Scene.—Picture Gallery in Ruddigore Castle. The walls arecovered with full-length portraits of the Baronets ofRuddigore from the time of James I.—the first being that ofSir Rupert, alluded to in the legend; the last, that of thelast deceased Baronet, Sir Roderic.Enter Robin and Adam melodramatically. They are greatly alteredin appearance, Robin wearing the haggard aspect of a guiltyroue; Adam, that of the wicked steward to such a man.DUET—ROBIN and ADAM.ROB. I once was as meek as a new-born lamb,I'm now Sir Murgatroyd—ha! ha!With greater precision(Without the elision),Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd—ha! ha!ADAM. And I, who was once his valley-de-sham,As steward I'm now employed—ha! ha!The dickens may take him—I'll never forsake him!As steward I'm now employed—ha! ha!ADDITIONAL SONG(Omitted after opening night.)ROB. My face is the index to my mind,All venom and spleen and gall—ha! ha!Or, properly speaking,It soon will be reeking,With venom and spleen and gall—ha! ha!ADAM. My name from Adam Goodheart you'll findI've changed to Gideon Crawle—ha! ha!For bad Bart's stewardWhose heart is much too hardIs always Gideon Crawle—ha! ha!BOTH. How dreadful when an innocent heartBecomes, perforce, a bad young Bart.,And still more hard on old Adam,His former faithful valley-de-sham!ROB. This is a painful state of things, old Adam!ADAM. Painful, indeed! Ah, my poor master, when I sworethat, come what would, I would serve you in all things for ever,I little thought to what a pass it would bring me! Theconfidential adviser to the greatest villain unhung! Now, sir,to business. What crime do you propose to commit to-day?ROB. How should I know? As my confidential adviser, it'syour duty to suggest something.ADAM. Sir, I loathe the life you are leading, but a goodold man's oath is paramount, and I obey. Richard Dauntless ishere with pretty Rose Maybud, to ask your consent to theirmarriage. Poison their beer.ROB. No—not that—I know I'm a bad Bart., but I'm not asbad a Bart. as all that.ADAM. Well, there you are, you see! It's no use my makingsuggestions if you don't adopt them.ROB. (melodramatically). How would it be, do you think,were I to lure him here with cunning wile—bind him with goodstout rope to yonder post—and then, by making hideous faces athim, curdle the heart-blood in his arteries, and freeze the verymarrow in his bones? How say you, Adam, is not the scheme wellplanned?ADAM. It would be simply rude—nothing more. Butsoft—they come!(Adam and Robin retire up as Richard and Rose enter, preceded byChorus of Bridesmaids.)DUET—RICHARD and ROSE.RICH. Happily coupled are we,You see—I am a jolly Jack Tar,My star,And you are the fairest,The richest and rarestOf innocent lasses you are,By far—Of innocent lasses you are!Fanned by a favouring gale,You'll sailOver life's treacherous seaWith me,And as for bad weather,We'll brave it together,And you shall creep under my lee,My wee!And you shall creep under my lee!For you are such a smart little craft—Such a neat little, sweet little craft,Such a bright little, tight little,Slight little, light little,Trim little, prim little craft!CHORUS. For she is such, etc.ROSE. My hopes will be blighted, I fear,My dear;In a month you'll be going to sea,Quite free,And all of my wishesYou'll throw to the fishesAs though they were never to be;Poor me!As though they were never to be.And I shall be left all aloneTo moan,And weep at your cruel deceit,Complete;While you'll be assertingYour freedom by flirtingWith every woman you meet,You cheat—Ah!With every woman you meet! Ah!Though I am such a smart little craft—Such a neat little, sweet little craft,Such a bright little, tight little,Slight little, light little,Trim little, prim little craft!CHORUS. Though she is such, etc.(Enter Robin.)ROB. Soho! pretty one—in my power at last, eh? Know yenot that I have those within my call who, at my lightest bidding,would immure ye in an uncomfortable dungeon? (Calling.) Whatho! within there!RICH. Hold—we are prepared for this (producing a UnionJack). Here is a flag that none dare defy (all kneel), and whilethis glorious rag floats over Rose Maybud's head, the man doesnot live who would dare to lay unlicensed hand upon her!ROB. Foiled—and by a Union Jack! But a time will come,and then—-ROSE. Nay, let me plead with him. (To Robin.) Sir Ruthven,have pity. In my book of etiquette the case of a maiden about tobe wedded to one who unexpectedly turns out to be a baronet witha curse on him is not considered. Time was when you loved memadly. Prove that this was no selfish love by according yourconsent to my marriage with one who, if he be not you yourself,is the next best thing—your dearest friend!BALLAD—ROSE.In bygone days I had thy love—Thou hadst my heart.But Fate, all human vows above,Our lives did part!By the old love thou hadst for me—By the fond heart that beat for thee—By joys that never now can be,Grant thou my prayer!ALL (kneeling). Grant thou her prayer!ROB. (recitative). Take her—I yield!ALL. (recitative). Oh, rapture! (All rising.)CHORUS. Away to the parson we go—Say we're solicitous veryThat he will turn two into one—Singing hey, derry down derry!RICH. For she is such a smart little craft-ROSE. Such a neat little, sweet little craft—RICH. Such a bright little-ROSE. Tight little-RICH. Slight little-ROSE. Light little-BOTH. Trim little, prim little craft!CHORUS. For she is such a smart little craft, etc.