The Gondoliers ; Or, The King of Bavataria An Entirely Original Comic Opera, in Two Acts |
 | 1. | ACT I. |
| 2. |
 | The Gondoliers ; Or, The King of Bavataria |  |
ACT I.
Scene.—The Piazzetta, Venice. The Ducal Palace on the right.Fiametta, Giulia, Vittoria, and other Contadine discovered, each tying a bouquet of roses.
List and learn, ye dainty roses,
Roses white and roses red,
Why we bind you into posies
Ere your morning bloom has fled.
By a law of maiden's making,
Accents of a heart that's aching,
Even though that heart be breaking,
Should by maiden be unsaid:
Though they love with love exceeding,
They must seem to be unheeding—
Go ye then and do their pleading,
Roses white and roses red!
Fiametta.
Two there are for whom, in duty,
Every maid in Venice sighs—
Two so peerless in their beauty
That they shame the summer skies.
We have hearts for them, in plenty,
We, alas, are four-and-twenty!
They have hearts, but all too few,
They, alas, are only two!
Now ye know, ye dainty roses,
Why we bind you into posies
Ere your morning bloom has fled,
Roses white and roses red!
[During this chorus Antonio, Francesco, Giorgio, and other Gondoliers have entered unobserved by the Girls—at first two, then two more, then four, then half-a-dozen, then the remainder of the Chorus.
Recit.
Franc.
Good morrow, pretty maids; for whom prepare ye
These floral tributes extraordinary?
Fia.
For Marco and Giuseppe Palmieri,
The pink and flower of all the Gondolieri.
Giu.
They're coming here, as we have heard but lately,
To choose two brides from us who sit sedately.
Ant.
Do all you maidens love them?
All.
Passionately!
Ant.
These gondoliers are to be envied greatly!
Gior.
But what of us, who one and all adore you?
Have pity on our passion, I implore you!
Fia.
These gentlemen must make their choice before you;
Vit.
In the meantime we tacitly ignore you.
Giu.
When they have chosen two that leaves you plenty—
Two dozen we, and ye are four-and-twenty.
Fia. and Vit.
Till then enjoy your dolce far neinte.
Ant.
With pleasure, nobody contradicente!
Song.—Antonio and Chorus.
For the merriest fellows are we, tra la,
That ply on the emerald sea, tra la;
With loving and laughing,
And quipping and quaffing,
We're happy as happy can be, tra la—
As happy as happy can be!
With sorrow we've nothing to do, tra la,
And care is a thing to pooh-pooh, tra la;
And Jealousy yellow,
Unfortunate fellow,
We drown in the shimmering blue, tra la,—
We drown in the shimmering blue!
Fia.
(looking off).
See, see, at last they come to make their choice—
Let us acclaim them with united voice.
[Marco and Giuseppe appear in gondola at back.
All the Girls.
Hail, gallant gondolieri, ben' venuti!
Accept our love, our homage, and our duty.
[Marco and Giuseppe jump ashore. The Girls salute them.
Giu. and Mar.
Buon' giorno, signorine!
Girls.
Gondolieri carissimi!
Siamo contadine!
Giu. and Mar.
(bowing).
Servitori umilissimi!
Per chi questi fiori—
Questi fiori bellissimi?
Girls.
Per voi, bei' signori
O eccellentissimi!
[The Girls present their bouquets to Giuseppe and Marco, who are overwhelmed with them, and carry them with difficulty.
Giu. and Mar.
(their arms full of flowers).
O ciel!
Girls.
Buon' giorno, cavalieri!
Giu. and Mar.
(deprecatingly).
Siamo gondolieri.
(To Fia. and Vit.)
Signorina, io t'amo!
Girls
(deprecatingly).
Contadine siamo.
Giu. and Mar.
Signorine!
Girls
(deprecatingly).
Contadine!
(Curtseying to Giu. and Mar.)
Cavalieri.
Giu. and Mar.
(deprecatingly).
Gondolieri!
Poveri gondolieri!
Chorus.
Buon' giorno, signorine, etc.
Duet.—Marco and Giuseppe.
But that's a vagary,
It's quite honorary
The trade that we ply.
Since we were short-coated,
To ladies devoted,
My brother and I.
Our couches forsaking,
To greet their awaking
With carols we come.
When weary lagooning,
Our mandolins tuning,
We lazily thrum.
To hope ever clinging,
With songs of our singing
A vigil we keep.
Enwrapt in night's shading,
With soft serenading
We lull them to sleep.
And now to choose our brides!
As all are young and fair,
And amiable besides,
We really do not care
A preference to declare.
