University of Virginia Library

Scene Second.

—The Valley of Violets—A Shepherd's Hut, a small garden which is attached to it, is entered through an arbour—Sunrise.
Jeal.
And hither trips “a trifle light as air,“
Which Jealousy, “a confirmation strong,”
Shall make for one or both my friends, ere long!

(retires up)
Music—Enter Zephyr—He trips round the stage, occasionally stepping on a flower or leaf, and dancing on it aà la Taglioni in the Sylphide.
Air—Zephyr—“La Sylphide.”

Zeph.
I feel to-day particularly sprightly—
My bosom's lord scarce ever sat so lightly
Upon its throne—to use a phrase poetical.
Of conquest 'tis a symptom quite prophetical.
My gentle whispers and my plastic poses
Will play the deuce to-day among the roses.
I'm getting rather blasè, though, of flowers,
And fancy, as I flit through ladies' bowers,
I should prefer a little sweet flirtation
With one of those fair objects of creation.
I'm jealous of the fops that flutter round them,
And sigh to cut the rascals out—confound them!

(Jealousy advances)
Jeal.
Talk of the devil—and his horns appear.
You spoke of Jealousy—behold him here!

Zeph.
Façon de parler, sir—without evasion,
For jealousy I never had occasion.

Jeal.
Perhaps not—but you wouldn't much object
To kindle it in others, I suspect.

Zeph.
Not in the least!—indeed, in my excursions,
'Tis one of my most favourite diversions.
I am a most determined garden rake,
And sigh that blossoms have no hearts to break.

Jeal.
You'd break a human heart, then, if you could?

Zeph.
Well, as I am not human, then—I would!
Indeed, my only fear, if I have any,
Is that, if human, I might break too many.
“I would be cruel—not unnatural”—mind,
And spare, at least, a few of woman-kind.

Jeal.
In that case, pray allow me to point out
The fairest of her species here about,

Zeph.
You're very kind! (aside)
and most infernal ugly!

Jeal.
In yonder garden then come, nestle snugly,
For love now lures her to this very spot.

Zeph.
Upon my word, a pretty garden plot;
I've not much need to lie in ambush, though,
For only pigs can see the wind—you know.

Jeal.
And jealousy.

Zeph.
That's but one proof the more
That jealousy must be a perfect bore.

Jeal.
Look, where the lady comes by love's direction.

Zeph.
Of pinks I ne'er before saw the perfection!

(they retire)
Enter Princess.
Prin.
This is the hut in which the shepherd dwells,
In form and face who every youth excels
It ever yet has been my lot to see.

Zeph.
'Tis evident she has not yet seen me!

Prin.
Oh, happy hut, to shelter one so dear!

Zeph.
She might say so, if she knew I were here!

Prin.
Yet, happy hut, thou art a wretched hovel,—
Unworthy such a tenant!

Zeph.
Neat and novel!

Prin.
I'll use the power that my mother gave me,
From spiteful Mordicanta's arts to save me.
And here, a model lodging-house display.
Cottage, become a cottage more ornée!

(the hut changes to a beautiful pavilion, formed entirely of flowers, jessamine and orange flowers being predominant)
Zeph.
Heyday! my pinions! here's a flower show!
Why, she's a fairy!

Jeal.
Not exactly so.
She is a fairy's daughter, and possessed of
Some little power.

Zeph.
As we've had a test of.
But wherefore does she try it such low huts on?

Jeal.
To please the shepherd that she's rather nuts on.

Zeph.
Nuts on a shepherd! Pshaw! when I attack
Her heart, such nuts will vanish in a crack!

Prin.
(looking out)
He comes!

Jeal.
(pointing)
Lo! This way moves the favoured spark!

Prin.
His wonder, I will stand aside to mark.

(retires)
Enter Alidor.
Ali.
I've scoured all the country clean around,
Brushed through each bit of brushwood to be found.
But of the most enchanting country fair
No trace can I discover anywhere.
Queen Mab must o'er my nose have driven her team;
And it was but a midsummer night's dream,
Got up by my own brain in every part,
Regardless of expense—to my poor heart!
For, oh, I feel that having fancied one fair,
To fancy any other would be unfair.

