The Pretty Druidess ; or, The Mother, The Maid, And The Miseltoe Bough An Extravaganza, (Founded On Bellini's Opera, "Norma,") |
| 1. |
Scene I.
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| 2. |
| 3. |
 | The Pretty Druidess ; or, The Mother, The Maid, And The Miseltoe Bough |  |
5
Scene I.
—Sanctum of the Druid Priestesses—the interior of a cavern cut in the side of a rock, a large opening at back, with practicable parapet in roughly hewn stone. The sides of the cavern are hung with matting. Oil lamps hang from the roof, also a large bough of miseltoe. At the back, through the opening, a moonlit landscape is seen. Adalgisa, Arminia, Ingonda, and other Priestesses discovered in the act of tatting articles for a Fancy Fair.
Song and Chorus.
(Air.—“We're all nodding.”)
Chor.
We're all tatting,
Tat, tat, tatting, tatting, tatting,
Tatting, at our house at home.
Adal.
Such a simple little piece of work was surely never planned.
Take a little bit of cotton and a shuttle in your hand,
And go on chatting,
Chat, chat, chatting, chatting, chatting,
Chatting, at our house at home.
Chor.
And go on chatting, &c.
Adal.
It's a kind of occupation, too, that innocent I call,
And very much more proper than, for instance, if we all
Were to go ratting,
Rat, rat, ratting, ratting, ratting.
Ratting, at our house at home.
Chor.
Were to go ratting, &c.
Arm.
(Air.—“We're all nodding.”)
Chor.
We're all tatting,
Tat, tat, tatting, tatting, tatting,
Tatting, at our house at home.
Adal.
Such a simple little piece of work was surely never planned.
Take a little bit of cotton and a shuttle in your hand,
And go on chatting,
Chat, chat, chatting, chatting, chatting,
Chatting, at our house at home.
Chor.
And go on chatting, &c.
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It's a kind of occupation, too, that innocent I call,
And very much more proper than, for instance, if we all
Were to go ratting,
Rat, rat, ratting, ratting, ratting.
Ratting, at our house at home.
Chor.
Were to go ratting, &c.
I'm sick and tired of working, I declare,
For such an end—to stock a Fancy Fair,
And drive, with money gathered from each stall,
Those dear delightful Romans out of Gaul!
Ing.
The Romans! Ah, that joy won't last, I fear!
There's no attraction to detain them here.
They'll soon from our vicinity be gone,
That dreadful Norma's always looking on!
Arm.
Then they're so handsome, courteous, gallant, brave,
Each quartering himself, the cunning knave,
Upon some priest who has a pretty daughter!
Adal.
Yes—taken furnished lodgings by the quarter!
Think, frail young women, of their wicked pillages,
Think of the bustling towns and quiet villages,
These Roman monsters from our hands have wrested!
Indeed our very capital's invested!
It's bad to have one's capital, I hear,
Invested in Italian bonds, my dear.
Arm.
But they're such splendid fellows for flirtation,
So dashing in their tone and conversation!
Adal.
Yes, in their language, dear, I've often thought
They “dash” much more than even soldiers ought.
Arm.
I love them, one and all!
Adal.
Arminia, pooh!
Arm.
And so, I verily believe, do you!
(all laugh.)
Adal.
(aside).
To keep my secret vainly have I tried!
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I'm even jealous of the beards that hide
One half of every soldier's facial graces.
Adal.
My dear, if they uncovered all their faces,
They'd be too lovely—so, like men of sense,
They claim to be 'eard in their own defence.
But soft—here's Oroveso—work away!
(They resume their work. Enter Oroveso, L.U.E.)
Oro.
I rather think I heard some priestess say,
She loved a Roman—loved her country's foe!
Adal.
We're taught to love our enemies, you know.
Oro.
It was a priestess whom I overheard!
Your's is nice conduct, Miss, upon my word.
These soldiers to flirtation onwards egging,
While gentlemanly priests are going begging!
Look at that bearded ruffian Pollio.
He's quartered on me and I ought to know!
Come, priestesses, how would you like a few
Stout chaps like Pollio billeted on you?
Adal.
(demurely).
Were that calamity to happen, it
Would clearly be our duty to submit.
Oro.
The fellow's one interminable hoax,
Begins his senseless irritating jokes
As soon as he gets up—while still its dark!
Adal.
A healthy custom—rising with the lark!
Oro.
Who stuffs the priest's arm-chair with pins and needles?