A bias to disclose
Would be indelicate—
And therefore we propose
To let impartial Fate
Select for us a mate!
All.
Viva!
A bias to disclose
Would be indelicate—
But how do they propose
To let impartial Fate
Select for them a mate?
Mar.
These handkerchiefs upon our eyes be good enough to bind,
Giu.
And take good care that both of us are absolutely blind;
Both.
Then turn us round—and we, with all convenient despatch,
Will undertake to marry any two of you we catch!
All.
Viva!
They undertake to marry any two of us they catch!
[The Girls prepare to bind their eyes as directed.
Tessa.
(to Marco).
Are you peeping?
Can you see me?
Mar.
Dark I'm keeping,
Dark and dreamy!
[Slyly lifts bandage.
Vit.
(to Giuseppe).
If you're blinded
Truly say so.
Giu.
All right-minded
Players play so!
[Slyly lifts bandage.
Fia.
(detecting Marco).
Conduct shady!
They are cheating!
Surely they de-
Serve a beating!
[Replaces bandage.
Vit.
(detecting Giuseppe).
This too much is;
Maidens mocking—
Conduct such is
Truly shocking!
[Replaces bandage.
All.
You can spy, sir!
Shut your eye, sir!
You may use it by-and-by, sir!
You can see, sir!
Don't tell me, sir!
That will do—now let it be, sir!
All the girls.
My papa he keeps three horses,
Black, and white, and dapple grey, sir;
Turn three times, then take your courses,
Catch which ever girl you may, sir!
[Giuseppe and Marco turn round, as directed, and try
Giu.
I've at length achieved a capture!
(Guessing.)
This is Tessa! (Removes bandage.)
Rapture, rapture!
Mar.
(guessing)
Gianetta fate has granted! (Removes bandage)
Just the very girl I wanted!
Giu.
(politely to Mar.)
If you'd rather change—
Tessa.
My goodness!
This indeed is simple rudeness.
Mar.
(politely to Giu).
I've no preference whatever—
Gia.
Listen to him! Well, I never!
[Each Man kisses each Girl.
Gia.
Thank you, gallant gondolieri:
In a set and formal measure
It is scarcely necessary
To express our pride and pleasure.
Each of us to prove a treasure,
Conjugal and monetary,
Gladly will devote our leisure,
Gay and gallant gondolieri.
La, la, la, la, la! etc.
Tessa.
Gay and gallant gondolieri,
Take us both and hold us tightly,
You have luck extraordinary;
We might both have been unsightly!
If we judge your conduct rightly,
'Twas a choice involuntary:
Still we thank you most politely,
Gay and gallant gondolieri!
La, la, la, la, la! etc.
All the Girls.
To these gallant gondolieri,
In a set and formal measure,
It is scarcely necessary
To express their pride and pleasure.
Each of us to prove a treasure,
Conjugal and monetary,
Gladly will devote her leisure
To the other gondolieri!
La, la, la, la, la! etc.
All.
Fate in this has put his finger—
Let us bow to Fate's decree,
Then no longer let us linger,
To the altar hurry we!
They dance off two and two—Gianetta with Marco, Tessa with Giuseppe].
Entrée.
Duke.
From the sunny Spanish shore,
His Grace of Plaza-Tor'—
Duch.
And His Grace's Duchess true—
Cas.
And His Grace's daughter, too—
Luiz.
And His Grace's private drum
To Venetia's shores have come:
All.
And if ever, ever, ever
They get back to Spain,
They will never, never, never
Cross the sea again!
Duke.
Neither that Grandee from the Spanish shore,
The noble Duke of Plaza-Tor'—
Duch.
Nor his Grace's Duchess, staunch and true—
Cas.
You may add, his Grace's daughter, too—
Luiz.
And his Grace's own particular drum
To Venetia's shores any more will come.
All.
And if ever, ever, ever
They get back to Spain,
They will never, never, never
Cross the sea again!
At last we have arrived at our destination. This is
the Ducal Palace, and it is here that the Grand Inquisitor
resides. As a Castilian hidalgo of ninety-five quarterings, I
regret that I am unable to pay my state visit on a horse. As a
Castilian hidalgo of that description, I should have preferred to
ride through the streets of Venice; but owing, I presume, to an
unusually wet season, the streets are in such a condition that
equestrian exercise is impracticable. No matter. Where is our
suite?
Luiz
(coming forward).
Your Grace, I am here.
Duch.
Why do you not do yourself the honour to kneel when
you address his Grace?
Duke.
My love, it is so small a matter!
