University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Scene First.

—Cottage and Garden of the Good Woman in the Wood.
Enter Finfin, followed by Myrtis.
Myr.
Dear brother Finfin, prithee don't give way so,
You'll cry your eyes out if you weep all day so;
Why for the loss of a poor starling fret?

Fin.
'Twas given to me by my dear Lirette,
And she will think I held her present light.

Myr.
How was it that you didn't hold it tight?

Fin.
It was so tame—you know as well as I,
To hop the twig I never thought 'twould try;
Came when 'twas called, did as 'twas bid, and would
Have shut the door behind it, if it could.

Myr.
Well, never mind—be comforted, dear brother,
I'll see if I can't catch for you another.

Fin.
It won't be that she gave me. I could never
Love it so much, or think it half so clever.
A flock of starlings can't my peace restore,
For dear Lirette will never love me more!

Enter Lirette.
Lir.
That's quite true, brother—for I don't know how
Lirette could love you more than she does now.

Fin.
What, though I've lost the bird you gave me?

Lir.
Pshaw!
Spite of the proverb, I declare I saw
Two in the bush just now, well worth the one
You had in hand—and sure as any gun
I'll catch them for you.

Myr.
So I offered too,
But nothing I could say to him would do.

Fin.
Air—Finfin—“Phillis is my only joy.”

Myr.
The fact is, we don't want another starling,
We want another brother—a nice darling,
That would love me, and make of me a pet,
Exactly as you do of dear Lirette.

Fin., Lir.
That's it! we do!

Fin.
Let's all run, and ask mother
To find us, instantly, another brother.

Lir.
Yes! yes! I'm sure she will, she is so good;
She found us three, you know, here in the wood,
When we were little tiny babies—why,
To find a fourth should she not now go try?

Myr.
Aye! but I shouldn't care for one so small,
I want a brother who is quite as tall
At least as Finfin, who can walk and chat.

Fin.
Ah! I don't think they're found as big as that.

Lir.
You must have patience, Myrtis, till he grows up,
And bring him, just as I have brought this rose up.
(as she is about to gather a rose from the tree, she pricks her finger with a thorn)
Oh!

Fin., Myr.
What's the matter?

Fin.
Oh! a nasty thorn
Has pierced her precious little finger! torn
The skin, and drawn the blood! Quick, let me bind it.

Dame is heard singing outside.
Lir.
It is not much! here's mother! never mind it!

Enter Dame.
Dame.
What do I see? One of my pets in pain?
(runs to Lirette)
Let mother kiss and make it well again.

(kissing her)
Fin.
Will kissing cure it? Oh, my stars, how prime!
Won't I remember that another time.

Lir.
Dear mother, why do flowers so sweet and gay
Have horrid thorns to prick one's finger, pray?

Dame.
To warn you, when at pleasure you would snatch,
Beneath it lurking you may find “Old Scratch!”

Fin.
It only shews me that, to fear a stranger,
He who would gain the prize must scorn the danger.

Dame.
Finfin! I will not have you be so bold!

Lir.
Nay, dearest mother, don't poor Finfin scold.

Dame.
I will! I must! he really has such notions,
He fills my heart with all sorts of emotions.

Lir.
So he does mine; but then they're all so charming.

Dame.
Lirette! (aside)
Good gracious! This grows more alarming!
(aloud)
You must not be so fond of one another.

Fin.
Not fond of Lirette?

Lir.
I! not love my brother?

Dame.
Love him? yes, surely, as a sister may.

Lir.
Law! can I love him any other way?

Dame.
(aside)
Air—Dame—“We gather shells.”

All Three.
A story! O, delightful!

(coming forward)
Fin.
Do just wait
Till I have put this chair for you—we'll sit
Around and hear it, mother, every bit.

(places chair for Dame in the centre of the stage—she sits)
Lir.
(seating herself at her feet)
Finfin, sit next to me.

Fin.
Yes, that I will!

Dame.
Indeed you won't! sit there, sir, and sit still,
If it be possible, or you shall go
Into the corner and not hear it.

All Three.
Oh!

Dame.
Well, then, be quiet.

Lir.
We'll be mute as mice.

Fin.
Now, mother, do begin! Oh, ain't it nice.

Dame.
Once on a time there lived a king and queen,
Who were the happiest couple ever seen.
Blessed with two charming babes they loved so dearly,
They smothered them with kisses very nearly.