(Exeunt all but Robin.)ROB. For a week I have fulfilled my accursed doom! I haveduly committed a crime a day! Not a great crime, I trust, butstill, in the eyes of one as strictly regulated as I used to be,a crime. But will my ghostly ancestors be satisfied with what Ihave done, or will they regard it as an unworthy subterfuge?(Addressing Pictures.) Oh, my forefathers, wallowers in blood,there came at last a day when, sick of crime, you, each andevery, vowed to sin no more, and so, in agony, called welcomeDeath to free you from your cloying guiltiness. Let the sweetpsalm of that repentant hour soften your long-dead hearts, andtune your souls to mercy on your poor posterity! (Kneeling).(The stage darkens for a moment. It becomes light again, and thePictures are seen to have become animated.)CHORUS OF FAMILY PORTRAITS.Painted emblems of a race,All accurst in days of yore,Each from his accustomed placeSteps into the world once more.(The Pictures step from their frames and march round the stage.)Baronet of Ruddigore,Last of our accursed line,Down upon the oaken floor—Down upon those knees of thine.Coward, poltroon, shaker, squeamer,Blockhead, sluggard, dullard, dreamer,Shirker, shuffler, crawler, creeper,Sniffler, snuffler, wailer, weeper,Earthworm, maggot, tadpole, weevil!Set upon thy course of evil,Lest the King of Spectre-landSet on thee his grisly hand!(The Spectre of Sir Roderic descends from his frame.)SIR ROD. Beware! beware! beware!ROB. Gaunt vision, who art thouThat thus, with icy glareAnd stern relentless brow,Appearest, who knows how?SIR ROD. I am the spectre of the lateSir Roderic Murgatroyd,Who comes to warn thee that thy fateThou canst not now avoid.ROB. Alas, poor ghost!SIR ROD. The pity youExpress for nothing goes:We spectres are a jollier crewThan you, perhaps, suppose!CHORUS. We spectres are a jollier crewThan you, perhaps, suppose!SONG—SIR RODERIC.When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat inthe moonlight flies,And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnightskies—When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogsbay at the moon,Then is the spectres' holiday—then is the ghosts' high-noon!CHORUS. Ha! ha!Then is the ghosts' high-noon!As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lielow on the fen,From grey tomb-stones are gathered the bones that once were womenand men,And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that endstoo soon,For cockcrow limits our holiday—the dead of the night'shigh-noon!CHORUS. Ha! ha!The dead of the night's high-noon!And then each ghost with his ladye-toast to their churchyard bedstakes flight,With a kiss, perhaps, on her lantern chaps, and a grisly grim"good-night";Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth itsjolliest tune,And ushers in our next high holiday—the dead of the night'shigh-noon!CHORUS. Ha! ha!The dead of the night's high-noon!Ha! ha! ha! ha!ROB. I recognize you now—you are the picture that hangs atthe end of the gallery.SIR ROD. In a bad light. I am.ROB. Are you considered a good likeness?SIR ROD. Pretty well. Flattering.ROB. Because as a work of art you are poor.SIR ROD. I am crude in colour, but I have only been paintedten years. In a couple of centuries I shall be an Old Master,and then you will be sorry you spoke lightly of me.ROB. And may I ask why you have left your frames?SIR ROD. It is our duty to see that our successors committheir daily crimes in a conscientious and workmanlike fashion.It is our duty to remind you that you are evading the conditionsunder which you are permitted to exist.ROB. Really, I don't know what you'd have. I've only beena bad baronet a week, and I've committed a crime punctually everyday.SIR ROD. Let us inquire into this. Monday?ROB. Monday was a Bank Holiday.SIR ROD. True. Tuesday?ROB. On Tuesday I made a false income-tax return.ALL. Ha! ha!1ST GHOST. That's nothing.2ND GHOST. Nothing at all.3RD GHOST. Everybody does that.4TH GHOST. It's expected of you.SIR ROD. Wednesday?ROB. (melodramatically). On Wednesday I forged a will.SIR ROD. Whose will?ROB. My own.SIR ROD. My good sir, you can't forge your own will!ROB. Can't I, though! I like that! I did! Besides, if aman can't forge his own will, whose will can he forge?1ST GHOST. There's something in that.2ND GHOST. Yes, it seems reasonable.3RD GHOST. At first sight it does.4TH GHOST. Fallacy somewhere, I fancy!ROB. A man can do what he likes with his own!SIR ROD. I suppose he can.ROB. Well, then, he can forge his own will, stoopid! OnThursday I shot a fox.1ST GHOST. Hear, hear!SIR ROD. That's better (addressing Ghosts). Pass the fox,I think? (They assent.) Yes, pass the fox. Friday?ROB. On Friday I forged a cheque.SIR ROD. Whose cheque?ROB. Old Adam's.SIR ROD. But Old Adam hasn't a banker.ROB. I didn't say I forged his banker—I said I forged hischeque. On Saturday I disinherited my only son.SIR ROD. But you haven't got a son.ROB. No—not yet. I disinherited him in advance, to savetime. You see—by this arrangement—he'll be born readydisinherited.SIR ROD. I see. But I don't think you can do that.ROB. My good sir, if I can't disinherit my own unborn son,whose unborn son can I disinherit?SIR ROD. Humph! These arguments sound very well, but Ican't help thinking that, if they were reduced to syllogisticform, they wouldn't hold water. Now quite understand us. We arefoggy, but we don't permit our fogginess to be presumed upon.Unless you undertake to—well, suppose we say, carry off a lady?