(To Luiz.)
Still, you
may as well do it.
(Luiz kneels.)
Cas.
The young man seems to entertain but an imperfect
appreciation of the respect due from a menial to a Castilian
hidalgo.
Duke.
My child, you are hard upon our suite.
Cas.
Papa, I've no patience with the presumption of persons
in his plebeian position. If he does not appreciate that
position, let him be whipped until he does.
Let us hope the omission was not intended as a
slight. I should be much hurt if I thought it was. So would
he.
(To Luiz.)
Where are the halberdiers who were to have
had the honour of meeting us here, that our visit to the Grand
Inquisitor might be made in becoming state?
Luiz.
Your Grace, the halberdiers are mercenary people who
stipulated for a trifle on account.
Duke.
How tiresome! Well, let us hope the Grand Inquisitor
is a blind gentleman. And the band who were to have
had the honour of escorting us? I see no band!
Luiz.
Your Grace, the band are sordid persons who required
to be paid in advance.
Duch.
That's so like a band!
Duke
(annoyed).
Insuperable difficulties meet me at every
turn!
Duch.
But surely they know his Grace?
Luiz.
Exactly—they know his Grace.
Duke.
Well, let us hope that the Grand Inquisitor is a deaf
gentleman. A cornet-à-piston would be something. You do
not happen to possess the accomplishment of tootling like a
cornet-à-piston?
Luiz.
Alas, no, your Grace! But I can imitate a farmyard.
Duke
(doubtfully).
I don't see how that would help us. I
don't see how we could bring it in.
Cas.
It would not help us in the least. We are not a parcel
of graziers come to market, dolt!
Duke.
My love, our suite's feelings!
(To Luiz.)
Be so good
as to ring the bell and inform the Grand Inquisitor that his
Grace the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Count Matadoro, Baron Picadoro—
Duch.
And suite—
Duke.
Have arrived at Venice, and seek—
Cas.
Desire—
Duch.
Demand!
Duke.
And demand an audience.
Luiz.
Your Grace has but to command.
(Rising.)
Duke
(much moved).
I felt sure of it—I felt sure of it!
(Exit Luiz into Ducal Palace.)
And now, my love—
(aside to
Duchess)
,
shall we tell her? I think so.
(Aloud to Casilda.)
And now, my love, prepare for a magnificent surprise. It is
my agreeable duty to reveal to you a secret which should make
you the happiest young lady in Venice!
Cas.
A secret?
Duch.
A secret which, for State reasons, it has been necessary
to preserve for twenty years.
Duke.
When you were a prattling babe of six months old
infant son and heir of His Majesty the immeasurably wealthy
King of Barataria!
Cas.
Married to the infant son of the King of Barataria? It
was a most unpardonable liberty!
Duke.
Consider his extreme youth and forgive him. Shortly
after the ceremony that misguided monarch abandoned the
creed of his forefathers, and became a Wesleyan Methodist of
the most bigoted and persecuting type. The Grand Inquisitor,
determined that the innovation should not be perpetuated in
Barataria, caused your smiling and unconscious husband to be
stolen and conveyed to Venice. A fortnight since the Methodist
Monarch and all his Wesleyan Court were killed in an
insurrection, and we are here to ascertain the whereabouts of
your husband, and to hail you, our daughter, as Her Majesty,
the reigning Queen of Barataria!
(Kneels.)
Duch.
Your Majesty!
(Kneels.)
Duke.
It is at such moments as these that one feels how
necessary it is to travel with a full band.
Cas.
I, the Queen of Barataria! But I've nothing to wear!
We are practically penniless!
Duke.
That point has not escaped me. Although I am unhappily
in straightened circumstances at present, my social
influence is something enormous; and a Company, to be called
the Duke of Plaza-Toro, Limited, is in course of formation to
work me. An influential directorate has been secured, and I
myself shall join the Board after allotment.
Cas.
Am I to understand that the Queen of Barataria may
be called upon at any time to witness her honoured sire in
process of liquidation?
Duch.
The speculation is not exempt from that drawback.
If your father should stop, it will, of course, be necessary to
wind him up.
Cas.
But it's so undignified—it's so degrading! A Grandee
of Spain turned into a public company! Such a thing was
never heard of!
Duke.
My child, the Duke of Plaza-Toro does not follow
fashions—he leads them. He always leads everybody. When
he was in the army he led his regiment. He occasionally led
them into action. He invariably led them out of it.
Song.—Duke of Plaza-Toro.
In enterprise of martial kind,
When there was any fighting,
He led his regiment from behind—
He found it less exciting.