Fin.
Isn't it capital?

Lir.
Now, Finfin, don't.

Dame.
Perhaps, as Lirette asks you, sir, you won't.
This good king had a brother very cruel,
Who one day put some poison in his gruel.
And soon as ever the poor king was dead,
He clapped the crown on his own wicked head.

Lir.
Oh, what a naughty man!

Fin.
The vile old thief!

Myr.
And the poor queen?

Dame.
She died, alas, of grief.

Lir.
And the two little darlings, whom their mother
And father used with kisses so to smother?

Dame.
The tyrant had no taste for such sweet habits,
He smothered them with onions, just like rabbits.

Fin.
And ate 'em like an ogre?

Dame.
He knows best
What he did with them after they were dressed.
I only know that dished by royal warrant,
The infant heirs were no more heirs apparent.
And their bad uncle to their realms so fair,
Succeeded as King Bruin, called “the Bear.”

(rises)
Lir.
Oh! you don't mean to say the story is o'er?

Dame.
No, I come now to what concerns you more.
The wicked king having thus gained his ends,
Snugly about him quartered all his friends,
His foes he quartered also, I confess,
But hanged them first, which made them like it less.
At least, so thought the widow of a knight,
Who for the good king fallen had in fight.
So moved her quarters to a forest deep,
And strove to keep herself by keeping sheep.
One morn, when looking for a lamb astray,
She came where 'neath a lime tree sleeping lay
Three little children.

Lir.
Little children?

Myr.
Three?

Fin.
Just as you found Myrtis, Lirette, and me?

Dame.
Exactly; for it is of you I speak.

Fin.
And it was you who went the lamb to seek?
Why, then the brave knight was my father!

Dame.
No!
Nor am I, dears, your mother.

All Three.
Don't say so.

Fin.
You must—you shall be!

Lir.
We will have no other.
We're old enough to choose now—arn't we, brother?

Fin.
If we belonged another mother to,
Why did not she find us instead of you?

Dame.
Because, poor soul, it was her fate to lose you.
But here's a point that may still more confuse you.
You may not all, perhaps, the children be
Of the same mother.

Fin.
Not Lirette and me?

Dame.
How can I tell? Three helpless pickaninies,
Wrapped in three mantles, worth three hundred guineas,
With golden chains and lockets round your necks.
(Each as I found it still the wearer decks.)
A name, as I suppose, on each was set
In jewels, “Finfin,” “Myrtis,” and “Lirette.”
I brought you home, and up as mine.

Lir.
And so
We are, and will be. I should like to know
What more we want. I'm sure, if I could gain,
By rubbing this small locket on my chain,
Whate'er I wished, as that young Arab scamp,
Aladdin, could, by rubbing his old lamp,
I should be puzzled what request to make,
Unless I wished just for mere wishing's sake,
As I'm so fond of them—A House of Roses!

Music—The cottage changes to a pavilion formed entirely of roses.
Fin.
And there it is, right slap before our noses.

Dame.
Ne'er till to day was such a house “on view!’
The furniture is all of roses too.
Of damask roses all the curtains fair—
Of China roses all the crockery ware.
With carpets of moss roses 'neath one's feet,
And rooms that are in every sense “en suite.”

Myr.
What if my locket had such virtue in it.

Fin.
Wish something—anything to try—this minute.

Myr.
I wish this poor little potato patch
Was a fine garden, our new house to match.

Music—The scene changes accordingly—In lieu of the small garden and wood, magnificent pleasure grounds extend as far as the eye can reach, with statuettes, fountains, terraces, &c., &c.
Dame.
Of some illusion we are sure the sport.
I'm in a maze, as though at Hampton Court!
Cremorne and Rosherville combined are there.
Paterre ne'er painted such a fine parterre.
With parks and grounds to walk, or hunt, or fish in,
Who can deny we had good grounds for wishing!

Lir.
Now, Finfin, try your locket.

Fin.
Well, then. Here!
I wish some prince would come to hunt the deer
In that fine park by which our garden girt is,
And fall head over ears in love with Myrtis.

Myr.
Law! Fall in love with me?

Lir.
Head over ears?
Wouldn't it hurt him?

Dame.
Very much, my dears.
(to Finfin)
What of such follies, pray, sir, should you know?

