 | The Sorcerer |  |
ACT I.
Scene.—Garden of Sir Marmaduke's Elizabethan mansion. The end of a large marquee, open, and showing portion of table covered with white cloth, on which are joints of meat, teapots, cups, bread and butter, jam, etc. To the back a raised terrace with steps. A park in the background, with spire of church seen above the trees.With clarion sound—
Forget your knells,
For joys abound.
Forget your notes
Of mournful lay,
And from your throats
Pour joy to-day.
Is betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,
And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her,
At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!
[At the end of chorus, exeunt the Men into house.
Enter Mrs. Partlet, meeting Constance, her daughter.
Recitative.
Mrs. P.
Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?
The village rings with seasonable joy,
Because the young and amiable Alexis,
Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,
Is plighted to Aline, the only daughter
Of Annabella, Lady Sangazure.
You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;
What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!
Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexion
From red to white should change in quick succession—
And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!
If my poor limbs shall tremble with emotion,
Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!
If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,
Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne'er be known!
Mrs. P.
My child, be candid; think not to deceive
The eagle-eyed pew-opener—you love!
Con.
(aside).
How guessed she that, my heart's most cherished secret?
(Aloud.)
I do love, fondly—madly—hopelessly!
Aria.—Constance.
When he is here,
I sigh with pleasure;
When he is gone,
I sigh with grief.
My hopeless fear
No soul can measure;
His love alone
Can give my aching heart relief!
When he is cold,
I weep for sorrow;
When he is kind,
I weep for joy.
My grief untold
Knows no to-morrow.
My woe can find
No hope, no solace, no alloy!
Mrs. P.
Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear—
I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!
Who is the object of your young affections?
Con.
Hush, mother! He is here!
Enter Dr. Daly. He is pensive, and does not see them. He sits on stool.
Mrs. P.
(amazed).
Our reverend vicar!
Con.
Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!
Mrs. P.
My child, be comforted. To such an union
I shall not offer any opposition.
Take him—he's yours! May you and he be happy!
Con.
But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!
Mrs. P.
That's true, indeed!
Con.
He might object!
Mrs. P.
He might.
But come; take heart. I'll probe him on the subject.
Be comforted; leave this affair to me.
Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays.
Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers
The aching memory of the old, old days?
Time was when we walked ever hand in hand,
A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted—
None better loved than I in all the land!
Time was when maidens of the noblest station,
Forsaking even military men,
Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration.
Ah me! I was a fair young curate then!
Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;
Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;
And when I coughed all thought the end was near.
I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o'er me;
For I was loved beyond all other men.
Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.
Ah me! I was a pale young curate then!
[At the conclusion of the ballad, Mrs. Partlet comes forward with Constance.
Mrs. P.
Good day, reverend sir.
Dr. D.
Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And
your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little
woman, I declare!
Con.
(aside).
Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!
Mrs. P.
Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as good
a girl as ever stepped.
(Aside to Dr. D.)
Ah, sir, I'm afraid
I shall soon lose her!
Dr. D.
(aside to Mrs. P.).
Dear me! you pain me very much.
Is she delicate?
Mrs. P.
Oh no, sir; I don't mean that; but young girls look
to get married.
Dr. D.
Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there's plenty of
time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or
five years hence. But when the time does come, I shall have
much pleasure in marrying her myself—
Con.
(aside).
Oh, mother!
Dr. D.
To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of
life.
Con.
(in tears).
He does not love me!
I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you'll excuse
the liberty), that you have never married.
Dr. D.
(aside).
Be still, my fluttering heart!
Mrs. P.
A clergyman's wife does so much good in a village.
Besides that, you are not so young as you were, and before very
long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your
little comforts.
Dr. D.
Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say. I
am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer
my declining days. Time was when it might have been; but
I have left it too long. I am an old fogey now, am I not, my
dear?
(to Constance)
—a very old fogey, indeed. Ha! ha! No,
Mrs. Partlet, my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a
solitary old bachelor.
Con.
Oh, mother, mother!
(Sobs on Mrs. Partlet's bosom.)
Mrs. P.
Come, come, dear one, don't fret. At a more fitting
time we will try again—we will try again.
[Exeunt Mrs. Partlet and Constance.
Dr. D.
(looking after them).
Poor little girl! I'm afraid she
has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was
when this old heart would have throbbed in double time at the
sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here
come the young Alexis, with his proud and happy father. Let
me dry this tell-tale tear!
Enter Sir Marmaduke and Alexis from house.