(Addressing Ghosts.) Those who are in favour of his carrying offa lady? (All hold up their hands except a Bishop.) Those of thecontrary opinion? (Bishop holds up his hands.) Oh, you're neversatisfied! Yes, unless you undertake to carry off a lady atonce—I don't care what lady—any lady—choose your lady—youperish in inconceivable agonies.ROB. Carry off a lady? Certainly not, on any account.I've the greatest respect for ladies, and I wouldn't do anythingof the kind for worlds! No, no. I'm not that kind of baronet, Iassure you! If that's all you've got to say, you'd better goback to your frames.SIR ROD. Very good—then let the agonies commence.(Ghosts make passes. Robin begins to writhe in agony.)ROB. Oh! Oh! Don't do that! I can't stand it!SIR ROD. Painful, isn't it? It gets worse by degrees.ROB. Oh—Oh! Stop a bit! Stop it, will you? I want tospeak.(Sir Roderic makes signs to Ghosts, who resume their attitudes.)SIR ROD. Better?ROB. Yes—better now! Whew!SIR ROD. Well, do you consent?ROB. But it's such an ungentlemanly thing to do!SIR ROD. As you please. (To Ghosts.) Carry on!ROB. Stop—I can't stand it! I agree! I promise! Itshall be done!SIR ROD. To-day?ROB. To-day!SIR ROD. At once?ROB. At once! I retract! I apologize! I had no idea itwas anything like that!CHORUS.He yields! He answers to our call!We do not ask for more.A sturdy fellow, after all,This latest Ruddigore!All perish in unheard-of woeWho dare our wills defy;We want your pardon, ere we go,For having agonized you so—So pardon us—So pardon us—So pardon us—Or die!ROB. I pardon you!I pardon you!ALL. He pardons us-Hurrah!(The Ghosts return to their frames.)CHORUS. Painted emblems of a race,All accurst in days of yore,Each to his accustomed placeSteps unwillingly once more!(By this time the Ghosts have changed to pictures again. Robinis overcome by emotion.)(Enter Adam.)ADAM. My poor master, you are not well—ROB. Old Adam, it won't do—I've seen 'em—all myancestors—they're just gone. They say that I must do somethingdesperate at once, or perish in horrible agonies. Go—go toyonder village—carry off a maiden—bring her here at once—anyone—I don't care which—ADAM. But—ROB. Not a word, but obey! Fly!(Exeunt Adam)RECIT. and SONG—ROBIN.Away, Remorse!Compunction, hence!.Go, Moral Force!Go, Penitence!To Virtue's pleaA long farewell—Propriety,I ring your knell!Come, guiltiness of deadliest hue!Come, desperate deeds of derring-do!Henceforth all the crimes that I find in the Times.I've promised to perpetrate daily;To-morrow I start with a petrified heart,On a regular course of Old Bailey.There's confidence tricking, bad coin, pocket-picking,And several other disgraces—There's postage-stamp prigging, and then thimble-rigging,The three-card delusion at races!Oh! A baronet's rank is exceedingly nice,But the title's uncommonly dear at the price!Ye well-to-do squires, who live in the shires,Where petty distinctions are vital,Who found Athenaeums and local museums,With a view to a baronet's title—Ye butchers and bakers and candlestick makersWho sneer at all things that are tradey—Whose middle-class lives are embarrassed by wivesWho long to parade as "My Lady",Oh! allow me to offer a word of advice,The title's uncommonly dear at the price!Ye supple M.P.'s who go down on your knees,Your precious identity sinking,And vote black or white as your leaders indite(Which saves you the trouble of thinking),For your country's good fame, her repute, or her shame,You don't care the snuff of a candle—But you're paid for your game when you're told that your nameWill be graced by a baronet's handle—Oh! Allow me to give you a word of advice—The title's uncommonly dear at the price!(Exit Robin.)(Enter Despard and Margaret. They are both dressed in sober blackof formal cut, and present a strong contrast to theirappearance in Act I.)DUET.DES. I once was a very abandoned person—MAR. Making the most of evil chances.DES. Nobody could conceive a worse 'un—MAR. Even in all the old romances.DES. I blush for my wild extravagances,But be so kindTo bear in mind,MAR. We were the victims of circumstances!(Dance.)That is one of our blameless dances.MAR. I was once an exceedingly odd young lady—DES. Suffering much from spleen and vapours.MAR. Clergymen thought my conduct shady—DES. She didn't spend much upon linen-drapers.MAR. It certainly entertained the gapers.My ways were strangeBeyond all range—DES. Paragraphs got into all the papers.(Dance.)DES. We only cut respectable capers.DES. I've given up all my wild proceedings.MAR. My taste for a wandering life is waning.DES. Now I'm a dab at penny readings.MAR. They are not remarkably entertaining.DES. A moderate livelihood we're gaining.MAR. In fact we ruleA National School.DES. The duties are dull, but I'm not complaining.