Who fills the priest's umbrella with black-beadles?
Who pulls the priest's moustachios by the roots?
Who sends the priest fictitious cheques on Coutts?
Who places cactus in his trowser legs?
Who takes and hardboils all his new-laid eggs?
Who treads upon his toes until he limps?
Who fills the sacerdotal boots with shrimps?
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Who does all this? Why, Pollio does, deuce take him!
Sticks walnut-shells upon my cat, for shoes,
And teaches her to wake her tuneful mews.
Through him my dog, who formerly, poor feller,
Was black and tan, is now a startling yeller!
My pigs he sets a-squeaking like a good 'un,
My pork gives me no peace—except pease pudden!
At meals he never leaves me at my ease,
And, thanks to him, my dinners are all teaze.
He's always planning jokes on me, the vulture!
Adal.
Because his tastes incline to waggery-culture.
Oro.
But he's a soldier—helmet, sword, and boots.
If he's so fond of pastoral pursuits,
Why don't he dress accordingly, my charmer?
Adal.
He does—he always wears a suit of (f) armour.
Oro.
Well, well, well, well, that's quite enough, my dear,
'Twas not to bandy words the priest came here,
Great Norma's coming to address the meeting,
Prepare to give her an appropriate greeting.
Enter Norma, attended by Clotilda.
Chorus of Priestesses. (Air—“Norma viene.”)
Norma's drums are loudly beating,
Norma will address the meeting,
Give her an appropriate greeting,
She is welcome, quite, I'm sure!
Recitative, Norma. (“Sediziose voce.”—Norma.)
Attention, please, young ladies!
You are aware that a Fair called Fancy
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And I am here, at some personal inconvenience,
To guide and regulate that Fair, called Fancy!
(Air changes to “Babbletyboobledore.”)
Nor.
Young ladies, I'm going to superintend
Our Family Fancy Fair—
So gather around, if you would befriend
Our Family Fancy Fair.
For if we desire our funds to feed,
And make all our enemies freely bleed,
Ño weapons are ours, except, indeed,
A Family Fancy Fair!
All.
A Family Fancy—Family Fancy—
Family Fancy Fair;
A Family Fancy—Family Faucy—
Family Fancy Fair!
Nor.
In yonder domain we'll hold our tryst—
Our Family Fancy Fair—
A liberal gentleman can't resist
A Family Fancy Fair.
To flatter and wheedle, and dazzle and coax,
These racketty, rollicking Roman folks,
We're carefully planning that splendid hoax,
A Family Fancy Fair!
All.
A Family Fancy—Family Fancy, &c.
Nor.
It's a carnival gay of empty pates,
A Family Fancy Fair!
No code of propriety regulates
A Family Fancy Fair!
Though people are easily shocked or awed
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That fidgetty, finicky, flimsy fraud,
A Family Fancy Fair!
All.
A Family Fancy—Family Fancy, &c.
Nor.
A cup of tea—my customary fluid—
And the last number of the “Daily Druid.”
(They give her a newspaper. She reads.)
Humph—innovation forward boldly marches—
A priestess brought before the Dean of Arches!
Adal.
What has she done—oh, tell us, I implore!
Nor.
(sternly)
Put on her mystic wreath, wrong side before!
All.
The monster!
Nor.
Money market—last advices—
Advertisements—hem! (reads)
“Human sacrifices.
If fine fat subjects you desire to kill,
Use Thorley's Food for Victims”—yes, we will.
The fashion plate my curious bosom probes—
The last new thing in sacerdotal robes—
Patterns for chasubles and albs, most neat?
Poplins for surplices! How truly sweet!
Frizettes are going out.
Arm.
Oh, that's too bad—
Nor.
And back hair will be died a quiet plaid—
Skirts will be longer—
Adal.
So they may, with reason!
Nor.
And—nonsense! bodies will be worn next season!
Come, come, that's cheering news, indeed, to read.
Now to the evening's business we'll proceed.
(to Adal.)
Go, close the gates, or otherwise, you know,
Some foe may come—which were not cummy fo!
(aside, to Clo.)
Oh, wretched Norma, forced to lend a hand,
To drive her husband Pollio from the land,
Far from his loving wifey,—and to know
That he would only be too glad to go!
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But why not give it up, while time there's still?
Nor.
It is my father Oroveso's will,
That by establishing a fair, we all
May raise the funds to drive him out of Gaul.
