The Gondoliers ; Or, The King of Bavataria An Entirely Original Comic Opera, in Two Acts |
| 1. |
 | 2. | ACT II. |
 | The Gondoliers ; Or, The King of Bavataria |  |
ACT II.
Scene.—Pavilion in the Court of Barataria. Marco and Giuseppe, magnificently dressed, are seated on two thrones, occupied in cleaning the crown and the sceptre. The Gondoliers are discovered dressed, some as courtiers, officers of rank, etc., and others as private soldiers and servants of various degrees. All are enjoying themselves without reference to social distinctions—some playing cards, others throwing dice, some reading, others playing cup and ball, “morra,” etc.Of happiness the very pith
In Barataria you may see.
A monarchy that's tempered with
Republican Equality.
This form of government we find
The beau ideal of its kind—
A despotism strict, combined
With absolute equality!
Marco and Giuseppe.
Two kings, of undue pride bereft,
Who act in perfect unity,
Whom you can order right and left
With absolute impunity.
Who put their subjects at their ease
By doing all they can to please!
And thus, to earn their bread-and-cheese,
Seize every opportunity.
Gentlemen, we are much obliged to you for your
expressions of satisfaction and good-feeling. We are delighted,
at any time, to fall in with sentiments so charmingly expressed.
Giu.
At the same time there is just one little grievance that
we should like to ventilate.
All
(angrily).
What!
Don't be alarmed—it's not serious. It is arranged that,
until it is decided which of us two is the actual King, we are
to act as one person.
Giorgio.
Exactly.
Giu.
Now, although we act as one person, we are, in point of
fact, two persons.
Annibale.
Ah, I don't think we can go into that. It is a
legal fiction, and legal fictions are solemn things. Situated as
we are, we can't recognize two independent responsibilities.
Gui.
No; but you can recognize two independent appetites.
It's all very well to say we act as one person, but when you
supply us with only one ration between us, I should describe it
as a legal fiction carried a little too far.
Anni.
It's rather a nice point. I don't like to express an
opinion off-hand. Suppose we reserve it for argument before the
full Court?
Mar.
Yes, but what are we to do in the mean time?
Anni.
I think we may take an interim order for double rations
on their Majesties entering into the usual undertaking to indemnify
in the event of an adverse decision?
Giorgio.
That, I think, will meet the case. But you must
work hard—stick to it—nothing like work.
Giu.
Oh, certainly. We quite understand that a man who
holds the magnificent position of King should do something to
justify it. We are called “Your Majesty,” we are allowed to
buy ourselves magnificent clothes, our subjects frequently nod
to us in the streets, the sentries always return our salutes, and
we enjoy the inestimable privilege of heading the subscriptions
to all the principal charities. In return for these advantages
the least we can do is to make ourselves useful about the
Palace.
We proceed to light our fire,
Then our Majesty adorning
In its workaday attire,
We embark without delay
On the duties of the day.
Of political despatches,
And foreign politicians circumvent;
Then, if business isn't heavy,
We may hold a Royal levée,
Or ratify some acts of parliament.
Then we probably review the household troops—
With the usual “Shalloo humps!” and “Shalloo hoops!”
An interesting Eastern potentate.
After that we generally
Go and dress our private valet—
(It's a rather nervous duty—he's a touchy little man)—
Write some letters literary
For our private secretary—
He is shaky in his spelling, so we help him if we can.
Then, in view of cravings inner,
We go down and order dinner;
Then we polish the Regalia and the Coronation Plate—
Spend an hour in titivating
All our Gentlemen-in-Waiting;
Or we run on little errands for the Ministers of State.
Oh, philosophers may sing
Of the troubles of a king;
Yet the duties are delightful, and the privileges great;
But the privilege and pleasure
That we treasure beyond measure
Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State.
On a bun and glass of sherry),
If we've nothing particular to do,
We may make a Proclamation,
Or receive a Deputation—
Then we possibly create a Peer or two.
Then we help a fellow-creature on his path
With the Garter or the Thistle or the Bath.
Or we dress and toddle off in semi-State
To a festival, a function, or a fête.
Then we go and stand as sentry
At the Palace (private entry),
Marching hither, marching thither, up and down and to and fro,
While the warrior on duty
Goes in search of beer and beauty
(And it generally happens that he hasn't far to go).
