University of Virginia Library

Scene Fifth.

—Suddenly changes to Summit of a Mountain.
And so we are, by Jupiter! but where?

Amy.
Too rashly wish'd, behold!

(points to stick, which has again shortened)
Prince.
Well, I declare!
Some one has cut our stick, as well as we!
Stay, an inscription on it here I see.
(reads)
“Mortal, you've had two wishes out of four;
Take notice, you can only have two more.”
Astounding fact! whoe'er is the magician?
Like Cassio, he's a great arithmetician!
Take two from four and only two remain!
But I've had only one wish, I maintain.

Amy.
Alas! I had the first, and little reckoned
That you so suddenly would form a second.
Out of the cave 'tis very true we are,
But 'tis impossible to say how far.
Tho' seven long leagues divide us from our foe,
He'd overtake us in one stride, you know!

Prince.
Song—Prince—“Hurrah for the road!”

Amy.
(looks off)
Ha! we are lost—see—o'er yon hills!

Prince.
Oh, murther!
The Ogre's coming! make haste—wish us further!

Amy.
No, that would leave us but one wish to make,
And upon earth he's sure to overtake—

Prince.
On earth! O wish, then, that we were at sea,
On board the schooner, “Bee and Orange Tree!”

Amy.
What! you would sooner be an orange tree.
I wish you were, for safe then you would be!

Prince.
Holloa! what's happening to me now, I wonder?
Oh, cousin! you have made an awful blunder!

The Prince is changed into an Orange Tree, covered with fruit and blossom, and in a finely sculptured vase—The scene at the same time changing to a splendid garden, with terraces and statues.
Amy.
Alas! I didn't mean—I quite forgot!
Oh! there's the third wish gone indeed to pot!
And here's the Ogre too, again, I vow;
To wish my wish undone were fatal now!
Since then, sweet Prince, you must remain a tree,
I wish to hover round you as a bee.

Music—A Hive rises round Amy and encloses her, as Ravagio is seen rapidly crossing the stage, and a large Bee issues from the Hive—The music changes, and the Princess Linda, Countess of Kurtzylow, Ladies, and Servants descend a flight of steps into the garden.
Chorus—Ladies and Servants—“Celarius Waltz.”

Linda.
Let me have no intruders; above all,
Keep suitors from my sight. If any call,
Tell them they needn't give themselves the trouble
To call again. I find men all so double,
That I have made my mind up to live single,
And never with the false he-creatures mingle
Save in affairs of state, and rarely then;
Women make better counsellors than men.
I'll form at once a new administration
Of all the female talent in the nation,
And they shall be a young and handsome set!
If an old woman should amongst them get
By accident—the world can scarcely flout one,
Few Cabinets have ever been without one.
And then my household—female every soul.
(to 1st Lady)
You Lady Steward; (to 2nd Lady)
you Groom of the Stole;
(to Countess)
You shall be Lady Chamberlain; and you
(to 3rd Lady)
The Mistress of the Horse—no, that won't do,
Because of horses I've not left a team;
I mean to travel, drive, and hunt by steam;
So Mistress of the Locomotives, now,
Must be the title. By-the-bye, pray how
Gets on the Fairy Atmospheric line?
It passes over property of mine!

Countess.
The works are nearly all complete, they say,
Th'experimental trip takes place to-day.
The Government Inspector, General Praise,
Vows it's the best line going now-a-days.
They talk of an extension to the moon,
With branches to the planets very soon.

Linda.
And a fine plan it is—I shall be proud
If called upon to puff up the first cloud.
So order me a pair of silver bellows,
'Twill make the plated spade uncommon jealous;
And since they've got a Railway King I mean
To start an opposition Railway Queen;
The milky way shall echo with my name,
And Linda's Court put Capel Court to shame.
Away, and leave me to my cogitations,
My brain is full of airy speculations.
(Exeunt Ladies, &c.)
Yes, I'll be famous in the realms of space,
'Tis time the Earth itself should mend its pace,
When its inhabitants all live so fast,
And this to do shall be my project vast.
I'll start a line on which the world shall run
In less than half the time around the sun!
Air—Linda—“I'm the Genius of the Spring.”
But soft, what perfume steals upon the breeze?
'Tis something like those highly flavour'd teas,
Which advertising grocers call their “fine
Rough Orange Pekoes only four and nine.”
Ha! 'Tis this splendid Orange Tree, no doubt,
Which throws so exquisite a perfume out.
Yes, that the scent comes from it is quite clear,
But who the dickens could have sent it here?
I never saw it in my walks before;
With fruit and flowers it is covered o'er.
I'll cull a wreath of blossoms for my hair;
Tho' not a bride, a Virgin Queen may wear
Such garland surely.
(music—As she is about to gather a blossom, the Bee stings her)
Oh, the horrid thing!
That Mammoth Bee has dared my hand to sting!
Who waits! what ho! My Lady Chamberlain!

Enter Countess.
Countess.
Your royal pleasure?

Linda.
It's my royal pain
That made me call you—A vile insect foe
Has stung your Sovereign's hand—

Countess.
No, has it, tho'!
Point out the traitor, that I may pursue it.