Fin.
I've heard you talk of princes doing so
In fairy tales, and so I wished—

(hunting horns in the distance)
Dame.
Why, hark!
Somebody is a hunting in the park.

Myr.
And here's a young man coming up this path.

Dame.
One of you quickly wish he was at Bath.

Myr.
I couldn't; I've not got the heart to do it;
He is so handsome!

Dame.
There! I felt! I knew it!

(hunting horns nearer)
Enter Prince Sylvan.
Prince.
Madam, I beg you twenty thousand pardons;
But I presume you own this house and gardens.

Dame.
I own I occupy them, sir, at present.

Prince.
An occupation, I presume, most pleasant.
Your daughter, I presume, (looking at Myrtis)
the rose most blooming
Of all the bower.

Dame.
Sir, you are too presuming.

Prince.
Forgive me, 'tis a habit on me grown,
Since I've been heir presumptive to the throne.

Dame.
A Prince!

Prince.
Prince Sylvan, step-son to King Bruin.

Fin.
What, the bad King?

Dame.
Boy, this will be our ruin.

Fin.
I'll wish him gone directly—

Dame.
'Tis in vain.
He struck poor Myrtis—she struck him again.

Lir.
Dear mother, when?

Dame.
This moment—at first sight!

Fin.
Well, if he struck her first, she served him right.

Lir.
And look where yonder, underneath the trees,
He begs her to forgive him—on his knees.

Dame.
(seeing Prince Sylvan, who has followed Myrtis up the stage, kneeling to her)
Myrtis! Prince Sylvan!
What are you about?

Prince.
About to marry.

Dame.
What! my leave without?

Prince.
I'm told you are so good—you'll not say no;
To get the licence and the ring I go.

Dame.
Rash Prince! you will not act so madly!

Prince.
Won't I!
(Exit Prince)

Dame.
Myrtis, you don't mean that you love him?

Myr.
Don't I!

Dame.
I'm a dead woman! He'll bring Bruin here!
And Bruin soon will bring me to my bier!

Fin.
But if we wish him not, why then he can't.

Dame.
Well, there's some little hope in that, I grant.
And on that little I must needs rely,
Since Fate has put her finger in the pie.
But if you love me, and would 'scape perdition,
Wish nothing more without my full permission.

Quartette—Dame, Lirette, Finfin, and Myrtis—“Carry me back to Old Virginny.”
Dame.
If little folks had all their wishes
What folly they'd oft betray.

Fin.
I have but one, and oh! to get it—

Dame.
Ah! don't you wish you may?

Lir.
No, let's wait till time's propitious.

Myr.
Or till we need help more.

All Three.
And then we'll wish whate'er you wish us.

Dame.
And wish no wish before.
I then may wish you'll further wish us
Than e'er we were before.

(Exeunt into cottage)

Scene Second.

—Room in Palace of King Bruin.
March and flourish—Enter King, Queen, Prince, Court, and Guards.
King.
Though yet of our late brother, who has been
So long defunct, the memory's so green,
That we have subjects who dare still look blue
When that grave subject is alluded to,
This is to give you all a gentle hint,
Not to presume at acts of ours to squint
Through spectacles of any hue but those
Made by our order of “Couleur de Rose;”
And sold to suit all ages and conditions,
By “Wink and Company,” the Court opticians.
“Verbum sat sapietiam”—you're aware
'Tis not for nothing we are called “The Bear.”

Queen.
That's the bare fact!

King.
Madam, I think you spoke!
I trust you didn't mean that for a joke?

Queen.
Joke! I know better what becomes your wife;
I never was more serious in my life.

King.
Humph! That may be; but yet no proof it brings.
Some people's jokes are very serious things.
But now, our cousin Sylvan, and step-son—

Prince.
(aside)
A little more than cozened! I am done
Unutterably brown, if all be true,
I've heard since my return—

King.
One word with you;
Since we have pitched on you to carry down
The steps of time our sceptre and our crown,
We've taken the first step, and deigned to make
Choice of a wife for you.

Prince.
I'd rather take
That step myself—

King.
It isn't what you'd rather—
You'll take no step but what suits your step-father;
And I repeat, I've chosen for you, so
You'll choose our choice whether you choose or no.

Prince.
And that choice is?—

King.
The Princess Uglymug,
The only daughter of the great Rumjug,
Emperor of Japan.

Prince.
Oh, Day and Martin!
Japan! Why she's as black as jet for certain.