He relieves us, if he's able,
Just in time to lay the table,
Then we dine and serve the coffee, and at half-past twelve or one,
With a pleasure that's emphatic,
We retire to our attic
With the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!
Oh, philosophers may sing
Of the troubles of a King,
But of pleasures there are many and of troubles there are none;
And the culminating pleasure
That we treasure beyond measure
Is the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!
[Exeunt all but Marco and Giuseppe.
Giu.
Yet it really is a very pleasant existence. They're all
so extraordinarily kind and considerate. You don't find them
wanting to do this, or wanting to do that, or saying, “It's my
never seem to grudge it.
Mar.
It makes one feel quite selfish. It almost seems like
taking advantage of their good nature.
Giu.
How nice they were about the double rations.
Mar.
Most considerate. Ah! there's only one thing wanting
to make us thoroughly comfortable—the dear little wives we
left behind us three months ago.
Giu.
It is dull without female society. We can do without
everything else, but we can't do without that.
Mar.
And if we have that in perfection, we have everything.
There is only one recipe for perfect happiness.
Hidden, ever and anon,
In a merciful eclipse—
Do not heed their mild surprise—
Having passed the Rubicon.
Take a pair of rosy lips;
Take a figure trimly planned—
Such as admiration whets
(Be particular in this);
Take a tender little hand,
Fringed with dainty fingerettes,
Press it—in parenthesis;—
Take all these, you lucky man—
Take and keep them, if you can!
Quite a miniature affair—
Hung about with trellised vine,
Furnish it upon the spot
With the treasures rich and rare
I've endeavoured to define.
Live to love and love to live—
You will ripen at your ease,
Growing on the sunny side—
Fate has nothing more to give.
You're a dainty man to please
If you are not satisfied.
Take my counsel, happy man;
Act upon it, if you can!
Enter Chorus of Contadine, running in, led by Fiametta and Vittoria. They are met by all the Ex-Gondoliers, who welcome them heartily.
Chorus of Contadine.
Here we are, at the risk of our lives,
From ever so far, and we've brought your wives—
And we don't intend to return again!
Fia.
Though obedience is strong,
Curiosity's stronger—
We waited for long,
Till we couldn't wait longer.
Vit.
It's imprudent, we know,
But without your society
Existence was slow,
And we long for variety—
All.
So here we are, at the risk of our lives,
From ever so far, and we've brought your wives—
And to that end we've crossed the main,
And we don't intend to return again!
Enter Tessa and Gianetta. They rush to the arms of Giuseppe and Marco.
Giu.
Tessa!
Tess.
Giuseppe!
Gia.
Marco!
Mar.
Gianetta!
[Embrace.
Tessa and Gianetta.
(Alternate lines.)
After sailing to this island—
Tossing in a manner frightful,
We are all once more on dry land—
And we find the change delightful.
As at home we've been remaining—
We've not seen you both for ages,
Tell me, are you fond of reigning?
How's the food, and what's the wages?
Does your new employment please ye?—
How does Royalizing strike you?
Is it difficult or easy?
Do you think your subjects like you?
I am anxious to elicit,
Is it plain and easy steering?
Take it altogether, is it—
Better fun than gondoliering?
Chorus.
Till you tell us, never doubt it,
Everything is interesting,
Tell us, tell us all about it!
Do they keep you at a distance?
All unaided are you acting,
Or do they provide assistance?
When you're busy, have you got to
Get up early in the morning?
If you do what you ought not to,
Do they give the usual warning?
Lots of trumpeting and drumming?
Do the Royal tradesmen tip you?
Ain't the livery becoming?
Does your human being inner
Feed on everything that nice is?
Do they give you wine for dinner?
Peaches, sugar-plums, and ices?
Chorus.
We shall all go on requesting,
Till you tell us, never doubt it;
Everything is interesting,
Tell us, tell us all about it!
Mar.
This is indeed a most delightful surprise!
Tess.
