________________________________________________
_ ACT II
Scene -- Throne Room in the Palace. Night.
Fitzbattleaxe discovered, singing to Zara.
RECITATIVE -- Fitzbattleaxe.
Oh, Zara, my beloved one, bear with me!
Ah, do not laugh at my attempted C!
Repent not, mocking maid, thy girlhood's choice--
The fervour of my love affects my voice!
SONG -- Fitzbattleaxe.
A tenor, all singers above
This doesn't admit of a question,
Should keep himself quiet,
Attend to his diet
And carefully nurse his digestion;
But when he is madly in love
It's certain to tell on his singing--
You can't do the proper chromatics
With proper emphatics
When anguish your bosom is wringing!
When distracted with worries in plenty,
And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,
And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice,
Now observe--sings a high note,
You see, I can't do myself justice!
I could sing if my fervour were mock,
It's easy enough if you're acting--
But when one's emotion
Is born of devotion
You mustn't be over-exacting.
One ought to be firm as a rock
To venture a shake in vibrato,
When fervour's expected
Keep cool and collected
Or never attempt agitato.
But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,
And his lips appear pasted together,
And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe--sings a high note,
It's no use--I can't do myself justice!
ZARA.
Why, Arthur, what does it matter? When the higher
qualities of the heart are all that can be desired, the higher
notes of the voice are matters of comparative insignificance.
Who thinks slightingly of the cocoanut because it is husky?
Besides
demurely, you are not singing for an engagement
putting her hand in his,
you have that already!
FITZ.
How good and wise you are! How unerringly your practiced
brain winnows the wheat from the chaff--the material from
the merely incidental!
ZARA.
My Girton training, Arthur. At Girton all is wheat, and
idle chaff is never heard within its walls! But tell me,
is not all working marvelously well? Have not our Flowers
of Progress more than justified their name?
FITZ.
We have indeed done our best. Captain Corcoran and I
have, in concert, thoroughly remodeled the sister-services--and
upon so sound a basis that the South Pacific trembles at
the name of Utopia!
ZARA.
How clever of you!
FITZ.
Clever? Not a bit. It's easy as possible when the
Admiralty and Horse Guards are not there to interfere. And so
with the others. Freed from the trammels imposed upon them by
idle Acts of Parliament, all have given their natural
talents full play and introduced reforms which, even in Eng-
land, were never dreamt of!
ZARA.
But perhaps the most beneficent changes of all has been
effected by Mr. Goldbury, who, discarding the exploded
theory that some strange magic lies hidden in the number Seven,
has applied the Limited Liability principle to individuals,
and every man, woman, and child is now a Company Limited with
liability restricted to the amount of his declared Capital!
There is not a christened baby in Utopia who has not
already issued his little Prospectus!
FITZ.
Marvelous is the power of a Civilization which can trans-
mute, by a word, a Limited Income into an Income Limited.
ZARA.
Reform has not stopped here--it has been applied even to
the costume of our people. Discarding their own barbaric
dress, the natives of our land have unanimously adopted the
tasteful fashions of England in all their rich entirety.
Scaphio and Phantis have undertaken a contract to supply the
whole of Utopia with clothing designed upon the most approved
English models--and the first Drawing-Room under the new
state of things is to be held here this evening.
FITZ.
But Drawing-Rooms are always held in the afternoon.
ZARA.
Ah, we've improved upon that. We all look so much better
by candlelight! And when I tell you, dearest, that my Court
train has just arrived, you will understand that I am
longing to go and try it on.
FITZ.
Then we must part?
ZARA.
Necessarily, for a time.
FITZ.
Just as I wanted to tell you, with all the passionate
enthusiasm of my nature, how deeply, how devotedly I love you!
ZARA.
Hush! Are these the accents of a heart that really feels?
True love does not indulge in declamation--its voice is
sweet, and soft, and low. The west wind whispers when he
woos the poplars!
DUET -- Zara and Fitzbattleaxe.
ZARA.
Words of love too loudly spoken
Ring their own untimely knell;
Noisy vows are rudely broken,
Soft the song of Philomel.
Whisper sweetly, whisper slowly,
Hour by hour and day by day;
Sweet and low as accents holy
Are the notes of lover's lay.
BOTH.
Sweet and low, etc.
FITZ.
Let the conqueror, flushed with glory,
Bid his noisy clarions bray;
Lovers tell their artless story
In a whispered virelay.
