University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—The Rhine. Gobbet alone.
GOBBET.
Now is the winter of my mud-born meanness,
Made glorious summer by these people's greenness;
And now, instead of diving for my meals,
To fright the timid souls of river eels,
And scarcely venturing to bask on shore,
But on a sunny mud-bank grunt and snore,
I drink good beer from foaming pewter mugs,
And sleep in feather-beds, full of nice things called b---gs!
Now for my dinner,—what a jolly mess,
That never wanted cook or fire to dress:
A springing salmon, which I caught myself;
I'll eat it like a Christian, too, on delf.

[Eats at one side of the stage.
Enter Johanna and Elspeth.
ELSPETH.
What would you be a doing, mistress dear?

JOHANNA.
I come to drown myself and sorrows here.

ELSPETH.
You're in your slippered feet—dear mistress, hold—
Do take my shoes, you'll get your death of cold!
Your foot's almost as small as Cinderella,
And, ma'am, why havn't you got your umbrella?
The rain, like rats and mice, is pouring down:
Oh! 'tis a very ugly night to drown!

JOHANNA.
What nonsense you are talking! What care I
For rain and cold when I am going to die?

ELSPETH.
Such folly, mistress dear, ain't you above?

JOHANNA.
Sure, didn't Dido kill herself for love?

ELSPETH.
Dido! she darned her stocking as she sat,
Before the palace gate she darn't do that.

JOHANNA.
Here, take my brooch and earrings—you may sell them.
If friends should come to look for me, you'll tell them
They'll find me on the mud-bank down below:
And then “take me up tenderly,” don't you know?

[Sings; air, Donna Sabina Waltz.
Johanna sings
No more hope flushes me,
Frantic I go,
Where old Rhine hushes me
Moaning low.
There—there grief preyeth not,
Wasteth not more,
And old Rhine stayeth not
Rushing o'er.

ELSPETH
sings.

JOHANNA
sings.
I stay not to ponder, my grave waits me yonder:
To brood in my sorrows one moment I dare not;
Till soundly I slumber, each moment I number,
I fly from my anguish, and whither I care not.
No more hope flushes me, &c.

JOHANNA
(to Elspeth).
I know you won't forget my dying wishes:
Now, cruel Zoeline, I'm food for fishes.

[She iumps into the Rhine.
ELSPETH.
And so she's drowned herself, and so I let her;
I greatly fear I'm aider and abetier.
What noise is that? it frightened me almost.
Alas! alas! it is the Fraulein's ghost!

[She runs off the stage.
GOBBET.
Though reptile I, she nearly made me blubber.
Here's for a plunge, to save this poor land lubber.

[Gobbet dives in after Johanna.
Enter Zoeline, all covered with scales.
ZOELINE.
Oh, horror! beating every horror hollow!
May the earth open and my body swallow.
I dreamed that to a mermaid I was married,
And to the Rhine in clammy arms was carried;
I dreamed the monster struck me with her tail,
And all my skin broke out in slimy scale.
Johanna now would loathe me with disgust,
I'll fling me at her feet—I must—I must.

[Exit Zoeline. Enter Johanna and Elspeth.
ELSPETH.
It was some crazy door that was a creaking,

JOHANNA.
For shame—the voice was tuneful that was speaking.
I should not now be sorrowful and weeping,
If on the peaceful mud-bank I was sleeping;
It's not so very terrible to drown,
And I was going—oh, so calmly down,
When something seized on my unhappy corpus,
Some kind Newfoundland, or a gentle porpoise,
And brought me softly paddling to the shore.

ZOELINE
(outside).
Oh, Johanna!

ELSPETH.
Hush, mistress—there again, the creaking door.

Enter Zoeline.
JOHANNA.
Oh, Zoeline!

ZOELINE.
That's me.

JOHANNA.
Oh, pardon my surprise!
What means that fishy look about your eyes?
Has some bad spirit your resemblance stole?
Or is it transmigration of the soul?
I knew your voice, and hastened to the place,
But scarcely can I recognise your face.
What have you done, that could have changed you so?

ZOELINE.
I am a crocodile, for all I know;
And yet no crocodile's tears are those I'm shedding.

JOHANNA.
This should have been the morning of our wedding.

ZOELINE.
My wedding! name it not, I almost deem
Some charm was over me, some frightful dream—
Some spell that bound me to the cold deceiver;
'Tis gone, just like—the night-mare of a fever,
And left my heart as once it was, thine own.
What say I—can a reptile's tears atone?

JOHANNA.
To wed that reptile is my dearest wish.
Give me your hand— [drops it]
—how clammy, like a fish.
Pardon me, Zoeline! this is, indeed, felicity;
The shock I felt must have been Electricity.
I'm happier than the Queen of England now,—
And who knows but you'll some day cast your slough?

ZOELINE.
Dearest Johanna!

JOHANNA.
Yes, what would you say?

ZOELINE.
You know this should have been my wedding day.
I am so hideous, may be you might falter,
And I'm so altered, you might slum the altar—
My reptile face.

JOHANNA.
Dear Zoeline, no more.
I think it's twice as handsome as before.

ELSPETH.
Then what must it have been? Oh, how she doats!
I think he'd frighten horses from their oats.

ZOELINE.
This generosity I can't repay:
Oh, let this really be our bridal day.

