University of Virginia Library

Scene 2.

—Norma's Home.
Enter Oroveso.
Oro.
A High Priest of Irminsul? am I so?
Perhaps—I don't say yes—I don't say no.
I temporize to see what news may go forth.
Humph. We shall see. Perhaps. Who knows?
And so forth.
So long I've lived in different disguises,
In hats and cloaks, and wigs of divers sizes;
In big false noses and in whiskers sham,
I've quite forgotten who I really am.
I had a card-case once, and took good care
To hide it, but I can't remember where.
I hid it—hoping to escape detection.
Now, could I bring back to my recollection
What secret hiding-place that card-case guards,
I might find out my name—it's “on the cards.”

Enter Pollio.
Pol.
I saw her enter here, I'll almost swear.
Is Adalgisa here?

Oro.
She is—in there.
She waits an interview with Norma now,
To ask her to release her from her vow.

Pol.
This to her presence testimony bears,
(takes up a respirator.)
The very respirator that she wears
When out of doors she takes her daily trips—
Come let me press by deputy her lips!
(kisses it enthusiastically.)
What a delicious flavour—little traitor!

Oro.
You rather seem to like my respirator!

Pol.
(in great disgust).
Yours?

Oro.
Yes.

Pol.
(overcome).
I don't feel well; are there no seats?

Oro.
He don't feel well! Poor fellow! Cloyed with sweets!
(Exit Oroveso.)

Enter Norma.
Nor.
So here you are at last. Six weeks have passed
Since poor deserted Norma saw you last!

Pol.
At Colney Hatch you ought to have a cell.

Nor.
In truth I'm nearly mad!

Pol.
You look han-well.

Nor.
Oh, am I not your better half!

Pol.
That's true!

Nor.
I am your mate.

Pol.
My mate and captain, too!

Nor.
Yet when we meet, you meet me with a frown.
At your desertion I could shower down
Of tears a deluge if I took the pains.

Pol.
A deluge? Yes; you always held the reins.

Nor.
Such love I've shown for you—such deep affection.

Pol.
Console yourself, my dear, with that reflection,
Virtue's it's own reward—the saying's true.

Nor.
All the reward it's like to get from you.
The bravo you employ to kill your foe,
Is he contented with a mere “bravo?”
Your light dragoons who fight for you afar,
Are they contented with a mere “hussar?”
Your tailor, too, who fits you for Pell Mell,
Wants payment more substantial than 'tis swell.
The tradesman who supplies your cheap veneers,
Think tables cheaply bought if paid with cheers.
And so the wife, who cooks your food at one,
Deserves some better payment than “well done.”

Duet.—Norma and Pollio.
“Egli gallo della checca.”—Elisir.
Nor.
Oh, vile deceiver,
To go and leave her!
It would not grieve her
If she were wise!

Pol.
What a clatter, what a clatter,
For an unimportant matter
She's as made as any hatter,
I've observ'd it 'ere to-day!

Nor.
Say, am I frightful,
Deformed or spiteful,
Of malice quite full—
A grim surprise?

Pol.
Was there ever such a rattle!
To escape a wordy battle
Take my money, good, and chattel,
Take my all and go away!

At the end, exit Pollio L. Enter Adal. R.
Adal.
Oh, Norma, from my shackles set me free,
I love a Roman, and he worships me!

Nor.
A Roman, and a heretic, indeed!

Adal.
No—I've converted him; he joins our creed.
Be a conniver at my plan, I pray,
And tell me I can eiver go or stay.

Nor.
You cannot be this Roman's legal wife,
Your oath has bound you to our band for life.
The tomb alone can free you from it now.

Adal.
If that's the purport of my dreadful vow,
Oh, cancel it.

Nor.
No need to make a scene,
You'll only cancel it in Kansal Green!

Adal.
Is there no way by which I may be gone?
No line of conduct I can hit upon
By which to free the chain by which I'm bound?

Nor.
No line at all—except the underground!

Adal.
(aside.)
There's nothing left for me, then, but desertion.

Nor.
How came you to engage in this conversion,
You're a mere novice—(of our band the least),
That was the work of an experienced priest?

Adal.
For months our priests had laboured, but in vain,
To win him to the faith that they maintain;
Still from their mouths he would not hear one word.
But as by accident I'd overheard,
That though he proved himself, in word and deed,
Deaf to the grand traditions of our creed,
He seemed susceptible to youth and beauty,
I volunteered for that unpleasant duty.

Nor.
(aside.)
So, I remember, seven years ago
I offered to convert my Pollio,
And acting on a rarely failing plan,
Converted him—into a married man!

Adal.
I laboured hard, and he, I'm proud to say,
Vowed he'd embrace my faith one summer day,
If I'd bestow in yon Druidic shade
On him one little kiss; and, as he made
Upon my doing so depend his bid,
I felt it was my duty—and I did.
And then, declaring that his heart was mine,
He posted me this perfumed valentine!

(showing valentine.)
Nor.
(aside.)
Hum! Strange that this fac-simile should be
Of one that villain Pollio sent to me;
One that for years I every morning kissed,
And one which somehow I have lately missed!