(Dance.)This sort of thing takes a deal of training!DES. We have been married a week.MAR. One happy, happy week!DES. Our new life—MAR. Is delightful indeed!DES. So calm!MAR. So unimpassioned! (Wildly). Master, all this I oweto you! See, I am no longer wild and untidy. My hair is combed.My face is washed. My boots fit!DES. Margaret, don't. Pray restrain yourself. Remember,you are now a district visitor.MAR. A gentle district visitor!DES. You are orderly, methodical, neat; you have youremotions well under control.MAR. I have! (Wildly). Master, when I think of all youhave done for me, I fall at your feet. I embrace your ankles. Ihug your knees! (Doing so.)DES. Hush. This is not well. This is calculated toprovoke remark. Be composed, I beg!MAR. Ah! you are angry with poor little Mad Margaret!DES. No, not angry; but a district visitor should learn toeschew melodrama. Visit the poor, by all means, and give themtea and barley-water, but don't do it as if you wereadministering a bowl of deadly nightshade. It upsets them. Thenwhen you nurse sick people, and find them not as well as could beexpected, why go into hysterics?MAR. Why not?DES. Because it's too jumpy for a sick-room.MAR. How strange! Oh, Master! Master!—how shall I expressthe all-absorbing gratitude that—(about to throw herself at hisfeet).DES. Now! (Warningly).MAR. Yes, I know, dear—it shan't occur again. (He isseated—she sits on the ground by him.) Shall I tell you one ofpoor Mad Margaret's odd thoughts? Well, then, when I am lyingawake at night, and the pale moonlight streams through thelatticed casement, strange fancies crowd upon my poor mad brain,and I sometimes think that if we could hit upon some word for youto use whenever I am about to relapse—some word that teems withhidden meaning—like "Basingstoke"—it might recall me to mysaner self. For, after all, I am only Mad Margaret! Daft Meg!Poor Meg! He! he! he!DES. Poor child, she wanders! But soft—some onecomes—Margaret—pray recollect yourself—Basingstoke, I beg!Margaret, if you don't Basingstoke at once, I shall be seriouslyangry.MAR. (recovering herself). Basingstoke it is!DES. Then make it so.(Enter Robin. He starts on seeing them.)ROB. Despard! And his young wife! This visit isunexpected.MAR. Shall I fly at him? Shall I tear him limb from limb?Shall I rend him asunder? Say but the word and—DES. Basingstoke!MAR. (suddenly demure). Basingstoke it is!DES. (aside). Then make it so. (Aloud.) My brother—Icall you brother still, despite your horrible profligacy—we havecome to urge you to abandon the evil courses to which you havecommitted yourself, and at any cost to become a pure andblameless ratepayer.ROB. But I've done no wrong yet.MAR. (wildly). No wrong! He has done no wrong! Did youhear that!DES. Basingstoke!MAR. (recovering herself). Basingstoke it is!DES. My brother—I still call you brother, you observe—youforget that you have been, in the eye of the law, a Bad Baronetof Ruddigore for ten years—and you are therefore responsible—inthe eye of the law—for all the misdeeds committed by the unhappygentleman who occupied your place.ROB. I see! Bless my heart, I never thought of that! WasI very bad?DES. Awful. Wasn't he? (To Margaret).ROB. And I've been going on like this for how long?DES. Ten years! Think of all the atrocities you havecommitted—by attorney as it were—during that period. Rememberhow you trifled with this poor child's affections—how you raisedher hopes on high (don't cry, my love—Basingstoke, you know),only to trample them in the dust when they were at the veryzenith of their fullness. Oh fie, sir, fie—she trusted you!ROB. Did she? What a scoundrel I must have been! There,there—don't cry, my dear (to Margaret, who is sobbing on Robin'sbreast), it's all right now. Birmingham, you know—Birmingham—MAR. (sobbing). It's Ba—Ba—Basingstoke!ROB. Basingstoke! Of course it is—Basingstoke.MAR. Then make it so!ROB. There, there—it's all right—he's married younow—that is, I've married you (turning to Despard)—I say, whichof us has married her?DES. Oh, I've married her.ROB. (aside). Oh, I'm glad of that. (To Margaret.) Yes,he's married you now (passing her over to Despard), and anythingmore disreputable than my conduct seems to have been I've nevereven heard of. But my mind is made up—I will defy my ancestors.I will refuse to obey their behests, thus, by courting death,atone in some degree for the infamy of my career!MAR. I knew it—I knew it—God blessyou—(Hysterically).DES. Basingstoke!MAR. Basingstoke it is! (Recovers herself.)PATTER-TRIO.ROBIN, DESPARD, and MARGARET.ROB. My eyes are fully open to my awful situation—I shall go at once to Roderic and make him an oration.I shall tell him I've recovered my forgotten moral senses,And I don't care twopence-halfpenny for any consequences.Now I do not want to perish by the sword or by the dagger,But a martyr may indulge a little pardonable swagger,And a word or two of compliment my vanity would flatter,But I've got to die tomorrow, so it really doesn't matter!DES. So it really doesn't matter—MAR. So it really doesn't matter—ALL. So it really doesn't matter, matter, matter, matter, matter!MAR. If were not a little mad and generally sillyI should give you my advice upon the subject, willy-nilly;I should show you in a moment how to grapple with thequestion,And you'd really be astonished at the force of mysuggestion.On the subject I shall write you a most valuable letter,Full of excellent suggestions when I feel a little better,But at present I'm afraid I am as mad as any hatter,So I'll keep 'em to myself, for my opinion doesn't matter!DES. Her opinion doesn't matter—ROB. Her opinion doesn't matter—ALL. Her opinion doesn't matter, matter, matter, matter,matter!DES. If I had been so lucky as to have a steady brotherWho could talk to me as we are talking now to one another—Who could give me good advice when he discovered I waserring(Which is just the very favour which on you I amconferring),My story would have made a rather interesting idyll,And I might have lived and died a very decent indiwiddle.This particularly rapid, unintelligible patterIsn't generally heard, and if it is it doesn't matter!ROB. If it is it doesn't matter—MAR. If it is it doesn't matter—ALL. If it is it doesn't matter, matter, matter, matter,matter!