ACT III.

ACT III.Scene.—A drawing-room, shabbily furnished, inMr. Effingham’shouse.Cobbis discovered smoking a pipe on balcony withCaroline. TheEffinghamfamily is discovered grouped:—Mrs. Effinghamseated; oldEffinghamleaning on her chair, with his arm round her neck, andBulstrodestanding moodily behind. As curtain risesCarolineenters from balcony, and throws herself at her mother’s feet.Mrs. Eff.Where is your poet-lover, Caroline?Car.I left him basking on the balcony, in deep communion with his inner self.Mrs. Eff.Ah, what a priceless destiny is yours, my babe—to live a lifetime in the eternal sunlight of his poet brain!Car.It is; but you shall share it—father—mother—brother—all! We will all share it, alway! I would not rob you of one ray that emanates from that divine face, for all the wealth of earth!Mrs. Eff.My unselfish girl!Bul.How nobly he looks when, sickened with the world, he turns his eyes inward to gaze upon his hidden self!Mr. Eff.None but Apollo ever looked as he looks then.Car.Truly. Yet—shall I confess that when I saw him first my idiot heart sank deep within me, because, in the expression of his thoughts, I didnotrecognize Apollo’s stamp?Bul.Fie, Caroline! Would, you have a poet carry his muse pick-a-back, for daws to pick at? Fie, Caroline—oh, fie!Mrs. Eff.Some thoughts are too deep for utterance.Car.And some too precious. Why should he scatter such gems broadcast? My poet-warrior thinks them to himself.Bul.He does. It is his weird and warlike way.Car.He comes. (Rises.) His fancy-flight has ended for the nonce. My soldier-minstrel has returned to earth!Tomenters from balcony.Carolinegoes to meet him, and brings him forward lovingly. His appearance is somewhat altered. He parts his hair in the centre, and allows it to grow long. He wears a very low lie-down collar in order to look Byronic.Carolinethrows herself at his feet, andMr.andMrs. Effinghamcross and group themselves about him.Mrs. Effinghamkneels,Bulstrodestanding moodily behind his mother.Mr. Eff.Arthur, ennoble us. Raise us one step towards the Empyrean. Give us a Great Thought!Bul.From the vast treasures of your poet brain, we beg some spare small change.Tom.Well, I really don’t know; I haven’t anything just now.Car.We are the bees, and you the flower. We beg some honey for our little hives.Tom(with a desperate effort to be brilliant). Talking of bees (all take out note-books and write down what follows)—talking of bees, have you ever remarked how the busy little insect avails herself of the sunshine to gather her sweet harvest from—from every opening flower?Mr. Eff.(writing). We have, we have. How true to fact!Bul.(writing). You said “her sweet harvest,” I think?Tom.Her sweet harvest.Bul.(writing). Her sweet harvest. (All shake their heads and sigh.)Tom.Her honey, you know.Bul.Thank you. (Sighs. All finish writing and put up their note-books.)Mrs. Eff.You are a close student of nature, sir.Tom.Yes, I do a good deal in that way.Mrs. Eff.How simple are his words, and yet what priceless pearls of thought lie encased beneath their outer crust!Tom.Yes, I always wrap them in an outer crust, to keep them from the cold. (All take out note-books and write this down.)Car.(writing).“He wraps them in an outer crustTo keep them from the cold!”And once I sneered at these grand utterances, just as we continually sneer at shapeless clods upon the road, which, on inspection, turn out to be jewelled bracelets of exceeding price!Tom.Nothing more common. It’s the old story. The superficial mind (all take out books and write)—the superficial mind looks for cream upon the surface of the milk; but the profound philosopher dives down deep below. (Aside.) Much more of this and my mind will give way!Mrs. Eff.You are a deep thinker, sir. I can fancy Shakespeare to have been such another.Car.Shakespeare? Shakespeare never said anything like that! How—how do you do it?Tom.I don’t know. It comes. I shut my eyes and it comes. (All shut their eyes and try.)Car.I cannot do it. Ah me! I shall never learn to talk like that.[Mrs. Effinghamrises, goes toBulstrode, and leans upon his shoulder.Mrs. Eff.Bulstrode, had you had communion with the Major-General in earlier life, he might have helped to shape your destiny to some nobler end.[Mr. Effinghamcrosses behind.CarolineandCobbremain in conversation.Bul.No, it might not be. I am fated. Destiny has declared against me. Fettered to the desk of an obscure attorney—forced to imprison my soaring soul within the left-off garments of a father whose figure has but little in common with my own, who can wonder that my life is one protracted misfit?Mr. Eff.(rising). My boy, sneer not at those clothes. They have been worn for many, many years by a very old, but very upright man. Be proud of them. No sordid thought has ever lurked behind that waistcoat. That hat has never yet been doffed to vicious wealth. Those shoes have never yet walked into the parlours of the sinful.Mrs. Eff.(embracing him). I am sure of that, Adolphus,—I am very, very sure of that.Bul.It may be as you say. Idorespect these clothes, but not even a father’s eloquence can gloze over the damning fact that they are second-hand![Turns up and exit on to balcony, asMr.andMrs. Effinghamexeunt lovingly.Car.A blessing on him. Is he not benevolent?Tom.Yes, he looks so. Why do benevolent people have such long hair? Do they say to themselves, “I am a benevolent person, so I will let my hair grow,” or do they let it grow because they are too benevolent to cut it off?Car.There are thousands of such questions that appear at every turn to make us marvel at Nature’s strange decrees. Let us not pry into these dark secrets. Let us rather enquire whether you have any chance of getting anything to do? (Rises.)Tom.No; there’s no opening for major-generals just now.Car.And yet how nobly you would lead your troops into action, caracolling at their head on a proud Arabian barb, and rousing them to very frenzy by shouting forth martial songs of your own composition! Oh! it would madden them!Tom.Yes, I think it would! But at present I’ve only my half-pay—a pound a week—and we can’t marry on that.Car.Why not? It is ten shillings a week each. I am content if you are. Say, Arthur, shall we be made one?Tom.My dear Caroline, it’s nonsense to talk about being made one. (She takes out her note-book.) It’s my experience that when poor people marry, they’re made half a dozen, at least, in no time!Car.Arthur! (Shuts up book.) Well, I must wait and hope. Oh for a war! (Cobbmuch alarmed.) A vast, vast, vast war! Oh for the clash of steel-clad foemen! Oh for the deadly cannonade! And loud above the din of battle, I bear my Arthur’s voice, as, like a doughty Paladin of old, he cleaves his path where’er the fight is thickest! Oh! I think I see him doing it![ExitCaroline.Tom.Yes. I think I see myself doing it! Poor, dear girl, it’s a shame to deceive her, but what can I do in the face of this confounded advertisement, which still appears in all the papers every day! (Reads.) “£50 reward will be paid to any one who will give any information concerning the whereabouts of Thomas Cobb, M.R.C.S. Apply to Docket and Tape, 27, Paragon, Somers Town!” For just six mouths this blighting paragraph has appeared in every paper in London. Every one is talking about it; a Christmas annual has been published, “How we found Tom Cobb,” and a farce, called “Tom Cobb found at last,” is playing at a principal theatre!EnterWhipple.Tom.Whipple, you here?Whi.Yes, how de do? I’m quite well. So’s Matilda.Tom.That name!Whi.She’s downstairs, with Miss Effingham.Tom.Downstairs! And does she—don’t think I ask from an improper motive—does she ever talk about me? (Sits.)Whi.Never mentions you by any chance. But she often drops a tear to the memory of poor dead-and-gone Tom Cobb.Tom.Oh! she doesthat, does she? That’s rather nasty for you, isn’t it?Whi.Not a bit. (Sits.) It does her credit, and I honour herfor it. The poor fellow’s dead, and there’s an end to him. I loved him as a brother! (Wiping his eye.) He did my botany papers for me at the College. But it’s no use repining. No power on earth can bring him to life again, now. How she loved that man!Tom(half sobbing). Oh, Matilda! Be good to her, Whipple.Whi.I will, General; trust me.Tom.Is she—is she as fond of the theatre as ever!Whi.Quite. We go every night.Tom.She used to call it the “theayter.”Whi.(much moved). She does still!Tom.Bless her for it. And does she still like oysters after the play?Whi.Always. She bargains for ’em—stout and oysters.Tom.She used to call them “histers.”Whi.She does still.Tom.Oh, thank you for this news of her. Oh, Whipple, make that woman happy!Whi.Trust me—I will, for poor dear Tom Cobb’s sake. How she loved that man! (Wipes his eye.) But this is not business. The Colonel, who is downstairs with Mr. Effingham, begged me to give you this—your weekly screw. Allow me, Major-General. (Gives him a sovereign.)Tom.Thank you. The Colonel is always regular and punctual with my little pension.Whi.The Colonel is extremely punctilious about money matters. Oh, I quite forgot—he further desires me to say that from this moment he proposes to discontinue your weekly payment.Tom(aghast). What!Whi.From this moment your little pension dries up.Tom.Do you mean to tell me that he intends deliberately to break his plighted word?Whi.That is precisely what I intended to convey.Tom.And cut off my only source of sustenance?Whi.Absolutely.Tom.But hang it, man, don’t he know that his liberty and wealth are at my mercy?Whi.Yes, he knows that; but he’s prepared to risk it. You see, General, Messrs. Docket and Tape are looking out for Tom Cobb. Tom Cobb’s wanted. I don’t know what he’s done, but people talk about a forged will. He’s advertised for every day. You may have noticed it.Tom.Yes, I’ve remarked it.Whi.Well, if Tom Cobb is alive this advertisement is quite enough to keep him quiet. The Colonel, having this fact strongly before his eyes, considers that as he has no further interest in Major-General Fitzpatrick’s existence, he does not see why he should be called upon to contribute to his support.Tom.But it’s ruin! Hang it—it’s starvation! Whipple, you used to be a nice man once—ask him to see me—ask him to speak to me for five minutes! By your old niceness, I implore you!Whi.I can’t resist that appeal! I’ll ask him, but I’m not sanguine. You see, he’s been in the constant practice of breaking his promise for the last sixty-five years, and it’s degenerated into a habit.[ExitWhipple.Tom.And I did that man’s—— (Furious.) But I’ll be even with them all. I don’t care now. I’ve nothing to lose, and I’m a desperate man. My mind’s made up. I’ll write to Docket and Tape, and tell the whole truth! (Sits down to write.) Now, Colonel O’Fipp, tremble, and you, Whipple, tremble, and Matilda. (Throws down pen.) I would spare Matilda! But no, lethertremble too! (Finishes letter; about to ring bell.) Now, now, I shall soon know the worst!EnterBulstrodefrom balcony.Bul.The Major-General seems moody. On what is he thinking? On the sacking of towns, perchance?Tom.Bulstrode, you’re a lawyer’s clerk, aren’t you?Bul.Cursed be my lot, I am!Tom.Do you happen to know Docket and Tape?Bul.I do!Tom.Who are they?Bul.My loathed employers!Tom.What! Why, then, you know all about this Tom Cobb whom they are advertising for, and whose name is on every tongue?Bul.I should rather say I did.Tom(excited). A—what is he wanted for?Bul.Much.Tom.Yes, but what—what?Bul.It is a weird tale. Wild horses shouldn’t drag it from me.Tom.But, hang it, you can trustme.Bul.(takes his hand). General, I think I can—but I’m sure I won’t.Tom.But why do you object?Bul.Major-General Fitzpatrick, had you the password of some leaguered town, and an enemy, armed to the teeth, demanded that word at the pistol’s mouth, what would you do?Tom.Tell him at once without a moment’s hesitation.Bul.Then am I made of doughtier stuff. Sir, I hate my employers, I loathe their unholy practices, but—I respect their secrets. Good day; I go to them.[ExitBulstrode.Tom.So it seems I’ve had my head in the lion’s mouth for the last three months without knowing it! Well, well—there is a grim justice in the fact that my punishment will be brought about through the employers of the son of the husband of the mother of the young woman to whom I was to have been married.EnterColonel O’Fipp.O’Fi.Now, sorr, ye’ve expressed a wish for an audience. On consideration I have resolved to grant it.Tom.You’re very good, Colonel.O’Fi.You may say that, sorr, for I have discovered that ye’re an imposthor. An out and out imposthor, sorr! Ye’re no more a gineral officer than I’m a gineral postman.Tom.But I never said I was.Yousaid I was a major-general; and you ought to know. It isn’t for me to set up my opinion on a military matter against a lieutenant-colonel’s.O’Fi.Sorr, I’m a soft-hearted, simple ould fool, and at first your military bearing deceived me practised oi, and I was moved to pity by yer plausible tale and yer broken boots. I was touched by yer sorrows, and I was disposed to try and heal them.Tom.The boots?O’Fi.The sorrows. Now, sorr, a lie has ever been me scorrn and aversion, and an imposture me deepest abhorrence.Tom.Colonel, I respect your sentiments, for they are my own. You discontinue my allowance, and you are quite right. Your hand.O’Fi.(rather surprised). Sorr, ye spake like a gintleman. Ye’re not a gintleman, but ye spake like one. (Sees note inTom’shand.) What’s that?Tom.It’s a letter to Docket and Tape, in which I confess myself to be the Tom Cobb they’re advertising for,—and offering to give them all the information in my power.O’Fi.But ye’re niver goin’ to send that?Tom.I’m going to send it directly.O’Fi.Ye’re doin’ it to frighten me.Tom.Frighten a colonel? I wouldn’t presume to attempt it!O’Fi.But—— Oh! ye’ll niver sind it—it would ruin ye.Tom.It’ll ruin us all. (Rings.)O’Fi.No, no—they can’t touch me, mind that! I’m a simple ould man; it’s well known, and aisy done. Don’t send that, Tom Cobb, and I’ll pay ye the pound a week; damme, I’ll double it—treble it! I’m a simple ould soldier, and I’m fond of ye, Tom, and I’ll not let ye ruin yeself for me!Tom.Sir, a lie has ever been my scorn and aversion, and an imposture my deepest abhorrence.EnterServant.Take this to the address at once.[ExitServant.O’Fi.Effingham—Mrs. Effingham—Matilda—Bulstrode—Whipple—all of ye—come here! (ToTom.) Ye’ve determined to inform on me grey hairs—I’ll be first in the field anyhow—mind that now.Enter all the characters from different doors;BulstrodeandCarolineholding backTom,WhippleandMatildaholding backO’Fipp.Mrs. Eff.What—what is the clamour?Mat.Papa, dear, what’s he bin doin’ to ye?O’Fi.This man—who has passed himself off as a major-general—he’s a swindler—an imposthor—he’s deceived us all—he’s practised on our inexperience.Car.Arthur—Arthur—speak—what, oh, what is this?Mat.Don’t call him Arthur—his name’s Tom—Tom.Car.Tomtom? Impossible. Tell them, Arthur, that it is false. Tell them that you are not—you cannot be Tomtom!O’Fi.His name’s Tom Cobb. Tom Cobb, Mr. Bulstrode—and he’s a swindlin’ apothecary—the man you’ve been advertising for these six months.[Carolinefaints inMr.andMrs. Effingham’sarms.Bul.Amazement!Mr. Eff.Monster—once more behold your work!Mrs. Eff.Viper! Creeping, crawling, unadulterated viper!Tom.I am Tom Cobb, M.R.C.S.; there’s my card—“Tom Cobb, 6.” (Producing handkerchief.) Lead me away.Bul.This is a day of great events. We have sought you everywhere for six months.Tom.I know you have. Your advertisement has been the nightmare of my life.Bul.Amazement! There was a nameless old man, who bore so strong a resemblance to you, that scoffers called him by your name. He died in squalor, barely six months since.Tom.All is over—lead me away!Bul.He was supposed to have much money in the house, though not a penny could be found. But besides this untold gold, there was standing in his name a sum amounting to £12,000!Tom.I know nothing about the £12,000! But I am amenable to the law. Take me to my dungeon!Bul.No dungeon yawns for you, oh, happy sir. Wealth—wealth waits you open-armed!All.What!Bul.You had a father once—that father yet another of his own, the aged man so strangely like yourself. That aged person had a son—that son another son—that son your father, and that other son yourself!Tom.Then—I am the old man’s grandson!Bul.That is the same idea in vulgar phrase. You are his grandson and his heir-at-law.Car.(reviving). My poet-surgeon, and my old, old love! (Embracing him.)Mrs. Eff.My son!Bul.My brother!Tom.Well, Colonel, I must trouble you to hand over the property. If it’s inconvenient——O’Fi.It is. (From behind his handkerchief.)Tom.Well, I’m sorry, that’s all.O’Fi.Maybe ye’re sorry, sorr; but ye’re not so sorry as I am, I’ll go bail!Mat.Papa dear, don’t fret. Sure, I’m a poor penniless girl now; but ain’t I goin’ to marry a handsome and ginerous young gintleman of good fortune? (Leaning onTom’sshoulder.) And won’t he be a son to ye, and give ye a home for the rest of yer days?[Whippleappears to remonstrate with her.Carolineexpresses indignation and clings to her mother.Tom.But I protest!O’Fi.Tom Cobb, ye spake like a gintleman. Ye’re not a gintleman, but ye spake like one. I accept yer offer with pride and gratitude, my son! (Seizes his hand.)Tom.Get out! (Shakes him off.) Whipple, take this younglady. Matilda, go with the bills! (Hands her toWhipple, who takes her up, expostulating with her.) Caroline, you loved me as a penniless, but poetical major-general; can you still love me as a wealthy, but unromantic apothecary?Car.I can! I can love you as a wealthy anything!Mrs. Eff.We all can!Bul.All![They group about him,Mr.andMrs. Effinghamon each side,Bulstrodebehind, andCarolineat his feet; theColonel,Whipple, andMatildaseated at table, with their heads buried in their arms.