His place was at the fore, O—
That celebrated,
Cultivated,
Underrated
Nobleman,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
All.
You always found that knight, ha, ha!
That celebrated,
Cultivated,
Underrated
Nobleman,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
To hide they all proceeded,
No soldier in that gallant band
Hid half as well as he did.
He lay concealed throughout the war,
And so preserved his gore, O!
That unaffected,
Undetected,
Well-connected
Warrior,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
All.
He always took the lead, ha, ha!
That unaffected,
Undetected,
Well-connected
Warrior,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
Unless they left the service,
That hero hesitated not,
So marvellous his nerve is.
He sent his resignation in,
The first of all his corps, O!
That very knowing,
Over-flowing,
Easy-going
Paladin,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
All.
To men of grosser clay, ha, ha!
He always showed the way, ha, ha:
That very knowing,
Over-flowing,
Easy-going
Paladin,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
Recitative and Duettino.—Casilda and Luiz.
Oh, rapture, when alone together
Two loving hearts and those that bear them
May join in temporary tether,
Though Fate apart should rudely tear them,
Necessity, Invention's mother,
Compelled me/thee to a course of feigning—
But left alone with one another,
I will/Thou shalt atone for my/thy disdaining!
Cas.
Ah, well-beloved,
Mine angry frown
Is but a gown
That serves to dress
My gentleness!
Luiz.
Ah, well-beloved,
Thy cold disdain,
It gives no pain—
'Tis mercy, played
In masquerade!
Both.
Ah, well-beloved!
Cas.
Oh, Luiz, Luiz—what have you said! What have I
done! What have I allowed you to do!
Luiz.
Nothing, I trust, that you will ever have reason to
repent.
(Offering to embrace her.)
Cas.
(withdrawing from him).
Nay, Luiz, it may not be. I
have embraced you for the last time.
Luiz
(amazed).
Casilda!
Cas.
I have just learnt, to my surprise and indignation, that
I was wed in babyhood to the infant son of the King of Barataria!
Luiz.
The son of the King of Barataria? The child who
was stolen in infancy by the Inquisition?
Cas.
The same. But, of course, you know his story.
Luiz.
Know his story? Why I have often told you that my
mother was the nurse to whose charge he was entrusted!
Cas.
True. I had forgotten. Well, he has been discovered,
and my father has brought me here to claim his hand.
Luiz.
But you will not recognize this marriage? It took
place when you were too young to understand its import.
Cas.
Nay, Luiz, respect my principles and cease to torture
me with vain entreaties. Henceforth my life is another's.
But stay—the present and the future—they are
another's; but the past—that at least is ours, and none can
take it from us. As we may revel in naught else, let us revel
in that!
Cas.
I don't think I grasp your meaning.
Luiz.
Yet it is logical enough. You say you cease to love
me?
Cas.
(demurely).
I say I may not love you.
Luiz.
But you do not say you did not love me?
Cas.
I loved you with a frenzy that words are powerless to
express—and that but ten brief minutes since!
Luiz.
Exactly. My own—that is, until ten minutes since,
my own—my lately loved, my recently adored—tell me that
until, say a quarter of an hour ago, I was all in all to thee!
[Embracing her.
Cas.
I see your idea. It's ingenious; but don't do that.
[Releasing herself.
Luiz.
There can be no harm in revelling in the past.
Cas.
None whatever; but an embrace cannot be taken to act
retrospectively.
Luiz.
Perhaps not!
Cas.
We may recollect an embrace—I recollect many—but
we must not repeat them.
Luiz.
Then let us recollect a few!
(A moment's pause, as
they recollect, then both heave a deep sigh.)
Luiz.
Ah, Casilda, you were to me as the sun is to the earth!
Cas.
A quarter of an hour ago?
Luiz.
About that.
Cas.
And to think that, but for this miserable discovery, you
would have been my own for life!
Luiz.
Through life to death—a quarter of an hour ago!
Cas.
How greedily my thirsty ears would have drunk the
golden melody of those sweet words a quarter—well it's now
about twenty minutes since.
(Looking at her watch.)
Luiz.
About that. In such a matter one cannot be too
precise.
Cas.
Then, henceforth, our love is but a memory!
Luiz.
It must be so, Casilda!
Cas.
Luiz, it must be so!
Duet.—Casilda and Luiz.
Luiz.
There was a time—
A time for ever gone—ah, woe is me!
It was no crime
To love but thee alone—ah, woe is me!
One aim one goal—
Each in the other's thrall,
Each all in all, ah, woe is me!
Ensemble.