But this sound code of business we'll arrange,
We only take bank notes, and give no change,
And won't sell anything to any buyer
That anyone could possibly require!
(aloud)
Now, priestesses, be good enough to tell
The articles that you've prepared to sell.
Adal.
(producing cap)
A smoking cap—
Nor.
(aside to Clo.)
Ah, there, at least, he's thwarted,
For (hush!)
tobacco isn't yet imported!
Adal.
Some scented soap.
Nor.
(aside to Clo.)
They're certain to refuse it—
Italians, generally, do not use it!
Adal.
A razor-case, completely stocked.
Nor.
(aside to Clo.)
That's brave!
For warriors are not allowed to shave!
Adal.
Braces, embroidered with initial letter.
Nor.
Embroidered braces? (aside to Clo.)
Nothing could be better!
No Roman wears, in all the martial train,
The garments they're intended to sustain!
Adal.
How shall we bear ourselves to-morrow, pray?
Nor.
Attention, and I'll point you out the way.
With pretty speech accost both old and young,
And speak it trippingly upon the tongue.
But if you mouth it with a hoyden laugh,
With clumsy ogling, and uncomely chaff,
As I have oft seen done at fancy fairs,
I had as lief a huckster sold my wares.
Avoid all so-called “beautifying,” dear.
Oh, it offends me to the soul to hear,
The things that men among themselves will say
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Whose face, when with cosmetics she has cloyed it,
Out-Rachel's Rachel! Pray you, girls, avoid it!
Neither be ye too tame, but, ere you go,
Provide yourselves with sprigs of mistletoe,
Offer them coyly to the Roman herd,
But don't you “suit the action to the word,”
For in the very torrent of your passion,
Remember modesty is still in fashion.
Oh, there be ladies whom I've seen hold stalls—
Ladies of rank, my dears, to whom befalls
Neither the accent nor the gait of ladies;
So clumsily “made up” with Bloom of Cadiz,
Powder, rouge, lip-salve—that I've fancied then
They were the work of Nature's journeymen!
Let her, whose hair is black with lustre mellow,
Not dream of using dye to turn it yellow—
She'll find it argues (when at length she loses it)
A sad ambition in the fool that uses it!
Now get you ready.
(Norma and Priestesses exeunt at opposite entrances, the Priestesses curtsying, and singing the following Chorus.)
Chorus of Priestesses.
(Air—“Norma viene,” second portion).
Norma now retreat is beating,
Norma has addressed the meeting.
Our appropriate form of greeting
Gave her great delight I'm sure.
(Lights down. Pollio and Flavius appear at the back with dark lanterns, climbing into the room by means of a rope ladder.)
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Now, in the Druidesses' room we stand,
And Adalgisa should be close at hand.
Here they perform their mystic rites, no doubt—
The “rites of women,” that we hear about.
Which means the right to wield, with all facility,
Authority without responsibility.
(calling.)
Ho! Adalgisa, are you quite alone?
Flav.
Take heed, lest this affair of your's be known.
You're Norma's wife, you know. Oh, fie, you Turk!
Pol.
I brought you here to watch—go, do your work—
My sword shall hasten you, if you're too slow.
The watch, when it is wounded, p'raps will go,
My Adalgisa comes—away, away!
[Exit Flavius to watch: enter Adalgisa (R.).]
Adal.
Oh, Pollio, where have you been all day.
Pol.
Down at the Club, engaged on divers matters—
My Club's the Rag—and your's?
Adal.
Oh, mine's the Tatters!
I've been at work for Norma's fancy fair.
Pol.
A lively way of passing time, I swear.
I never could distinctly understand,
How first you came to join this dismal band.
Adal.
On yonder hill I lived—my father's home—
When hither came the splendid troops of Rome.
Thence, I could see, no soldier dreamt of hurting them—
Young Druid Priestesses at work, converting them.
I saw the soldiers seriously incline,
And longed to make that pious duty mine.
So, coyly shrinking from its worldly pale,
I left the mountain and I took the veil,
Now that we're shut out from the world away,
We spend two-thirds at least of every day
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(piously)
That is a task of which I never tire—
Then we go out—collect forgotten pew-rates—
Embroider slippers for young Druid curates,
With whom to yonder fane we daily go
To worship the mysterious miseltoe!
(indicating bough suspended from roof.)
Pol.
The miseltoe—of course—we'll pledge our vows
Under the sacred shadow of its boughs.
Adal.