Scene.—A drawing-room, shabbily furnished, inMr. Effingham’shouse.Cobbis discovered smoking a pipe on balcony withCaroline. TheEffinghamfamily is discovered grouped:—Mrs. Effinghamseated; oldEffinghamleaning on her chair, with his arm round her neck, andBulstrodestanding moodily behind. As curtain risesCarolineenters from balcony, and throws herself at her mother’s feet.

Mrs. Eff.Where is your poet-lover, Caroline?

Car.I left him basking on the balcony, in deep communion with his inner self.

Mrs. Eff.Ah, what a priceless destiny is yours, my babe—to live a lifetime in the eternal sunlight of his poet brain!

Car.It is; but you shall share it—father—mother—brother—all! We will all share it, alway! I would not rob you of one ray that emanates from that divine face, for all the wealth of earth!

Mrs. Eff.My unselfish girl!

Bul.How nobly he looks when, sickened with the world, he turns his eyes inward to gaze upon his hidden self!

Mr. Eff.None but Apollo ever looked as he looks then.

Car.Truly. Yet—shall I confess that when I saw him first my idiot heart sank deep within me, because, in the expression of his thoughts, I didnotrecognize Apollo’s stamp?

Bul.Fie, Caroline! Would, you have a poet carry his muse pick-a-back, for daws to pick at? Fie, Caroline—oh, fie!

Mrs. Eff.Some thoughts are too deep for utterance.

Car.And some too precious. Why should he scatter such gems broadcast? My poet-warrior thinks them to himself.

Bul.He does. It is his weird and warlike way.

Car.He comes. (Rises.) His fancy-flight has ended for the nonce. My soldier-minstrel has returned to earth!

Tomenters from balcony.Carolinegoes to meet him, and brings him forward lovingly. His appearance is somewhat altered. He parts his hair in the centre, and allows it to grow long. He wears a very low lie-down collar in order to look Byronic.Carolinethrows herself at his feet, andMr.andMrs. Effinghamcross and group themselves about him.Mrs. Effinghamkneels,Bulstrodestanding moodily behind his mother.

Mr. Eff.Arthur, ennoble us. Raise us one step towards the Empyrean. Give us a Great Thought!

Bul.From the vast treasures of your poet brain, we beg some spare small change.

Tom.Well, I really don’t know; I haven’t anything just now.

Car.We are the bees, and you the flower. We beg some honey for our little hives.

Tom(with a desperate effort to be brilliant). Talking of bees (all take out note-books and write down what follows)—talking of bees, have you ever remarked how the busy little insect avails herself of the sunshine to gather her sweet harvest from—from every opening flower?

Mr. Eff.(writing). We have, we have. How true to fact!

Bul.(writing). You said “her sweet harvest,” I think?

Tom.Her sweet harvest.

Bul.(writing). Her sweet harvest. (All shake their heads and sigh.)

Tom.Her honey, you know.

Bul.Thank you. (Sighs. All finish writing and put up their note-books.)

Mrs. Eff.You are a close student of nature, sir.

Tom.Yes, I do a good deal in that way.

Mrs. Eff.How simple are his words, and yet what priceless pearls of thought lie encased beneath their outer crust!

Tom.Yes, I always wrap them in an outer crust, to keep them from the cold. (All take out note-books and write this down.)

Car.(writing).

“He wraps them in an outer crustTo keep them from the cold!”

“He wraps them in an outer crust

To keep them from the cold!”

And once I sneered at these grand utterances, just as we continually sneer at shapeless clods upon the road, which, on inspection, turn out to be jewelled bracelets of exceeding price!

Tom.Nothing more common. It’s the old story. The superficial mind (all take out books and write)—the superficial mind looks for cream upon the surface of the milk; but the profound philosopher dives down deep below. (Aside.) Much more of this and my mind will give way!

Mrs. Eff.You are a deep thinker, sir. I can fancy Shakespeare to have been such another.

Car.Shakespeare? Shakespeare never said anything like that! How—how do you do it?

Tom.I don’t know. It comes. I shut my eyes and it comes. (All shut their eyes and try.)

Car.I cannot do it. Ah me! I shall never learn to talk like that.

[Mrs. Effinghamrises, goes toBulstrode, and leans upon his shoulder.

Mrs. Eff.Bulstrode, had you had communion with the Major-General in earlier life, he might have helped to shape your destiny to some nobler end.

[Mr. Effinghamcrosses behind.CarolineandCobbremain in conversation.

Bul.No, it might not be. I am fated. Destiny has declared against me. Fettered to the desk of an obscure attorney—forced to imprison my soaring soul within the left-off garments of a father whose figure has but little in common with my own, who can wonder that my life is one protracted misfit?

Mr. Eff.(rising). My boy, sneer not at those clothes. They have been worn for many, many years by a very old, but very upright man. Be proud of them. No sordid thought has ever lurked behind that waistcoat. That hat has never yet been doffed to vicious wealth. Those shoes have never yet walked into the parlours of the sinful.

Mrs. Eff.(embracing him). I am sure of that, Adolphus,—I am very, very sure of that.

Bul.It may be as you say. Idorespect these clothes, but not even a father’s eloquence can gloze over the damning fact that they are second-hand!

[Turns up and exit on to balcony, asMr.andMrs. Effinghamexeunt lovingly.

Car.A blessing on him. Is he not benevolent?

Tom.Yes, he looks so. Why do benevolent people have such long hair? Do they say to themselves, “I am a benevolent person, so I will let my hair grow,” or do they let it grow because they are too benevolent to cut it off?

Car.There are thousands of such questions that appear at every turn to make us marvel at Nature’s strange decrees. Let us not pry into these dark secrets. Let us rather enquire whether you have any chance of getting anything to do? (Rises.)

Tom.No; there’s no opening for major-generals just now.

Car.And yet how nobly you would lead your troops into action, caracolling at their head on a proud Arabian barb, and rousing them to very frenzy by shouting forth martial songs of your own composition! Oh! it would madden them!

Tom.Yes, I think it would! But at present I’ve only my half-pay—a pound a week—and we can’t marry on that.

Car.Why not? It is ten shillings a week each. I am content if you are. Say, Arthur, shall we be made one?

Tom.My dear Caroline, it’s nonsense to talk about being made one. (She takes out her note-book.) It’s my experience that when poor people marry, they’re made half a dozen, at least, in no time!