Oh, bury, bury—let the grave close o'er
The days that were—that never will be more!
Oh, bury, bury love that all condemn,
And let the whirlwind mourn its requiem!
Cas.
Dead as the last year's leaves—
As gathered flowers—ah, woe is me!
Dead as the garnered sheaves,
That love of ours—ah, woe is me!
Born but to fade and die
When hope was high,
Dead and as far away
As yesterday—ah, woe is me!
Ensemble.
Oh, bury, bury—let the grave close o'er, etc.
Re-enter from the Ducal Palace the Duke and Duchess, followed by Don Alhambra Bolero, the Grand Inquisitor.
Duke.
My child, allow me to present to you His Distinction
Don Alhambra Bolero, the Grand Inquisitor of Spain. It was
His Distinction who so thoughtfully abstracted your infant
husband and brought him to Venice.
Don Al.
So this is the little lady who is so unexpectedly
called upon to assume the functions of Royalty! And a very
nice little lady, too!
Duke.
Jimp, isn't she?
Don Al.
Distinctly jimp. Allow me.
(Proceeds to inspect
her—she turns away scornfully.)
Naughty temper!
Duke.
You must make some allowance. Her Majesty's head
is a little turned by her access of dignity.
Don Al.
I could have wished that Her Majesty's access of
dignity had turned it in this direction.
(Aside.)
Prettily put!
Duch.
Unfortunately, if I am not mistaken, there appears to
be some little doubt as to His Majesty's whereabouts.
Cas.
A doubt as to his whereabouts? Then I may yet be
saved!
Don Al.
A doubt? Oh dear, no—no doubt at all! He is
here, in Venice, plying the modest but picturesque calling of a
gondolier. I can give you his address—I see him every day!
In the entire annals of our history there is absolutely no circumstance
so entirely free from all manner of doubt of any kind
whatever! Listen, and I'll tell you all about it.
And left him, gaily prattling
With a highly respectable gondolier,
Who promised the Royal babe to rear,
And teach him the trade of a timoneer
With his own beloved bratling.
And, considering all things, clever.
Of that there is no manner of doubt—
No probable, possible shadow of doubt—
No possible doubt whatever.
I sought that infant cherished,
That highly respectable gondolier
Was lying a corpse on his humble bier—
I dropped a Grand Inquisitor's tear—
That gondolier had perished.
Had doubled him up for ever.
Of that there is no manner of doubt—
No probable, possible shadow of doubt—
No possible doubt whatever.
To his terrible taste for tippling,
That highly respectable gondolier
Could never declare with a mind sincere
Which of the two was his offspring dear,
And which the Royal stripling!
Despite his best endeavour.
Of that there is no manner of doubt—
No probable, possible shadow of doubt—
No possible doubt whatever.
(This statement can't be parried)
Of a highly respectable gondolier:
Well, one of the two (who will soon be here)—
But which of the two is not quite clear—
Is the Royal Prince you married!
And you'll discover never
A tale so free from every doubt—
All probable, possible shadow of doubt—
All possible doubt whatever!
Cas.
Then do you mean to say that I am married to one of
two gondoliers, but it is impossible to say which?
Don Al.
Without any doubt of any kind whatever. But be
reassured: the nurse to whom your husband was entrusted is
of that delicately modulated instrument. (Indicating the drum.)
She can, no doubt, establish the King's identity
beyond all question.
Luiz.
Heavens, how did he know that?
Don Al.
My young friend, a Grand Inquisitor is always up
to date.
(To Cas.)
His mother is at present the wife of a
highly respectable and old-established brigand, who carries on
an extensive practice in the mountains around Cordova. Accompanied
by two of my emissaries, he will set off at once for
his mother's address. She will return with them, and if she
finds any difficulty in making up her mind, the persuasive
influence of the torture-chamber will jog her memory.
Recitative.
Cas.
But, bless my heart, consider my position!
I am the wife of one, that's very clear;
But who can tell, except by intuition,
Which is the Prince, and which the Gondolier?
Don All.
Submit to Fate without unseemly wrangle:
Such complications frequently occur—
Life is one closely complicated tangle:
Death is the only true unraveller!
Quintette.
Casilda, Duchess, Luiz, Duke, Inquisitor.
Straighten out life's tangled skein,
Why should we, in vain endeavour,
Guess and guess and guess again?
Life's a pudding full of plums,
Care's a canker that benumbs.
Wherefore waste our elocution
On impossible solution?
Life's a pleasant institution,
Let us take it as it comes!
We shall guess it all too soon;
Failure brings no kind of stigma—
Dance we to another tune!