Linda.
No, for perhaps it didn't mean to do it.
Pluck me a blossom from that Orange Tree.

Countess.
Yes, madam.
(she attempts it, the Bee stings her)
Oh! a great big bouncing bee,
Came buzzing out ere touch the flow'r I could!
And stung me dreadfully.

Linda.
I thought it would.

Countess.
You did, ma'am?

Linda.
Yes! I'm quite rejoiced to see,
It was not out of private pique to me.
But where's the blossom you were bid to get me?

Countess.
I cannot gather it, the Bee won't let me!

Linda.
Go, call the other ladies of my Court,
We cannot thus be made an insect's sport.
(Exit Countess)
To try the same adventure—quickly bring 'em all,
I cannot think the Bee will dare to sting 'em all.

(music—Re-enter Countess with the other Ladies)
Chorus—“Dear, dear, what can the matter be?”
[Chorus.]
Dear, dear, what can the matter be?

Linda.
Here, here, don't you call that a Bee?

Chorus.
Dear, dear, I ne'er saw so fat a Bee!
'Twould make a fine show at a fair!

Linda.
I fear the Bee must be beheaded for treason,
It wounded your Sovereign for no other reason
Than simply desiring some flowers to seize on,
To place in her bonny brown hair!

Chorus.
Dear, dear, fling something at the Bee,
Here, here! knock with this flat the Bee;
Stand clear! Madam! O'drat the Bee!
It's stung us all round, I declare.

(During the last Chorus the Ladies have tried to drive away the Bee, which flies at and stings them all)
Countess.
Most gracious madam, what must now be done?
The horrid Bee has stung us everyone!

Linda.
If I know what to do, may I be switched!
I do believe the Bee must be bewitch'd.

Countess.
Arm'd cap-à-pie, let us attack the hive,
And to the sword put every bee alive!

Linda.
Then be alive—but hold—whoe'er attacks
The Bee will have the worst of it at whacks.

Countess.
Madam, we'll win the Battle of the Bees,
As sure as Jason won the Golden Fleas.

Linda.
The Golden Fleece you mean.

Countess.
Well, fleas or fleece,
'Twas something golden, and all over Grease.
So, madam, will you follow my suggestion?

Linda.

Air and Chorus—Linda, &c.—“Guillaume Tell.”

Chorus.
Wait a little, you, &c.

(Exeunt Linda, &c.—Bee flies into Hive)
Enter Ravagio, &c., with his seven-league boots hanging to his club over his shoulder.
Rav.
Song—Ravagio—“I'm afloat.”

(runs off roaring and fighting with the Bees—Music—Re-enter Linda and Ladies splendidly armed—Female Heralds, Trumpeters, &c.
Air and Chorus—Linda, &c.—“Robert le Diable.”
Linda.
Queen-at-Arms! make proclamation!
Sound defiance to the swarm!
Against the bold Queen Bee and nation
War declare in usual form!
March, my merry maids! Brave be, very, maids!
Hurry'em! flurry'em! worry'em! curry'em!
Smoke and smother'em! poke and bother'em!
Scatter'em! batter'em! slaughter'em! oh!

Chorus.
Won't we give the bees a beating
If they venture on our beat!
She who talks about retreating,
As a traitor we will treat.

Linda.
Though in wax they're dealers,
They a Tartar yet may catch;
“Sharp are our pickers and stealers”
When we're brought up to the scratch!

Chorus.
—Queen-at-Arms, &c.

At the end of the chorus the two Trumpeters advance with Herald to the Hive, and flourish.
Herald.
Bees! bees! come out of your hive,
Or else we'll smother you all alive!

Linda.
No answer! Then we'll storm the hive this minute.
Forward!

(they charge the Hive and run back again)
Countess.
(poking the Hive)
Why, sure, there can't be one bee in it.

Linda.
The foe has taken flight!
(all shout—
The field is ours!
And mine the Orange Tree's defenceless flowers!
Thus with my trenchant blade a limb I sever!

(cuts at a branch with her sword—the Tree groans, and blood trickles from the wounded bark)
Countess.
Oh, madam, did you ever!

Linda.
No, I never;
It groans! it bleeds! Oh, most prodigious sight,
Its fainting blossoms turn a deadlier white!
And moved to tears by my attempts at slaughter,
Distil sad drops of Orange Flower water.
What wondrous mystery is this—and see?
Regardless of our arms, returns the Bee
Bewailing! and now making motions dumb—
Surely such anguish can't be all a hum!
But how to be assured of the contrary?
I do remember an obliging Fairy,
And here about she dwells—who, as I noted,
Cut for the simples gratis—she'd devoted
Much time to botany—and wrote a book
Called “Language of the Flow'rs” which greatly took
'Mongst boarding school young ladies—did it not?
She was an F.Z.S. and heaven knows what!

Countess.
Madam! I think I know the Fairy's name,
'Twas Trufio!—

Linda.
Trufio! the very same—

Countess.
Then we may every moment here expect her,
Of our new Railway she is a director.
(railway whistle)
And hark! the train is coming, I declare!
I'm sure I heard the whistle in the air!

