The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Part 95

(Sir Roderic enters, from his picture. He comes down the stage.)

ROD. What is the matter? Have you carried her off?

ROB. I have--she is there--look at her--she terrifies me!

ROD. (looking at Hannah). Little Nannikin!

HAN. (amazed). Roddy-doddy!

ROD. My own old love! Why, how came you here?

HAN. This brute--he carried me off! Bodily! But I'll show him! (about to rush at Robin).

ROD. Stop! (To Rob.) What do you mean by carrying off this lady? Are you aware that once upon a time she was engaged to be married to me? I'm very angry--very angry indeed.

ROB. Now I hope this will be a lesson to you in future not to-- ROD. Hold your tongue, sir.

ROB. Yes, uncle.

ROD. Have you given him any encouragement?

HAN. (to Rob.). Have I given you any encouragement?

Frankly now, have I?

ROB. No. Frankly, you have not. Anything more scrupulously correct than your conduct, it would be impossible to desire.

ROD. You go away.

ROB. Yes, uncle. (Exit Robin.) ROD. This is a strange meeting after so many years!

HAN. Very. I thought you were dead.

ROD. I am. I died ten years ago.

HAN. And are you pretty comfortable?

ROD. Pretty well--that is--yes, pretty well.

HAN. You don't deserve to be, for I loved you all the while, dear; and it made me dreadfully unhappy to hear of all your goings-on, you bad, bad boy!

BALLAD--DAME HANNAH.

There grew a little flower 'Neath a great oak tree: When the tempest 'gan to lower Little heeded she: No need had she to cower, For she dreaded not its power-- She was happy in the bower Of her great oak tree!

Sing hey, Lackaday!

Let the tears fall free For the pretty little flower And the great oak tree!

BOTH. Sing hey, Lackaday! etc.

When she found that he was fickle, Was that great oak tree, She was in a pretty pickle, As she well might be-- But his gallantries were mickle, For Death followed with his sickle, And her tears began to trickle For her great oak tree!

Sing hey, Lackaday! etc.

BOTH. Sing hey, Lackaday! etc.

Said she, "He loved me never, Did that great oak tree, But I'm neither rich nor clever, And so why should he?

But though fate our fortunes sever, To be constant I'll endeavour, Aye, for ever and for ever, To my great oak tree!'

Sing hey, Lackaday! etc.

BOTH. Sing hey, Lackaday! etc.

(Falls weeping on Sir Roderic's bosom.)

(Enter Robin, excitedly, followed by all the characters and Chorus of Bridesmaids.)

ROB. Stop a bit--both of you.

ROD. This intrusion is unmannerly.

HAN. I'm surprised at you.

ROB. I can't stop to apologize--an idea has just occurred to me. A Baronet of Ruddigore can only die through refusing to commit his daily crime.

ROD. No doubt.

ROB. Therefore, to refuse to commit a daily crime is tantamount to suicide!

ROD. It would seem so.

ROB. But suicide is, itself, a crime--and so, by your own showing, you ought never to have died at all!

ROD. I see--I understand! Then I'm practically alive!

ROB. Undoubtedly! (Sir Roderic embraces Dame Hannah.) Rose, when you believed that I was a simple farmer, I believe you loved me?

ROSE. Madly, pa.s.sionately!

ROB. But when I became a bad baronet, you very properly loved Richard instead?

ROSE. Pa.s.sionately, madly!

ROB. But if I should turn out not to be a bad baronet after all, how would you love me then?

ROSE. Madly, pa.s.sionately!

ROB. As before?

ROSE. Why, of course.

ROB. My darling! (They embrace.) RICH. Here, I say, belay!

ROSE. Oh, sir, belay, if it's absolutely necessary!

ROB. Belay? Certainly not!

FINALE

ROB. Having been a wicked baronet a week Once again a modest livelihood I seek.

Agricultural employment Is to me a keen enjoyment, For I'm naturally diffident and meek!

ROSE. When a man has been a naughty baronet, And expresses deep repentance and regret, You should help him, if you're able, Like the mousie in the fable, That's the teaching of my Book of Etiquette.

CHORUS. That's the teaching in her Book of Etiquette.

RICH. If you ask me why I do not pipe my eye, Like an honest British sailor, I reply, That with Zorah for my missis, There'll be bread and cheese and kisses, Which is just the sort of ration I enjye!

CHORUS. Which is just the sort of ration you enjye!

DES. and MAR. Prompted by a keen desire to evoke All the blessed calm of matrimony's yoke, We shall toddle off tomorrow, From this scene of sin and sorrow, For to settle in the town of Basingstoke!

ALL. For happy the lily That's kissed by the bee; And, sipping tranquilly, Quite happy is he; And happy the filly That neighs in her pride; But happier than any, A pound to a penny, A lover is, when he Embraces his bride!

CURTAIN

THE SORCERER

Libretto by William S. Gilbert Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre, an Elderly Baronet

Alexis, of the Grenadier Guards--His Son