Prin.
O sweet confession! all my fears you wipe out!

Zeph.
I know an air shall put the shepherd's pipe out!

Ali.
But I am out of breath with this fond chase,
So home to—
(observes the change in the cottage)
Eh! I've come to the wrong place,
Or I am not the right man to be in it;
In this poor suit—

(looking at his dress)
Prin.
You shall be in a minute!
For I am so inclined your suit to favour,
That not the richest king shall wear a braver!

(she waves her wand, Alidor's dress changes to one of amber satin and silver, his hat, which he had flung on a bank at entering, becomes one of jonquils and blue hyacinths; his crook turns to a gold one, richly ornamented with jewels, and his scrip, hung upon a branch, is beautifully embroidered and suspended by a wreath of roses)
Quartette—Alidor, Princess, Zephyr, and Jealousy—“La Traviata.”
Ali.
Has fancy conjured up this crook,
A sort of fairy fairing!
And is it only with a hook
This fancy dress I'm wearing!

Prin.
Never was gentle shepherd more
A gentleman in bearing;
Soon with another fair—ring,
I'll wed my Alidor.

Ali.
Who can explain this change mysterious?

Prin.
With love and joy I'm half delirious!

Zeph.
I don't believe she can be serious.

Jeal.
Love shall to her be deleterious.

Zeph., Jeal.
Too high that shepherd's pipe is pitched!

Ali.
I am enchanted—I am bewitched!

(at end of which, Alidor rushes into cottage, and Princess disappears amongst the trees)
Zeph.
She's gone! To follow her, oh, let me fly!

Jeal.
Halt!

Zeph.
What for?

Jeal.
To be dressed!

Zeph.
Dressed! am not I?

Jeal.
For one who can't be seen, why, pretty fairly.
But for society, I should say—barely.
If to a princess you your court would pay,
It must be in full dress—Habit Français.

Zeph.
Diable! What, bag, wig, and powder—vest,
Embroidered coat, and—

Jeal.
Of course, all the rest.
The world no goddess now but fashion sways,
And every one appears à la Française;
Gods à la Grecque are known but in a ballad,
And nought's à la Romaine but punch and salad.

Zeph.
But a court suit can't surely be inflated;
To wear it I must be incorporated.

Jeal.
Provisionally; or you'd otherwise
Be nobody at all in ladies' eyes.

Zeph.
A solid reason—but 'twill spoil my figure?

Jeal.
I'll take you to an out-and-out outrigger.

Zeph.
But there's my body first to find—who can
I trust for that?

Jeal.
The tailor makes the man.
And mine supplies the clothing and the frame.

Zeph.
If he don't fit me, mind, you'll be to blame.
But what on earth shall I do with my wings?
I can't afford to part with the dear things,
They make me the most favourite of friskers;—
A man of fashion's lost without his whiskers.

Jeal.
Contrive to hide—I don't want you to lose 'em;
Only, don't shew 'em till I bid you use 'em.

Duo—Zephyr and Jealousy—“La Sonnambula.”
Zeph.
Pray do not mingle my human feeling,
Any form that is ungenteel in!
However real,
My frame may be, all
The beau ideal
Of beaux make me!

Jeal.
Never fear me, I shall suit you
And you'll find that, without dispute, you
Of belles the passion,
“The glass of fashion,”
“And the mould of form,” will be.

(Exeunt)
Re-enter Alidor from cottage.
Ali.
Sure, of my senses I shall be bereft!
Of the “Old House at Home,” there's nothing left.
'Tis to a green house, by some magic feat
Transformed, with all the furniture en suite.
My table is of Covent Garden marquetry,
The floor all floral in its fine green parquetry!
My bed's a flower bed, made with taste and care,
And in the panels, painted by Paterre,
Are pictured shepherds, who in other days
Were favourites with goddesses of fays.
Oh, is it possible? Oh, can it be,
Some fay or goddess is in love with me?
Immortal beauty, if thou art, appear,
And bless again my sight! She doesn't hear!
Or will not answer! And I cannot guess
Where she resides, though sure of her address.
She call'd on me, and found me out; I call
On her, but cannot find her out at all!
Air—Alidor—“My Cottage near Rochelle.”
But hark! I hear the sound of pipes and tabors;
And here come all my friends—I mean, my neighbours!