False is he whose vows alluring
Make the listening echoes ring;
Sweet and low when all-enduring
Are the songs that lovers sing!
BOTH.
Sweet and low, etc.
Exit Zara. Enter King dressed as Field-Marshal.
KING.
To a Monarch who has been accustomed to the uncontrolled
use of his limbs, the costume of a British Field-Marshal is,
perhaps, at first, a little cramping. Are you sure that
this is all right? It's not a practical joke, is it? No
one has a keener sense of humor than I have, but the
First Statutory Cabinet Council of Utopia Limited must be
conducted with dignity and impressiveness. Now, where are the
other five who signed the Articles of Association?
FITZ.
Sir, they are here.
Enter Lord Dramaleigh, Captain Corcoran, Sir Bailey Barre,
Mr. Blushington, and Mr. Goldbury from different entrances.
KING.
Oh!
Addressing them
Gentlemen, our daughter holds her
first Drawing-Room in half an hour, and we shall have
time to make our half-yearly report in the interval. I am
necessarily unfamiliar with the forms of an English Cabinet
Council--perhaps the Lord Chamberlain will kindly put us
in the way of doing the thing properly, and with due regard
to the solemnity of the occasion.
LORD D.
Certainly--nothing simpler. Kindly bring your chairs
forward--His Majesty will, of course, preside.
They range their chairs across stage like Christy Minstrels. King
sits center, Lord Dramaleigh on his left, Mr. Goldbury on his
right, Captain Corcoran left of Lord Dramaleigh, Captain
Fitzbattleaxe right of Mr. Goldbury, Mr. Blushington extreme
right, Sir Bailey Barre extreme left.
KING.
Like this?
LORD D.
Like this.
KING.
We take your word for it that this is all right. You are
not making fun of us? This is in accordance with the
practice at the Court of St. James's?
LORD D.
Well, it is in accordance with the practice at the Court
of St. James's Hall.
KING.
Oh! it seems odd, but never mind.
SONG -- King.
Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses.
Which empties our police courts, and abolishes divorces.
CHORUS.
Divorce is nearly obsolete in England.
KING.
No tolerance we show to undeserving rank and splendour;
For the higher his position is, the greater the offender.
CHORUS.
That's maxim that is prevalent in England.
KING.
No peeress at our drawing-room before the Presence passes
Who wouldn't be accepted by the lower middle-classes.
Each shady dame, whatever be her rank, is bowed out
neatly.
CHORUS.
In short, this happy country has been Anglicized completely
Is really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicizing
We have brought about--Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England--with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!
KING.
Our city we have beautified--we've done it willy-nilly--
And all that isn't Belgrave Square is Strand and
Piccadilly.
CHORUS.
We haven't any slummeries in England!
KING.
The chamberlain our native stage has purged beyond a question.
Of "risky" situation and indelicate suggestion;
No piece is tolerated if it's costumed indiscreetly--
CHORUS.
In short this happy country has been Anglicized completely!
It really is surprising, etc.
KING.
Our peerage we've remodelled on an intellectual basis,
Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races--
CHORUS.
We are going to remodel it in England.
KING.
The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seek admission,
And literary merit meets with proper recognition--
CHORUS.
As literary merit does in England!
KING.
Who knows but we may count among our intellectual chickens
Like you, an Earl of Thackery and p'r'aps a Duke of Dickens--
Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais when they come we'll
welcome sweetly--
CHORUS.
In short, this happy country has been Anglicized completely!
It really is surprising, etc.
At the end all rise and replace their chairs.
KING.
Now, then for our first Drawing-Room. Where are the
Princesses? What an extraordinary thing it is that since
European looking-glasses have been supplied to the Royal bed-
rooms my daughters are invariably late!
LORD D.
Sir, their Royal Highnesses await your pleasure in the Ante-room.
KING.
Oh. Then request them to do us the favor to enter at once.
Enter all the Royal Household, including besides the Lord
Chamberlain the Vice-Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, the
Master of the Buckhounds, the Lord High Treasurer, the Lord Steward,
the Comptroller of the Household, the Lord-in-Waiting, the Field
Officer in Brigade Waiting, the Gold and Silver Stick, and the
Gentlemen Ushers. Then enter the three Princesses their
trains carried by Pages of Honor, Lady Sophy, and the
Ladies-in-Waiting.
KING.