Yes, we thought you'd like it. You see, it was like
this: After you left we felt very dull and mopey, and the days
crawled by, and you never wrote; so at last I said to Gianetta,
“I can't stand this any longer; those two poor Monarchs
haven't got any one to mend their stockings, or sew on their
buttons, or patch their clothes—at least, I hope they haven't—
let us all pack up a change and go and see how they're getting
on.” And she said, “Done,” and they all said, “Done;” and we
asked old Giacopo to lend us his boat, and he said, “Done;” and
we've crossed the sea, and, thank goodness, that's done; and
here we are, and—and—I've done!
Gia.
And now—which of you is King?
Tess.
And which of us is Queen?
Giu.
That we shan't know until Nurse turns up. But
never mind that—the question is, how shall we celebrate the
commencement of our honeymoon? Gentlemen, will you
allow us to offer you a magnificent banquet?
All.
We will!
Giu.
Thanks very much; and what do you say to a dance?
Tess.
A banquet and a dance! Oh, it's too much happiness!
Chorus.
We will dance a cachucha, fandango, bolero,
Old Xeres we'll drink—Manzanilla, Montero—
For wine, when it runs in abundance, enhances
The reckless delight of that wildest of dances!
To the pretty pitter-pitter-patter,
And the clitter-clitter-clitter-clatter—
Clitter—clitter—clatter,
Pitter—pitter—patter
We will dance a cachucha, fandango, bolero;
Old Xeres we'll drink—Manzanilla, Montero—
For wine, when it runs in abundance, enhances
The reckless delight of that wildest of dances!
Cachucha.
Don Al.
Good evening. Fancy ball?
Giu.
No, not exactly. A little friendly dance. That's all.
Don. Al.
But I saw a groom dancing, and a footman!
Giu.
Yes. That's the Lord High Footman.
Don Al.
And, dear me, a common little drummer-boy!
Mar.
Oh no! That's the Lord High Drummer Boy.
Don Al.
But surely, surely the servants' hall is the place for
these gentry?
Giu.
Oh dear, no! We have appropriated the servants'
hall. It's the Royal Apartment, and we permit no intruders.
Mar.
We really must have some place that we can call our
own.
Don Al.
(puzzled).
I'm afraid I'm not quite equal to the intellectual
pressure of the conversation.
Giu.
You see, the Monarchy has been re-modelled on Republican
principles. All departments rank equally, and everybody
is at the head of his department.
Don Al.
I see.
Mar.
I'm afraid you're annoyed.
Don Al.
No. I won't say that. It's not quite what I
expected.
Giu.
I'm awfully sorry.
Mar.
So am I.
Giu.
By-the-by, can I offer you anything after your voyage?
A plate of macaroni and a rusk?
Don Al.
(preoccupied).
No, no—nothing—nothing.
Giu.
Obliged to be careful?
Don Al.
Yes—gout. You see, in every Court there are distinctions
that must be observed.
Giu.
(puzzled).
There are, are there?
Don Al.
Why, of course. For instance, you wouldn't have
a Lord High Chancellor play leapfrog with his own cook.
Giu.
Why not?
Don Al.
Because a High Lord Chancellor is a personage of
great dignity, who should never, under any circumstances, place
himself in the position of being told to tuck in his tuppenny,
except by noblemen of his own rank.
Giu.
Oh, I take you.
Don Al.
For instance, a Lord High Archbishop might tell a
Lord High Chancellor to tuck in his tuppenny, but certainly
not a cook.
Not even a Lord High Cook?
Don Al.
My good friend, that is a rank that is not recognized
at the Lord Chamberlain's office. No, no, it won't do. I'll give
you an instance in which the experiment was tried.
Song.—Don Alhambra.
There lived a King, as I've been told,
In the wonder-working days of old,
When hearts were twice as good as gold,
And twenty times as mellow.
Good-temper triumphed in his face,
And in his heart he found a place
For all the erring human race
And every wretched fellow.
When he had Rhenish wine to drink
It made him very sad to think
That some, at junket or at jink,
Must be content with toddy.
He wished all men as rich as he
(And he was rich as rich could be),
So to the top of every tree
Promoted everybody.
Mar. and Giu.
He wished all men as rich as he,
So to the top of every tree
Promoted everybody!
And Bishops in their shovel hats
Were plentiful as tabby cats—
In point of fact, too many.