(Exeunt Despard and Margaret.)(Enter Adam.)ADAM (guiltily). Master—the deed is done!ROB. What deed?ADAM. She is here—alone, unprotected—ROB. Who?ADAM. The maiden. I've carried her off—I had a hard task,for she fought like a tiger-cat!ROB. Great heaven, I had forgotten her! I had hoped tohave died unspotted by crime, but I am foiled again—and by atiger-cat! Produce her—and leave us!(Adam introduces Dame Hannah, very much excited, and exits.)ROB. Dame Hannah! This is—this is not what I expected.HAN. Well, sir, and what would you with me? Oh, you havebegun bravely—bravely indeed! Unappalled by the calm dignity ofblameless womanhood, your minion has torn me from my spotlesshome, and dragged me, blindfold and shrieking, through hedges,over stiles, and across a very difficult country, and left me,helpless and trembling, at your mercy! Yet not helpless, cowardsir, for approach one step—nay, but the twentieth part of onepoor inch—and this poniard (produces a very small dagger) shallteach ye what it is to lay unholy hands on old Stephen Trusty'sdaughter!ROB. Madam, I am extremely sorry for this. It is not atall what I intended—anything more correct—more deeplyrespectful than my intentions towards you, it would be impossiblefor any one—however particular—to desire.HAN. Bah, I am not to be tricked by smooth words,hypocrite! But be warned in time, for there are, without, ahundred gallant hearts whose trusty blades would hack him limbfrom limb who dared to lay unholy hands on old Stephen Trusty'sdaughter!ROB. And this is what it is to embark upon a career ofunlicensed pleasure!(Dame Hannah, who has taken a formidable dagger from one of thearmed figures, throws her small dagger to Robin.)HAN. Harkye, miscreant, you have secured me, and I am yourpoor prisoner; but if you think I cannot take care of myself youare very much mistaken. Now then, it's one to one, and let thebest man win!(Making for him.)ROB. (in an agony of terror). Don't! don't look at me likethat! I can't bear it! Roderic! Uncle! Save me!(Sir Roderic enters, from his picture. He comes down the stage.)ROD. What is the matter? Have you carried her off?ROB. I have—she is there—look at her—she terrifies me!ROD. (looking at Hannah). Little Nannikin!HAN. (amazed). Roddy-doddy!ROD. My own old love! Why, how came you here?HAN. This brute—he carried me off! Bodily! But I'll showhim! (about to rush at Robin).ROD. Stop! (To Rob.) What do you mean by carrying offthis lady? Are you aware that once upon a time she was engagedto be married to me? I'm very angry—very angry indeed.ROB. Now I hope this will be a lesson to you in future notto—ROD. Hold your tongue, sir.ROB. Yes, uncle.ROD. Have you given him any encouragement?HAN. (to Rob.). Have I given you any encouragement?Frankly now, have I?ROB. No. Frankly, you have not. Anything morescrupulously correct than your conduct, it would be impossible todesire.ROD. You go away.ROB. Yes, uncle. (Exit Robin.)ROD. This is a strange meeting after so many years!HAN. Very. I thought you were dead.ROD. I am. I died ten years ago.HAN. And are you pretty comfortable?ROD. Pretty well—that is—yes, pretty well.HAN. You don't deserve to be, for I loved you all thewhile, dear; and it made me dreadfully unhappy to hear of allyour goings-on, you bad, bad boy!BALLAD—DAME HANNAH.There grew a little flower'Neath a great oak tree:When the tempest 'gan to lowerLittle heeded she:No need had she to cower,For she dreaded not its power—She was happy in the bowerOf her great oak tree!Sing hey,Lackaday!Let the tears fall freeFor the pretty little flowerAnd the great oak tree!BOTH. Sing hey,Lackaday! etc.When she found that he was fickle,Was that great oak tree,She was in a pretty pickle,As she well might be—But his gallantries were mickle,For Death followed with his sickle,And her tears began to trickleFor her great oak tree!Sing hey,Lackaday! etc.BOTH. Sing hey,Lackaday! etc.Said she, "He loved me never,Did that great oak tree,But I'm neither rich nor clever,And so why should he?But though fate our fortunes sever,To be constant I'll endeavour,Aye, for ever and for ever,To my great oak tree!'Sing hey,Lackaday! etc.BOTH. Sing hey,Lackaday! etc.(Falls weeping on Sir Roderic's bosom.)(Enter Robin, excitedly, followed by all the characters and Chorusof Bridesmaids.)ROB. Stop a bit—both of you.ROD. This intrusion is unmannerly.HAN. I'm surprised at you.ROB. I can't stop to apologize—an idea has just occurredto me. A Baronet of Ruddigore can only die through refusing tocommit his daily crime.ROD. No doubt.ROB. Therefore, to refuse to commit a daily crime istantamount to suicide!ROD. It would seem so.ROB. But suicide is, itself, a crime—and so, by your ownshowing, you ought never to have died at all!ROD. I see—I understand! Then I'm practically alive!ROB. Undoubtedly! (Sir Roderic embraces Dame Hannah.) Rose,when you believed that I was a simple farmer, I believe you lovedme?ROSE. Madly, passionately!ROB. But when I became a bad baronet, you very properlyloved Richard instead?ROSE. Passionately, madly!ROB. But if I should turn out not to be a bad baronet