Recitative.
Dr. D.
Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—
On this most happy, most auspicious plighting,
Permit me, as a true old friend, to tender
My best, my very best congratulations!
Sir M.
Sir, you are most obleeging!
Alex.
Dr. Daly,
My dear old tutor and my valued pastor,
I thank you from the bottom of my heart!
(Spoken through music.)
Dr. D.
May fortune bless you! may the middle distance
Of your young life be pleasant as the foreground—
The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,
May that which now is the far-off horizon,
But which will then become the middle distance,
In fruitful promise be exceeded only
By that which will have opened, in the mean time,
Into a new and glorious horizon!
Dear sir, that is an excellent example
Of an old school of stately compliment,
To which I have, through life, been much addicted.
Will you obleege me with a copy of it,
In clerkly manuscript, that I myself
May use it on appropriate occasions?
Dr. D.
Sir, you shall have a fairly written copy
Ere Sol has sunk into his western slumbers!
[Exit Dr. Daly.
Sir M.
(to Alexis, who is in a reverie).
Come, come, my
son—your fiancée will be here in five minutes. Rouse yourself
to receive her.
Alex.
(rising).
Oh, rapture!
Sir M.
Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will not
disguise from you that this union with the house of Sangazure
realizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of a
sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and thirty-seventh
in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, there was
a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair with Paris—
but where is the family, other than my own, in which there is
no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow!
Alex.
Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No
sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love,
upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into
eternity!
Sir M.
Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young lady
you do not speak so openly. You are always singing ballads in
praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait
behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate.
Alex.
Father, a man who loves as I love—
Sir M.
Pooh, pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your
future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason
to believe that she returned my love. But were we guilty of
the indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other's arms, exclaiming—
“Ecstatic rapture!” “Unmingled joy!”
which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making? No,
it was, “Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good
health.”—“Sir, you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty
well”—and so forth. Much more delicate—much more respectful.
But see—Aline approaches; let us retire, that she
is to play so important a part.
[Exeunt Sir Marmaduke into house.
Enter Aline, preceded by Chorus of Girls.
Chorus of Girls.
Let us welcome this mating:
To the youth of her choice,
With a heart palpitating,
Comes the lovely Aline!
May their bliss be unbounded!
With a halo of joy
May their lives be surrounded!
Heaven bless our Aline!
Recitative.—Aline.
And as you wish me every earthly joy,
I trust your wishes may have quick fulfilment!
Comes thy young lord a-wooing,
With joy in his eyes,
And pride in his breast.
Make much of thy prize,
For he is the best
That ever came a-suing.
Yet—yet we must part,
Young heart!
Yet—yet we must part.
Bright are the days of thy wooing!
But happier far
The days untried.
No sorrow can mar
When Love has tied
The knot there's no undoing.
Then, never to part,
Young heart!
Then, never to part!
Recitative.—Lady S.
My child, I join in these congratulations.
Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!
Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow,
'Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!
Enter Alexis from house, preceded by Chorus of Men.
Chorus of Men and Women.
With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating:
To the maid of his choice,
With a heart palpitating,
Comes Alexis the brave!
Sir Marmaduke enters from house. Lady Sangazure and he exhibit signs of strong emotion at the sight of each other, which they endeavour to repress; Alexis and Aline rush into each other's arms.
Recitative.
Alex.
Oh, my adored one!
Ali.
Beloved boy!
Alex.
Ecstatic rapture!
Ali.
Unmingled joy!
Duet.—Sir Marmaduke and Lady Sangazure.
Sir M.
(with stately courtesy).
Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!
As Aurora gilds the day,
So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,
Chase the clouds of care away.
Irresistible incentive
Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
I'm your servant most attentive,
Most attentive to command.
(Aside, with frantic vehemence.)
Wild with adoration!
Mad with fascination!
To indulge my lamentation
No occasion do I miss!
Goaded to distraction
By maddening inaction,
I find some satisfaction
In apostrophe like this:
Sangazure divine,
Welcome to my portal,
Angel, oh, be mine!”
(Aloud with much ceremony.)
Irresistible incentive
Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
I'm your servant most attentive,
Most attentive to command!
Lady S.
Sir, I thank you most politely
For your graceful courtesee:
Compliment more true knightly
Never yet was paid to me!
Chivalry is an ingredient
Sadly lacking in our land.
Sir, I am your most obedient,
Most obedient to command!
(Aside, with great vehemence.)
Wild with adoration!