My daughters, we are about to attempt a very solemn
ceremonial, so no giggling, if you please. Now, my Lord
Chamberlain, we are ready.
LORD D.
Then, ladies and gentlemen, places, if you please. His
Majesty will take his place in front of the throne, and will
be so obliging as to embrace all the debutantes.
LADY SOPHY much shocked.
KING.
What--must I really?
LORD D.
Absolutely indispensable.
KING.
More jam for the Palace Peeper!
The King takes his place in front of the throne,
the Princess Zara on his left, the two younger
Princesses on the left of Zara.
KING.
Now, is every one in his place?
LORD D.
Every one is in his place.
KING.
Then let the revels commence.
Enter the ladies attending the Drawing-Room. They
give their cards to the Groom-in-Waiting, who passes
them to the Lord-in-Waiting, who passes them to the
Vice-Chamberlain, who passes them to the Lord Chamberlain,
who reads the names to the King as each lady approaches.
The ladies curtsey in succession to the King and the
three Princesses, and pass out. When all the presentations
have been accomplished, the King, Princesses, and
Lady Sophy come forward, and all the ladies re-enter.
RECITATIVE -- King
This ceremonial our wish displays
To copy all Great Britain's courtly ways.
Though lofty aims catastrophe entail,
We'll gloriously succeed or nobly fail!
UNACCOMPANIED CHORUS
Eagle High in Cloudland soaring--
Sparrow twittering on a reed--
Tiger in the jungle roaring--
Frightened fawn in grassy mead--
Let the eagle, not the sparrow,
Be the object of your arrow--
Fix the tiger with your eye--
Pass the fawn in pity by.
Glory then will crown the day--
Glory, glory, anyway!
Exit all.
Enter Scaphio and Phantis, now dressed as judges in
red and ermine robes and undress wigs. They come down
stage melodramatically -- working together.
DUET -- Scaphio and Phantis.
SCA.
With fury deep we burn
Phan.
We do--
SCA.
We fume with smothered rage--
Phan.
We do--
SCA.
These Englishmen who rule supreme,
Their undertaking they redeem
By stifling every harmless scheme
In which we both engage--
Phan.
They do--
SCA.
In which we both engage--
Phan.
We think it is our turn--
SCA.
We do--
Phan.
We think our turn has come--
SCA.
We do.
Phan.
These Englishmen, they must prepare
To seek at once their native air.
The King as heretofore, we swear,
Shall be beneath our thumb--
SCA.
He shall--
Phan.
Shall be beneath out thumb--
SCA.
He shall.
BOTH.
with great energy
For this mustn't be, and this won't do.
If you'll back me, then I'll back you,
No, this won't do,
No, this mustn't be.
With fury deep we burn...
Enter the King.
KING.
Gentlemen, gentlemen--really! This unseemly display of
energy within the Royal precincts is altogether unpardon-
able. Pray, what do you complain of?
SCAPHIO.
furiously
What do we complain of? Why, through the
innovations introduced by the Flowers of Progress all our
harmless schemes for making a provision for our old age
are ruined. Our Matrimonial Agency is at a standstill, our
Cheap Sherry business is in bankruptcy, our Army Clothing
contracts are paralyzed, and even our Society paper, the
Palace Peeper, is practically defunct!
KING.
Defunct? Is that so? Dear, dear, I am truly sorry.
SCAPHIO.
Are you aware that Sir Bailey Barre has introduced a law
of libel by which all editors of scurrilous newspapers are
publicly flogged--as in England? And six of our editors
have resigned in succession! Now, the editor of a scurrilous
paper can stand a good deal--he takes a private thrashing
as a matter of course--it's considered in his salary--but no
gentleman likes to be publicly flogged.
KING.
Naturally. I shouldn't like it myself.
PHANTIS.
Then our Burlesque Theater is absolutely ruined!
KING.
Dear me. Well, theatrical property is not what it was.
PHANTIS.
Are you aware that the Lord Chamberlain, who has his own
views as to the best means of elevating the national
drama, has declined to license any play that is not in blank
verse and three hundred years old--as in England?
SCAPHIO.
And as if that wasn't enough, the County Councillor has
ordered a four-foot wall to be built up right across the
proscenium, in case of fire--as in England.
PHANTIS.
It's so hard on the company--who are liable to be roasted
alive--and this has to be met by enormously increased
salaries--as in England.