afterall, how would you love me then?ROSE. Madly, passionately!ROB. As before?ROSE. Why, of course.ROB. My darling! (They embrace.)RICH. Here, I say, belay!ROSE. Oh, sir, belay, if it's absolutely necessary!ROB. Belay? Certainly not!FINALEROB. Having been a wicked baronet a weekOnce again a modest livelihood I seek.Agricultural employmentIs to me a keen enjoyment,For I'm naturally diffident and meek!ROSE. When a man has been a naughty baronet,And expresses deep repentance and regret,You should help him, if you're able,Like the mousie in the fable,That's the teaching of my Book of Etiquette.CHORUS. That's the teaching in her Book of Etiquette.RICH. If you ask me why I do not pipe my eye,Like an honest British sailor, I reply,That with Zorah for my missis,There'll be bread and cheese and kisses,Which is just the sort of ration I enjye!CHORUS. Which is just the sort of ration you enjye!DES. and MAR. Prompted by a keen desire to evokeAll the blessed calm of matrimony's yoke,We shall toddle off tomorrow,From this scene of sin and sorrow,For to settle in the town of Basingstoke!ALL. For happy the lilyThat's kissed by the bee;And, sipping tranquilly,Quite happy is he;And happy the fillyThat neighs in her pride;But happier than any,A pound to a penny,A lover is, when heEmbraces his bride!CURTAIN
Libretto by William S. GilbertMusic by Sir Arthur Sullivan
DRAMATIS PERSONAESir Marmaduke Pointdextre, an Elderly BaronetAlexis, of the Grenadier Guards—His SonDr. Daly, Vicar of PloverleighJohn Wellington Wells, of J. W. Wells & Co., Family SorcerersLady Sangazure, a Lady of Ancient LineageAline, Her Daughter—betrothed to AlexisMrs. Partlet, a Pew-OpenerConstance, her DaughterChorus of VillagersACT I—Grounds of Sir Marmaduke's Mansion, Mid-day(Twelve hours are supposed to elapse between Acts I and II)ACT II— Grounds of Sir Marmaduke's Mansion, Midnight
SCENE—Exterior of Sir Marmaduke's Elizabethan Mansion, mid-day.CHORUS OF VILLAGERSRing 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 herAt the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!Ring forth, ye bells etc.(Exeunt the meninto house.)(Enter Mrs. Partlet with Constance, her daughter)RECITATIVEMRS. 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 should 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. Partlet motions to Chorus to leave her with Constance. Exeuntladies of Chorus.ARIA—CONSTANCEWhen 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!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?CONST. Hush, mother! He is here! (Looking off)Enter Dr. Daly. He is pensive and does not see themMRS. P. (amazed) Our reverend vicar!CONST. 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!CONST. But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!MRS. P. That's true, indeed!CONST. 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.(Theywithdraw.)RECITATIVE—DR. DALYThe 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?BALLADTime 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 them!(At the conclusion of the ballad, Mrs. Partlet comes forward withConstance.)MRS. P. Good day, reverend sir.DR. D. Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. Andyour little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a littlewoman, I declare!CONST. (aside) Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!MRS. P. Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and asgood a girl as ever stepped. (Aside to Dr. Daly) Ah, sir, I'mafraid I shall soon lose her!DR. D. (aside to Mrs. Partlet) Dear me, you pain me verymuch. Is she delicate?MRS. P. Oh no, sir—I don't mean that—but young girls lookto get married.DR. D. Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there's plenty oftime for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four orfive years hence. But when the time does come, I shall have muchpleasure in marrying her myself—CONST. (aside) Oh, mother!DR. D. To some strapping young fellow in her own rank oflife.CONST. (in tears) He does not love me!MRS. P. I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you'llexcuse the liberty), that you have 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 as young as you were, and before verylong you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after yourlittle 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 mydeclining days. Time was when it might have been; but I haveleft it too long—I am an old fogy, now, am I not, my dear? (toConstance)—a very old fogy, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet,my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary oldbachelor.CONST. Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs on Mrs. Partlet's bosom)MRS. P. Come, come, dear one, don't fret. At a morefitting time we will try again—we will try again.(Exeunt Mrs. Partlet andConstance.)DR. D. (looking after them) Poor little girl! I'm afraidshe has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time waswhen this old heart would have throbbed in double-time at thesight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here comesthe young Alexis with his proud and happy father. Let me drythis tell-tale tear!Enter Sir Marmaduke and AlexisRECITATIVEDR. 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. DalyMy dear old tutor, and my valued pastor,I thank you from the bottom of my heart!