa, and Julia.
Twenty years!
Prince
(aside).
It's all right, my love—they can't get over
that.
(Aloud.)
He's yours—take him, and hold him as tight
as you can!
Princess.
My own!
(Embracing Ludwig.)
Lud.
Here's another!—the fourth in four-and-twenty hours!
Would anybody else like to marry me? You, ma'am—or you—
anybody! I'm getting used to it!
Baroness.
But let me tell you, ma'am—
Julia.
Why, you impudent little hussy—
Lisa.
Oh, here's another—here's another!
(Weeping.)
Princess.
Poor ladies, I'm very sorry for you all; but, you
see, I've a prior claim. Come, away we go—there's not a
moment to be lost!
Chorus
(as they dance towards exit).
Away to the wedding we'll go
To summon the charioteers,
Though her rival's emotion may flow
In the form of impetuous tears—
[At this moment Rudolph, Ernest, and Notary appear. All kneel in astonishment.
Recitative.
Rud., Ern., and Not.
Forbear! This may not be!
Frustrated are your plans!
With paramount decree
The Law forbids the banns!
All.
The Law forbids the banns!
Lud.
Not a bit of it! I've revived the Law for another
century!
Rud.
You didn't revive it! You couldn't revive it! You—
you are an impostor, sir—a tuppenny rogue, sir! You—you
never were, and in all human probability never will be—Grand
Duke of Pfennig Anything!
All.
What!!!
Never—never, never!
(Aside.)
Oh, my internal
economy!
Lud.
That's absurd, you know. I fought the Grand Duke.
He drew a King, and I drew an Ace. He perished in inconceivable
agonies on the spot. Now, as that's settled, we'll go on
with the wedding.
Rud.
It—it isn't settled. You—you can't. I—I—
(to Notary)
Oh, tell him—tell him! I can't!
Not.
Well, the fact is, there's been a little mistake here. On
reference to the Act that regulates Statutory Duels, I find it is
expressly laid down that Ace shall count invariably as lowest!
All.
As lowest!
Rud.
(breathlessly).
As lowest—lowest—lowest! So you're
the ghoest—ghoest—ghoest!
(Aside.)
Oh, what is the matter
with me inside here!
Ern.
Well, Julia, as it seems that the Law hasn't been
revived—and as, consequently, I shall come to life in about
three minutes—
(consulting his watch)
—
Julia.
My objection falls to the ground.
(Resignedly.)
Very well!
Princess.
And am I to understand that I was on the point of
marrying a dead man without knowing it?
(To Rudolph,
who revives.)
Oh, my love, what a narrow escape I've had!
Rud.
Oh—you are the Princess of Monte Carlo, and you've
turned up just in time! Well, you're an attractive little girl,
you know, but you're as poor as a rat!
[They retire up together.
Lisa.
That's all very well, but what is to become of me?
(To Ludwig.)
If you're a dead man—
[Clock strikes three.
Lud.
But I'm not. Time's up—the Act has expired—I've
come to life—the parson is still in attendance, and we'll all be
married directly.
All.
Hurrah!
Finale.
[All.]
Happy couples, lightly treading,
Castle chapel will be quite full!
Each shall have a pretty wedding,
As, of course, is only rightful,
Though the bride be fair or frightful.
Contradiction little dreading,
This will be a day delightful—
Each shall have a pretty wedding!
Such a pretty, pretty wedding!
Such a pretty wedding!
[All dance off to get married as the curtain falls.
| The Grand Duke ; Or, The Statutory Duel | |