SCAPHIO.
You probably know that we've contracted to supply the
entire nation with a complete English outfit. But perhaps you
do not know that, when we send in our bills, our customers
plead liability limited to a declared capital of
eighteenpence, and apply to be dealt with under the
Winding-up Act--as in England?
KING.
Really, gentlemen, this is very irregular. If you will
be so good as to formulate a detailed list of your
grievances in writing, addressed to the Secretary of Utopia Limited,
they will be laid before the Board, in due course, at
their next monthly meeting.
SCAPHIO.
Are we to understand that we are defied?
KING.
That is the idea I intended to convey.
PHANTIS.
Defied! We are defied!
SCAPHIO.
furiously
Take care--you know our powers. Trifle with
us, and you die!
TRIO -- Scaphio, Phantis, and King.
SCA.
If you think that, when banded in unity,
We may both be defied with impunity,
You are sadly misled of a verity!
Phan.
If you value repose and tranquility,
You'll revert to a state of docility,
Or prepare to regret your temerity!
KING.
If my speech is unduly refractory
You will find it a course satisfactory
At an early Board meeting to show it up.
Though if proper excuse you can trump any,
You may wind up a Limited Company,
You cannot conveniently blow it up!
Scaphio and Phantis thoroughly baffled
KING.
Dancing quietly
Whene'er I chance to baffle you
I, also, dance a step or two--
Of this now guess the hidden sense:
Scaphio and Phantis consider the question as King
continues dancing quietly--then give it up.
It means complete indifference!
SCA. AND PHAN.
Of course it does--indifference!
It means complete indifference!
King dancing quietly. Sca. and Phan. dancing furiously.
SCA. AND PHAN.
As we've a dance for every mood
With pas de trois we will conclude,
What this may mean you all may guess--
It typifies remorselessness!
KING
It means unruffled cheerfulness!
King dances off placidly as Scaphio and Phantis dance furiously.
PHANTIS.
breathless
He's right--we are helpless! He's no longer a
human being--he's a Corporation, and so long as he
confines himself to his Articles of Association we can't
touch him! What are we to do?
SCAPHIO.
Do? Raise a Revolution, repeal the Act of Sixty-Two,
reconvert him into an individual, and insist on his
immediate explosion!
Tarara enters.
Tarara, come here; you're the
very man we want.
TARARA.
Certainly, allow me.
Offers a cracker to each; theysnatch
them away impatiently.
That's rude.
SCAPHIO.
We have no time for idle forms. You wish to succeed to
the throne?
TARARA.
Naturally.
SCAPHIO.
Then you won't unless you join us. The King has defied
us, and, as matters stand, we are helpless. So are you.
We must devise some plot at once to bring the people about
his ears.
TARARA.
A plot?
PHANTIS.
Yes, a plot of superhuman subtlety. Have you such a
thing about you?
TARARA.
feeling
No, I think not. No. There's one on my dressing-table.
SCAPHIO.
We can't wait--we must concoct one at once, and put it
into execution without delay. There is not a moment to spare!
TRIO -- Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara.
Ensemble
With wily brain upon the spot
A private plot we'll plan,
The most ingenious private plot
Since private plots began.
That's understood. So far we've got
And, striking while the iron's hot,
We'll now determine like a shot
The details of this private plot.
SCA.
I think we ought--whispers
PHAN. AND TAR.
Such bosh I never heard!
Phan.
Ah! happy thought!--whispers
SCA. AND TAR.
How utterly dashed absurd!
TAR.
I'll tell you how--whispers
SCA. AND PHAN.
Why, what put that in your head?
SCA.
I've got it now--whispers
PHAN. AND TAR.
Oh, take him away to bed!
Phan.
Oh, put him to bed!
TAR.
Oh, put him to bed!
SCA.
What, put me to bed?
PHAN. AND TAR.
Yes, certainly put him to bed!
SCA.
But, bless me, don't you see--
Phan.
Do listen to me, I pray--
TAR.
It certainly seems to me--
SCA.
Bah--this is the only way!
Phan.
It's rubbish absurd you growl!
TAR.
You talk ridiculous stuff!
SCA.
You're a drivelling barndoor owl!
Phan.
You're a vapid and vain old muff!
All, coming down to audience.
So far we haven't quite solved the plot--
They're not a very ingenious lot--
But don't be unhappy,
It's still on the tapis,
We'll presently hit on a capital plot!