King.
Black! What put such a notion in your head?
To call her black proves you not deeply read.
The Japanese have rich complexions, ninny!
Their sovereign is as yellow as a guinea;
His daughter's cheeks are of the same bright hue.
Her hair and eyes are black—

Queen.
And her teeth too.

King.
Madam! you'll keep your tongue within your own,
Or you shall hold your jaw without the bone!
To argue were our dignity beneath;
(to Prince)
You'll marry her in spite, sir, of her teeth.

Prince.
Marry a yellow wife! An ugly—

King.
Stuff!
Her father comes down handsome—that's enough.
She brings so much cash with her, I shall hold
Yours is the guilt if mine is not the gold.

Prince.
What, I'm to have the wife and you the money?

King.
Of course—

Prince.
Such course is too coarse to be funny!
Let me be guilty sooner than be base—
Not all Japan can varnish such a case.

King.
How! you object?

Prince.
In toto, sir—in limine!

King.
Thunder and lightning!

Queen.
(aside)
Here's a storm! Oh, criminy!

Prince.
I've pledged my hand already.

King.
Pledged! You can't—
You haven't got an uncle or an aunt.
They're both as dead as herrings, and without
My leave, 'tis treason anything to spout.

Prince.
I've popped, sir, to a maid I met of late.

King.
I'll make the poppet eat the duplicate.
Where hangs she out? Speak, sir—or fly and bring her,
That I may hang the belle before you ring her.

Prince.
Nay, then you shall hang me before I tell.

King.
Ha! something like a rat we think we smell.
You have been hunting, sir, to-day, we hear,
And found, perhaps, where someone's lodg'd a deer;
What is this story they have told the Queen,
About some cabin?

Prince.
“Uncle Tom's” you mean.

King.
Uncle Tom Noddy's! I don't mean a novel,
But a most novel cottage, hut, or novel
Built all of roses.

Prince.
(aside)
I've been too loquacious.

King.
Speak, madam, you, as he is contumacious!

Queen.
Sir, of the story I know nothing more—
'Tis a one-storied house, with a ground floor.

King.
Don't think to floor me, madam, by this game.
Who is the landlady, and what's her name?

Queen.
She has no name, sir—as I understood,
They call her “The Good Woman in the Wood.”

King.
What! a good woman with a head on—pshaw!
A sight on earth nobody ever saw.
I don't believe it, but the truth I'll test,
I've no doubt bad enough she'll prove at best.
And if I find she's been this boy's enthraller,
I'll make her look much more like what they call her.

Trio“Firefly”.
King.
Right about,
I'm without
Any doubt,
Where about
We shall rout
Your rara avis out!
Young or old,
Shall her bold
Head be rolled
Off her should-
-Ers if sold
We are this lout about.

Queen and Prince.
As I feared what he has heard,
He's as savage as a bear about;
Pop, oh Fate, ere 'tis too late,
A muzzle on his snout.

King.
Right about, &c.

(Exeunt)

Scene Third.

—Interior of the House of Roses.
Enter Finfin.
Fin.
“You may not all one mother's children be”—
So mother said this morning to us three;
And in my ears the words for ever jingle,
And make the very tips of them to tingle.
Oh! if I only at the truth could get,
Which sister is not mine—

(a Starling which has flown in answers “Lirette,” “Lirette,”)
Fin.
Lirette! who spoke? what voice was that I heard?
(turns and sees Starling)
My stars! my starling! oh, my truant bird!
If that be true—and you've returned to aid me,
It is the best return you could have made me!
Lirette, you positively then assert, is
Not my sister. It is—

Star.
“Myrtis! Myrtis!”

Fin.
O joy! from whence such tidings could you bring?
What's here—a note tucked underneath your wing?
(taking and opening it)
Words set to music! Lucky for the setters
I learned my notes as early as my letters!
But sure the lines which are to music set,
Are from the crowquill of—

Star.
“Lirette!” “Lirette!”

Air-Finfin-“Prima Donna Waltz.”
“If it be really true (reading from paper)

You love me as I love you,
Never was seen
The knife so keen
Can cut such a love in two!
So I'll be yours if you'll be mine,
And send by flying post a line,
To say I've no objection—objection,
To be for life your Valentine.
If by return you don't decline
Returning my affection!—
For oh!
If it be really true, &c.”

