The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Part 18

BAR. This pleasing fact our souls will cheer, With fifty thousand pounds a year We could indulge in table beer!

RUD. Get out!

BAR. We could--I've tried it!

RUD. Yes, yes, of course you've tried it!

BOTH. Oh, he who has an income clear Of fifty thousand pounds a year--

BAR. Can purchase all his fancy loves Conspicuous hats--

RUD. Two shilling gloves--

BAR. (doubtfully). Two-shilling gloves?

RUD. (positively). Two-shilling gloves--

BOTH. Yes, think of that, two-shilling gloves!

BAR. Cheap shoes and ties of gaudy hue, And Waterbury watches, too-- And think that he could buy the lot Were he a donkey--

RUD. Which he's not!

BAR. Oh no, he's not!

RUD. Oh no, he's not!

BOTH (dancing).

That kind of donkey he is not!

Then let us be modestly merry, And rejoice with a derry down derry.

For to laugh and to sing Is a rational thing- It's a joy economical, very!

[Exit BARONESS.

RUD. Oh, now for my detective's report. (Opens letter.) What's this! Another conspiracy! A conspiracy to depose me!

And my private detective was so convulsed with laughter at the notion of a conspirator selecting him for a confidant that he was physically unable to arrest the malefactor! Why, it'll come off! This comes of engaging a detective with a keen sense of the ridiculous! For the future I'll employ none but Scotchmen. And the plot is to explode to-morrow! My wedding day! Oh, Caroline, Caroline! (Weeps.) This is perfectly frightful!

What's to be done? I don't know! I ought to keep cool and think, but you can't think when your veins are full of hot soda-water, and your brain's fizzing like a firework, and all your faculties are jumbled in a perfect whirlpool of tumblication! And I'm going to be ill! I know I am! I've been living too low, and I'm going to be very ill indeed!

SONG--RUDOLPH.

When you find you're a broken-down critter, Who is all of a trimmle and twitter, With your palate unpleasantly bitter, As if you'd just eaten a pill-- When your legs are as thin as dividers, And you're plagued with unruly insiders, And your spine is all creepy with spiders, And you're highly gamboge in the gill-- When you've got a beehive in your head, And a sewing machine in each ear, And you feel that you've eaten your bed, And you've got a bad headache down here-- When such facts are about, And these symptoms you find In your body or crown-- Well, you'd better look out, You may make up your mind You had better lie down!

When your lips are all smeary--like tallow, And your tongue is decidedly yallow, With a pint of warm oil in your swallow, And a pound of tin-tacks in your chest-- When you're down in the mouth with the vapours, And all over your Morris wall-papers Black-beetles are cutting their capers, And crawly things never at rest-- When you doubt if your head is your own, And you jump when an open door slams-- Then you've got to a state which is known To the medical world as "jim-jams"

If such symptoms you find In your body or head, They're not easy to quell-- You may make up your mind You are better in bed, For you're not at all well!

(Sinks exhausted and weeping at foot of well.)

Enter LUDWIG.

LUD. Now for my confession and full pardon. They told me the Grand Duke was dancing duets in the Market-place, but I don't see him. (Sees RUDOLPH.) Hallo! Who's this? (Aside.) Why, it is the Grand Duke!

RUD. (sobbing). Who are you, sir, who presume to address me in person? If you've anything to communicate, you must fling yourself at the feet of my Acting Temporary Sub-Deputy a.s.sistant Vice-Chamberlain, who will fling himself at the feet of his immediate superior, and so on, with successive foot-flingings through the various grades--your communication will, in course of time, come to my august knowledge.

LUD. But when I inform your Highness that in me you see the most unhappy, the most unfortunate, the most completely miserable man in your whole dominion-- RUD. (still sobbing). You the most miserable man in my whole dominion? How can you have the face to stand there and say such a thing? Why, look at me! Look at me! (Bursts into tears.) LUD. Well, I wouldn't be a cry-baby.

RUD. A cry-baby? If you had just been told that you were going to be deposed to-morrow, and perhaps blown up with dynamite for all I know, wouldn't you be a cry-baby? I do declare if I could only hit upon some cheap and painless method of putting an end to an existence which has become insupportable, I would unhesitatingly adopt it!

LUD. You would? (Aside.) I see a magnificent way out of this! By Jupiter, I'll try it! (Aloud.) Are you, by any chance, in earnest?

RUD. In earnest? Why, look at me!

LUD. If you are really in earnest--if you really desire to escape scot-free from this impending--this unspeakably horrible catastrophe--without trouble, danger, pain, or expense--why not resort to a Statutory Duel?

RUD. A Statutory Duel?

LUD. Yes. The Act is still in force, but it will expire to-morrow afternoon. You fight--you lose--you are dead for a day. To-morrow, when the Act expires, you will come to life again and resume your Grand Duchy as though nothing had happened.

In the meantime, the explosion will have taken place and the survivor will have had to bear the brunt of it.

RUD. Yes, that's all very well, but who'll be fool enough to be the survivor?

LUD. (kneeling). Actuated by an overwhelming sense of attachment to your Grand Ducal person, I unhesitatingly offer myself as the victim of your subjects' fury.

RUD. You do? Well, really that's very handsome. I daresay being blown up is not nearly as unpleasant as one would think.

LUD. Oh, yes it is. It mixes one up, awfully!

RUD. But suppose I were to lose?

LUD. Oh, that's easily arranged. (Producing cards.) I'll put an Ace up my sleeve--you'll put a King up yours. When the drawing takes place, I shall seem to draw the higher card and you the lower. And there you are!

RUD. Oh, but that's cheating.

LUD. So it is. I never thought of that. (Going.) RUD. (hastily). Not that I mind. But I say--you won't take an unfair advantage of your day of office? You won't go tipping people, or squandering my little savings in fireworks, or any nonsense of that sort?

LUD. I am hurt--really hurt--by the suggestion.

RUD. You--you wouldn't like to put down a deposit, perhaps?

LUD. No. I don't think I should like to put down a deposit.

RUD. Or give a guarantee?

LUD. A guarantee would be equally open to objection.

RUD. It would be more regular. Very well, I suppose you must have your own way.

LUD. Good. I say--we must have a devil of a quarrel!

RUD. Oh, a devil of a quarrel!

LUD. Just to give colour to the thing. Shall I give you a sound thrashing before all the people? Say the word--it's no trouble.

RUD. No, I think not, though it would be very convincing and it's extremely good and thoughtful of you to suggest it.

Still, a devil of a quarrel!

LUD. Oh, a devil of a quarrel!

RUD. No half measures. Big words--strong language--rude remarks. Oh, a devil of a quarrel!

LUD. Now the question is, how shall we summon the people?

RUD. Oh, there's no difficulty about that. Bless your heart, they've been staring at us through those windows for the last half-hour!

FINALE.

RUD. Come hither, all you people-- When you hear the fearful news, All the pretty women weep'll, Men will shiver in their shoes.

LUD. And they'll all cry "Lord, defend us!"

When they learn the fact tremendous That to give this man his gruel In a Statutory Duel--

BOTH. This plebeian man of shoddy-- This contemptible n.o.body-- Your Grand Duke does not refuse!

(During this, Chorus of men and women have entered, all trembling with apprehension under the impression that they are to be arrested for their complicity in the conspiracy.)

CHORUS.

With faltering feet, And our muscles in a quiver, Our fate we meet With our feelings all unstrung!

If our plot complete He has managed to diskiver, There is no retreat-- We shall certainly be hung!

RUD. (aside to LUDWIG).