SCA.
Suppose we all--whispers
Phan.
Now there I think you're right.
Then we might all--whispers
TAR.
That's true, we certainly might.
I'll tell you what--whispers
SCA.
We will if we possibly can.
Then on the spot-- whispers
PHAN. AND TAR.
Bravo! A capital plan!
SCA.
That's exceedingly neat and new!
Phan.
Exceedingly new and neat.
TAR.
I fancy that that will do.
SCA.
It's certainly very complete.
Phan.
Well done you sly old sap!
TAR.
Bravo, you cunning old mole!
SCA.
You very ingenious chap!
Phan.
You intellectual soul!
All, coming down and addressing audience.
At last a capital plan we've got
We won't say how and we won't say what:
It's safe in my noddle--
Now off we will toddle,
And slyly develop this capital plot!
Business. Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis in one direction,
and Tarara in the other.
Enter Lord Dramaleigh and Mr. Goldbury.
LORD D.
Well, what do you think of our first South Pacific
Drawing-Room? Allowing for a slight difficulty with the
trains, and a little want of familiarity with the use of
the rouge-pot, it was, on the whole, a meritorious affair?
GOLD.
My dear Dramaleigh, it redounds infinitely to your credit.
LORD D.
One or two judicious innovations, I think?
GOLD.
Admirable. The cup of tea and the plate of mixed
biscuits were a cheap and effective inspiration.
LORD D.
Yes--my idea entirely. Never been done before.
GOLD.
Pretty little maids, the King's youngest daughters, but timid.
LORD D.
That'll wear off. Young.
GOLD.
That'll wear off. Ha! here they come, by George! And
without the Dragon! What can they have done with her?
Enter Nekaya and Kalyba timidly.
NEKAYA.
Oh, if you please, Lady Sophy has sent us in here,
because Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe are going on, in the
garden, in a manner which no well-conducted young ladies
ought to witness.
LORD D.
Indeed, we are very much obliged to her Ladyship.
KALYBA.
Are you? I wonder why.
NEKAYA.
Don't tell us if it's rude.
LORD D.
Rude? Not at all. We are obliged to Lady Sophy because
she has afforded us the pleasure of seeing you.
NEKAYA.
I don't think you ought to talk to us like that.
KALYBA.
It's calculated to turn our heads.
NEKAYA.
Attractive girls cannot be too particular.
KALYBA.
Oh pray, pray do not take advantage of our unprotected innocence.
GOLD.
Pray be reassured--you are in no danger whatever.
LORD D.
But may I ask--is this extreme delicacy--this shrinking
sensitiveness--a general characteristic of Utopian young
ladies?
NEKAYA.
Oh no; we are crack specimens.
KALYBA.
We are the pick of the basket. Would you mind not coming
quite so near? Thank you.
NEKAYA.
And please don't look at us like that; it unsettles us.
KALYBA.
And we don't like it. At least, we do like it; but it's wrong.
NEKAYA.
We have enjoyed the inestimable privilege of being
educated by a most refined and easily shocked English lady,
on the very strictest English principles.
GOLD.
But, my dear young ladies---
KALYBA.
Oh, don't! You mustn't. It's too affectionate.
NEKAYA.
It really does unsettle us.
GOLD.
Are you really under the impression that English girls
are so ridiculously demure? Why, an English girl of the
highest type is the best, the most beautiful, the bravest, and
the brightest creature that Heaven has conferred upon this
world of ours. She is frank, open-hearted, and fearless, and
never shows in so favorable a light as when she gives her
own blameless impulses full play!
NEKAYA and KALYBA.
Oh, you shocking story!
GOLD.
Not at all. I'm speaking the strict truth. I'll tell
you all about her.
SONG -- Mr. Goldbury.
A wonderful joy our eyes to bless,
In her magnificent comeliness,
Is an English girl of eleven stone two,
And five foot ten in her dancing shoe!
She follows the hounds, and on the pounds--
The "field" tails off and the muffs diminish--
Over the hedges and brooks she bounds,
Straight as a crow, from find to finish.
At cricket, her kin will lose or win--
She and her maids, on grass and clover,
Eleven maids out--eleven maids in--
And perhaps an occasional "maiden over!"
Go search the world and search the sea,
Then come you home and sing with me
There's no such gold and no such pearl
As a bright and beautiful English girl!