But stay—it is our deity, up here,
Suppose it takes offence—
Pol.
Oh, never fear.
Though it may see, be sure 'twill never breathe it—
It wouldn't notice things so much beneath it!
(He kisses her.)
Duet.—Pollio and Adalgisa.
Air—“The Bells of Aberdovey.”
Pol.
Pity, pity, take on me—
I'm distracted, as you see!
Oh, when will Pollio wedded be
To the pretty Adalgisa!
Adal.
Spare me—spare me, oh my love!
Oh, leave me in my sacred grove,
Says the pretty Adalgisa!
You forget my solemn vows
To great Irminsul plighted.
Pol.
Do so, too, and be my spouse
And we will be united.
Both.
Pity, pity, take on me,
I'm distracted as you see.
Oh, when will/Oh, ne'er can Pollio wedded be
To the pretty Adalgisa!
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Kindly—blindly be my love.
Oh leave, oh leave this sacred grove,
Pretty, pretty Adalgisa!
Adal.
I will beg great Norma's grace,
Though she wears a solemn face,
Her heart is in the proper place,
Says the pretty Adalgisa.
Blindly—blindly, O my love,
Oh, I'll forsake this sacred grove,
Says the pretty Adalgisa.
Pol.
Better far be taking wing,
And follow when I beckon;
Norma's grace is not a thing
On which to safely reckon!
Adal.
Pity, pity, take on me,
I'm distracted as you see;
Oh, when will Pollio wedded be
To the pretty Adalgisa!
Both.
Bear me—bear me, oh my love,
Oh, bear me from this sacred grove,
Says the pretty Adalgisa!
Enter Flavius in great terror.
Fla.
Oh, lord! there's Norma's train—as I expected
Pol.
Pooh—we're quite safe.
Fla.
Yes, safe—to be detected.
Oh, lord! oh, lord!
Pol.
Come, hold your tongue, you muff.
Adal.
(looking off)
Oh, Pollio, it is Norma, sure enough—
Her train is coming to this temple votive,
Drawn by an anything, but lucky motive!
Pol.
Confusion! Flavius—soothe her in her fright.
(calling without)
What ho! there! Help! help!
Murder! bring a light!
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Another victim for your mystic tomb!
A man has entered Adalgisa's room.
Take him and truss him, torture him and toast him,
Wrench him and wrack him, raddle him and roast him!
(Two Priestesses seize Flavius.)
Who is the monster?
Enter Norma.
Nor.
(looking at Flavius)
Flavius, as he's named of you!
Pol.
Flavius of ours! Oh, Flavius, I'm ashamed of you!
Fla.
Oh, come, a joke's a joke—release me, do!
Nor.
It probably will prove no joke to you.
He dies!
Oro.
'Tis said that all who bare the sting
Of such high treason, high trees on shall swing!
Nor.
(correcting him)
Be burnt upon a faggot, is it not!
Oro.
Upon a faggot—just so—I fagot.
Let him escape a broiling, if he can—
Away, away with him!
Adal.
But should the man
Conjure our mercy, or turn out a struggler?
Oro.
Then stop his conjuring tricks—
Adal.
How?
Oro.
Cut his juggler!
Song and Chorus—Norma, Pollio, Adal., Flavius, Oroveso, and others.
Air—“Hot Corn.”
Nor.
Oh, my,
Never did I!
You're an uncommonly nice young man!
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Fly, fly,
Can if you try!
Terrible sacrifice, young man!
Flav.
Do, do,
Pity me, you
Wouldn't much like to be hung, you know!
Pol.
Pooh, pooh,
Get away, do!
Better to hold your tongue, you know!
Nor.
Out of my sight—I fret, I fume!
Terrible, terrible tortures loom.
Take him away to his dreadful doom—
He's found in Adalgisa's room!
Chor.
Take him away to his dreadful doom—
He's found in Adalgisa's room!
Ah—ah—ah—ah!
Air changes to “Boolabang” (Ching Chow Hi).
All.
Sound his knell, each outraged fury,
Ding, ding, ding, &c.
Let the trumpet loudly bray—
Ding, ding, dong, &c.
We will be both judge and jury—
Tzing! Tzing! Boom!
Take the wretched man away!
With a bang!
With a bang!
With a clang!
With a twang!
Pol.
(trumpet.)
Ta—ta—ra—ra, &c.
| The Pretty Druidess ; or, The Mother, The Maid, And The Miseltoe Bough | |