Adal.
For gallantry I found him well reputed.
He said such pretty things; that I refuted
The fallacy that Birds of Paradise
Do not descend upon the earth!

Nor.
(aside.)
How nice!
That's strange; for when I in my best arrayed me,
That was the compliment he always paid me!

Adal.
My eyes he'd praise in easy off-hand way;
It was a favourite joke of his to say,
He was so dazzled by their brilliant rays,
That on the darkest night he found them daze.

Nor.
(aside.)
That traitor Pollio often used to see
The very same phenomenon in me!

Adal.
My little boot he'd take and measure, thus;
And vow that if it were an omnibus,
In which six little inches wished to ride,
One inch at least would have to go outside.
Then, when I said that I was still too young,
In mimic anger he would stop my tongue,
And loudly vow that sixteen years were plenty.

Nor.
(relieved.)
Ah, Pollio's favourite age was nine and twenty!

Adal.
He praised my yellow hair, so neat and trim,
And wished this pretty blonde b'lon'd to him!
He'd snatch a tress—endeavour to secure it.

Nor.
(aside.)
Light hair? Ah, Pollio never could endure it,
He much preferred my ebon locks extensive,
Light hair, he always said, was too expensive!
Her weakness I should be the last to blame.
I've also loved a Roman! (aloud.)
Well, his name?

Adal.
Behold him here! (enter Pollio.)
My darling love

(embracing him.)
Nor.
(pulling her away.)
Audacious!
My husband Pollio, by all that's gracious!

Adal.
Your husband? Oh, unhand me—let me go!

Pol.
My conduct must seem singular, I know.

Nor.
So, then, it was upon his words you hung.
And you, for months, you've had upon your tongue
Five thousand pretty sayings, if you'd one,
For this phenomenon—for Norma none!

Nor.
This is the coloured hair you now think nice;
This is your present, “Bird of Paradise;”
This is the girl whose eyes are brilliant lights,
So brilliant that you find them days at nights;
These are the boots so small, that if inside
Six little inches ever wished to ride,
One inch must go outside, oh monster shady!

Pol.
I only said it “to oblige a lady.”

Nor.
You said you'd always love me, and no other!

Pol.
Love you—I'll always love you—as a mother.

Nor.
Am I mis-shapen, Pollio, or a fright?
Or even plain?

Pol.
A face that's covered quite
With wrinkled seams cannot be called unseemly.

Nor.
Oh, are not these hard lines?

Pol.
(looking into her face.)
They are—extremely.

Nor.
So this is what I've heard of wedded bliss;
But I'll have heavy damages for this!

Pol.
Oh, that's unnecessary, quite, my leddy—
You're damaged heavily enough already.

Nor.
He throws me over, in his reckless haste,
To wed this puny child!

Pol.
Well, for my taste,
You're much too big—so Pollio, you see,
Inclines to smaller her.

Adal.
That's bigger me!

Nor.
Your life, it's in my power to-day, to end.
You've married an Arch Druidess, my friend;
For which you may be burnt at any time.
Oh, can't you be content with one such crime?

Pol.
Be burnt alive? That's hard! I do confess
I sinned in wedding an Arch Druidess;
Yet that same sin, you'll probably admit,
Is one that brings its punishment with it!

Adal.
If it were known you'd married her, you would,
In truth, be roasted!

Pol.
By my friends, I should.

Adal.
If she's your wife, acknowledge her as such.

Nor.
Oh, am not I enough for you?

Pol.
Too much!

Nor.
Your reckless insolence completely drains
The heated blood that dashes through my veins.
My blushing cheeks now offer a refuge to it.

Pol.
You blush? Ha! ha! That's nothing when you're rouged to it!

Nor.
Perfidious monster!

Pol.
Bless us, what a scold!
A priestess, worthy of the rank you hold,
Should be well pleased to see a man, in truth,
Repenting the mistakes of early youth!
A suppliant for divorce now begs your ear,
His grief's unfeigned—his penitence sincere.
Don't fear that he'll relapse—you may be sure
He'll never marry Norma any more!

Trio.—Norma, Pollio, Adalgisa.
(Air from “Euryanthe.”)
Pol.
See Norma bounding,
On Pollio rounding,
Pours forth her anger—all flather, and fury, and sound!
Who thought of meeting
With such a greeting.
Truly I quail, though for pluck I'm renowned!

Adal.
Truly, I'm fearing
All her endearing,
Doesn't appear to appeal to his soul.

Pol.
Pardon my jeering,
Bother your leering;
Keep your emotions more under control!

Adal.
Oh, you traitor,
Human nature!
Such an unscrupulous, unconscientious individual, in the whole course of my life, I never yet did see!

Nor.
Adalgisa,
Pray you cease, ah.
Please be good enough to recollect that the gentleman in question belongs exclusively to me!

Pol.
Oh, grant me power;
Oh, grant me power,
These angry ladies somehow to control!
I'm no traitor,
Human natur!
These angry ladies how shall I control?

Nor. & Adal.
Great Norma bounding,
On Pollio rounding, &c.