The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Part 136

DAME CARRUTHERS (Housekeeper to the Tower) Contralto

KATE (her Niece) Soprano

Chorus of YEOMEN of the Guard, GENTLEMEN, CITIZENS, etc.

SCENE: Tower Green

16th Century

ACT I

[Scene.-- Tower Green]

[Phoebe discovered spinning.

No. 1. When maiden loves, she sits and sighs (INTRODUCTION and SONG) Phoebe

PHOEBE When maiden loves, she sits and sighs, She wanders to and fro; Unbidden tear-drops fill her eyes, And to all questions she replies, With a sad "Heigh-ho!"

'Tis but a little word--"Heigh-ho!"

So soft, 'tis scarcely heard--"Heigh-ho!"

An idle breath-- Yet life and death May hang upon a maid's "Heigh-ho!"

When maiden loves, she mopes apart, As owl mopes on a tree; Although she keenly feels the smart, She cannot tell what ails her heart, With its sad "Ah, me!"

'Tis but a foolish sigh--"Ah, me!"

Born but to droop and die--"Ah, me!"

Yet all the sense Of eloquence Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"

Yet all the sense Of eloquence Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"

"Ah, me!", "Ah, me!"

Yet all the sense Of eloquence Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah, me!"

[PHOEBE weeps

[Enter WILFRED

WILFRED Mistress Meryll!

PHOEBE [looking up] Eh! Oh! it's you, is it? You may go away,if you like. Because I don't want you, you know.

WILFRED Haven't you anything to say to me?

PHOEBE Oh yes! Are the birds all caged? The wild beasts all littered down? All the locks, chains, bolts, and bars in good order? Is the Little Ease sufficiently comfortable? The racks, pincers, and thumbscrews all ready for work? Ugh! you brute!

WILFRED These allusions to my professional duties are in doubtful taste. I didn't become a head-jailer because I like head-jailing. I didn't become an a.s.sistant- tormentor because I like a.s.sistant-tormenting. We can't all be sorcerers, you know. [PHOEBE is annoyed]

Ah! you brought that upon yourself.

PHOEBE Colonel Fairfax is not a sorcerer. He's a man of science and an alchemist.

WILFRED Well, whatever he is, he won't be one for long, for he's to be beheaded to-day for dealings with the devil. His master nearly had him last night, when the fire broke out in the Beauchamp [p.r.o.nounced Bee'cham]

Tower.

PHOEBE Oh! how I wish he had escaped in the confusion! But take care; there's still time for a reply to his pet.i.tion for mercy.

WILFRED Ah! I'm content to chance that. This evening at half- past seven-- ah! [Gesture of chopping off a head.]

PHOEBE You're a cruel monster to speak so unfeelingly of the death of a young and handsome soldier.

WILFRED Young and handsome! How do you know he's young and handsome?

PHOEBE Because I've seen him every day for weeks past taking his exercise on the Beauchamp [p.r.o.nounced Bee'cham]

Tower.

WILFRED Curse him!

PHOEBE There, I believe you're jealous of him, now. Jealous of a man I've never spoken to! Jealous of a poor soul who's to die in an hour!

WILFRED I am! I'm jealous of everybody and everything. I'm jealous of the very words I speak to you-- because they reach your ears-- and I mustn't go near 'em!

PHOEBE How unjust you are! Jealous of the words you speak to me! Why, you know as well as I do that I don't even like them.

WILFRED You used to like 'em.

PHOEBE I used to pretend I like them. It was mere politeness to comparative strangers.

[Exit PHOEBE, with spinning wheel

WILFRED I don't believe you know what jealousy is! I don't believe you know how it eats into a man's heart-- and disorders his digestion-- and turns his interior into boiling lead. Oh, you are a heartless jade to trifle with the delicate organization of the human interior.

No. 1A. When jealous torments (OPTIONAL SONG) Wilfred

WILFRED When jealous torments rack my soul, My agonies I can't control, Oh, better sit on red hot coal Than love a heartless jade.

The red hot coal will hurt no doubt, But red hot coals in time die out, But jealousy you can not rout, Its fires will never fade.

It's much less painful on the whole To go and sit on red hot coal 'Til you're completely flayed, Or ask a kindly friend to crack Your wretched bones upon the rack Than love a heartless jade, Than love a heartless jade.

The kerchief on your neck of snow I look on as a deadly foe, It goeth where I dare not go And stops there all day long.

The belt that holds you in its grasp Is to my peace of mind a rasp, It claspeth what I can not clasp, Correct me if I'm wrong.