With a ten-mile spin she stretches her limbs,
She golfs, she punts, she rows, she swims--
She plays, she sings, she dances, too,
From ten or eleven til all is blue!
At ball or drum, til small hours come
Chaperon's fans concealing her yawning
She'll waltz away like a teetotum.
And never go home til daylight's dawning.
Lawn-tennis may share her favours fair--
Her eyes a-dance, and her cheeks a-glowing--
Down comes her hair, but then what does she care?
It's all her own and it's worth the showing!
Go search the world, etc.
Her soul is sweet as the ocean air,
For prudery knows no haven there;
To find mock-modesty, please apply
To the conscious blush and the downcast eye.
Rich in the things contentment brings,
In every pure enjoyment wealthy,
Blithe and beautiful bird she sings,
For body and mind are hale and healthy.
Her eyes they thrill with right goodwill--
Her heart is light as a floating feather--
As pure and bright as the mountain rill
That leaps and laughs in the Highland heather!
Go search the world, etc.
QUARTET
NEK.
Then I may sing and play?
LORD D.
You may!
KAL.
Then I may laugh and shout?
GOLD.
No doubt!.
NEK.
These maxims you endorse?
LORD D.
Of course!
KAL.
You won't exclaim "Oh fie!"
GOLD.
Not I!
GOLD.
Whatever you are--be that:
Whatever you say--be true:
Straightforwardly act--
Be honest--in fact,
Be nobody else but you.
LORD D.
Give every answer pat--
Your character true unfurl;
And when it is ripe,
You'll then be a type
Of a capital English girl.
ALL.
Oh sweet surprise--oh, dear delight,
To find it undisputed quite,
All musty, fusty rules despite
That Art is wrong and Nature right!
NEK.
When happy I,
With laughter glad
I'll wake the echoes fairly,
And only sigh
When I am sad--
And that will be but rarely!
KAL.
I'll row and fish,
And gallop, soon--
No longer be a prim one--
And when I wish
To hum a tune,
It needn't be a hymn one?
Gold and Lord D.: No, no!
It needn't be a hymn one!
ALL
dancing
Oh, sweet surprise and dear delight
To find it undisputed quite--
All musty, fusty rules despite--
That Art is wrong and Nature right!
Dance, and off
Enter Lady Sophy
RECITATIVE -- Lady Sophy.
Oh, would some demon power the gift impart
To quell my over-conscientious heart--
Unspeak the oaths that never had been spoken,
And break the vows that never should be broken!
SONG -- Lady Sophy
When but a maid of fifteen year,
Unsought--unplighted--
Short petticoated--and, I fear,
Still shorter-sighted--
I made a vow, one early spring,
That only to some spotless King
Who proof of blameless life could bring
I'd be united.
For I had read, not long before,
Of blameless kings in fairy lore,
And thought the race still flourished here--
Well, well--
I was a maid of fifteen year!
The King enters and overhears this verse
Each morning I pursued my game
An early riser;
For spotless monarchs I became
An advertiser:
But all in vain I searched each land,
So, kingless, to my native strand
Returned, a little older, and
A good deal wiser!
I learnt that spotless King and Prince
Have disappeared some ages since--
Even Paramount's angelic grace--
Ah me!--
Is but a mask on Nature's face!
King comes forward
KING.
Ah, Lady Sophy--then you love me!
For so you sing--
LADY S.
Indignant and surprise. Producing "Palace Peeper"
No, by the stars that shine above me,
Degraded King!
For while these rumours, through the city bruited,
Remain uncontradicted, unrefuted,
The object thou of my aversion rooted,
Repulsive thing!
KING.
Be just--the time is now at hand
When truth may published be.
These paragraphs were written and
Contributed by me!
LADY S.
By you? No, no!
KING.
Yes, yes. I swear, by me!
I, caught in Scaphio's ruthless toil,
Contributed the lot!
LADY S.
That that is why you did not boil
The author on the spot!
KING.
And that is why I did not boil
The author on the spot!
LADY S.
I couldn't think why you did not boil!
KING.
But I know why I did not boil
The author on the spot!
DUET -- Lady Sophy and King
LADY S. Oh, the rapture unrestrained
Of a candid retractation!
For my sovereign has deigned
A convincing explanation--
And the clouds that gathered o'er
All have vanished in the distance,
And the Kings of fairy lore
One, at least, is in existence!
KING.