Mad with fascination!
To indulge my lamentation
No occasion do I miss!
Goaded to distraction
By maddening inaction,
I find some satisfaction
In apostrophe like this:
“Marmaduke immortal,
Marmaduke divine,
Take me to thy portal,
Loved one, oh, be mine!”
(Aloud, with much ceremony.)
Chivalry is an ingredient
Sadly lacking in our land.
Sir, I am your most obedient,
Most obedient to command!
[During this duet a small table has been placed upon stage, by Mrs. Partlet. The Counsel has entered, and prepares marriage contract behind table.
Recitative—Counsel.
All is prepared for sealing and for signing,
The contract has been drafted as agreed;
Approach the table, oh ye lovers pining,
With hand and seal come execute the deed!
[Alexis and Aline advance and sign, Alexis supported by Sir Marmaduke, Aline by her mother.
See they sign, without a quiver, it—
Then to seal proceed.
They deliver it—they deliver it
As their act and deed!
Alex.
I deliver it—I deliver it
As my act and deed!
Ali.
I deliver it—I deliver it
As my act and deed!
Chorus.
With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating:
Leave them here to rejoice,
With true love palpitating—
Alexis the brave,
And the lovely Aline!
[Exeunt all but Alexis and Aline.
Alex.
At last we are alone! My darling, you are now irrevocably
betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy?
Ali.
Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love you beyond
all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not
true love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of
every earthly joy?
Alex.
Of that there can be no doubt. Oh that the world
could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh that the
world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth,
education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize
the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the
panacea for every ill!
Ali.
Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will
succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness!
Alex.
I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but slowly.
Still I have made some converts to the principle, that men and
women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction of
rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics' Institutes,
and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my views. I
have preached in workhouses, beershops, and lunatic asylums,
and I have been received with enthusiasm. I have addressed
navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if they
married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented.
Ali.
Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold that
the uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what
do the countesses say?
Alex.
Why, at present, it can't be denied, the aristocracy hold
aloof.
The working man is the true Intelligence, after all!
Alex.
He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes,
Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should
be independent of external influences. It should live upon itself
and by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!
Ballad.
Alex.
Some love for rank, and some for duty;
Some give their hearts away for empty show,
And others love for youth and beauty.
To love for money all the world is prone;
Some love themselves, and live all lonely.
Give me the love that loves for love alone;
I love that love—I love it only!
Whose loving wife adores him duly?
Want, misery, and care may do their worst,
If loving woman loves you truly.
A lover's thoughts are ever with his own;
None truly loved is ever lonely.
Give me the love that loves for love alone;
I love that love—I love it only!
Ali.
Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!
Alex.
Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step in
support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W.
Wells and Co., the old-established family sorcerers, in St. Mary
Axe?
Ali.
I have seen their advertisement.
Alex.
They have invented a philtre, which, if report may be
believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute it through
the village, and within half an hour of my doing so, there will
not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the secret
of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that?
Ali.
Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing in
a house; quite indispensable in the present state of Thames
water; but still I don't quite see that it is the sort of thing
that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly joy.
Alex.
Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn't say a filter—I
said philtre.
Ali.
So did I, dear. I said a filter.
Alex.
No, dear, you said a filter. I don't mean a filter—I
mean a philtre,—ph, you know.
Ali.
(alarmed).
You don't mean a love-potion?
Alex.
On the contrary—I do mean a love-potion.
Oh, Alexis, I don't think it would be right. I don't
indeed. And then—a real magician! Oh, it would be downright
wicked.
Alex.
Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to steep the
whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple them in matrimony,
without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?
Ali.
Unquestionably, but—
Alex.
Then, unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to
supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in
deference to the great and good end I have in view.
(Calling.)
Hercules!
Enter a Page from tent.
Page.
Yes, sir.
Alex.
Is Mr. Wells there?
Page.
He's in the tent, sir—refreshing.
Alex.
Ask him to be so good as to step this way.
Page.
Yes, sir.
Ali.
Oh, but, Alexis! A real sorcerer! Oh, I shall be
frightened to death!
Alex.
I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the strong
right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.
Ali.
It's nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me with
your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family
Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could
turn round.
Alex.
He could change you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but
it is most unlikely that he would take such liberty. It's a most
respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of so
untradesmanlike an act.
Enter Mr. Wells from tent.
Mr. W.
Good day, sir.
[Aline much terrified.
Alex.
Good day. I believe you are a sorcerer.