Fin.
O, soothing syrup to my aching breast,
Thus folded to my heart be ever pressed!

Enter Dame.
Dame.
What is the paper you are so hot-pressing?
Foolscap, I fear—a much too fit head dressing
For such a silly boy! So—mighty fine,
Upon my word! Why, it's a Valentine!
And in Lirette's hand-writing—this ensues
From teaching her to mind her P's and Q's!

Dame.
St. Valentine I'll have no more discourse on.
(flourish)
Talking of Valentine—why here comes Orson,
I do believe—

King.
(outside)
Halt!

Dame.
To his growl I'd swear.
It is the old original Black Bear!

Flourish—Enter King, attended.
King.
Are you the woman of the house?

Dame.
I am.

King.
The Good Woman?

Dame.
They say so.

King.
That's a flam.

Dame.
A flam! At least, sir, 'tis not of my telling.

King.
Is that your only title to this dwelling?
Have you no deeds to shew?

Dame.
'Twould boasting be
To speak of my deeds—they must speak for me.

King.
Woman! I ask have you a lease?

Dame.
Great sir,
I am a forty shilling freeholder.

King.
I will bet forty shillings that's a fib.
This house of yours is, I suspect, a crib.
What have the Woods and Forests been about
To let our Crown lands thus for nothing out?
Who was the architect?

Dame.
A perfect stranger.
It was run up like magic.

King.
There's the danger.
This way the houses they run up in town,
The next fine day to come with a run down.
Yet, notwithstanding rents in every wall,
The rent's the only thing that doesn't fall!
And was it, pray, out of our royal woods
You picked your sticks? Who gave you all your goods?
This furniture so florid in design—
The Exhibition furnished naught so fine?

Dame.
The same good friend.

King.
Name him.

Dame.
I ne'er heard mention
Of names. It was a delicate attention
To a poor widow and her orphan chicks,
Left, without fixtures in an awful fix.

King.
Oh! you have chickens, have you?—very good.
And, pray, is this young cock one of your brood?

Fin.
I am, old bear.

King.
Old bear!

Dame.
That's not polite.

Fin.
I don't care! Does he think this cock won't fight?

King.
Here's a game chicken we in time must check!
Seize him, and wring the strutting bantam's neck.

Dame.
Oh, mighty monarch! Hear me for him plead!
The child's a perfect innocent.

King.
Indeed!
You have some more young innocents, no doubt?

Dame.
Two daughters, sire—so young they're not yet out.

King.
Not out! 'Tis false, and your confusion shews it.
They are out and their cunning mother knows it.
Have they not been to the Crown Prince presented?

Dame.
An accident that could not be prevented.
'Twas he, alas, who came to court—not they.

King.
To court a lass no doubt you mean to say.
Go, drag before us this fine brace of minxes!
We'll find the riddle out though 'twere the sphinx's.
(music—Guards exeunt, and return with Lirette and Myrtis)
Now! which is the young witch which witched our son so?

Lir.
Oh! as if either of us could have done so!

King.
Talk'st thou to me of “if's”—my wig and gaiters!
Here's a preparatory school for traitors.
Upon this plot of ground there's too much reason
To think these groundlings have been plotting treason;
On which ground we shall shortly find a spot
Where by our order rubbish may be shot.

Fin.
But—

King.
But me no buts!

Dame.
It is useless suing!
The time is past to talk of buts to Bruin!

Quintette—Dame, Finfin, Lirette, Myrtis, and King—“Lucia di Lammermoor.”
Dame.
This the cruelest of blows is!
Smash must go the House of Roses;
He'll dispose of all its posies,
As of so much bankrupt stock.

Lir.
Murder may be meditating,
We've no chance but emigrating!

Fin.
By our timbers amputating,
We alone can cut the block!

Myr.
On our lockets calculating,
We may yet his fury mock!

King.
Up the traitors lock,
While I here take stock!