(goes up)
Rustic Music—Enter Colin, Iphis, Lubin, Stephon, Phœbe, Phillis, Chloe, and Daphne—They dance round stage, then sing chorus.
Chorus—Shepherds and Shepherdesses—Morris Dance.
Now the sun is piping hot,
Come with pipe and tabor,
To this cool and pleasant spot—
Love our only labour!
Leave the sheep themselves to keep
Alive, from being roasted;
While every lass, in cheerful glass,
Is by her shepherd toasted.

Alidor comes down.
Iphis.
Why, Alidor! Oddsbodikins—look there!
The lad's as fine as five pence, I declare.

Phœ.
O, what a lovely jacket! Well, I never!
(aside)
I vow he's ten times handsomer than ever.

Lubin.
A crook of gold—all over gems.

Phil.
O, gemini!

Colin.
And a new house all built of flowers.

Chloe.
Criminy!

Streph.
He's made a fortune somehow, lads, depend.

Lubin.
Have you been dabbling in the stocks, my friend?

Colin.
Married a widow with a lot of tin?

Phœ.
Or to a nabob turned out next of kin?

Chloe.
Or been to California gold digging?

Iphis.
Or taken to the turf?

Lubin.
Or thimble-rigging?

Streph.
Of a new company become projector?

Iphis.
Or of some British Bank been a director?

All.
Speak,—tell us!

Ali.
My good neighbours, cease your pother!
Upon my honour, neither one nor t'other.
My house owes more to orange flowers than stocks,
I've not been fleecing even my own flocks;
As to the turf—like you, I've seen some fun on it,
Got up a bank, and sometimes had a run on it—
But naught beyond; and hard as I have pleaded,
Alas! I've neither married nor succeeded.

Phœ.
(aside)
That last avowal I'm struck almost dumb by!

Iphis.
Then all this finery how did you come by?

Ali.
I've no more notion than you have yourselves.

Phœ.
It may have been the work of wicked elves!

Lubin.
Or some mad frolic of that goblin Puck.

Chloe.
Or fair Titania's favour.

Ali.
No such luck,
I fear! though last night, by the haunted stream,
I saw a fairer being—in a dream.

Phœ.
Who was she like? Do tell me, Alidor?

Ali.
Like—nobody I ever saw before.

Phœ.
(aside)
Provoking!

Ali.
And the more I on it ponder,
The more I'm puzzled.

Lubin.
(looking off)
Who is that wench yonder?

Iphis.
Wench! If I'm any judge of pretty faces,
It must be Venus or one of the Graces!

Music—Enter Princess, attired as a Shepherdess, followed by Jealousy, who in pantomime directs the following scene.
Ali.
Venus or not! she is the very creature
Of my mysterious dream, in form and feature!

Prin.
Good friends, for so I would be with you all,
Don't let me interrupt your rustic ball;
I came not here to spoil your sport, but share it.

Phœ.
(aside)
But I'll spoil yours, sweet madam—you may swear it!
I can see fast enough why here she came.

Ali.
Mortal or goddess! whatsoe'er your name—
You are!—you must be!

Prin.
Bless me, shepherd! what?

Ali.
The very person!

Prin.
No, indeed I'm not.

Ali.
Till you know who I mean, how can you say?
Though not attired exactly the same way,
'Twas you I saw last night in yonder dell;
None but yourself can be your parallel.

Prin.
Were you the shepherd I saw sleeping there,
Who woke with such a start and such a stare?

Ali.
I was; and cause enough I had to start,
For as I woke, you snatched away my heart.

Prin.
Oh, fíe! to think that such a thing I'd do!

Phœ.
(aside)
As if she didn't know she'd done it—pooh!

Prin.
At least, on purpose.

Ali.
Do but give me thine
In fair exchange, and keep for ever mine.