Mr. W.
Yes, sir, we practise necromancy in all its branches.
We've a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods,
amulets, charms, and counter-charms. We can cast you a
nativity at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three and
six that we can guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing
a patent hag who comes out and prophesies disasters, with
spring complete, are strongly recommended. Our Aladdin
lamps are very chaste, and our prophetic tablets, foretelling
Turkish stock—are much inquired for. Our penny curse—one
of the cheapest things in the trade—is considered infallible.
We have some very superior blessings, too, but they're very
little asked for. We've only sold one since Christmas—to a
gentleman who bought it to send to his mother-in-law—but it
turned out that he was afflicted in the head, and it's been
returned on our hands. But our sale of penny curses, especially
on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can't turn 'em out fast
enough.
Song.—Mr. Wells.
I'm a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses,
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells.
If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax—
You've but to look in
On our resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe.
And for raising a posthumous shade
With effects that are comic or tragic,
There's no cheaper house in the trade.
Love-philtre—we've quantities of it!
And for knowledge if any one burns,
We keep an extremely small prophet
Who brings us unbounded returns:
With a wink of his eye,
Peep with security
Into futurity,
Sum up your history,
Clear up a mystery,
Humour proclivity
For a nativity—for a nativity;
Mirrors so magical,
Tetrapods tragical,
Bogies spectacular,
Answers oracular,
Facts astronomical,
Solemn or comical,
And, if you want it, he
Makes a reduction on taking a quantity!
If any one anything lacks,
If he'll only look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
Of ghosts,
And that without reflectors;
And creepy things
With wings,
And gaunt and grisly spectres.
He can fill you crowds
Of shrouds,
And horrify you vastly;
He can rack your brains
With chains,
And gibberings grim and ghastly!
Changes organity,
With an urbanity
Full of Satanity,
Vexes humanity
With an inanity
Fatal to vanity—
Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!
Barring tautology,
In demonology,
'Lectro-biology,
Mystic nosology,
Spirit philology,
High-class astrology,
Such is his knowledge, he
Isn't the man to require an apology!
My name is John Wellington Wells.
I'm a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses,
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells.
He'll find it all ready in stacks,
If he'll only look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
Alex.
I have sent for you to consult you on a very important
matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen Love-at-first-sight
Philtre?
Mr. W.
Sir, it is our leading article.
(Producing a phial.)
Now, I want to know if you can confidently guarantee
it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your advertisement?
Mr. W.
Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods.
Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection,
and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully
realized.
(Hurt.)
Ali.
(aside).
Oh, Alexis, don't offend him! He'll change us
into something dreadful—I know he will!
Alex.
I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to
distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this
village. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you
sell it?
Mr. W.
In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise
your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to
want it. We have it in four and a half and nine gallon casks—
also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct
10 per cent. for prompt cash.
Ali.
Oh, Alexis, surely you don't want to lay any down!
Alex.
Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a few
minutes. Go and fetch the teapot.
Ali.
But, Alexis—
Alex.
My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go and
fetch the teapot.
Ali.
(going).
I'm sure Dr. Daly would disapprove it.
[Exit Aline into tent.
Alex.
And how soon does it take effect?
Mr. W.
In half an hour. Whoever drinks of it falls in love,
as a matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also
tasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial will
prove the fact.
Enter Aline from tent with large teapot.
Alex.
Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you will
at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will suffice to
affect the whole village.
Ali.
But bless me, Alexis, many of the villagers are married
people.
Mr. W.
Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest
principles. On married people it has no effect whatever. But
are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you
through the fearful ordeal?
Alex.
In the good cause I fear nothing.
Very good; then we will proceed at once to the
Incantation.
(The stage grows dark.)
Incantation.
Mr. W.
Sprites of earth and air—
Fiends of flame and fire—
Demon souls,
Come here in shoals,
This dreadful deed inspire!
Appear, appear, appear!
Male Voices.
Good master, we are here!
Mr. W.
Noisome hags of night—
Imps of deadly shade—
Pallid ghosts,
Arise in hosts,
And lend me all your aid!
Appear, appear, appear!
Female Voices.
Good master, we are here!
Alex.
(aside).
Hark, they assemble,
These fiends of the night!
Ali.
(aside).
Oh, Alexis, I tremble.
Seek safety in flight!
Aria.—Aline.
Let us fly to a far-off land,
Where peace and plenty dwell—
Where the sigh of the silver strand
Is echoed in every shell.