Oh, the skies are blue above,
And the earth is red and rosal,
Now the lady of my love
Has accepted my proposal!
For that asinorum pons
I have crossed without assistance,
And of prudish paragons
One, at least, is in existence!
King and Lady Sophy dance gracefully. While this is going
on Lord Dramaleigh enters unobserved with Nekaya and Capt.
Fitzbattleaxe. The two girls direct Zara's attention to
the King and Lady Sophy, who are still dancing affectionately
together. At this point the King kisses Lady Sophy, which
causes the Princesses to make an exclamation. The King
and Lady Sophy are at first much confused at being detected,
but eventually throw off all reserve, and the four couples
break into a wild Tarantella, and at the end exeunt severally.
Enter all the male Chorus, in great excitement, for
various entrances, led by Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara,
and followed by the female Chorus.
CHORUS.
Upon our sea-girt land
At our enforced command
Reform has laid her hand
Like some remorseless ogress--
And made us darkly rue
The deeds she dared to do--
And all is owing to
Those hated Flowers of Progress!
So down with them!
So down with them!
Reform's a hated ogress.
So down with them!
So down with them!
Down with the Flowers of Progress!
Flourish. Enter King, his three daughters,
Lady Sophy, and the Flowers of Progress.
KING.
What means this most unmannerly irruption?
Is this your gratitude for boons conferred?
SCAPHIO.
Boons? Bah! A fico for such boons, say we!
These boons have brought Utopia to a standstill!
Our pride and boast--the Army and the Navy--
Have both been reconstructed and remodeled
Upon so irresistible a basis
That all the neighboring nations have disarmed--
And War's impossible! Your County Councillor
Has passed such drastic Sanitary laws
That all doctors dwindle, starve, and die!
The laws, remodeled by Sir Bailey Barre,
Have quite extinguished crime and litigation:
The lawyers starve, and all the jails are let
As model lodgings for the working-classes!
In short--Utopia, swamped by dull Prosperity,
Demands that these detested Flowers of Progress
Be sent about their business, and affairs
Restored to their original complexion!
KING.
to Zara
My daughter, this is a very unpleasant state
of things. What is to be done?
ZARA.
I don't know--I don't understand it. We must have
omitted something.
KING.
Omitted something? Yes, that's all very well, but---
Sir Bailey Barre whispers to Zara.
ZARA.
suddenly
Of course! Now I remember! Why, I had
forgotten the most essential element of all!
KING.
And that is?---
ZARA.
Government by Party! Introduce that great and glorious
element--at once the bulwark and foundation of England's
greatness--and all will be well! No political measures
will endure, because one Party will assuredly undo all that
the other Party has done; and while grouse is to be shot, and
foxes worried to death, the legislative action of the
country will be at a standstill. Then there will be sickness
in plenty, endless lawsuits, crowded jails, interminable
confusion in the Army and Navy, and, in short, general and
unexampled prosperity!
ALL.
Ulahlica! Ulahlica!
PHANTIS.
aside
Baffled!
SCAPHIO.
But an hour will come!
KING.
Your hour has come already--away with them, and let them
wait my will! Scaphio and Phantis are led off in custody.
From this moment Government by Party is adopted, with all
its attendant blessings; and henceforward Utopia will no
longer be a Monarchy Limited, but, what is a great deal
better, a Limited Monarchy!
FINALE
ZARA.
There's a little group of isles beyond the wave--
So tiny, you might almost wonder where it is--
That nation is the bravest of the brave,
And cowards are the rarest of all rarities.
The proudest nations kneel at her command;
She terrifies all foreign-born rapscallions;
And holds the peace of Europe in her hand
With half a score invincible battalions!
Such, at least, is the tale
Which is born on the gale,
From the island which dwells in the sea.
Let us hope, for her sake
That she makes no mistake--
That she's all the professes to be!
KING.
Oh, may we copy all her maxims wise,
And imitate her virtues and her charities;
And may we, by degrees, acclimatize
Her Parliamentary peculiarities!
By doing so, we shall in course of time,
Regenerate completely our entire land--
Great Britain is the monarchy sublime,
To which some add others do not Ireland.
Such at least is the tale, etc.
CURTAIN.
[THE END]
W. S. Gilbert's play: Utopia Limited; Or, The Flowers Of Progress
_
Read previous: Act 1
Table of content of Utopia Limited; Or, The Flowers Of Progress
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book
