 | The Three Temptations |  |
Scene VI.
A very great Waste indeed.Enter Sir Tristram.
Sir T.
“To be, or not to be”—that's none so dusty,
Although the imitation's somewhat musty.
But is it nobler in the mind to suffer
The bondage of this necromantic buffer,
Or, with this Gordian knot of mystery, whether,
Like Alexander, cut it altogether?
I'm in a fix!
Enter Merlin.
Mer.
Then fix the fix on me,
And I'll unfix the fix in which you be.
Sir T.
Foul fiend, avaunt!
Mer.
Ha, ha! When they have won him,
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By far, too far, you've gone my aid to spurn;
You may go on, but never can return.
Sir T.
Never!
Mer.
Not never!—it would spoil the moral.
Sir T.
Won't a duet, then, best convey a quarrel?
Duet: Air, “Dashing white Sergeant.”
Sir T.
Had I a conjuror wot wouldn't go,
To serve a friend, a mile or so,
I wouldn't in the gallery
Disburse a sixpence him to see.
Mer.
It's very well to talk thus big;
But I'll make you tremble, dash my wig!
Hey, presto, cockalorum jig,
Et cetera!
Both.
For where's there a conjuror wot wouldn't go,
To serve a friend, a mile or so,
With such a prize at last to show
As he's gained already?
Mer.
Although you missed your second shy,
I couldn't help it—no, not I.
The chances are with all things prime;
We may have better luck next time.
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Then, on this final scheme intent,
With such a hope I am content;
And what I said I never meant,
Et cetera.
Both.
For where's there the conjuror wot wouldn't go,
To serve a friend, a mile or so,
When such a prize he has to show
As he's gained already?
Mer.
Advice imparted in a popular strain
Is—
Sir T.
Hush! break off! See where he stalks again.
Mer.
Then, that the Knight his mission may forego,
Our second bait of woman now we'll throw.
But surplus cooks the broth would spoil, you see;
So step aside, and yield this task to me.
Sir T.
Enough! To you I'll leave the rest, and try
For once to rest among the leaves close by.
If he resist those black eyes here, of course
You will supply some from another source.
[Exit.
Mer.
Then now to lull suspicion. Garments, hence!—
Here is an outfit at the least expense!
[His druidical robes fly off, and he appears as Gamekeeper.
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Sir L.
This road's a dreary one, I must confess—
Ha! Who's our friend here in the sporting dress?
He knows the road, perhaps.—Ho, there! I say,
How far to Castle Dolorous is it, pray?
Mer.
I'm not a milestone.
Sir L.
That I can suppose;
You keep the distance that the other shows.
But tell me, runs this road through yonder copse?
Mer.
It don't run nowhere—where it is it stops.
Sir L.
Sharp, short, and crusty!
Mer.
Just what those deserve
Who try to jam themselves in this preserve.
All poachers here we pack off in a trice hence.
Sir L.
You're sporting with me!
Mer.
Where's your sporting license?
Song: Air, “Rose of Lucerne.”
Mer.
I'm cross, as you may see,
For in this land there's danger;
Such games won't do for me,
For I'm the head-ranger.
For in this land there's danger;
Such games won't do for me,
For I'm the head-ranger.
Of hares I take care, and protect
From the stranger;
Then be a better boy,
Or my blows you'll discern.
From the stranger;
Then be a better boy,
Or my blows you'll discern.
Sir L.
I know no game, save that of me you make;
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I'm but a traveller.
Mer.
One who tales can weave
Marines may hear, but sailors won't believe.
Sir L.
No, on my word.
Mer.
That's quite another thing.
You to the Castle Dolorous I'll bring.
[Aside]
I think I've got him this time.
Sir L.
Is it near?
Mer.
Why, much too far for you to go, I fear.
Sir L.
It's dreary, very!
Mer.
Ay, but when you're near,
You'll find more beauties than at first appear.
A miss is equal to a mile—that knowing,
I'll show you now the miles you'll miss in going.
[Merlin leads Sir Lionel into centre of stage, and a number of Young Ladies appear.
Sir L.
Gracious, what beauty!
Mer.
Ah, I thought you'd stare.
Sir L.
No prospect ever have I seen so fair.
What eyes!
Mer.
[aside]
He's mine!
Sir L.
What grace!
Mer.