Ambassadors cropped up like hay,
Prime Ministers and such as they
Grew like asparagus in May,
And Dukes were three a penny.
On every side Field Marshals gleamed,
Small beer were Lords Lieutenant deemed,
With Admirals the ocean teemed
All round his wide dominions.
And Party Leaders you might meet
In twos and threes in every street,
Maintaining, with no little heat,
Their various opinions.
Mar. and Giu.
Two Party Leaders in each street,
Maintaining, with no little heat,
Their various opinions!
His heart was of abnormal size,
Yet he'd have acted otherwise
If he had been acuter.
When every blessed thing you hold
Is made of silver, or of gold,
You long for simple pewter.
When you have nothing else to wear
But cloth of gold and satins rare,
For cloth of gold you cease to care—
Up goes the price of shoddy.
In short, whoever you may be,
To this conclusion you'll agree,
When every one is somebodee,
Then no one's anybody!
Mar. and Giu.
Now that's as plain as plain can be,
To this conclusion we agree—
When every one is somebodee,
Then no one's anybody!
Tessa and Gianetta enter unobserved. The two Girls, impelled by curiosity, remain listening at the back of the stage.
Don Al.
And now I have some important news to communicate.
His Grace the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Her Grace the Duchess,
and their beautiful daughter Casilda—I say their beautiful
daughter Casilda—have arrived at Barataria, and may be here
at any moment.
Mar.
The Duke and Duchess are nothing to us.
Don Al.
But the daughter—the beautiful daughter! Aha!
Oh, you're a lucky fellow, one of you!
Giu.
I think you're a very incomprehensible old gentleman.
Don Al.
Not a bit—I'll explain. Many years ago when you
(whichever you are) were a baby, you (whichever you are) were
married to a little girl who has grown up to be the most beautiful
young lady in Spain. That beautiful young lady will be
here to claim you (whichever you are) in half an hour, and I
congratulate that one (whichever it is) with all my heart.
Mar.
Married when a baby!
Tess. and Gia.
(aside).
Oh!
Giu.
But we were married three months ago!
Don Al.
One of you—only one. The other (whichever it is)
is an unintentional bigamist.
Mar. and Giu.
(bewildered).
Oh, dear me!
Tess. and Gia.
(coming forward).
Well, upon my word!
Don Al.
Eh? Who are these young people?
Tess.
Who are we? Why, their wives, of course. We've
just arrived.
Don Al.
Their wives! Oh, dear, this is very unfortunate.
Duke say?
Gia.
And do you mean to say that one of these Monarchs
was already married?
Tess.
And that neither of us will be a Queen?
Don Al.
That is the idea I intended to convey.
(Tessa and
Gianetta begin to cry.)
Giu.
(to Tessa).
Tessa, my dear, dear child—
Tess.
Get away! perhaps it's you!
Mar.
(to Gianette).
My poor, poor little woman?
Gia.
Don't. Who knows whose husband you are!
Tess.
And pray, why didn't you tell us all about it before
they left Venice?
Don Al.
Because if I had, no earthly temptation would have
induced these gentlemen to leave two such extremely fascinating
and utterly irresistible little ladies!
(Aside.)
Neatly
put!
Tess.
There's something in that.
Don Al.
I may mention that you will not be kept long in
suspense, as the old lady who nursed the Royal child is at
present in the Torture Chamber, waiting for me to interview
her.
Giu.
Poor old girl. Hadn't you better go and put her out of
her suspense?
Don Al.
Oh no—there's no hurry—she's all right. She has
all the illustrated papers. However, I'll go and interrogate her,
and, in the mean time, may I suggest the absolute propriety of
your regarding yourselves as single young ladies.
[Exit Don Alhambra.
Tess.
Well, here's a pleasant state of things!
Mar.
Delightful. One of us is married to two young ladies,
and nobody knows which; and the other is married to one
young lady whom nobody can identify!
Gia.
And one of us is married to one of you, and the other
is married to nobody.
Tess.
But which of you is married to which of us, and what's
to become of the other?
(About to cry.)
Giu.
It's quite simple. Two husbands have managed to
acquire three wives. Three wives—two husbands.
(Reckoning
up.)
That's two-thirds of a husband to each wife.
Tess.