Iphis.
Young woman, if you'll take a friend's advice,
Don't think of doing it at any price.

Ali.
What do you mean?

Prin.
(smiling)
That, for your sake, perhaps,
These shepherdesses might be pulling caps.

Phœ.
(aside)
One would, at least.

Iphis.
No, that is not the danger!
But Alidor's the pet of some grand stranger—
Some goddess or enchantress.

Prin.
Can it be?

Ali.
I care not, sweetest, if thou art not she.

Prin.
Oh, that's all well enough, fair sir, for you;
But if this honest shepherd's tale be true,
And I've a rival of such power and skill,
She'll scratch my eyes out.

Phœ.
(aside)
If she don't—I will!

Lubin.
Or send a fiery dragon, off to carry you;

Streph.
Or some Welsh giant, with three heads, to marry you.

Ali.
They must destroy me first!

Prin.
Suppose the latter—
I don't perceive how that will mend the matter.

Ali.
Distraction! Then am I to understand
That you will not accept my heart and hand?

Prin.
Your heart may not be free as you insinuate,
But I accept your hand just for a minuet.

Music—He leads her up the stage, and with others they take their places for a dance—Minuet, at end of which Jealousy re-enters with Zephyr, in a Watteau costume.
Zeph.
(aside)
For conquest armed, a mighty pretty fellow see!
I shall drive all these rustics mad! Eh, Jealousy?

Jeal.
(pointing to Princess)
She's there!

Zeph.
And in what beautiful society!
Of tulips there's an exquisite variety!

Jeal.
Mind—you are visible—remember.

Zeph.
Right!
By Jupiter, I had forgot that quite.
Of course I am an air apparent now
To all these treasures! I must make my bow.

(bows to Shepherdesses, who come down in a group to observe him)
Phœ.
Why, as I live, here is another stranger.

Zeph.
(aside)
Poor things! their heartsease is in desperate danger!

Chloe.
Bless me! who can be this fine scented beau?

Phil.
Some nobleman, no doubt, incognito.

Zeph.
Zephyr—“With an air, Debonair.”

(dances)
Phœ.
What airs!

Phil.
What manners!

Chloe.
What seductive graces!

(all the Shepherdesses gather round Zephyr, who flirts with each alternately)
Iphis.
Confound the puppy! with his vile grimaces,
His pumps and perriwig, and twists and twirls,
He's turned the heads of all those silly girls!

Lubin.
The coxcomb will corrupt the whole community.

(the Shepherds group together, and threaten Zephyr)
Prin.
(aside)
To try my shepherd, here's an opportunity.
(advancing to Zephyr)
Dear sir, how charmingly you pirouette.

Ali.
(coming down)
She, too!

Phœ.
(to Alidor)
Your new friend seems a rare coquette.

Zeph.
(to Princess)
Your praise transport me!
May I be allowed
The honour?

Prin.
Oh, sir, I shall be too proud!

Ali.
Hold, sir! That lady is to me engaged.

Prin.
Not for this dance.

Phœ.
(aside)
Delightful! He's enraged!

Ali.
Cut me so true! for one who can cut three!

Zeph.
(aside)
A pas de fascination this shall be!

Pas de deux—Zephyr and Princess.
Iphis.
Divine! enchanting! If she's not Terpsichore,
Then say my coffee isn't made of chicory!

Phœ.
Fine goings on, upon my word of honour!
I wonder you don't all cry shame upon her!

Zeph.
(aside)
She's fascinated me, I do declare.

Prin.
(aside)
Poor Alidor, I see, is in despair.

Zeph.
(aside)
I feel a new set of such queer sensations,
And the most violent of palpitations.
My heart seems as if 'twere about to quit me!
They must have given me one that doesn't fit me!

Prin.
(looking at Alidor)
I must console him. (aloud)
Shepherd, why this sorrow?
Smile, if you wish that we should meet—to-morrow.

Ali.
To-morrow! When?—where?

Prin.
Love shall let you know.

Ali.
You swear!

Prin.
I do, by Cupid's strongest bow.
In that same place—wherever that may be—
To-morrow, truly, will I meet with thee.