Car.Arthur! (Shuts up book.) Well, I must wait and hope. Oh for a war! (Cobbmuch alarmed.) A vast, vast, vast war! Oh for the clash of steel-clad foemen! Oh for the deadly cannonade! And loud above the din of battle, I bear my Arthur’s voice, as, like a doughty Paladin of old, he cleaves his path where’er the fight is thickest! Oh! I think I see him doing it!

[ExitCaroline.

Tom.Yes. I think I see myself doing it! Poor, dear girl, it’s a shame to deceive her, but what can I do in the face of this confounded advertisement, which still appears in all the papers every day! (Reads.) “£50 reward will be paid to any one who will give any information concerning the whereabouts of Thomas Cobb, M.R.C.S. Apply to Docket and Tape, 27, Paragon, Somers Town!” For just six mouths this blighting paragraph has appeared in every paper in London. Every one is talking about it; a Christmas annual has been published, “How we found Tom Cobb,” and a farce, called “Tom Cobb found at last,” is playing at a principal theatre!

EnterWhipple.

Tom.Whipple, you here?

Whi.Yes, how de do? I’m quite well. So’s Matilda.

Tom.That name!

Whi.She’s downstairs, with Miss Effingham.

Tom.Downstairs! And does she—don’t think I ask from an improper motive—does she ever talk about me? (Sits.)

Whi.Never mentions you by any chance. But she often drops a tear to the memory of poor dead-and-gone Tom Cobb.

Tom.Oh! she doesthat, does she? That’s rather nasty for you, isn’t it?

Whi.Not a bit. (Sits.) It does her credit, and I honour herfor it. The poor fellow’s dead, and there’s an end to him. I loved him as a brother! (Wiping his eye.) He did my botany papers for me at the College. But it’s no use repining. No power on earth can bring him to life again, now. How she loved that man!

Tom(half sobbing). Oh, Matilda! Be good to her, Whipple.

Whi.I will, General; trust me.

Tom.Is she—is she as fond of the theatre as ever!

Whi.Quite. We go every night.

Tom.She used to call it the “theayter.”

Whi.(much moved). She does still!

Tom.Bless her for it. And does she still like oysters after the play?

Whi.Always. She bargains for ’em—stout and oysters.

Tom.She used to call them “histers.”

Whi.She does still.

Tom.Oh, thank you for this news of her. Oh, Whipple, make that woman happy!

Whi.Trust me—I will, for poor dear Tom Cobb’s sake. How she loved that man! (Wipes his eye.) But this is not business. The Colonel, who is downstairs with Mr. Effingham, begged me to give you this—your weekly screw. Allow me, Major-General. (Gives him a sovereign.)

Tom.Thank you. The Colonel is always regular and punctual with my little pension.

Whi.The Colonel is extremely punctilious about money matters. Oh, I quite forgot—he further desires me to say that from this moment he proposes to discontinue your weekly payment.

Tom(aghast). What!

Whi.From this moment your little pension dries up.

Tom.Do you mean to tell me that he intends deliberately to break his plighted word?

Whi.That is precisely what I intended to convey.

Tom.And cut off my only source of sustenance?

Whi.Absolutely.

Tom.But hang it, man, don’t he know that his liberty and wealth are at my mercy?

Whi.Yes, he knows that; but he’s prepared to risk it. You see, General, Messrs. Docket and Tape are looking out for Tom Cobb. Tom Cobb’s wanted. I don’t know what he’s done, but people talk about a forged will. He’s advertised for every day. You may have noticed it.

Tom.Yes, I’ve remarked it.

Whi.Well, if Tom Cobb is alive this advertisement is quite enough to keep him quiet. The Colonel, having this fact strongly before his eyes, considers that as he has no further interest in Major-General Fitzpatrick’s existence, he does not see why he should be called upon to contribute to his support.

Tom.But it’s ruin! Hang it—it’s starvation! Whipple, you used to be a nice man once—ask him to see me—ask him to speak to me for five minutes! By your old niceness, I implore you!

Whi.I can’t resist that appeal! I’ll ask him, but I’m not sanguine. You see, he’s been in the constant practice of breaking his promise for the last sixty-five years, and it’s degenerated into a habit.

[ExitWhipple.

Tom.And I did that man’s—— (Furious.) But I’ll be even with them all. I don’t care now. I’ve nothing to lose, and I’m a desperate man. My mind’s made up. I’ll write to Docket and Tape, and tell the whole truth! (Sits down to write.) Now, Colonel O’Fipp, tremble, and you, Whipple, tremble, and Matilda. (Throws down pen.) I would spare Matilda! But no, lethertremble too! (Finishes letter; about to ring bell.) Now, now, I shall soon know the worst!

EnterBulstrodefrom balcony.

Bul.The Major-General seems moody. On what is he thinking? On the sacking of towns, perchance?

Tom.Bulstrode, you’re a lawyer’s clerk, aren’t you?

Bul.Cursed be my lot, I am!

Tom.Do you happen to know Docket and Tape?

Bul.I do!

Tom.Who are they?

Bul.My loathed employers!

Tom.What! Why, then, you know all about this Tom Cobb whom they are advertising for, and whose name is on every tongue?

Bul.I should rather say I did.

Tom(excited). A—what is he wanted for?

Bul.Much.

Tom.Yes, but what—what?

Bul.It is a weird tale. Wild horses shouldn’t drag it from me.

Tom.But, hang it, you can trustme.

Bul.(takes his hand). General, I think I can—but I’m sure I won’t.

Tom.But why do you object?

Bul.Major-General Fitzpatrick, had you the password of some leaguered town, and an enemy, armed to the teeth, demanded that word at the pistol’s mouth, what would you do?

Tom.Tell him at once without a moment’s hesitation.

Bul.Then am I made of doughtier stuff. Sir, I hate my employers, I loathe their unholy practices, but—I respect their secrets. Good day; I go to them.

[ExitBulstrode.

Tom.So it seems I’ve had my head in the lion’s mouth for the last three months without knowing it! Well, well—there is a grim justice in the fact that my punishment will be brought about through the employers of the son of the husband of the mother of the young woman to whom I was to have been married.

EnterColonel O’Fipp.

O’Fi.Now, sorr, ye’ve expressed a wish for an audience. On consideration I have resolved to grant it.

Tom.You’re very good, Colonel.

O’Fi.You may say that, sorr, for I have discovered that ye’re an imposthor. An out and out imposthor, sorr! Ye’re no more a gineral officer than I’m a gineral postman.

Tom.But I never said I was.Yousaid I was a major-general; and you ought to know. It isn’t for me to set up my opinion on a military matter against a lieutenant-colonel’s.

O’Fi.Sorr, I’m a soft-hearted, simple ould fool, and at first your military bearing deceived me practised oi, and I was moved to pity by yer plausible tale and yer broken boots. I was touched by yer sorrows, and I was disposed to try and heal them.

Tom.The boots?

O’Fi.The sorrows. Now, sorr, a lie has ever been me scorrn and aversion, and an imposture me deepest abhorrence.

Tom.Colonel, I respect your sentiments, for they are my own. You discontinue my allowance, and you are quite right. Your hand.

O’Fi.(rather surprised). Sorr, ye spake like a gintleman. Ye’re not a gintleman, but ye spake like one. (Sees note inTom’shand.) What’s that?

Tom.It’s a letter to Docket and Tape, in which I confess myself to be the Tom Cobb they’re advertising for,—and offering to give them all the information in my power.

O’Fi.But ye’re niver goin’ to send that?

Tom.I’m going to send it directly.

O’Fi.Ye’re doin’ it to frighten me.

Tom.Frighten a colonel? I wouldn’t presume to attempt it!

O’Fi.But—— Oh! ye’ll niver sind it—it would ruin ye.

Tom.It’ll ruin us all. (Rings.)

O’Fi.No, no—they can’t touch me, mind that! I’m a simple ould man; it’s well known, and aisy done. Don’t send that, Tom Cobb, and I’ll pay ye the pound a week; damme, I’ll double it—treble it! I’m a simple ould soldier, and I’m fond of ye, Tom, and I’ll not let ye ruin yeself for me!

Tom.Sir, a lie has ever been my scorn and aversion, and an imposture my deepest abhorrence.

EnterServant.

Take this to the address at once.

[ExitServant.

O’Fi.Effingham—Mrs. Effingham—Matilda—Bulstrode—Whipple—all of ye—come here! (ToTom.) Ye’ve determined to inform on me grey hairs—I’ll be first in the field anyhow—mind that now.

Enter all the characters from different doors;BulstrodeandCarolineholding backTom,WhippleandMatildaholding backO’Fipp.

Mrs. Eff.What—what is the clamour?

Mat.Papa, dear, what’s he bin doin’ to ye?

O’Fi.This man—who has passed himself off as a major-general—he’s a swindler—an imposthor—he’s deceived us all—he’s practised on our inexperience.

Car.Arthur—Arthur—speak—what, oh, what is this?

Mat.Don’t call him Arthur—his name’s Tom—Tom.

Car.Tomtom? Impossible. Tell them, Arthur, that it is false. Tell them that you are not—you cannot be Tomtom!

O’Fi.His name’s Tom Cobb. Tom Cobb, Mr. Bulstrode—and he’s a swindlin’ apothecary—the man you’ve been advertising for these six months.

[Carolinefaints inMr.andMrs. Effingham’sarms.

Bul.Amazement!

Mr. Eff.Monster—once more behold your work!

Mrs. Eff.Viper! Creeping, crawling, unadulterated viper!

Tom.I am Tom Cobb, M.R.C.S.; there’s my card—“Tom Cobb, 6.” (Producing handkerchief.) Lead me away.

Bul.This is a day of great events. We have sought you everywhere for six months.

Tom.I know you have. Your advertisement has been the nightmare of my life.

Bul.Amazement! There was a nameless old man, who bore so strong a resemblance to you, that scoffers called him by your name. He died in squalor, barely six months since.

Tom.All is over—lead me away!

Bul.He was supposed to have much money in the house, though not a penny could be found. But besides this untold gold, there was standing in his name a sum amounting to £12,000!

Tom.I know nothing about the £12,000! But I am amenable to the law. Take me to my dungeon!

Bul.No dungeon yawns for you, oh, happy sir. Wealth—wealth waits you open-armed!

All.What!

Bul.You had a father once—that father yet another of his own, the aged man so strangely like yourself. That aged person had a son—that son another son—that son your father, and that other son yourself!

Tom.Then—I am the old man’s grandson!

Bul.That is the same idea in vulgar phrase. You are his grandson and his heir-at-law.

Car.(reviving). My poet-surgeon, and my old, old love! (Embracing him.)

Mrs. Eff.My son!

Bul.My brother!

Tom.Well, Colonel, I must trouble you to hand over the property. If it’s inconvenient——

O’Fi.It is. (From behind his handkerchief.)

Tom.Well, I’m sorry, that’s all.

O’Fi.Maybe ye’re sorry, sorr; but ye’re not so sorry as I am, I’ll go bail!

Mat.Papa dear, don’t fret. Sure, I’m a poor penniless girl now; but ain’t I goin’ to marry a handsome and ginerous young gintleman of good fortune? (Leaning onTom’sshoulder.) And won’t he be a son to ye, and give ye a home for the rest of yer days?

[Whippleappears to remonstrate with her.Carolineexpresses indignation and clings to her mother.

Tom.But I protest!

O’Fi.Tom Cobb, ye spake like a gintleman. Ye’re not a gintleman, but ye spake like one. I accept yer offer with pride and gratitude, my son! (Seizes his hand.)

Tom.Get out! (Shakes him off.) Whipple, take this younglady. Matilda, go with the bills! (Hands her toWhipple, who takes her up, expostulating with her.) Caroline, you loved me as a penniless, but poetical major-general; can you still love me as a wealthy, but unromantic apothecary?

Car.I can! I can love you as a wealthy anything!

Mrs. Eff.We all can!

Bul.All!

[They group about him,Mr.andMrs. Effinghamon each side,Bulstrodebehind, andCarolineat his feet; theColonel,Whipple, andMatildaseated at table, with their heads buried in their arms.