(Exeunt Dame, Finfin, Lirette, and Myrtis, guarded)
King.
To let, and with immediate occupation,
In a most eligible situation,
A villa residence—within a mile
Of town—and furnished in the newest style!
I couldn't fancy a more pleasant seat,
When from the toils of state I would retreat;
'Tis very rarely that a king reposes,
As here I may do on a bed of roses.
(music—seats himself on the bed—the roses change to thorns)
Oh! Oh! that wicked widow! Plague upon her!
Is this the way to stuff a seat—of honour!
Where is the bell? I'll for the beldame ring!
(music)
And—
(the bell rope changes to one of nettles)
Ugh! confound it! nettles! How they sting!
A pretty hand I've made on't with these swell ropes,
I'll hang the bell hanger in his own bell ropes!
(sinks in arm-chair—it changes to one of thistles)
Thistles! and (it breaks and he falls on the floor)
down!
(rising and coming forward)
Will any body dare
To call that to my face an easy chair!

Star.
Ha! ha! ha! ha!

King.
Laughed at! where is that grinner?
He shall grin through a halter before dinner!

Star.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! a good joke! a good joke!

King.
It's that audacious bird! It laughed and spoke!
As plain as Yorick's did! Ah, now I see!
The widow is a witch, and this must be
What is called her familiar—I should say
Her too familiar—laughing in this way
At my expense! For such familiarity
I'll put a stop, my friend, to your hilarity.
Here's what shall teach you to be less a talker,
I'll soon walk into you, young fellow!
(draws pistol)

Star.
Walker!

King fires—The Starling flies away unhurt, but a quantity of branches and brambles fall from the roof of the cottage and enclose the King in a cage.
King.
Missed him, by Jupiter! Holloa! Od rot it,
I've brought down everything, and never shot it!
Music—Four Imps, armed with long thorns, appear, and poke at him through the branches, from which he in vain endeavours to extricate himself.
Oh! you young imps! how dare you poke your fun
At me! Help! Murder! Treason! Don't—adone!

Imps disappear as the Guards enter hastily, followed by Dame, Finfin, Lirette, and Myrtis—Guards release the King.
Dame.
What is the matter, mighty ursus major?

King.
Oh, you vile sorceress! I'll bet a wager
These are your tricks! but you shall play no more of 'em!
A stake and faggots, rascals! seize all four of 'em!
The witch shall burn alive—with all her brats!

Dame.
We're lost, though we'd as many lives as cats!

Fin.
Mayn't we wish now?

Dame.
There cannot be a doubt of it.
In such a scrape—

Fin.
I wish, then, we were out of it!

Music—Clouds envelope the King and his Attendants, who disappear amidst them.
Lir.
We are! we are! Our foes are out of sight.

Myr.
Have they retreated—or we taken flight?

Dame.
We're rising, I declare, o'er wood and hill!
Our prospects, though, are rather cloudy still.

Fin.
What joy to find we're all alive and hearty.

Myr.
I wish Prince Sylvan though was of the party.

Prince Sylvan appears through clouds.
Prince.
Sweet Myrtis!

Myr.
Oh! he heard me through the cloud.

Dame.
Young ladies shouldn't wish so very loud.

Lir.
Where are we going?

Fin.
I can't understand.

Lir.
I wish it were into some fairy-land,
Where we might find protection.

Dame.
I should stare
Just now to find protection anywhere.

Change of music—Clouds disperse and discover

Scene Fourth.

—Basaltic Terminus on the borders of Lake Lucid.
The Fairy Fragrant enters in a car drawn by Elves with garlands of roses, and accompanied by Fairies.
Fairy.
(to Lirette)
You wished, fair maid, in Fairy-land to be,
You have your wish—a fairy-land you see.

Lir.
I can't imagine a more fairy scene.

Fairy.
'Tis called the Land of Bloom. I am its queen,
Protectress of the Flowers—and likewise
Ruler of all the tribes of butterflies.
(to Dame)
You're the Good Woman I so much have heard of.

Dame.
A fairy queen I mustn't doubt the word of.

Fairy.
Of these young people I know all the history.

Dame.
Indeed! Oh, then you can clear up the mystery.

Fairy.
I can and will—in confidence to you.
Meanwhile, to prove that what I say is true,
Know 'twas I placed the three babes in the wood,
To two of whom as godmother I stood,
And gave them those three lockets—worthless here—
Where we have all we wish for—naught to fear.

(taking the lockets from them)
Fin.
Have all we wish for! Oh, then—joy divine—
Lirette will be my wife.

Prince.
(with Myrtis)
And Myrtis mine!

Fairy.
'Twas settled by your parents long ago,
And I my promise gave it should be so.
Therefore, strike hands, and choose your partners all,
Flare up and join the Union Fairy Ball.

(music)
BALLET.