Oh, Mount Vesuvius, here we are in arithmetic! My
good sir, one can't marry a vulgar fraction!
Giu.
You've no right to call me a vulgar fraction.
Mar.
We are getting rather mixed. The situation is entangled.
Let's try and comb it out.
In a contemplative fashion,
And a tranquil frame of mind,
Free from every kind of passion,
Some solution let us find.
Let us grasp the situation,
Solve the complicated plot—
Quiet, calm deliberation
Disentangles every knot.
Tess.
I, no doubt, Guiseppe wedded—
That's, of course, a slice of luck.
He is rather dunder-headed,
Still distinctly, he's a duck.
The Others.
In a contemplative fashion, etc.
Gia.
I, a victim too of Cupid,
Marco married—that is clear.
He's particularly stupid,
Still distinctly, he's a dear.
The Others.
Let us grasp the situation, etc.
Mar.
To Gianetta I was mated;
I can prove it in a trice:
Though her charms are overrated,
Still I own she's rather nice.
The Others.
In a contemplative fashion, etc.
Giu.
I to Tessa, willy-nilly,
All at once a victim fell.
She is what is called a silly,
Still she answers pretty well.
The Others.
Let us grasp the situation, etc.
Mar.
Now when we were pretty babies
Some one married us, that is clear—
Gia.
And if I can catch her
I'll pinch her and scratch her,
And send her away with a flea in her ear.
Giu.
He, whom that young lady married,
To receive her can't refuse.
Tess.
If I overtake her
I'll warrant I'll make her
To shake in her aristocratical shoes!
Gia.
(to Tess.).
If she married your Giuseppe
You and he will have to part—
Tess.
(to Gia.).
If I have to do it
I'll warrant she'll rue it—
I'll teach her to marry the man of my heart!
Tess.
(to Gia.).
If she married Messer Marco
You're a spinster, that is plain—
Gia.
(to Tess.).
No matter—no matter,
If I can get at her
I doubt if her mother will know her again!
All.
Quiet, calm deliberation
Disentangles every knot!
[Exeunt, pondering.
Chorus.
With ducal pomp and ducal pride
(Announce these comers,
O ye kettle-drummers!)
Comes Barataria's high-born bride.
(Ye sounding cymbals clang!)
She comes to claim the Royal hand—
(Proclaim their Graces,
O ye double basses!)
Of the King who rules this goodly land.
(Ye brazen brasses bang!)
Duke.
This polite attention touches
Heart of Duke and heart of Duchess,
Duch.
Who resign their pet
With profound regret.
Duke.
She of beauty was a model
When a tiny tiddle-toddle,
Duch.
And at twenty-one
She's excelled by none!
All.
With ducal pomp and ducal pride, etc.
Duke
(to his attendants).
Be good enough to inform His
Majesty that His Grace the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Limited, has
arrived, and begs—
Cas.
Desires.
Duch.
Demands.
Duke.
And demands an audience.
(Exeunt attendants.)
And, now, my child, prepare to receive the husband to whom
you were united under such interesting and romantic circumstances.
Cas.
But which is it? There are two of them!
Duke.
It is true that at present His Majesty is a double
gentleman; but as soon as the circumstances of his marriage
are ascertained, he will, ipso facto, boil down to a single gentleman—
thus presenting a unique example of an individual who
becomes a single man and a married man by the same operation.
Duch.
(severely).
I have known instances in which the characteristics
of both conditions existed concurrently in the same
individual.
Duke.
Ah, he couldn't have been a Plaza-Toro.
Cas.
Well, whatever happens, I shall of course be a dutiful
wife, but I can never love my husband.
Duke.
I don't know. It's extraordinary what unprepossessing
people one can love if one gives one's mind to it.
I loved your father.
Duke.
My love—that remark is a little hard, I think?
Rather cruel, perhaps? Somewhat uncalled for, I venture to
believe?
Duch.
It was very difficult, my dear; but I said to myself,
“That man is a Duke, and I will love him.” Several of my
relations bet me I couldn't, but I did—desperately!
To your admirable sire,
I acknowledge that I dreaded
An explosion of his ire.
I was overcome with panic—
For his temper was volcanic,
And I didn't dare revolt,
For I feared a thunderbolt!