He can't resist.
Sir L.
These lips eclipse all lips that e'er were kissed!
Mer.
The scenery here has some delightful features.
Sir L.
Enchanting forms!
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Yes, they're enchanting creatures!
Sir L.
I must confess this beauty charms my mind.
Mer.
[aside]
Then you're in Castle Indolence confined.
Sir L.
Yet what are these to me?
Mer.
Ha!
Sir L.
At the best,
One constant heart's worth more than all the rest.
Loving but one, these tempters tempt in vain;
They gain a loss.
Mer.
And I have lost again!—
Girls, to the rescue! Bring your shields in action,
On which this youth will find each great attraction.
[Each Young Lady brings from the side a shield severally inscribed, “Dances,” “Plays,” “Speaks French,” “Knows Italian,” “Works Berlin-wool,” “Sings divinely,” “Makes puddings,” &c. They arrange themselves with the above in front.
Sir L.
Each fitted to adorn some loftier station;
But such self-praise needs little commendation.
Morgana La Faye appears.
Mer.
My hated rival!
Morg.
Ay, thus learn from me
The meaning true of every shield you see.
[Each shield is turned towards the audience,
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Morg.
These are the misses that through life betray.
In every pause there's danger; hence, away!
This vain delusion hath deceived your eyes—
The place you seek, behold, before you lies!
Sir L.
A thousand thanks!
Mer.
I here feel rather small.
What, ho, my fiery dragon! One and all,
Be witness; here I swear to have revenge.
My name is Merlin—“Number 1 Stonehenge!”
[Young Ladies disappear. Exeunt Morgana La Faye and Sir Lionel.
Enter Sir Tristram.
Sir T.
I wonder what has come of Merlin's tricks!
The fabled cat that traversed burning bricks
Felt much as I do. In suspense I keep,
As one who, venturing on a Derby sweep,
Pays for a chance in preference to a dinner,
And wonders whether he has drawn the winner!
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Hollo! what have we here? The postmark, “Sky”—
It's Merlin's hand—now then for his reply.
[Reads]
“All's up! I'm off!”—My head in rage is whirlin'.—
“P.S. You're booked, and will be called for.—Merlin.”
No hope! Confusion! Love and vengeance baffled,
As hopeless both as though at Margate raffled.
Duped, diddled, done for, still I will not flinch!
No! I'll dispute possession inch by inch!
He comes!—Now, fiend of fearful form and power,
Before who's sight the boldest man will cower,
I summon thee this stripling to destroy!
Dost hear me?
[Gruff Voice without]
I believe you, my b-boy!
Enter Sir Lionel.
Sir L.
Now yield, or else thy wretched life I take!
Sir T.
Never! You've got a conquest yet to make.
Appear, thou fiend of Whitecross, home of debtors—
Ensnare this victim in thy crushing fetters!
[Sir Tristram goes through scene, and Fiend appears through it. The face represents a paper kite—the body like that of a spider, and a kind of train
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Sir L.
What horrid monster crosses now my track?
A spider's body, and a paper back,
Inscribed with many names in various hands!
Explain, what fearful form before me stands?
Fiend.
I never stand, but like a racehorse run—
I'm “An Accommodation Bill,” just done!
Touch me, you're lost—friends, homes, and hearts I sunder.
Come on!
Sir L.
I will, with one, two, three, and under!
[Combat; the Fiend overthrown.
Fiend.
Stop! you're invulnerable; I cry peccavi!
I cannot raise the wind, I'll take my Davy.
Sir L.
Away, then, vile destroyer!
Fiend.
Ah, I'm sure,
Once taken up, you'll never see me more.
[Fiend sinks through trap.
Sir L.
“Unreal mockery, hence!” Now, fiendish elf,
The trap for others set you've found yourself.
What farther trial?
Morgana La Faye and La Belle Isonde appear through scene.
Morg.
None, this is your last;
Through life's temptations have you nobly past.
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And here's the prize from thraldom you release!
Sir L.
[embracing Isonde]
A rich reward indeed for what I've done!
Morg.
Take her; she's yours, and has been bravely won.
Sir L.
My love alone must testify my joy.
Morg.
And now this airy fabric I'll destroy.
As virtue's meed, behold the friends you miss
In this—the Haven of Domestic Bliss.
| The Three Temptations | |