THE SORCERER.AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL MODERN COMIC OPERA,IN TWO ACTS.First produced at the Opera Comique Theatre, byMr. R. D’Oyly Carte, on November 17, 1877.DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,an elderly Baronet.Alexis,of the Grenadier Guards—his Son.Dr. Daly,Vicar of Ploverleigh.John Wellington Wells,of J. W. Wells & Co., Family Sorcerers.Notary.Lady Sangazure,a Lady of ancient lineage.Aline,her Daughter—betrothed toAlexis.Mrs. Partlet,a Pew-Opener.Constance,her Daughter.Chorus of Peasantry.

AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL MODERN COMIC OPERA,IN TWO ACTS.

First produced at the Opera Comique Theatre, byMr. R. D’Oyly Carte, on November 17, 1877.

Chorus of Peasantry.

ACT I.GROUNDS OF SIR MARMADUKE’S MANSION.[Half an hour is supposed to elapse between Acts I. and II.]ACT II.MARKET-PLACE OF PLOVERLEIGH.Time—The Present Day.

ACT I.

GROUNDS OF SIR MARMADUKE’S MANSION.

[Half an hour is supposed to elapse between Acts I. and II.]

ACT II.

MARKET-PLACE OF PLOVERLEIGH.

Time—The Present Day.

THE SORCERER.ACT I.Scene.—Garden of Sir Marmaduke’s Elizabethan mansion. The end of a large marquee, open, and showing portion of table covered with white cloth, on which are joints of meat, teapots, cups, bread and butter, jam, etc. To the back a raised terrace with steps. A park in the background, with spire of church seen above the trees.Chorus of Peasantry.Ring forth, ye bells,With clarion sound—Forget your knells,For joys abound.Forget your notesOf mournful lay,And from your throatsPour joy to-day.For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis PointdextreIs betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her,At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!Ring forth, ye bells, etc.[At the end of chorus, exeunt theMeninto house.EnterMrs. Partlet, meetingConstance, her daughter.Recitative.Mrs. P.Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?The village rings with seasonable joy,Because the young and amiable Alexis,Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,Is plighted to Aline, the only daughterOf Annabella, Lady Sangazure.You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!Con.Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexionFrom red to white should change in quick succession—And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!If my poor limbs shall tremble with emotion,Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne’er be known!Mrs. P.My child, be candid; think not to deceiveThe eagle-eyed pew-opener—you love!Con.(aside).How guessed she that, my heart’s most cherished secret?(Aloud.) Idolove, fondly—madly—hopelessly!Aria.—Constance.When he is here,I sigh with pleasure;When he is gone,I sigh with grief.My hopeless fearNo soul can measure;His love aloneCan give my aching heart relief!When he is cold,I weep for sorrow;When he is kind,I weep for joy.My grief untoldKnows no to-morrow.My woe can findNo hope, no solace, no alloy![At the end of the song,Mrs. Partletsilently motions toWomento leave them together. ExeuntChorus.Mrs. P.Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear—I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!Who is the object of your young affections?Con.Hush, mother! He is here!EnterDr. Daly. He is pensive, and does not see them. He sits on stool.Mrs. P.(amazed).Our reverend vicar!Con.Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!Mrs. P.My child, be comforted. To such an unionI shall not offer any opposition.Take him—he’s yours! May you and he be happy!Con.But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!Mrs. P.That’s true, indeed!Con.He might object!Mrs. P.He might.But come; take heart. I’ll probe him on the subject.Be comforted; leave this affair to me.Recitative—Dr. Daly.The air is charged with amatory numbers—Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers’ lays.Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbersThe aching memory of the old, old days?Ballad.Time was when Love and I were well acquainted.Time was when we walked ever hand in hand,A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted—None better loved than I in all the land!Time was when maidens of the noblest station,Forsaking even military men,Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration.Ah me! I was a fair young curate then!Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;And when I coughed all thought the end was near.I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o’er me;For I was loved beyond all other men.Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.Ah me! I was a pale young curate then![At the conclusion of the ballad,Mrs. Partletcomes forward withConstance.Mrs. P.Good day, reverend sir.Dr. D.Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little woman, I declare!Con.(aside). Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!Mrs. P.Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as good a girl as ever stepped. (Aside toDr. D.) Ah, sir, I’m afraid I shall soon lose her!Dr. D.(aside toMrs. P.). Dear me! you pain me very much. Is she delicate?Mrs. P.Oh no, sir; I don’t mean that; but young girls look to get married.Dr. D.Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there’s plenty of time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or five years hence. But when the timedoescome, I shall have much pleasure in marrying her myself——Con.(aside). Oh, mother!Dr. D.To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of life.Con.(in tears). He doesnotlove me!Mrs. P.I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you’ll excuse the liberty), thatyouhave never married.Dr. D.(aside). Be still, my fluttering heart!Mrs. P.A clergyman’s wife does so much good in a village. Besides that, you are not so young as you were, and before very long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your little comforts.Dr. D.Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say. I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my declining days. Time was when it might have been; but I have left it too long. I am an old fogey now, am I not, my dear? (toConstance)—a very old fogey, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet, my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary old bachelor.Con.Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs onMrs. Partlet’sbosom.)Mrs. P.Come, come, dear one, don’t fret. At a more fitting time we will try again—we will try again.[ExeuntMrs. PartletandConstance.Dr. D.(looking after them). Poor little girl! I’m afraid she has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was when this old heart would have throbbed in double time at the sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here come the young Alexis, with his proud and happy father. Let me dry this tell-tale tear!EnterSir MarmadukeandAlexisfrom house.Recitative.Dr. D.Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—On this most happy, most auspicious plighting,Permit me, as a true old friend, to tenderMy best, my very best congratulations!Sir M.Sir, you are most obleeging!Alex.Dr. Daly,My dear old tutor and my valued pastor,I thank you from the bottom of my heart!(Spoken through music.)Dr. D.May fortune bless you! may the middle distanceOf your young life be pleasant as the foreground—The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,May that which now is the far-off horizon,But which will then become the middle distance,In fruitful promise be exceeded onlyBy that which will have opened, in the mean time,Into a new and glorious horizon!Sir M.Dear sir, that is an excellent exampleOf an old school of stately compliment,To which I have, through life, been much addicted.Will you obleege me with a copy of it,In clerkly manuscript, that I myselfMay use it on appropriate occasions?Dr. D.Sir, you shall have a fairly written copyEre Sol has sunk into his western slumbers![ExitDr. Daly.Sir M.(toAlexis, who is in a reverie). Come, come, my son—yourfiancéewill be here in five minutes. Rouse yourself to receive her.Alex.(rising). Oh, rapture!Sir M.Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will not disguise from you that this union with the house of Sangazure realizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of a sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and thirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, there was a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair with Paris—but where is the family, other than my own, in which there is no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow!Alex.Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love, upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity!Sir M.Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young lady you do not speak so openly. You are always singing ballads in praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate.Alex.Father, a man who loves as I love——Sir M.Pooh, pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason to believe that she returned my love. But were we guilty of the indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other’s arms, exclaiming—Recitative.“Oh, my adored one!” “Beloved boy!”“Ecstatic rapture!” “Unmingled joy!”which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making? No, it was, “Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good health.”—“Sir, you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty well”—and so forth. Much more delicate—much more respectful. But see—Aline approaches; let us retire, that shemay compose herself for the interesting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part.[ExeuntSir Marmadukeinto house.EnterAline, preceded by Chorus ofGirls.Chorus of Girls.With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:To the youth of her choice,With a heart palpitating,Comes the lovely Aline!May their love never cloy!May their bliss be unbounded!With a halo of joyMay their lives be surrounded!Heaven bless our Aline!Recitative.—Aline.My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting,And as you wish me every earthly joy,I trust your wishes may have quick fulfilment!Aria.—Aline.Oh, happy young heart!Comes thy young lord a-wooing,With joy in his eyes,And pride in his breast.Make much of thy prize,For he is the bestThat ever came a-suing.Yet—yet we must part,Young heart!Yet—yet we must part.Oh, merry young heart,Bright are the days of thy wooing!But happier farThe days untried.No sorrow can marWhen Love has tiedThe knot there’s no undoing.Then, never to part,Young heart!Then, never to part!EnterLady Sangazure.Recitative.—Lady S.My child, I join in these congratulations.Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow,’Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!EnterAlexisfrom house, preceded by Chorus ofMen.Chorus of Men and Women.With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:To the maid of his choice,With a heart palpitating,Comes Alexis the brave!Sir Marmadukeenters from house.Lady Sangazureand he exhibit signs of strong emotion at the sight of each other, which they endeavour to repress;AlexisandAlinerush into each other’s arms.Recitative.Alex.Oh, my adored one!Ali.Beloved boy!Alex.Ecstatic rapture!Ali.Unmingled joy!Duet.—Sir MarmadukeandLady Sangazure.Sir M.(with stately courtesy).Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!As Aurora gilds the day,So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,Chase the clouds of care away.Irresistible incentiveBids me humbly kiss your hand;I’m your servant most attentive,Most attentive to command.(Aside, with frantic vehemence.)Wild with adoration!Mad with fascination!To indulge my lamentationNo occasion do I miss!Goaded to distractionBy maddening inaction,I find some satisfactionIn apostrophe like this:“Sangazure immortal,Sangazure divine,Welcome to my portal,Angel, oh, be mine!”(Aloud with much ceremony.)Irresistible incentiveBids me humbly kiss your hand;I’m your servant most attentive,Most attentive to command!Lady S.Sir, I thank you most politelyFor your graceful courtesee:Compliment more true knightlyNever yet was paid to me!Chivalry is an ingredientSadly lacking in our land.Sir, I am your most obedient,Most obedient to command!(Aside, with great vehemence.)Wild with adoration!Mad with fascination!To indulge my lamentationNo occasion do I miss!Goaded to distractionBy maddening inaction,I find some satisfactionIn apostrophe like this:“Marmaduke immortal,Marmaduke divine,Take me to thy portal,Loved one, oh, be mine!”(Aloud, with much ceremony.)Chivalry is an ingredientSadly lacking in our land.Sir, I am your most obedient,Most obedient to command![During this duet a small table has been placed upon stage, byMrs. Partlet. TheCounselhas entered, and prepares marriage contract behind table.Recitative—Counsel.All is prepared for sealing and for signing,The contract has been drafted as agreed;Approach the table, oh ye lovers pining,With hand and seal come execute the deed![AlexisandAlineadvance and sign,Alexissupported bySir Marmaduke,Alineby her mother.Chorus.See they sign, without a quiver, it—Then to seal proceed.They deliver it—they deliver itAs their act and deed!Alex.I deliver it—I deliver itAs my act and deed!Ali.I deliver it—I deliver itAs my act and deed!Chorus.With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:Leave them here to rejoice,With true love palpitating—Alexis the brave,And the lovely Aline![Exeunt all butAlexisandAline.Alex.At last we are alone! My darling, you are now irrevocably betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy?Ali.Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love you beyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not true love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of every earthly joy?Alex.Of that there can be no doubt. Oh that the world could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh that the world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth, education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the panacea for every ill!Ali.Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness!Alex.I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but slowly. Still I have made some converts to the principle, that men and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction of rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics’ Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my views. I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and lunatic asylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm. I have addressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if they married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented.Ali.Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold that the uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what do the countesses say?Alex.Why, at present, it can’t be denied, the aristocracy hold aloof.Ali.The working man is the true Intelligence, after all!Alex.He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes, Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should be independent of external influences. It should live upon itself and by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!Ballad.Alex.Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know.Some love for rank, and some for duty;Some give their hearts away for empty show,And others love for youth and beauty.To love for money all the world is prone;Some love themselves, and live all lonely.Give me the love that loves for love alone;I love that love—I love it only!What man for any other joy can thirst,Whose loving wife adores him duly?Want, misery, and care may do their worst,If loving woman loves you truly.A lover’s thoughts are ever with his own;None truly loved is ever lonely.Give me the love that loves for love alone;I love that love—I love it only!Ali.Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!Alex.Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step in support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W. Wells and Co., the old-established family sorcerers, in St. Mary Axe?Ali.I have seen their advertisement.Alex.They have invented a philtre, which, if report may be believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute it through the village, and within half an hour of my doing so, there will not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the secret of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that?Ali.Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing in a house; quite indispensable in the present state of Thames water; but still I don’t quite see that it is the sort of thing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly joy.Alex.Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn’t say a filter—I said philtre.Ali.So did I, dear.Isaid a filter.Alex.No, dear, you said a filter. I don’t mean a filter—I mean a philtre,—ph, you know.Ali.(alarmed). You don’t mean a love-potion?Alex.On the contrary—Idomean a love-potion.Ali.Oh, Alexis, I don’t think it would be right. I don’t indeed. And then—a real magician! Oh, it would be downright wicked.Alex.Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to steep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple them in matrimony, without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?Ali.Unquestionably, but——Alex.Then, unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in deference to the great and good end I have in view. (Calling.) Hercules!Enter aPagefrom tent.Page.Yes, sir.Alex.Is Mr. Wells there?Page.He’s in the tent, sir—refreshing.Alex.Ask him to be so good as to step this way.Page.Yes, sir.[ExitPage.Ali.Oh, but, Alexis! A real sorcerer! Oh, I shall be frightened to death!Alex.I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the strong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.Ali.It’s nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me with your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turn round.Alex.Hecouldchange you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but it is most unlikely that he would take such liberty. It’s a most respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of so untradesmanlike an act.EnterMr. Wellsfrom tent.Mr. W.Good day, sir.[Alinemuch terrified.Alex.Good day. I believe you are a sorcerer.Mr. W.Yes, sir, we practise necromancy in all its branches. We’ve a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods, amulets, charms, and counter-charms. We can cast you a nativity at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three and six that we can guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent hag who comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, are strongly recommended. Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and our prophetic tablets, foretellingeverything—from a change of ministry down to a rise in Turkish stock—are much inquired for. Our penny curse—one of the cheapest things in the trade—is considered infallible. We have some very superior blessings, too, but they’re very little asked for. We’ve only sold one since Christmas—to a gentleman who bought it to send to his mother-in-law—but it turned out that he was afflicted in the head, and it’s been returned on our hands. But our sale of penny curses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can’t turn ’em out fast enough.Song.—Mr. Wells.Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells.I’m a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and curses,And ever-filled purses,In prophecies, witches, and knells.If you want a proud foe to “make tracks”—If you’d melt a rich uncle in wax—You’ve but to look inOn our resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe.We’ve a first-class assortment of magic;And for raising a posthumous shadeWith effects that are comic or tragic,There’s no cheaper house in the trade.Love-philtre—we’ve quantities of it!And for knowledge if any one burns,We keep an extremely small prophetWho brings us unbounded returns:Oh! he can prophesyWith a wink of his eye,Peep with securityInto futurity,Sum up your history,Clear up a mystery,Humour proclivityFor a nativity—for a nativity;Mirrors so magical,Tetrapods tragical,Bogies spectacular,Answers oracular,Facts astronomical,Solemn or comical,And, if you want it, heMakes a reduction on taking a quantity!Oh!If any one anything lacks,He’ll find it all ready in stacks,If he’ll only look inOn the resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe!He can raise you hostsOf ghosts,And that without reflectors;And creepy thingsWith wings,And gaunt and grisly spectres.He can fill you crowdsOf shrouds,And horrify you vastly;He can rack your brainsWith chains,And gibberings grim and ghastly!Then, if you plan it, heChanges organity,With an urbanityFull of Satanity,Vexes humanityWith an inanityFatal to vanity—Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!Barring tautology,In demonology,’Lectro-biology,Mystic nosology,Spirit philology,High-class astrology,Such is his knowledge, heIsn’t the man to require an apology!Oh!My name is John Wellington Wells.I’m a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and curses,And ever-filled purses,In prophecies, witches, and knells.If any one anything lacks,He’ll find it all ready in stacks,If he’ll only look inOn the resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe!Alex.I have sent for you to consult you on a very important matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen Love-at-first-sight Philtre?Mr. W.Sir, it is our leading article. (Producing a phial.)Alex.Now, I want to know if you can confidently guarantee it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your advertisement?Mr. W.Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods. Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection, and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully realized. (Hurt.)Ali.(aside). Oh, Alexis, don’t offend him! He’ll change us into something dreadful—I know he will!Alex.I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this village. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you sell it?Mr. W.In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to want it. We have it in four and a half and nine gallon casks—also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct 10 per cent. for prompt cash.Ali.Oh, Alexis, surely you don’t want to lay any down!Alex.Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a few minutes. Go and fetch the teapot.Ali.But, Alexis——Alex.My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go and fetch the teapot.Ali.(going). I’m sure Dr. Daly would disapprove it.[ExitAlineinto tent.Alex.And how soon does it take effect?Mr. W.In half an hour. Whoever drinks of it falls in love, as a matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also tasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial will prove the fact.EnterAlinefrom tent with large teapot.Alex.Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you will at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will suffice to affect the whole village.Ali.But bless me, Alexis, many of the villagers are married people.Mr. W.Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest principles. On married people it has no effect whatever. But are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you through the fearful ordeal?Alex.In the good cause I fear nothing.Mr. W.Very good; then we will proceed at once to the Incantation.(The stage grows dark.)Incantation.Mr. W.Sprites of earth and air—Fiends of flame and fire—Demon souls,Come here in shoals,This dreadful deed inspire!Appear, appear, appear!Male Voices.Good master, we are here!Mr. W.Noisome hags of night—Imps of deadly shade—Pallid ghosts,Arise in hosts,And lend me all your aid!Appear, appear, appear!Female Voices.Good master, we are here!Alex.(aside).Hark, they assemble,These fiends of the night!Ali.(aside).Oh, Alexis, I tremble.Seek safety in flight!Aria.—Aline.Let us fly to a far-off land,Where peace and plenty dwell—Where the sigh of the silver strandIs echoed in every shell.To the joy that land will give,On the wings of Love we’ll fly;In innocence there to live—In innocence there to die!Chorus of Spirits.Too late—too late,It may not be!That happy fateIs not for thee!Alexis, Aline, and Mr. Wells.Too late—too late,That may not be!That happy fateIs not for {me! }{thee!}Mr. W.Now, shrivelled hags, with poison bags,Discharge your loathsome loads!Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!Belch forth your venom, toads!Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,Shed curses far afield—Ye fiends of night, your filthy blightIn noisome plenty yield!Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number One!Chorus.It is done!Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number Two!Chorus.One too few!Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number Three!Chorus.Set us free!Set us free—our work is done.Ha! ha! ha!Set us free—our course is run!Ha! ha! ha!AlineandAlexis(aside).Let us fly to a far-off land,Where peace and plenty dwell—Where the sigh of the silver strandIs echoed in every shell.Chorus of Fiends.Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha![Stage grows light.Mr. Wellsbeckons villagers.Enter villagers and all the dramatis personæ, dancing joyously.Sir Marmadukeenters withLady Sangazurefrom house.Vicarenters, absorbed in thought. He is followed byConstance.Counselenters, followed byMrs. Partlet.Mrs. PartletandMr. Wellsdistribute teacups.Chorus.Now to the banquet we press;Now for the eggs, the ham,Now for the mustard and cress,Now for the strawberry jam!Now for the tea of our host,Now for the rollicking bun,Now for the muffin and toast,Now for the gay Sally Lunn!Women.The eggs, and the ham, and the strawberry jam!Men.The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!The rollicking, rollicking bun!Recitative.—Sir Marmaduke.Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye,Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!Eat, ay, and drink—be merry, I implore ye,For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.Teacup Brindisi.Eat, drink, and be gay,Banish all worry and sorrow;Laugh gaily to-day,Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow!Come, pass the cup round—I will go bail for the liquor;It’s strong, I’ll be bound,For it was brewed by the vicar!Chorus.None so knowing as heAt brewing a jorum of tea,Ha! ha!A pretty stiff jorum of tea!Trio.—Mr. Wells, Aline, and Alexis(aside).See—see—they drink—All thought unheeding;The teacups clink—They are exceeding!Their hearts will meltIn half an hour—Then will be feltThe potion’s power![During this verseConstancehas brought a small teapot, kettle, caddy, and cosy toDr. Daly. He makes tea scientifically.Brindisi,2nd Verse.—Dr. Daly(with the teapot).Pain, trouble, and care,Misery, heart-ache, and worry,Quick, out of your lair!Get you all gone in a hurry!Toil, sorrow, and plot,Fly away quicker and quicker—Three spoons to the pot—That is the brew of your vicar!Chorus.None so cunning as heAt brewing a jorum of tea,Ha! ha!A pretty stiff jorum of tea![Dr. Dalyplaces teapot on tray held byConstance. He covers it with the cosy. She takes tray into the house.Ensemble.—Alexis and Aline(aside).Oh, love, true love—unworldly, abiding!Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy—Oh, love, true love—divinely confiding,Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy!Oh, love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss—Oh, love, true love, look down on our sadness—Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this![It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that the charm is working. All rub their eyes.Tutti(aside).Alexis, Mr. Wells, and Aline(aside).Oh, marvellous illusion!A marvellous illusion—Oh, terrible surprise!A terrible surpriseWhat is this strange confusionExcites a strange confusionThat veils my aching eyes?Within their aching eyes—I must regain my senses,They must regain their senses,Restoring Reason’s law,Restoring Reason’s law,Or fearful inferencesOr fearful inferencesThe company will draw!The company will draw![Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle against its effects, and resume the Brindisi with a violent effort.Tutti.Eat, drink, and be gay,Banish all worry and sorrow,Laugh gaily to-day,Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow;Come, pass the cup round—We will go bail for the liquor;It’s strong, I’ll be bound,For it was brewed by the vicar!None so cunning as heAt brewing a jorum of tea.Ha! ha!At brewing a jorum of tea!