To the joy that land will give,
On the wings of Love we'll fly;
In innocence there to live—
In innocence there to die!
Chorus of Spirits.
Too late—too late,
It may not be!
That happy fate
Is not for thee!
Alexis, Aline, and Mr. Wells.
Too late—too late,
That may not be!
That happy fate
Is not for me!/thee!
Mr. W.
Now, shrivelled hags, with poison bags,
Discharge your loathsome loads!
Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!
Belch forth your venom, toads!
Shed curses far afield—
Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight
In noisome plenty yield!
Mr. W.
(pouring phial into teapot—flash).
Number One!
Chorus.
It is done!
Mr. W.
(pouring phial into teapot—flash).
Number Two!
Chorus.
One too few!
Mr. W.
(pouring phial into teapot—flash).
Number Three!
Chorus.
Set us free!
Set us free—our work is done.
Ha! ha! ha!
Set us free—our course is run!
Ha! ha! ha!
Aline and Alexis
(aside).
Let us fly to a far-off land,
Where peace and plenty dwell—
Where the sigh of the silver strand
Is echoed in every shell.
Chorus of Fiends.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
[Stage grows light. Mr. Wells beckons villagers.
Enter villagers and all the dramatis personæ, dancing joyously. Sir Marmaduke enters with Lady Sangazure from house. Vicar enters, absorbed in thought. He is followed by Constance. Counsel enters, followed by Mrs. Partlet. Mrs. Partlet and Mr. Wells distribute teacups.
Chorus.
Now to the banquet we press;
Now for the eggs, the ham,
Now for the mustard and cress,
Now for the strawberry jam!
Now for the tea of our host,
Now for the rollicking bun,
Now for the muffin and toast,
Now for the gay Sally Lunn!
Women.
The eggs, and the ham, and the strawberry jam!
Men.
The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!
The rollicking, rollicking bun!
Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye,
Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!
Eat, ay, and drink—be merry, I implore ye,
For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.
Teacup Brindisi.
Eat, drink, and be gay,
Banish all worry and sorrow;
Laugh gaily to-day,
Weep, if you're sorry, to-morrow!
Come, pass the cup round—
I will go bail for the liquor;
It's strong, I'll be bound,
For it was brewed by the vicar!
Chorus.
None so knowing as he
At brewing a jorum of tea,
Ha! ha!
A pretty stiff jorum of tea!
Trio.—Mr. Wells, Aline, and Alexis (aside).
See—see—they drink—
All thought unheeding;
The teacups clink—
They are exceeding!
Their hearts will melt
In half an hour—
Then will be felt
The potion's power!
[During this verse Constance has brought a small teapot, kettle, caddy, and cosy to Dr. Daly. He makes tea scientifically.
Brindisi, 2nd Verse.—Dr. Daly (with the teapot).
Pain, trouble, and care,
Misery, heart-ache, and worry,
Quick, out of your lair!
Get you all gone in a hurry!
Toil, sorrow, and plot,
Fly away quicker and quicker—
Three spoons to the pot—
That is the brew of your vicar!
Chorus.
None so cunning as he
At brewing a jorum of tea,
Ha! ha!
A pretty stiff jorum of tea!
Ensemble.—Alexis and Aline (aside).
Oh, love, true love—unworldly, abiding!
Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy—
Oh, love, true love—divinely confiding,
Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy!
Oh, love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,
Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss—
Oh, love, true love, look down on our sadness—
Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this!
[It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that the charm is working. All rub their eyes.
Tutti
(aside).
Oh, marvellous illusion!
Oh, terrible surprise!
What is this strange confusion
That veils my aching eyes?
I must regain my senses,
Restoring Reason's law,
Or fearful inferences
The company will draw!
Alexis, Mr. Wells, and Aline
(aside).
A marvellous illusion—
A terrible surprise
Excites a strange confusion
Within their aching eyes—
They must regain their senses,
Restoring Reason's law,
Or fearful inferences
The company will draw!
[Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle against its effects, and resume the Brindisi with a violent effort.
Tutti.
Eat, drink, and be gay,
Banish all worry and sorrow,
Laugh gaily to-day,
Weep, if you're sorry, to-morrow;
Come, pass the cup round—
We will go bail for the liquor;
It's strong, I'll be bound,
For it was brewed by the vicar!
None so cunning as he
At brewing a jorum of tea.
Ha! ha!
At brewing a jorum of tea!
| The Sorcerer | |