(Spokenthrough 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 meantime,Into a new and glorious horizon!SIR M. Dear Sir, that is an excellent exampleOf an old school of stately complimentTo 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. (to Alexis, who is in a reverie) Come, come, myson—your fiancee will be here in five minutes. Rouse yourselfto receive her.ALEXIS Oh rapture!SIR M. Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I willnot disguise from you that this union with the House of Sangazurerealizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of asufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand andthirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, therewas a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair withParis—but where is the family, other than my own, in which thereis no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow!ALEXIS Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! Nosicklying 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 younglady you do not speak so openly. You are always singing balladsin praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who waitbehind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate.ALEXIS Father, a man who loves as I love—SIR M. Pooh pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved yourfuture mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason tobelieve that she returned my love. But were we guilty of theindelicacy of publicly rushing into each other's arms,exclaiming—"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—Alineapproaches—let us retire, that she may compose herself for theinteresting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part.(Exeunt Sir Marmaduke andAlexis.)(Enter Aline on terrace, preceded by Chorus of Girls.)CHORUS OF GIRLSWith 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 me unbounded!With a halo of joyMay their lives be surrounded!Heaven bless our Aline!RECITATIVE—ALINE.My kindly friends, I thank you for this greetingAnd as you wish me every earthly joy,I trust your wishes may have quick fulfillment!ARIA—ALINE.Oh, happy young heart!Comes thy young lord a-wooingWith 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 mar,When love has tiedThe knot there's no undoing.Then, never to part,Young heart!Then, never to part!Enter Lady SangazureRECITATIVE—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!Enter Alexis, preceded by Chorus of MenCHORUS OF MEN AND WOMENWith heart and with voiceLet us welcome this mating;To the maid of his choice,With a heart palpitating,Comes Alexis, the brave!.(Sir Marmaduke enters. Lady Sangazure and he exhibit signs ofstrongemotion at the sight of each other which they endeavor torepress. Alexis and Aline rush into each other's arms.)RECITATIVEALEXIS Oh, my adored one!ALINE Beloved boy!ALEXIS Ecstatic rapture!ALINE Unmingled joy!(Theyretire up.)DUET—SIR MARMADUKE and LADY SANGAZURESIR 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 service 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 apostophe 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 grateful courtesee;Compliment more true and 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 and 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 apostophe 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 the Notary has entered, with marriage contract.)RECITATIVE—NOTARYAll 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!(Alexis and Aline advance and sign, Alexis supported by SirMarmaduke,Aline by her Mother.)CHORUSSee 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!.ALINE. I deliver it—I deliver it.As my Act and Deed!CHO. 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 but Alexisand Aline.)ALEXIS At last we are alone! My darling, you are nowirrevocably betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy?ALINE Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love youbeyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not truelove, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source ofevery earthly joy?ALEXIS Of that there can be no doubt. Oh, that the worldcould be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh, that theworld would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth,education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognizethe glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found thepanacea for every ill!ALINE Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you willsucceed, oh, evangel of true happiness!ALEXIS I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses butslowly. Still I have made some converts to the principle, thatmen and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinctionof rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics'Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of myviews. I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and LunaticAsylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm. I haveaddressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them ifthey married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented!ALINE Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold thatthe uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what do thecountesses say?ALEXIS Why, at present, it can't be denied, the aristocracyhold aloof.ALINE Ah, the working man is the true Intelligence afterall!ALEXIS