Scene.—Garden of Sir Marmaduke’s Elizabethan mansion. The end of a large marquee, open, and showing portion of table covered with white cloth, on which are joints of meat, teapots, cups, bread and butter, jam, etc. To the back a raised terrace with steps. A park in the background, with spire of church seen above the trees.

Chorus of Peasantry.

Ring forth, ye bells,With clarion sound—Forget your knells,For joys abound.Forget your notesOf mournful lay,And from your throatsPour joy to-day.For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis PointdextreIs betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her,At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!Ring forth, ye bells, etc.

Ring forth, ye bells,With clarion sound—Forget your knells,For joys abound.Forget your notesOf mournful lay,And from your throatsPour joy to-day.

Ring forth, ye bells,

With clarion sound—

Forget your knells,

For joys abound.

Forget your notes

Of mournful lay,

And from your throats

Pour joy to-day.

For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis PointdextreIs betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her,At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!

For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis Pointdextre

Is betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,

And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her,

At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!

Ring forth, ye bells, etc.

[At the end of chorus, exeunt theMeninto house.

EnterMrs. Partlet, meetingConstance, her daughter.

Recitative.

Mrs. P.Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?The village rings with seasonable joy,Because the young and amiable Alexis,Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,Is plighted to Aline, the only daughterOf Annabella, Lady Sangazure.You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!Con.Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexionFrom red to white should change in quick succession—And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!If my poor limbs shall tremble with emotion,Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne’er be known!Mrs. P.My child, be candid; think not to deceiveThe eagle-eyed pew-opener—you love!Con.(aside).How guessed she that, my heart’s most cherished secret?(Aloud.) Idolove, fondly—madly—hopelessly!

Mrs. P.Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?

The village rings with seasonable joy,

Because the young and amiable Alexis,

Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,

Is plighted to Aline, the only daughter

Of Annabella, Lady Sangazure.

You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;

What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!

Con.Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexionFrom red to white should change in quick succession—And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!If my poor limbs shall tremble with emotion,Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne’er be known!

Con.Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexion

From red to white should change in quick succession—

And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!

If my poor limbs shall tremble with emotion,

Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!

If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,

Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne’er be known!

Mrs. P.My child, be candid; think not to deceiveThe eagle-eyed pew-opener—you love!

Mrs. P.My child, be candid; think not to deceive

The eagle-eyed pew-opener—you love!

Con.(aside).How guessed she that, my heart’s most cherished secret?(Aloud.) Idolove, fondly—madly—hopelessly!

Con.(aside).

How guessed she that, my heart’s most cherished secret?

(Aloud.) Idolove, fondly—madly—hopelessly!

Aria.—Constance.