I was always very wary,
For his fury was ecstatic—
His refined vocabulary
Most unpleasantly emphatic.
To the thunder
Of this Tartar
I knocked under
Like a martyr;
When intently
He was fuming,
I was gently
Unassuming—
When reviling
Me completely,
I was smiling
Very sweetly:
Giving him the very best, and getting back the very worst—
That is how I tried to tame your great progenitor—at first!
On my threatening appearance,
And a resolute defiance
Of marital interference,
And a gentle intimation
Of my firm determination
To see what I could do
To be wife and husband too,
Was all that was required
For to make his temper supple,
And you couldn't have desired
A more reciprocating couple.
Ever willing
To be wooing,
We were billing—
We were cooing;
From him parted
We were nearly
Broken-hearted—
When in sequel
Reunited,
We were equal-
Ly delighted.
So with double-shotted guns and colours nailed unto the mast,
I tamed your insignificant progenitor—at last!
Cas.
My only hope is that when my husband sees what a
shady family he has married into he will repudiate the contract
altogether.
Duke.
Shady? A nobleman shady, who is blazing in the
lustre of unaccustomed pocket-money? A nobleman shady,
who can look back upon ninety-five quarterings? It is not
every nobleman who is ninety-five quarters in arrear—I mean,
who can look back upon ninety-five of them! And this, just
as I have been floated at a premium! Oh, fie!
Duch.
Your Majesty is surely unaware that directly your
Majesty's father came before the public he was applied for over
and over again.
Duke.
My dear, her Majesty's father was in the habit of
being applied for over and over again—and very urgently
applied for, too—long before he was registered under the Limited
Liability Act.
Affords a man of noble rank congenial employment;
Of our attempts we offer you examples illustrative:
The work is light, and, I may add, it's most remunerative!
Duet.—Duke and Duchess.
Duke.
Small titles and orders
For Mayors and Recorders
I get—and they're highly delighted—
Duch.
They're highly delighted!
Duke.
M.P.'s baroneted,
Sham Colonel's gazetted,
And second-rate Aldermen knighted—
Duch.
Yes, Aldermen knighted.
Duke.
Foundation-stone laying
I find very paying:
It adds a large sum to my makings—
Duch.
Large sum to his makings.
Duke.
At charity dinners
The best of speech-spinners,
I get ten per cent. on the takings—
Duch.
One-tenth of the takings.
I present any lady
Whose conduct is shady
Or smacking of doubtful propriety—
Duke.
Doubtful propriety.
Duch.
When Virtue would quash her,
I take and whitewash her,
And launch her in first-rate society—
Duke.
First-rate society!
Duch.
I recommend acres
Of clumsy dressmakers—
Their fit and their finishing touches—
Duke.
Their finishing touches.
Duch.
A sum in addition
They pay for permission
To say that they make for the Duchess—
Duke.
They make for the Duchess!
Duke.
Those pressing prevailers,
The ready-made tailors,
Quote me as their great double-barrel—
Duch.
Their great double-barrel.
Duke.
I allow them to do so,
Though Robinson Crusoe
Would jib at their wearing-apparel!
Duch.
Such wearing-apparel!
Duke.
I sit, by selection,
Upon the direction
Of several Companies' bubble—
Duch.
All Companies' bubble!
Duke.
As soon as they're floated
I'm freely bank-noted—
I'm pretty well paid for my trouble!
Duch.
He's paid for his trouble!
Duch.
At middle-class party
I play at écarté—
And I'm by no means a beginner—
Duke
(significantly).
She's not a beginner.
Duch.
To one of my station
The remuneration—
Five guineas a-night and my dinner—
Duke.
And wine with her dinner.
Duch.
I write letters blatant
On medicines patent—
And use any other you mustn't—
Duke.
Believe me, you mustn't—
Duch.
And vow my complexion
Derives its perfection
From somebody's soap—which it doesn't—
Duke
(significantly).
It certainly doesn't!
Duke.
We're ready as witness
To any one's fitness
To fill any place or preferment—
Duch.
A place or preferment.
We're often in waiting
At junket or fêting,
And sometimes attend an interment—
Duke.
We like an interment.
Both.