Air and Chorus—Linda and Ladies—“It's the harp in the air”—“Maritana.”
I hear it quite plain!
'Tis the train in the air!
At the station it calls,
'Neath our own garden walls,
The Grand Atmospheric Direct everywhere!
It brings back the days when we read with amaze
Of Valentine so brave, of Cinderella fair,
Of the Royal Ram's grave, and the Blue Bird's despair.
There! There!
List, lady, list; 'tis the train in the air!

Music—The Fairy Atmospheric down train descends rapidly and then enters the garden, passing along the back of the terrace—The State Carriage of the Directors stops at the grand flight of steps leading down to the garden, and the door being opened by the Fairy Guards, the Fairy Trufio descends and advances, followed by the other Directors, &c.
Linda.
Welcome, fair Fairy! you come apropos;
Inform me, prithee, for I'm sure you know,
Is this an Orange Tree?

Fairy.
Why should you doubt it?

Linda.
And this a Bee that buzzes so about it?

Fairy.
What should it be beside?

Linda.
It seems to be
Beside itself, and all about that tree
Which cried out, when I cut it, like a baby.
I think there's something in it.

Fairy.
Well, there may be.
I'll question it—perhaps it may reply.

Linda.
If it's a civil orange, certainly.

Fairy.
Tree, if you are a tree—still mute remain!
If not, the nature of your woes explain.

Air—Orange Tree, or Prince—“From the white blossom'd sloe.”
From my white blossom'd bough,
Yonder lady requested
A sprig, her fair locks to adorn:
But, by heav'n! I'm afraid I shall perish,
For I never was cut so dead since I was born.

Linda.
'Tis an enchanted tree the sight to cheat meant!

Fairy.
It's not at all enchanted with your treatment—
Now for the Bee. If you're a Bee, be dumb;
If not, I'll trouble you an air to hum!

Air—Amy as Bee—“Woodman spare that tree.”
Fairy, spare that tree,
Cure but its wounded bough,
Your very humble Bee
I'll ever be I vow.

Fairy.
'Tis plain that these are persons of condition,
Who've been the victims of some great magician;
But by my pow'r I can their forms restore—
So, Bee and Tree, be as you were before!

(Music—Prince and Amy are seen richly attired, in place of the Orange Tree and Hive)
Linda.
Mercy upon us, who is this I see?

Fairy.
The Princess who was changed into a Bee.

Linda.
And this?

Fairy.
The Prince, her cousin.

Linda.
Prince! then he's
The Prince of Orange!

Prince.
You mean Orange Trees!
I trust your Highness will be pleased to pardon
My false position in your palace garden;
The fact is, I did not anticipate
Such an immediate horticultural fate.

Linda.
Sir, if I cut you, pray pronounce my sentence.

Prince.
'Twill be, that you will not cut my acquaintance.
(to Amy)
My fair enslaver, at your feet I fall!

Amy.
My own true Prince! then you've not changed at all.
(to Fairy)
Madam, to you I owe a debt of gratitude,
Although my state was quite one of Bee-attitude
Compared to what it was, whilst I was bound
To the fierce Ogress who your wand had found.

Fairy.
My wand!

Amy.
The wishing one.

Fairy.
How very odd!

Prince.
You'll spare the child—though she has spoiled the rod!

Fairy.
Oh! certainly, you've nothing now to fear;
Nor from the Ogres, or myself, my dear;
Ravagio is no more a seven-league stalker,
He's burned his boots and changed his name to Walker.
Behold him fitted out by Moses—

Enter Ravagio in a full Court suit, à la Louis Quatorze powdered wig, cocked hat, &c.
All
but Fairy.
How!

Rav.
Don't be alarmed, I'm not an Ogre now;
Ogres are out—we've all embraced professions,
And seven-leagued boots are grown as rare as Hessians!
Since e'en through Fairy-land by steam they're rolling,
I found my own pair were not worth re-soleing;
Of man-catching I hadn't got a chance,
Society is so far in advance;
The only way “to go a-head,” I knew,
Was just to try my hand at railroads, too—
So here, as chairman, snugly I'm located,
Of “The Grand Bubble-and-Squeak Amalgamated,’
Capital, forty millions—prospects fine.
My wife and son are stagging for the line,
In Parliament we count on great support,
Bankers, “Dunn, Brown, and Cutaway, Bolt Court.”
Permit me.

(offering prospectus to Princess Linda)
Linda.
No! no bubble speculation,
I prize too much the bubble reputation;
The lines I shall support are bonâ fide—
(To Audience)
But first, this couple let us tie up tidy.
Say, can you patronise without compunction,
This Matrimonial Bee and Orange Junction?
Provisionally registered, until
Your honourable House shall pass the bill?
Think of the many parties interested,
Think of the real capital invested,
Have mercy on the author—the projector,
On the lessee—the principal director!
On these—whom we the engineers may call,
And me, the poor solicitor for all.
Though on this line there is much competition,
I hope there is no chance of a collision.
Both in the House and out—support our cause,
We'd have no terminus to your applause!
Finale—Linda—“So anch'io la virtu”—“Don Pasquale.”