When he is here,I sigh with pleasure;When he is gone,I sigh with grief.My hopeless fearNo soul can measure;His love aloneCan give my aching heart relief!When he is cold,I weep for sorrow;When he is kind,I weep for joy.My grief untoldKnows no to-morrow.My woe can findNo hope, no solace, no alloy!

When he is here,

I sigh with pleasure;

When he is gone,

I sigh with grief.

My hopeless fear

No soul can measure;

His love alone

Can give my aching heart relief!

When he is cold,

I weep for sorrow;

When he is kind,

I weep for joy.

My grief untold

Knows no to-morrow.

My woe can find

No hope, no solace, no alloy!

[At the end of the song,Mrs. Partletsilently motions toWomento leave them together. ExeuntChorus.

Mrs. P.Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear—I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!Who is the object of your young affections?Con.Hush, mother! He is here!EnterDr. Daly. He is pensive, and does not see them. He sits on stool.Mrs. P.(amazed).Our reverend vicar!Con.Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!Mrs. P.My child, be comforted. To such an unionI shall not offer any opposition.Take him—he’s yours! May you and he be happy!Con.But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!Mrs. P.That’s true, indeed!Con.He might object!Mrs. P.He might.But come; take heart. I’ll probe him on the subject.Be comforted; leave this affair to me.

Mrs. P.Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear—I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!Who is the object of your young affections?

Mrs. P.Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear—

I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!

Who is the object of your young affections?

Con.Hush, mother! He is here!

EnterDr. Daly. He is pensive, and does not see them. He sits on stool.

Mrs. P.(amazed).Our reverend vicar!

Con.Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!

Mrs. P.My child, be comforted. To such an unionI shall not offer any opposition.Take him—he’s yours! May you and he be happy!

Mrs. P.My child, be comforted. To such an union

I shall not offer any opposition.

Take him—he’s yours! May you and he be happy!

Con.But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!

Mrs. P.That’s true, indeed!

Con.He might object!

Mrs. P.He might.But come; take heart. I’ll probe him on the subject.Be comforted; leave this affair to me.

Mrs. P.He might.

But come; take heart. I’ll probe him on the subject.

Be comforted; leave this affair to me.

Recitative—Dr. Daly.

The air is charged with amatory numbers—Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers’ lays.Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbersThe aching memory of the old, old days?

The air is charged with amatory numbers—

Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers’ lays.

Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers

The aching memory of the old, old days?

Ballad.

Time was when Love and I were well acquainted.Time was when we walked ever hand in hand,A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted—None better loved than I in all the land!Time was when maidens of the noblest station,Forsaking even military men,Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration.Ah me! I was a fair young curate then!Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;And when I coughed all thought the end was near.I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o’er me;For I was loved beyond all other men.Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.Ah me! I was a pale young curate then!

Time was when Love and I were well acquainted.

Time was when we walked ever hand in hand,

A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted—

None better loved than I in all the land!

Time was when maidens of the noblest station,

Forsaking even military men,

Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration.

Ah me! I was a fair young curate then!

Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;And when I coughed all thought the end was near.I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o’er me;For I was loved beyond all other men.Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.Ah me! I was a pale young curate then!

Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;

Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;

Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;

And when I coughed all thought the end was near.

I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o’er me;

For I was loved beyond all other men.

Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.

Ah me! I was a pale young curate then!

[At the conclusion of the ballad,Mrs. Partletcomes forward withConstance.

Mrs. P.Good day, reverend sir.

Dr. D.Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little woman, I declare!

Con.(aside). Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!

Mrs. P.Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as good a girl as ever stepped. (Aside toDr. D.) Ah, sir, I’m afraid I shall soon lose her!

Dr. D.(aside toMrs. P.). Dear me! you pain me very much. Is she delicate?

Mrs. P.Oh no, sir; I don’t mean that; but young girls look to get married.

Dr. D.Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there’s plenty of time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or five years hence. But when the timedoescome, I shall have much pleasure in marrying her myself——

Con.(aside). Oh, mother!

Dr. D.To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of life.

Con.(in tears). He doesnotlove me!

Mrs. P.I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you’ll excuse the liberty), thatyouhave never married.

Dr. D.(aside). Be still, my fluttering heart!

Mrs. P.A clergyman’s wife does so much good in a village. Besides that, you are not so young as you were, and before very long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your little comforts.

Dr. D.Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say. I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my declining days. Time was when it might have been; but I have left it too long. I am an old fogey now, am I not, my dear? (toConstance)—a very old fogey, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet, my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary old bachelor.

Con.Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs onMrs. Partlet’sbosom.)

Mrs. P.Come, come, dear one, don’t fret. At a more fitting time we will try again—we will try again.

[ExeuntMrs. PartletandConstance.

Dr. D.(looking after them). Poor little girl! I’m afraid she has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was when this old heart would have throbbed in double time at the sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here come the young Alexis, with his proud and happy father. Let me dry this tell-tale tear!

EnterSir MarmadukeandAlexisfrom house.

Recitative.

Dr. D.Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—On this most happy, most auspicious plighting,Permit me, as a true old friend, to tenderMy best, my very best congratulations!Sir M.Sir, you are most obleeging!Alex.Dr. Daly,My dear old tutor and my valued pastor,I thank you from the bottom of my heart!(Spoken through music.)Dr. D.May fortune bless you! may the middle distanceOf your young life be pleasant as the foreground—The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,May that which now is the far-off horizon,But which will then become the middle distance,In fruitful promise be exceeded onlyBy that which will have opened, in the mean time,Into a new and glorious horizon!Sir M.Dear sir, that is an excellent exampleOf an old school of stately compliment,To which I have, through life, been much addicted.Will you obleege me with a copy of it,In clerkly manuscript, that I myselfMay use it on appropriate occasions?Dr. D.Sir, you shall have a fairly written copyEre Sol has sunk into his western slumbers![ExitDr. Daly.

Dr. D.Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—On this most happy, most auspicious plighting,Permit me, as a true old friend, to tenderMy best, my very best congratulations!

Dr. D.Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—

On this most happy, most auspicious plighting,

Permit me, as a true old friend, to tender

My best, my very best congratulations!

Sir M.Sir, you are most obleeging!

Alex.Dr. Daly,My dear old tutor and my valued pastor,I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Alex.Dr. Daly,

My dear old tutor and my valued pastor,

I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

(Spoken through music.)

Dr. D.May fortune bless you! may the middle distanceOf your young life be pleasant as the foreground—The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,May that which now is the far-off horizon,But which will then become the middle distance,In fruitful promise be exceeded onlyBy that which will have opened, in the mean time,Into a new and glorious horizon!

Dr. D.May fortune bless you! may the middle distance

Of your young life be pleasant as the foreground—

The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,

May that which now is the far-off horizon,

But which will then become the middle distance,

In fruitful promise be exceeded only

By that which will have opened, in the mean time,

Into a new and glorious horizon!

Sir M.Dear sir, that is an excellent exampleOf an old school of stately compliment,To which I have, through life, been much addicted.Will you obleege me with a copy of it,In clerkly manuscript, that I myselfMay use it on appropriate occasions?

Sir M.Dear sir, that is an excellent example

Of an old school of stately compliment,

To which I have, through life, been much addicted.

Will you obleege me with a copy of it,

In clerkly manuscript, that I myself

May use it on appropriate occasions?

Dr. D.Sir, you shall have a fairly written copyEre Sol has sunk into his western slumbers![ExitDr. Daly.

Dr. D.Sir, you shall have a fairly written copy

Ere Sol has sunk into his western slumbers!

[ExitDr. Daly.

Sir M.(toAlexis, who is in a reverie). Come, come, my son—yourfiancéewill be here in five minutes. Rouse yourself to receive her.

Alex.(rising). Oh, rapture!

Sir M.Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will not disguise from you that this union with the house of Sangazure realizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of a sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and thirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, there was a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair with Paris—but where is the family, other than my own, in which there is no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow!

Alex.Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love, upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity!

Sir M.Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young lady you do not speak so openly. You are always singing ballads in praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate.

Alex.Father, a man who loves as I love——

Sir M.Pooh, pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason to believe that she returned my love. But were we guilty of the indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other’s arms, exclaiming—

Recitative.

“Oh, my adored one!” “Beloved boy!”“Ecstatic rapture!” “Unmingled joy!”

“Oh, my adored one!” “Beloved boy!”

“Ecstatic rapture!” “Unmingled joy!”

which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making? No, it was, “Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good health.”—“Sir, you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty well”—and so forth. Much more delicate—much more respectful. But see—Aline approaches; let us retire, that shemay compose herself for the interesting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part.

[ExeuntSir Marmadukeinto house.

EnterAline, preceded by Chorus ofGirls.

Chorus of Girls.

With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:To the youth of her choice,With a heart palpitating,Comes the lovely Aline!May their love never cloy!May their bliss be unbounded!With a halo of joyMay their lives be surrounded!Heaven bless our Aline!

With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:To the youth of her choice,With a heart palpitating,Comes the lovely Aline!

With heart and with voice

Let us welcome this mating:

To the youth of her choice,

With a heart palpitating,

Comes the lovely Aline!

May their love never cloy!May their bliss be unbounded!With a halo of joyMay their lives be surrounded!Heaven bless our Aline!

May their love never cloy!

May their bliss be unbounded!

With a halo of joy

May their lives be surrounded!

Heaven bless our Aline!

Recitative.—Aline.

My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting,And as you wish me every earthly joy,I trust your wishes may have quick fulfilment!

My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting,

And as you wish me every earthly joy,

I trust your wishes may have quick fulfilment!

Aria.—Aline.

Oh, happy young heart!Comes thy young lord a-wooing,With joy in his eyes,And pride in his breast.Make much of thy prize,For he is the bestThat ever came a-suing.Yet—yet we must part,Young heart!Yet—yet we must part.Oh, merry young heart,Bright are the days of thy wooing!But happier farThe days untried.No sorrow can marWhen Love has tiedThe knot there’s no undoing.Then, never to part,Young heart!Then, never to part!

Oh, happy young heart!

Comes thy young lord a-wooing,

With joy in his eyes,

And pride in his breast.

Make much of thy prize,

For he is the best

That ever came a-suing.

Yet—yet we must part,

Young heart!

Yet—yet we must part.

Oh, merry young heart,Bright are the days of thy wooing!But happier farThe days untried.No sorrow can marWhen Love has tiedThe knot there’s no undoing.Then, never to part,Young heart!Then, never to part!

Oh, merry young heart,

Bright are the days of thy wooing!

But happier far

The days untried.

No sorrow can mar

When Love has tied

The knot there’s no undoing.

Then, never to part,

Young heart!

Then, never to part!

EnterLady Sangazure.

Recitative.—Lady S.

My child, I join in these congratulations.Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow,’Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!

My child, I join in these congratulations.

Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!

Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow,

’Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!

EnterAlexisfrom house, preceded by Chorus ofMen.

Chorus of Men and Women.

With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:To the maid of his choice,With a heart palpitating,Comes Alexis the brave!

With heart and with voice

Let us welcome this mating:

To the maid of his choice,

With a heart palpitating,

Comes Alexis the brave!

Sir Marmadukeenters from house.Lady Sangazureand he exhibit signs of strong emotion at the sight of each other, which they endeavour to repress;AlexisandAlinerush into each other’s arms.

Recitative.

Alex.Oh, my adored one!Ali.Beloved boy!Alex.Ecstatic rapture!Ali.Unmingled joy!

Alex.Oh, my adored one!

Ali.Beloved boy!

Alex.Ecstatic rapture!

Ali.Unmingled joy!

Duet.—Sir MarmadukeandLady Sangazure.