String the lyre and fill the cup,
Lest on sorrow we should sup.
Hop and skip to Fancy's fiddle,
Hands across and down the middle—
Life's perhaps the only riddle
That we shrink from giving up!
[Exeunt all except Grand Inquisitor into Ducal Palace.
Chorus.
Knot that's insoluble,
Voices all voluble
Hail it with pride.
Bridegroom and bride!
Hail it with merriment;
It's an experiment
Frequently tried.
Bridegrooms all joyfully,
Brides, rather coyfully,
Stand at their side.
Bridegroom and bride!
We in sincerity,
Wish you prosperity,
Bridegroom and bride!
Song.—Tessa.
Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries;
Every sound becomes a song,
All is right and nothing's wrong!
From to-day and ever after
Let our tears be tears of laughter.
Every sigh that finds a vent
Be a sigh of sweet content!
When you marry, merry maiden,
Then the air with love is laden;
Every flower is a rose,
Every goose becomes a swan,
Every kind of trouble goes
Where the last year's snows have gone!
Sunlight takes the place of shade
When you marry, merry maid!
Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries;
Every sound becomes a song—
All is right, and nothing's wrong.
Gnawing Care and aching Sorrow
Get ye gone until to-morrow;
Jealousies in grim array,
Ye are things of yesterday!
When you marry, merry maiden,
Then the air with joy is laden;
All the corners of the earth
Ring with music sweetly played,
Worry is melodious mirth,
Grief is joy in masquerade;
All the year is merry May!
[At the end of the song Don Alhambra enters at back. The Gondoliers and Contadine shrink from him, and gradually go off, much alarmed.
Giu.
And now our lives are going to begin in real earnest!
What's a bachelor? A mere nothing—he's a chrysalis. He
can't be said to live—he exists.
Mar.
What a delightful institution marriage is! Why
have we wasted all this time? Why didn't we marry ten
years ago?
Tess.
Because you couldn't find anybody nice enough.
Gia.
Because you were waiting for us.
Mar.
I suppose that was the reason. We were waiting
for you without knowing it.
(Don Alhambra comes forward.)
Hallo!
Giu.
If this gentleman is an undertaker, it is a bad
omen.
Don Al.
Good morning. Festivities of some sort going on.
Giu.
(aside).
He is an undertaker!
(Aloud.)
No—a little
unimportant family gathering. Nothing in your line.
Don Al.
Somebody's birthday, I suppose?
Giu.
Yes, mine!
Tess.
And mine!
Gia.
And mine!
Mar.
And mine!
Don Al.
Curious concidence! And how old may you be.
Tess.
It's a rude question—but about ten minutes.
Don Al.
Surely you are jesting?
Tess.
In other words, we were married about ten minutes
since.
Don Al.
Married! You don't mean to say you are married?
Mar.
Oh yes, we are married.
Don Al.
What, both of you?
Gia.
All four of us.
Don Al.
(aside).
Bless my heart, how extremely awkward!
Gia.
You don't mind, I suppose?
Tess.
You were not thinking of either of us for yourself,
I presume? Oh, Giuseppe, look at him—he was! He's heart-broken!
Don Al.
No, no—I wasn't! I wasn't!
(Aside.)
What will the
Duke say?
Giu.
Now, my man
(slapping him on the back)
, we don't
want anything in your line to-day, and if your curiosity's
satisfied—
You mustn't call me your man. It's a liberty. I
don't think you know who I am.
Giu.
Not we, indeed! We are jolly gondoliers, the sons of
Baptisto Palmieri, who led the last revolution. Republicans,
heart and soul, we hold all men to be equal. As we abhor
oppression, we abhor kings; as we detest vain-glory, we detest
rank; as we despise effeminacy, we despise wealth. We are
Venetian gondoliers—your equals in everything except our
calling, and in that at once your masters and your servants.
Don Al.
Bless my heart, how unfortunate! One of you may
be Baptisto's son, for anything I know to the contrary; but the
other is no less a personage than the only son of the late King
of Barataria.
All.
What!
Don Al.
And I trust—I trust it was that one who slapped
me on the shoulder and called me his man!
Giu.
(Together).
One of us a king!
Mar.
(Together).
Not brothers!
Tess.
(Together).
The King of Barataria!
Gia.
(Together).
Well, who'd have thought it!
Mar.
(Together).
But which is it?
Don Al.
What does it matter? As you are both Republicans,
and hold kings in abhorrence, of course you'll abdicate at once.
(Going.)
Tes. and Gia.
Oh, don't do that!