JOHANNA.
With all my heart; dear Zoeline, content;
But shall we ever get Mamma's consent?

ELSPETH.
Into the balance throw his money bales,
And I'll go bail 'twill amply poise the scales.

JOHANNA.
Come, Zoeline, we'll go together now,
And delicately break it to the Frau.

Zoeline
sings; air, Immortellen Waltz.
True, still true, faithful are you;
When all my summer friends left me
You should have left me too.

JOHANNA
sings.
Still by your side, though all others should leave you;
Still when the traitor had snared and undone you;
Proving my constancy, proud to have won you,
Still is my cheering voice heard by your side.

Duet.
JOHANNA.
True, still true,
Faithful to you;
When all your summer friends leave you,
Let them desert me too.

ZOELINE.
True, still true,
Faithful are you;
When all my summer friends left me,
You should have left me too.

[Exeunt.
Enter Luralie in agitation.
LURALIE.
I've had a dream—a terrible dream.
I thought I heard my old father call,
And his gruff old voice had a threatening tone,
As it thundered up from his sparry hall;
Thro' Rhine's blue bosom, cold and deep,
I thought I sunk, like a falling star,
Where the light of the sun could hardly peep,
Till it greenly glimmered in caves of spar,
Where the Rhine's green hair kept waving, waving,
And its silent waters were ever laving.
My ears were confused by a gurgling sound;
The light was dim as when evening closes,
And the goggle-eyed fishes kept prying around,
And bobbing against me with cold clammy noses.
I longed for the cheery voices of men,
The joyous hunt, and the thoughtless wassail;
I longed for the light of the sun again,
The gay greenwood, and the old grey castle.
But the Rhine's green hair kept waving, waving,
And its silent waters were ever laving.
What did I hear in the dancing waves?
My gay young bridegroom, I heard him greet me.
What did I see in the sparry caves?
My gay young bridegroom, I saw him meet me.
“Luralie, long have I waited,” he said.
But I sprang with a shriek from his clammy caresses;—
My stern old father was there instead,
And his temples were bound with the Rhine's green tresses,
And the Rhine's green hair kept waving, waving,
And the silent waters were ever laving.

Enter Rhine King and Nymphs.
RHINE KING.
This is the period that I did appoint thee.
Come! rush to my bosom!

LURALIE.
Dread vision, aroint thee!

RHINE KING.
My power is upon thee, and thou must return.
Come, haste to the water—I burn! I burn!
The tide-wave is rolling, the stars are propitious,—
The sign of the Scales, and the sign of the Fishes.

RHINE KING sings.
Haste away! haste away!
Long have I wandered thro' my lonely halls.
Haste away! haste away!
Hark! 'tis the Rhine King calls!

LURALIE
sings.
Oh, father! bide one falling tide—
The weary waves to seaward glide.
Alas! I cannot, cannot, leave him—leave my Zoeline!

CHORUS OF NYMPHS.
List to our murmuring chorus!
It thrills through the water o'er us.
Oh, come, sister! dearest Luralie! Oh, dearest Luralie!
Come! we are worn with weeping;—
Our hearts lonely watch are keeping.
Oh, come, sister! dearest Luralie! Oh, dearest Luralie!

RHINE KING
sings.
Haste away! haste away!
Long have I wandered thro' my lonely halls.
Haste away! haste away!
Hark! 'tis the Rhine King calls.

LURALIE
sings.
Oh, father! bide on falling tide—
The weary waves to seaward glide.
Alas! I cannot, cannot leave him—leave my Zoeline!

CHORUS OF NYMPHS.
Lo, thro' the waters gleaming,
Our long robes and tresses streaming—
Oh, come, sister! dearest Luralie! Oh, dearest Luralie!
List to thy sisters' calling;
Our wail on thine ear is falling—
Oh, come, sister! dearest Luralie! dearest Luralie!

RHINE KING.
Thy chamber awaits thee—all starry and pure:
Thy lamp shall be made of a great Koh-i-noor.
We have banished all things that are slimy and ragged;
Thy floor shall be coral, thy throne shall be agate,
Thy crown of the wet water-lily and dry rush,
All clustered with diamonds (the diamonds are Irish);
And a robe of ice bugles—its tissue is thinnish;
'Twas completed in Finland with exquisite finish.

NYMPH.
Behind thee, sister, see a sunny scene wake.
The spotted trout are jumping at the green drake;
Your own pet trout has spent itself in leaping
Above the current when it saw you weeping.

LURALIE.
Alas! What noise! What mean these acclamations?

RHINE KING.
Thy Zoeline is false.

NYMPH.
Sister, have patience.
Don't list to the rejoicings of the vain crowd;
Come, take a shower-bath in yonder rain cloud.

LURALIE.
Father, I come—dear sisters, do not cry;
My heart's best life's water is nearly dry.
Lull me to sleep with music below,
I'll slumber for a century or so.
When I awake—for time our grief assuages—
We'll find ourselves about the middle ages.
Father, permit me—you can vigil keep:
You know I'm best behaved when I'm asleep;
You'll see, by peeping downwards thro' the skylight,
My misty figure in the caves' green twilight,
A dreaming of the billows' distant plashes,
All in my clouds of air and long eyelashes.

[Exeunt.