Sir M.(with stately courtesy).Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!As Aurora gilds the day,So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,Chase the clouds of care away.Irresistible incentiveBids me humbly kiss your hand;I’m your servant most attentive,Most attentive to command.(Aside, with frantic vehemence.)Wild with adoration!Mad with fascination!To indulge my lamentationNo occasion do I miss!Goaded to distractionBy maddening inaction,I find some satisfactionIn apostrophe like this:“Sangazure immortal,Sangazure divine,Welcome to my portal,Angel, oh, be mine!”(Aloud with much ceremony.)Irresistible incentiveBids me humbly kiss your hand;I’m your servant most attentive,Most attentive to command!Lady S.Sir, I thank you most politelyFor your graceful courtesee:Compliment more true knightlyNever yet was paid to me!Chivalry is an ingredientSadly lacking in our land.Sir, I am your most obedient,Most obedient to command!(Aside, with great vehemence.)Wild with adoration!Mad with fascination!To indulge my lamentationNo occasion do I miss!Goaded to distractionBy maddening inaction,I find some satisfactionIn apostrophe like this:“Marmaduke immortal,Marmaduke divine,Take me to thy portal,Loved one, oh, be mine!”(Aloud, with much ceremony.)Chivalry is an ingredientSadly lacking in our land.Sir, I am your most obedient,Most obedient to command!

Sir M.(with stately courtesy).

Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!

As Aurora gilds the day,

So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,

Chase the clouds of care away.

Irresistible incentive

Bids me humbly kiss your hand;

I’m your servant most attentive,

Most attentive to command.

(Aside, with frantic vehemence.)Wild with adoration!Mad with fascination!To indulge my lamentationNo occasion do I miss!Goaded to distractionBy maddening inaction,I find some satisfactionIn apostrophe like this:“Sangazure immortal,Sangazure divine,Welcome to my portal,Angel, oh, be mine!”

(Aside, with frantic vehemence.)

Wild with adoration!

Mad with fascination!

To indulge my lamentation

No occasion do I miss!

Goaded to distraction

By maddening inaction,

I find some satisfaction

In apostrophe like this:

“Sangazure immortal,

Sangazure divine,

Welcome to my portal,

Angel, oh, be mine!”

(Aloud with much ceremony.)Irresistible incentiveBids me humbly kiss your hand;I’m your servant most attentive,Most attentive to command!

(Aloud with much ceremony.)

Irresistible incentive

Bids me humbly kiss your hand;

I’m your servant most attentive,

Most attentive to command!

Lady S.Sir, I thank you most politelyFor your graceful courtesee:Compliment more true knightlyNever yet was paid to me!Chivalry is an ingredientSadly lacking in our land.Sir, I am your most obedient,Most obedient to command!

Lady S.

Sir, I thank you most politely

For your graceful courtesee:

Compliment more true knightly

Never yet was paid to me!

Chivalry is an ingredient

Sadly lacking in our land.

Sir, I am your most obedient,

Most obedient to command!

(Aside, with great vehemence.)Wild with adoration!Mad with fascination!To indulge my lamentationNo occasion do I miss!Goaded to distractionBy maddening inaction,I find some satisfactionIn apostrophe like this:“Marmaduke immortal,Marmaduke divine,Take me to thy portal,Loved one, oh, be mine!”

(Aside, with great vehemence.)

Wild with adoration!

Mad with fascination!

To indulge my lamentation

No occasion do I miss!

Goaded to distraction

By maddening inaction,

I find some satisfaction

In apostrophe like this:

“Marmaduke immortal,

Marmaduke divine,

Take me to thy portal,

Loved one, oh, be mine!”

(Aloud, with much ceremony.)Chivalry is an ingredientSadly lacking in our land.Sir, I am your most obedient,Most obedient to command!

(Aloud, with much ceremony.)

Chivalry is an ingredient

Sadly lacking in our land.

Sir, I am your most obedient,

Most obedient to command!

[During this duet a small table has been placed upon stage, byMrs. Partlet. TheCounselhas entered, and prepares marriage contract behind table.

Recitative—Counsel.

All is prepared for sealing and for signing,The contract has been drafted as agreed;Approach the table, oh ye lovers pining,With hand and seal come execute the deed!

All is prepared for sealing and for signing,

The contract has been drafted as agreed;

Approach the table, oh ye lovers pining,

With hand and seal come execute the deed!

[AlexisandAlineadvance and sign,Alexissupported bySir Marmaduke,Alineby her mother.

Chorus.

See they sign, without a quiver, it—Then to seal proceed.They deliver it—they deliver itAs their act and deed!Alex.I deliver it—I deliver itAs my act and deed!Ali.I deliver it—I deliver itAs my act and deed!

See they sign, without a quiver, it—Then to seal proceed.They deliver it—they deliver itAs their act and deed!

See they sign, without a quiver, it—

Then to seal proceed.

They deliver it—they deliver it

As their act and deed!

Alex.I deliver it—I deliver itAs my act and deed!

Alex.I deliver it—I deliver it

As my act and deed!

Ali.I deliver it—I deliver itAs my act and deed!

Ali.I deliver it—I deliver it

As my act and deed!

Chorus.

With heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating:Leave them here to rejoice,With true love palpitating—Alexis the brave,And the lovely Aline!

With heart and with voice

Let us welcome this mating:

Leave them here to rejoice,

With true love palpitating—

Alexis the brave,

And the lovely Aline!

[Exeunt all butAlexisandAline.

Alex.At last we are alone! My darling, you are now irrevocably betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy?

Ali.Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love you beyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not true love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of every earthly joy?

Alex.Of that there can be no doubt. Oh that the world could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh that the world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth, education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the panacea for every ill!

Ali.Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness!

Alex.I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but slowly. Still I have made some converts to the principle, that men and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction of rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics’ Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my views. I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and lunatic asylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm. I have addressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if they married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented.

Ali.Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold that the uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what do the countesses say?

Alex.Why, at present, it can’t be denied, the aristocracy hold aloof.

Ali.The working man is the true Intelligence, after all!

Alex.He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes, Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should be independent of external influences. It should live upon itself and by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!

Ballad.

Alex.Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know.Some love for rank, and some for duty;Some give their hearts away for empty show,And others love for youth and beauty.To love for money all the world is prone;Some love themselves, and live all lonely.Give me the love that loves for love alone;I love that love—I love it only!What man for any other joy can thirst,Whose loving wife adores him duly?Want, misery, and care may do their worst,If loving woman loves you truly.A lover’s thoughts are ever with his own;None truly loved is ever lonely.Give me the love that loves for love alone;I love that love—I love it only!

Alex.Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know.

Some love for rank, and some for duty;

Some give their hearts away for empty show,

And others love for youth and beauty.

To love for money all the world is prone;

Some love themselves, and live all lonely.

Give me the love that loves for love alone;

I love that love—I love it only!

What man for any other joy can thirst,Whose loving wife adores him duly?Want, misery, and care may do their worst,If loving woman loves you truly.A lover’s thoughts are ever with his own;None truly loved is ever lonely.Give me the love that loves for love alone;I love that love—I love it only!

What man for any other joy can thirst,

Whose loving wife adores him duly?

Want, misery, and care may do their worst,

If loving woman loves you truly.

A lover’s thoughts are ever with his own;

None truly loved is ever lonely.

Give me the love that loves for love alone;

I love that love—I love it only!

Ali.Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!

Alex.Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step in support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W. Wells and Co., the old-established family sorcerers, in St. Mary Axe?

Ali.I have seen their advertisement.

Alex.They have invented a philtre, which, if report may be believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute it through the village, and within half an hour of my doing so, there will not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the secret of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that?

Ali.Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing in a house; quite indispensable in the present state of Thames water; but still I don’t quite see that it is the sort of thing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly joy.

Alex.Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn’t say a filter—I said philtre.

Ali.So did I, dear.Isaid a filter.

Alex.No, dear, you said a filter. I don’t mean a filter—I mean a philtre,—ph, you know.

Ali.(alarmed). You don’t mean a love-potion?

Alex.On the contrary—Idomean a love-potion.

Ali.Oh, Alexis, I don’t think it would be right. I don’t indeed. And then—a real magician! Oh, it would be downright wicked.

Alex.Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to steep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple them in matrimony, without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?

Ali.Unquestionably, but——

Alex.Then, unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in deference to the great and good end I have in view. (Calling.) Hercules!

Enter aPagefrom tent.

Page.Yes, sir.

Alex.Is Mr. Wells there?

Page.He’s in the tent, sir—refreshing.

Alex.Ask him to be so good as to step this way.

Page.Yes, sir.

[ExitPage.

Ali.Oh, but, Alexis! A real sorcerer! Oh, I shall be frightened to death!

Alex.I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the strong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.

Ali.It’s nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me with your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turn round.

Alex.Hecouldchange you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but it is most unlikely that he would take such liberty. It’s a most respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of so untradesmanlike an act.

EnterMr. Wellsfrom tent.

Mr. W.Good day, sir.

[Alinemuch terrified.

Alex.Good day. I believe you are a sorcerer.

Mr. W.Yes, sir, we practise necromancy in all its branches. We’ve a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods, amulets, charms, and counter-charms. We can cast you a nativity at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three and six that we can guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent hag who comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, are strongly recommended. Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and our prophetic tablets, foretellingeverything—from a change of ministry down to a rise in Turkish stock—are much inquired for. Our penny curse—one of the cheapest things in the trade—is considered infallible. We have some very superior blessings, too, but they’re very little asked for. We’ve only sold one since Christmas—to a gentleman who bought it to send to his mother-in-law—but it turned out that he was afflicted in the head, and it’s been returned on our hands. But our sale of penny curses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can’t turn ’em out fast enough.

Song.—Mr. Wells.

Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells.I’m a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and curses,And ever-filled purses,In prophecies, witches, and knells.If you want a proud foe to “make tracks”—If you’d melt a rich uncle in wax—You’ve but to look inOn our resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe.We’ve a first-class assortment of magic;And for raising a posthumous shadeWith effects that are comic or tragic,There’s no cheaper house in the trade.Love-philtre—we’ve quantities of it!And for knowledge if any one burns,We keep an extremely small prophetWho brings us unbounded returns:Oh! he can prophesyWith a wink of his eye,Peep with securityInto futurity,Sum up your history,Clear up a mystery,Humour proclivityFor a nativity—for a nativity;Mirrors so magical,Tetrapods tragical,Bogies spectacular,Answers oracular,Facts astronomical,Solemn or comical,And, if you want it, heMakes a reduction on taking a quantity!Oh!If any one anything lacks,He’ll find it all ready in stacks,If he’ll only look inOn the resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe!He can raise you hostsOf ghosts,And that without reflectors;And creepy thingsWith wings,And gaunt and grisly spectres.He can fill you crowdsOf shrouds,And horrify you vastly;He can rack your brainsWith chains,And gibberings grim and ghastly!Then, if you plan it, heChanges organity,With an urbanityFull of Satanity,Vexes humanityWith an inanityFatal to vanity—Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!Barring tautology,In demonology,’Lectro-biology,Mystic nosology,Spirit philology,High-class astrology,Such is his knowledge, heIsn’t the man to require an apology!Oh!My name is John Wellington Wells.I’m a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and curses,And ever-filled purses,In prophecies, witches, and knells.If any one anything lacks,He’ll find it all ready in stacks,If he’ll only look inOn the resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells.I’m a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and curses,And ever-filled purses,In prophecies, witches, and knells.

Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells.

I’m a dealer in magic and spells,

In blessings and curses,

And ever-filled purses,

In prophecies, witches, and knells.

If you want a proud foe to “make tracks”—If you’d melt a rich uncle in wax—You’ve but to look inOn our resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe.

If you want a proud foe to “make tracks”—

If you’d melt a rich uncle in wax—

You’ve but to look in

On our resident Djinn,

Number seventy, Simmery Axe.

We’ve a first-class assortment of magic;And for raising a posthumous shadeWith effects that are comic or tragic,There’s no cheaper house in the trade.Love-philtre—we’ve quantities of it!And for knowledge if any one burns,We keep an extremely small prophetWho brings us unbounded returns:

We’ve a first-class assortment of magic;

And for raising a posthumous shade

With effects that are comic or tragic,

There’s no cheaper house in the trade.

Love-philtre—we’ve quantities of it!

And for knowledge if any one burns,

We keep an extremely small prophet

Who brings us unbounded returns:

Oh! he can prophesyWith a wink of his eye,Peep with securityInto futurity,Sum up your history,Clear up a mystery,Humour proclivityFor a nativity—for a nativity;Mirrors so magical,Tetrapods tragical,Bogies spectacular,Answers oracular,Facts astronomical,Solemn or comical,And, if you want it, heMakes a reduction on taking a quantity!