(Marco and Giuseppe stop
him.)
Giu.
Well, as to that, of course there are kings and kings.
When I say that I detest kings, I mean I detest bad kings.
Don Al.
I see. It's a delicate distinction.
Giu.
Quite so. Now I can conceive a kind of king—an ideal
king—the creature of my fancy, you know—who would be
absolutely unobjectionable. A king, for instance, who would
abolish taxes and make everything cheap, except gondolas.
Mar.
And give a great many free entertainments to the
gondoliers.
Giu.
And let off fireworks on the Grand Canal, and engage
all the gondolas for the occasion.
Mar.
And scramble money on the Rialto among the
gondoliers.
Giu.
Such a king would be a blessing to his people, and if I
were a king, that is the sort of king I would be.
Don Al.
Come, I'm glad to find your objections are not
insuperable.
Mar. and Giu.
Oh, they're not insuperable.
Tess. and Gia.
No, they're not insuperable.
Besides, we are open to conviction. Our views may
have been hastily formed on insufficient grounds. They may
be crude, ill-digested, erroneous. I've a very poor opinion of
the politician who is not open to conviction.
Tess.
(to Gia.).
Oh, he's a fine fellow!
Gia.
Yes, that's the sort of politician for my money!
Don Al.
Then we'll consider it settled. Now, as the country
is in a state of insurrection, it is absolutely necessary that you
should assume the reins of Government at once; and, until it is
ascertained which of you is to be king, I have arranged that
you will reign jointly, so that no question can arise hereafter as
to the validity of any of your acts.
Mar.
As one individual?
Don Al.
As one individual.
Giu.
(linking himself with Marco).
Like this?
Don Al.
Something like that.
Mar.
And we may take our friends with us, and give them
places about the Court?
Don Al.
Undoubtedly.
Mar.
I'm convinced!
Giu.
So am I!
Tess.
Then the sooner we're off the better.
Gia.
We'll just run home and pack up a few things.
(Going.)
Don Al.
Stop, stop—that won't do at all—we can't have any
ladies.
(Aside.)
What will Her Majesty say!
All.
What!
Don Al.
Not at present. Afterwards, perhaps. We'll see.
Giu.
Why, you don't mean to say you are going to separate
us from our wives!
Don Al.
(aside).
This is very awkward!
(Aloud.)
Only for a
time—a few months. After all, what is a few months?
Tess.
But we've only been married half an hour!
(Weeps.)
Song.—Gianetta.
Our lives to part
From those to whom an hour ago
We were united!
Before our flowing hopes you stem,
Ah, look at them,
And pause before you deal this blow,
All uninvited!
You men can never understand,
That heart and hand
Cannot be separated when
We go a-yearning;
To idolize,
And only women's hearts, poor men,
To set you burning!
Ah me, you men will never understand
That woman's heart is one with woman's hand!
In womankind—
Some source of unexplained delight
(Unless you're jesting),
But what attracts you, I confess,
I cannot guess,
To me a woman's face is quite
Uninteresting!
If from my sister I were torn,
It could be borne—
I should, no doubt, be horrified.
But I could bear it;—
But Marco's quite another thing—
He is my King,
He has my heart, and none beside
Shall ever share it!
Ah me, you men will never understand
That woman's heart is one with woman's hand!
Finale.
Recitative.—Grand Inquisitor.
Do not give way to this uncalled-for grief,
Your separation will be very brief.
To ascertain which is the King
And which the other,
To Barataria's Court I'll bring
His foster-mother;
Her former nurseling to declare
She'll be delighted.
That settled, let each happy pair
Be reunited.
Mar., Giu., Tess., Gia.
Viva! His argument is strong!
Viva! We'll not be parted long!
Viva! It will be settled soon!
Viva! Then comes our honeymoon!
[Exit Don Alhambra.
Quartette.—Tessa, Gianetta, Marco, Giuseppe.
Gia.
Then one of us will be a Queen,
And sit on a golden throne,
With a crown instead
Of a hat on her head,
And diamonds all her own!
With a beautiful robe of gold and green,
I wonder whether
She'd wear a feather?
I rather think she should!
All.
Oh! 'tis a glorious thing, I ween,
To be a regular Royal Queen!
No half-and-half affair, I mean,
But a right-down regular Royal Queen!
Mar.
She'll drive about in a carriage and pair,
With the King on her left-hand side,
And a milkwhite horse,
As a matter of course,
Whenever she wants to ride!
With beautiful silver shoes to wear
Upon her dainty feet;
With endless stocks
Of beautiful frocks,
And as much as she wants to eat!