In short, if you'd kindle
The spark of a swindle,
Lure simpletons into your clutches—
Yes; into your clutches.
Or hookwink a debtor,
You cannot do better
Duch.
Than trot out a Duke or a Duchess—
Duke.
A Duke or a Duchess!
Enter Marco and Giuseppe.
Duke.
Ah! their Majesties.
(Bows with great ceremony.)
Mar.
The Duke of Plaza-Toro, I believe?
Duke.
The same.
(Marco and Giuseppe offer to shake hands
with him. The Duke bows ceremoniously. They endeavour to
imitate him.)
Allow me to present—
Giu.
The young lady one of us married?
[Marco and Giuseppe offer to shake hands with her. Casilda curtsies formally. They endeavour to imitate her.
Cas.
Gentlemen, I am the most obedient servant of one of
you.
(Aside.)
Oh, Luiz!
Duke.
I am now about to address myself to the gentleman
whom my daughter married; the other may allow his attention
to wander if he likes, for what I am about to say does not
concern him. Sir, you will find in this young lady a combination
of excellences which you would search for in vain in any
young lady who had not the good fortune to be my daughter.
There is some little doubt as to which of you is the gentleman
I am addressing, and which is the gentleman who is allowing
his attention to wander; but when that doubt is solved, I shall
say (still addressing the attentive gentleman), “Take her, and
may she make you happier than her mother has made me.”
Duch.
Sir!
Duke.
If possible. And now there is a little matter to which
I think I am entitled to take exception. I come here in State
with Her Grace the Duchess and Her Majesty, my daughter,
and what do I find? Do I find, for instance, a guard of honour
to receive me? No. The town illuminated? No. Refreshment
provided? No. A Royal salute fired? No. Triumphal
arches erected? No. The bells set ringing? Yes—one—the
Visitors', and I rang it myself. It is not enough.
Giu.
Upon my honour, I'm very sorry; but, you see, I was
to taking off my hat to my passengers when they tip me.
Duch.
That's all very well, but it is not enough.
Giu.
I'll take off anything else in reason.
Duke.
But a Royal Salute to my daughter—it costs so little.
Cas.
Papa, I don't want a salute.
Giu.
My dear sir, as soon as we know which of us is entitled
to take that liberty she shall have as many salutes as she likes.
Mar.
As for guards of honour and triumphal arches, you
don't know our people—they wouldn't stand it.
Giu.
They are very off-hand with us—very off-hand indeed.
Duke.
Oh, but you mustn't allow that—you must keep them
in proper discipline, you must impress your Court with your
importance. You want deportment—carriage—manner—
dignity. There must be a good deal of this sort of thing—
(business)
—and a little of this sort of thing—
(business)
—and
possibly just a soupçon of this sort of thing!—
(business)
—and
so on. Oh, it's very useful, and most effective. Just attend to
me. You are a king—I am a subject. Very good—
Quintette.—Duke, Duchess, Casilda, Marco, Giuseppe.
Duke.
I am a courtier grave and serious
Who is about to kiss your hand:
Try to combine a pose imperious
With a demeanour nobly bland.
Mar. and Giu.
Let us combine a pose imperious
With a demeanour nobly bland.
[Marco and Giuseppe endeavour to carry out his instructions.
Duke.
That's, if anything, too unbending—
Too aggressively stiff and grand;
[They suddenly modify their attitudes.
Now to the other extreme you're tending—
Don't be so deucedly condescending!
Duch. and Cas.
Now to the other extreme you're tending—
Don't be so dreadfully condescending!
Mar. and Giu.
Oh, hard to please some noblemen seem!
At first, if anything, too unbending!
Off we go to the other extreme—
Too confoundedly condescending;
Duke.
Now a gavotte perform sedately—
Offer your hand with conscious pride;
Take an attitude not too stately,
Still sufficiently dignified.
Mar. and Giu.
Now for an attitude not too stately,
Still sufficiently dignified.
[They endeavour to carry out his instructions.
(beating time.)
Oncely, twicely—oncely, twicely—
Bow impressively ere you glide.
[They do so.
Capital both—you've caught it nicely!
That is the sort of thing precisely!
Duch. and Cas.
Capital both—they've caught it nicely!
That is the sort of thing precisely!