Phœ.
(aside)
An assignation!

Zeph.
How?—an assignation!
Oh! there's another precious queer sensation!
Right in my ribs my heart first sharply poked me,
Then jumped up in my throat, and almost chok'd me.
Where's Jealousy? He's not far off, I'm sure!
(Jealousy comes down behind him)
This is a thing I can't—and won't endure,
There must be something wrong the work about;
I've some misgivings of his fitter out.
The tailor's name was Nicoll—Nicoll? no,
Not Nicoll—something deuced like it though!

Jeal.
Did you call out?

Zeph.
Call out? Yes; well I might!
My heart's too big, or else my throat's too tight;
One moment I'm on fire—the next quite icy,
And I look spooney when I should look spicy.

Jeal.
Well, you're in love, and you must be a spoon;
You'll get accustomed to it very soon.
Don't shew it though, or you'll be laughed at.

Zeph.
Me
Laughed at! That would be something new!

Jeal.
And see.
She's off—you'll lose her!—be a man!

Zeph.
I'll try;
But 'tis hard work.

Prin.
Time flies, and so must I.

Zeph.
Oh, fly not yet—as Tom Moore used to sing.
(aside to Princess)
Or fly with me?

Prin.
Don't mention such a thing!
To fly in such uncommon fast society
Were flying in the face of all propriety.

Zeph.
Then stay.

Prin.
I can't! A parent most maternal
Is not aware her daughter is external.

Iphis.
Then we'll all see you home to your own door!

Prin.
Not one step, or you'll never see me more.

Ensemble—“Fly not yet”—Princess, Zephyr, and Shepherds.
Zeph.

Prin.

Ali.

Prin.

Chorus of Shepherds.

Chorus of Shepherdesses.

(Exit Princess—Phœbe and Shepherdesses follow her at a distance, as if to observe the road she takes—Shepherds remain in a group)
Ali.
(stopping Zephyr, who is stealing out after Princess)
What are you after?

Zeph.
After? Nothing.

Ali.
No?
Lend me your ear!

(bring him down the stage by it)
Zeph.
Oh! But don't pull it so—
It hurts!

Ali.
One word in it—that lady follow,
And I will give you greater cause to holloa.
That's all I have to say to you at present.
(Exit Alidor)

Zeph.
More new sensations, and still more unpleasant.
I've joined a Company that's much too spirited,
And find my liability's not limited.
I shall withdraw.

Iphis.
Stop, I've a score to settle
With you, my friend.

Zeph.
(aside)
Zounds! Here's another nettle!

Iphis.
Hark ye, Mounseer! I don't know what's your name—
And I don't care—but Phillis is my flame.
You whisper nonsense to her if you dare—
I'll crack your crown, as sure as you stand there!

Zeph.
(aside)
He'd do it—I can see he would—Alack!
Why did I ever have a crown to crack!
(aloud)
Not whisper! I shall whisper, if I please,
I can't help whispering amongst the trees.

Iphis.
You can't!

(twirls him round)
Lubin.
(twisting him the other way)
My Chloe you'd have snatched a kiss from,
If she had let you. D'ye think I'll stand this from
A puppy, just because he wears a spit?
Aye, draw it, and I'll baste you well with it!

Zeph.
Sir, I shall draw it, or not, as I choose it.
(aside)
Oh, that I only knew the way to use it!

Lubin.
You won't? Take that, then, coward!

(hits him)
Zeph.
(aside)
Oh, oh my!
He's gone and hit the wind in the wind's eye!

Streph.
(taking him by the collar)
I saw you chuck my Daphne 'neath the chin;—
I've a great mind that pond to chuck you in.

Zeph.
Chuck me into a pond! Now do! Just do!

Streph.
I will.
(gives him a lift, and Zephyr is thrown completely out of sight)
My stars! where have I chucked him to?

Lubin.
I saw him fly, but never saw him fall!

Streph.
He felt like nothing in my hands at all!

Iphis.
Hunt for him, neighbours!—don't let him off so!
We'll have more fun with him. Yoicks! tally-ho!

Hurried music—They run out in search of Zephyr