All.
Oh! 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.
Tess.
Whenever she condescends to walk,
Be sure she'll shine at that,
With her haughty stare,
And her nose in the air,
Like a well-born aristocrat!
At elegant high society talk
She'll bear away the bell,
With her “How de do?”
And her “How are you?”
And her “Hope I see you well!”
All.
Oh! 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.
Giu.
And double them into two,
And open their eyes
In blank surprise
At whatever she likes to do.
And everybody will roundly vow
She's fair as flowers in May,
And say, “How clever!”
At whatsoever
She condescends to say!
To be a regular Royal Queen!
No half-and-half affair, I mean,
But a right-down regular Queen!
Enter Chorus of Gondoliers and Contadine.
Chorus.
Now, pray, what is the cause of this remarkable hilarity?
This sudden ebullition of unmitigated jollity?
Or have you been adopted by a gentleman of quality?
Mar. and Giu.
Replying, we sing
As one individual,
As I find I'm a king
To my kingdom I bid you all.
I'm aware you object
To pavilions and palaces,
But you'll find I respect
Your Republican fallacies.
Chorus.
As they know we object
To pavilions and palaces,
How can they respect
Our Republican fallacies?
Marco and Giuseppe.
Some post we undertake to find
Congenial with his peace of mind—
And all shall equal be.
The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook,
The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook—
They all shall equal be.
The Aristocrat who hunts and shoots,
The Aristocrat who cleans our boots—
They all shall equal be!
The Noble Lord who cleans the plate—
The Noble Lord who scrubs the grate—
They all shall equal be!
The Lord High Coachman on the box—
The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks—
They all shall equal be!
Sing high, sing low,
Wherever they go,
They all shall equal be!
Chorus.
Wherever they go,
They all shall equal be!
The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook,
The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts,
The Aristocrat who cleans the boots,
The Noble Lord who rules the State,
The Noble Lord who scrubs the grate,
The Lord High Bishop orthodox,
The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks—
Wherever they go,
They all shall equal be!
Whichever you may be,
To you we sing,
But do not bend the knee.
It may be thou—
Likewise it may be thee—
So, hail! O King,
Whichever you may be!
Marco and Giuseppe
(together).
Then let's away—our island crown awaits me—
Conflicting feelings rend my soul apart!
The thought of Royal dignity elates me,
But leaving thee behind me breaks my heart!
[Addressing Tessa and Gianetta
Tessa and Gianetta
(together).
Farewell, my love; on board you must be getting;
But while upon the sea you gaily roam,
Remember that a heart for thee is fretting—
The tender little heart you've left at home!
Gia.
My wishes hear:
While you're away
It's understood
You will be good,
And not too gay.
To every trace
Of maiden grace
You will be blind,
And will not glance
By any chance
On womankind!
If you are wise,
You'll shut your eyes
'Till we arrive,
And not address
A lady less
Than forty-five.
You'll please to frown
On every gown
That you may see:
And, oh, my pet,
You won't forget
You've married me!
Whatever else you may forget,
In yonder isle beyond the sea,
Oh, don't forget you've married me!
Upon your bed
At set of sun.
You will not sing
Of anything
To any one.
You'll sit and mope
All day, I hope,
And shed a tear
Upon the life
Your little wife
Is passing here.
And if so be
You think of me,
Please tell the moon;
I'll read it all
In rays that fall
On the lagoon;
You'll be so kind
As tell the wind
How you may be,
And send me words
By little birds
To comfort me!
Whatever else you may forget,
In yonder isle beyond the sea,
Oh, don't forget you've married me!
Chorus (during which a “Xebeque” is hauled alongside the quay).
Then away we go to an island fair
That lies in a Southern sea:
We know not where, and we don't much care,
Wherever that isle may be.
The Men
(hauling on boat).
One, two, three,
Haul!
One, two, three,
Haul!
One, two, three,
Haul!
With a will!
All.
Then away we go, etc.
Solo.—Marco.
Away we go
To a balmy isle,
Where the roses blow
All the winter while.
All.
Then pull, yeo ho! and again yeo ho! (Hoisting sail.)
And again yeo ho! with a will!
When the breezes are a-blowing,
Then our ship will be a-going,
When they don't we shall all stand still!
That lies in a Southern sea,
We/They know not where, and we/they don't much care,
Wherever that isle may be!
[The Men embark on the “Xebeque.” Marco and Giuseppe embracing Gianetta and Tessa. The Girls wave a farewell to the Men as the curtain falls.
| The Gondoliers ; Or, The King of Bavataria | |