Mar. and Giu.
Oh, sweet to earn a nobleman's praise!
Capital both—we've caught it nicely!
Supposing he's right in what he says,
This is the sort of thing precisely!
[Gavotte. At the end exeunt Duke and Duchess, leaving Casilda with Marco and Giuseppe.
Giu.
(to Marco.)
The old birds have gone away and left the
young chickens together. That's called tact.
Mar.
It's very awkward. We really ought to tell her how
we are situated. It's not fair to the girl.
Giu.
Undoubtedly, but I don't know how to begin.
(To
Casilda.)
A—Madam—
Cas.
Gentlemen, I am bound to listen to you; but it is right
to tell you that, not knowing I was married in infancy, I am
over head and ears in love with somebody else.
Giu.
Our case exactly! We are over head and ears in love
with somebody else!
(Enter Tessa and Gianetta.)
In point
of fact, with our wives!
Cas.
Your wives! Then you are married?
Tess.
It's not our fault, you know. We knew nothing about
it. We are sisters in misfortune.
Cas.
My good girls, I don't blame you. Only before we go
any further we must really arrive at some satisfactory arrangement,
or we shall get hopelessly complicated.
Quintette.—Marco, Giuseppe, Tessa, Gianetta, Casilda.
All.
Here is a fix unprecedented!
Here are a King and Queen ill-starred!
Ever since marriage was first invented
Never was known a case so hard!
Mar. and Giu.
I may be said to have been bisected,
By a profound catastrophe!
Gia., Tess., and Cass.
Through a calamity unexpected
I am divisible into three!
All.
Oh, moralists all,
How can you call
Marriage a state of unitee,
When excellent husbands are bisected,
And wives divisible into three?
Finale.
Recitative.—Don Alhambra.
Now let the loyal lieges gather round—
The Prince's foster-mother has been found!
She will declare, to silver clarion's sound,
The rightful King—let him forthwith be crowned!
Chorus.
She will declare, etc.
[Don Alhambra brings forward Inez, the Prince's foster-mother.
Tess.
Speak, woman, speak—
Duke.
We're all attention—
Gia.
The news we seek—
Cas.
This moment mention.
Duch.
To us they bring—
Don Al.
His foster-mother.
Mar.
Is he the King?
Giu.
Or this my brother?
All.
Speak, woman, speak, etc.
Recitative.—Inez.
The Royal Prince was by the King entrusted
To my fond care, ere I grew old and crusted;
When traitors came to steal his son reputed,
My own small boy I deftly substituted!
The villains fell into the trap completely—
I hid the Prince away—still sleeping sweetly;
I called him “son” with pardonable slyness—
His name, Luiz! Behold his Royal Highness!
[Sensation. Luiz ascends the throne, crowned and robed as King.
Cas.
(rushing to his arms).
Luiz!
Luiz.
Casilda! (Embrace.)
All.
Is this indeed the King,
Oh, wondrous revelation!
Oh, unexpected thing!
Unlooked-for situation!
[They kneel.
Marco, Gianetta, Giuseppe, Tessa.
This statement we receive
With sentiments conflicting;
Our thoughts rejoice and grieve,
Each other contradicting;
To those whom we adore
We can be reunited—
On one point rather sore,
But, on the whole, delighted!
Luiz.
When others claimed thy dainty hand,
I waited—waited—waited—waited,
Duke.
As prudence (so I understand)
Dictated—tated—tated—tated.
Cas.
By virtue of our early vow
Recorded—corded—corded—corded,
Duch.
Your pure and patient love is now
Rewarded—warded—warded—warded.
All.
Then hail, O King of a Golden Land,
And the high-born bride who claims his hand
The past is dead, and you gain your own,
A royal crown and a golden throne!
Mar. and Giu.
Once more gondolieri,
Both skilful and wary,
Free from this quandary
Contented are we.
From Royalty flying,
Our gondolas plying
And merrily crying
Our “premé,” “stali!”
All.
So, good-bye cachucha, fandango, bolero—
We'll dance a farewell to that measure—
Old Xeres, adieu—Manzanilla—Montero—
We leave you with feelings of pleasure!
Curtain.
| The Gondoliers ; Or, The King of Bavataria | |