Oh! he can prophesy

With a wink of his eye,

Peep with security

Into futurity,

Sum up your history,

Clear up a mystery,

Humour proclivity

For a nativity—for a nativity;

Mirrors so magical,

Tetrapods tragical,

Bogies spectacular,

Answers oracular,

Facts astronomical,

Solemn or comical,

And, if you want it, he

Makes a reduction on taking a quantity!

Oh!If any one anything lacks,He’ll find it all ready in stacks,If he’ll only look inOn the resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

Oh!

If any one anything lacks,

He’ll find it all ready in stacks,

If he’ll only look in

On the resident Djinn,

Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

He can raise you hostsOf ghosts,And that without reflectors;And creepy thingsWith wings,And gaunt and grisly spectres.He can fill you crowdsOf shrouds,And horrify you vastly;He can rack your brainsWith chains,And gibberings grim and ghastly!

He can raise you hosts

Of ghosts,

And that without reflectors;

And creepy things

With wings,

And gaunt and grisly spectres.

He can fill you crowds

Of shrouds,

And horrify you vastly;

He can rack your brains

With chains,

And gibberings grim and ghastly!

Then, if you plan it, heChanges organity,With an urbanityFull of Satanity,Vexes humanityWith an inanityFatal to vanity—Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!Barring tautology,In demonology,’Lectro-biology,Mystic nosology,Spirit philology,High-class astrology,Such is his knowledge, heIsn’t the man to require an apology!

Then, if you plan it, he

Changes organity,

With an urbanity

Full of Satanity,

Vexes humanity

With an inanity

Fatal to vanity—

Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!

Barring tautology,

In demonology,

’Lectro-biology,

Mystic nosology,

Spirit philology,

High-class astrology,

Such is his knowledge, he

Isn’t the man to require an apology!

Oh!My name is John Wellington Wells.I’m a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and curses,And ever-filled purses,In prophecies, witches, and knells.

Oh!

My name is John Wellington Wells.

I’m a dealer in magic and spells,

In blessings and curses,

And ever-filled purses,

In prophecies, witches, and knells.

If any one anything lacks,He’ll find it all ready in stacks,If he’ll only look inOn the resident Djinn,Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

If any one anything lacks,

He’ll find it all ready in stacks,

If he’ll only look in

On the resident Djinn,

Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

Alex.I have sent for you to consult you on a very important matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen Love-at-first-sight Philtre?

Mr. W.Sir, it is our leading article. (Producing a phial.)

Alex.Now, I want to know if you can confidently guarantee it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your advertisement?

Mr. W.Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods. Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection, and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully realized. (Hurt.)

Ali.(aside). Oh, Alexis, don’t offend him! He’ll change us into something dreadful—I know he will!

Alex.I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this village. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you sell it?

Mr. W.In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to want it. We have it in four and a half and nine gallon casks—also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct 10 per cent. for prompt cash.

Ali.Oh, Alexis, surely you don’t want to lay any down!

Alex.Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a few minutes. Go and fetch the teapot.

Ali.But, Alexis——

Alex.My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go and fetch the teapot.

Ali.(going). I’m sure Dr. Daly would disapprove it.

[ExitAlineinto tent.

Alex.And how soon does it take effect?

Mr. W.In half an hour. Whoever drinks of it falls in love, as a matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also tasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial will prove the fact.

EnterAlinefrom tent with large teapot.

Alex.Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you will at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will suffice to affect the whole village.

Ali.But bless me, Alexis, many of the villagers are married people.

Mr. W.Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest principles. On married people it has no effect whatever. But are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you through the fearful ordeal?

Alex.In the good cause I fear nothing.

Mr. W.Very good; then we will proceed at once to the Incantation.

(The stage grows dark.)

Incantation.

Mr. W.Sprites of earth and air—Fiends of flame and fire—Demon souls,Come here in shoals,This dreadful deed inspire!Appear, appear, appear!Male Voices.Good master, we are here!Mr. W.Noisome hags of night—Imps of deadly shade—Pallid ghosts,Arise in hosts,And lend me all your aid!Appear, appear, appear!Female Voices.Good master, we are here!Alex.(aside).Hark, they assemble,These fiends of the night!Ali.(aside).Oh, Alexis, I tremble.Seek safety in flight!

Mr. W.Sprites of earth and air—Fiends of flame and fire—Demon souls,Come here in shoals,This dreadful deed inspire!Appear, appear, appear!

Mr. W.Sprites of earth and air—

Fiends of flame and fire—

Demon souls,

Come here in shoals,

This dreadful deed inspire!

Appear, appear, appear!

Male Voices.Good master, we are here!

Mr. W.Noisome hags of night—Imps of deadly shade—Pallid ghosts,Arise in hosts,And lend me all your aid!Appear, appear, appear!

Mr. W.Noisome hags of night—

Imps of deadly shade—

Pallid ghosts,

Arise in hosts,

And lend me all your aid!

Appear, appear, appear!

Female Voices.Good master, we are here!

Alex.(aside).Hark, they assemble,These fiends of the night!

Alex.(aside).Hark, they assemble,

These fiends of the night!

Ali.(aside).Oh, Alexis, I tremble.Seek safety in flight!

Ali.(aside).Oh, Alexis, I tremble.

Seek safety in flight!

Aria.—Aline.

Let us fly to a far-off land,Where peace and plenty dwell—Where the sigh of the silver strandIs echoed in every shell.To the joy that land will give,On the wings of Love we’ll fly;In innocence there to live—In innocence there to die!

Let us fly to a far-off land,

Where peace and plenty dwell—

Where the sigh of the silver strand

Is echoed in every shell.

To the joy that land will give,

On the wings of Love we’ll fly;

In innocence there to live—

In innocence there to die!

Chorus of Spirits.

Too late—too late,It may not be!That happy fateIs not for thee!

Too late—too late,

It may not be!

That happy fate

Is not for thee!

Alexis, Aline, and Mr. Wells.

Too late—too late,That may not be!That happy fateIs not for {me! }{thee!}Mr. W.Now, shrivelled hags, with poison bags,Discharge your loathsome loads!Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!Belch forth your venom, toads!Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,Shed curses far afield—Ye fiends of night, your filthy blightIn noisome plenty yield!Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number One!Chorus.It is done!Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number Two!Chorus.One too few!Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number Three!Chorus.Set us free!Set us free—our work is done.Ha! ha! ha!Set us free—our course is run!Ha! ha! ha!

Too late—too late,That may not be!That happy fateIs not for {me! }{thee!}

Too late—too late,

That may not be!

That happy fate

Is not for {me! }

{thee!}

Mr. W.Now, shrivelled hags, with poison bags,Discharge your loathsome loads!Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!Belch forth your venom, toads!Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,Shed curses far afield—Ye fiends of night, your filthy blightIn noisome plenty yield!

Mr. W.Now, shrivelled hags, with poison bags,

Discharge your loathsome loads!

Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!

Belch forth your venom, toads!

Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,

Shed curses far afield—

Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight

In noisome plenty yield!

Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number One!

Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).

Number One!

Chorus.It is done!

Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number Two!

Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).

Number Two!

Chorus.One too few!

Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).Number Three!

Mr. W.(pouring phial into teapot—flash).

Number Three!

Chorus.Set us free!Set us free—our work is done.Ha! ha! ha!Set us free—our course is run!Ha! ha! ha!

Chorus.Set us free!

Set us free—our work is done.

Ha! ha! ha!

Set us free—our course is run!

Ha! ha! ha!

AlineandAlexis(aside).

Let us fly to a far-off land,Where peace and plenty dwell—Where the sigh of the silver strandIs echoed in every shell.

Let us fly to a far-off land,

Where peace and plenty dwell—

Where the sigh of the silver strand

Is echoed in every shell.

Chorus of Fiends.

Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

[Stage grows light.Mr. Wellsbeckons villagers.

Enter villagers and all the dramatis personæ, dancing joyously.Sir Marmadukeenters withLady Sangazurefrom house.Vicarenters, absorbed in thought. He is followed byConstance.Counselenters, followed byMrs. Partlet.Mrs. PartletandMr. Wellsdistribute teacups.

Chorus.

Now to the banquet we press;Now for the eggs, the ham,Now for the mustard and cress,Now for the strawberry jam!Now for the tea of our host,Now for the rollicking bun,Now for the muffin and toast,Now for the gay Sally Lunn!Women.The eggs, and the ham, and the strawberry jam!Men.The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!The rollicking, rollicking bun!

Now to the banquet we press;

Now for the eggs, the ham,

Now for the mustard and cress,

Now for the strawberry jam!

Now for the tea of our host,

Now for the rollicking bun,

Now for the muffin and toast,

Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

Women.The eggs, and the ham, and the strawberry jam!

Men.The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!The rollicking, rollicking bun!

Men.The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!

The rollicking, rollicking bun!

Recitative.—Sir Marmaduke.

Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye,Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!Eat, ay, and drink—be merry, I implore ye,For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.

Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye,

Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!

Eat, ay, and drink—be merry, I implore ye,

For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.

Teacup Brindisi.

Eat, drink, and be gay,Banish all worry and sorrow;Laugh gaily to-day,Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow!Come, pass the cup round—I will go bail for the liquor;It’s strong, I’ll be bound,For it was brewed by the vicar!

Eat, drink, and be gay,

Banish all worry and sorrow;

Laugh gaily to-day,

Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow!

Come, pass the cup round—

I will go bail for the liquor;

It’s strong, I’ll be bound,

For it was brewed by the vicar!

Chorus.

None so knowing as heAt brewing a jorum of tea,Ha! ha!A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

None so knowing as he

At brewing a jorum of tea,

Ha! ha!

A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

Trio.—Mr. Wells, Aline, and Alexis(aside).

See—see—they drink—All thought unheeding;The teacups clink—They are exceeding!Their hearts will meltIn half an hour—Then will be feltThe potion’s power!

See—see—they drink—

All thought unheeding;

The teacups clink—

They are exceeding!

Their hearts will melt

In half an hour—

Then will be felt

The potion’s power!

[During this verseConstancehas brought a small teapot, kettle, caddy, and cosy toDr. Daly. He makes tea scientifically.

Brindisi,2nd Verse.—Dr. Daly(with the teapot).

Pain, trouble, and care,Misery, heart-ache, and worry,Quick, out of your lair!Get you all gone in a hurry!Toil, sorrow, and plot,Fly away quicker and quicker—Three spoons to the pot—That is the brew of your vicar!

Pain, trouble, and care,

Misery, heart-ache, and worry,

Quick, out of your lair!

Get you all gone in a hurry!

Toil, sorrow, and plot,

Fly away quicker and quicker—

Three spoons to the pot—

That is the brew of your vicar!

Chorus.

None so cunning as heAt brewing a jorum of tea,Ha! ha!A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

None so cunning as he

At brewing a jorum of tea,

Ha! ha!

A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

[Dr. Dalyplaces teapot on tray held byConstance. He covers it with the cosy. She takes tray into the house.

Ensemble.—Alexis and Aline(aside).

Oh, love, true love—unworldly, abiding!Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy—Oh, love, true love—divinely confiding,Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy!Oh, love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss—Oh, love, true love, look down on our sadness—Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this!

Oh, love, true love—unworldly, abiding!

Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy—

Oh, love, true love—divinely confiding,

Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy!

Oh, love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,

Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss—

Oh, love, true love, look down on our sadness—

Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this!

[It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that the charm is working. All rub their eyes.

[Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle against its effects, and resume the Brindisi with a violent effort.

Tutti.

Eat, drink, and be gay,Banish all worry and sorrow,Laugh gaily to-day,Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow;Come, pass the cup round—We will go bail for the liquor;It’s strong, I’ll be bound,For it was brewed by the vicar!None so cunning as heAt brewing a jorum of tea.Ha! ha!At brewing a jorum of tea!

Eat, drink, and be gay,

Banish all worry and sorrow,

Laugh gaily to-day,

Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow;

Come, pass the cup round—

We will go bail for the liquor;

It’s strong, I’ll be bound,

For it was brewed by the vicar!

None so cunning as he

At brewing a jorum of tea.

Ha! ha!

At brewing a jorum of tea!

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