He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes,Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should beindependent of external influences. It should live upon itselfand by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!BALLAD—ALEXISLove feeds on many kinds of food, I know,Some love for rank, some for duty:Some give their hearts away for empty show,And others 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!ALINE Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!ALEXIS Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate stepin support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W.Wells & Co., the old-established Family Sorcerers in St. MaryAxe?ALINE I have seen their advertisement.ALEXIS They have invented a philtre, which, if report maybe believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute itthrough the village, and within half an hour of my doing so therewill not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt thesecret of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that?ALINE Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thingin a house; but still I don't quite see that it is the sort ofthing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthlyjoy.ALEXIS Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn't say afilter—I said a philtre.ALINE (alarmed) You don't mean a love-potion?ALEXIS On the contrary—I do mean a love potion.ALINE Oh, Alexis! I don't think it would be right. Idon't indeed. And then—a real magician! Oh, it would bedownright wicked.ALEXIS Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object tosteep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couplethem in matrimony without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?ALINE Unquestionably, but—ALEXIS Then unpleasant as it must be to have recourse tosupernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, indeference to the great and good end I have in view. (Calling)Hercules.(Enter a Page from tent)PAGE Yes, sir.ALEXIS Is Mr. Wells there?PAGE He's in the tent, sir—refreshing.ALEXIS Ask him to be so good as to step this way.PAGE Yes, sir.(Exit Page)ALINE Oh, but, Alexis! A real Sorcerer! Oh, I shall befrightened to death!ALEXIS I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while thestrong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.ALINE It's nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting mewith your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this FamilySorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turnround.ALEXIS He could change you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, butit is most unlikely that he would take such a liberty. It's amost respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty ofso untradesmanlike an act.(Enter Mr. Wells from tent)WELLS Good day, sir. (Aline much terrified.)ALEXIS Good day—I believe you are a Sorcerer.WELLS Yes, sir, we practice 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 nativityat a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three-and-six that wecan guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent Hagwho comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, arestrongly recommended. Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and ourProphetic Tablets, foretelling everything—from a change ofMinistry down to a rise in Unified—are much enquired for. Ourpenny Curse—one of the cheapest things in the trade—isconsidered infallible. We have some very superior Blessings,too, but they're very little asked for. We've only sold onesince Christmas—to a gentleman who bought it to send to hismother-in-law—but it turned out that he was afflicted in thehead, and it's been returned on our hands. But our sale of pennyCurses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can'tturn 'em out fast enough.SONG—MR. WELLSOh! my name is John Wellington Wells,I'm a dealer in magic and spells,In blessings and cursesAnd 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 the 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 prophet, a prophetWho brings us unbounded returns:For 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;With 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.And then, if you plan it, heChanges organity,With an urbanity,Full 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 cursesAnd 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!ALEXIS I have sent for you to consult you on a veryimportant matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-HydrogenLove-at-first-sight Philtre?WELLS Sir, it is our leading article. (Producing a phial.)ALEXIS Now I want to know if you can confidently guaranteeit as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in youradvertisement?WELLS 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 fullyrealized. (Hurt)ALINE (aside) Oh, Alexis, don't offend him! He'll changeus into something dreadful—I know he will!ALEXIS I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives todistribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of thisvillage. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you sellit?WELLS In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly adviseyour taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen towant it. We have it in four-and-a-half and nine galloncasks—also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct10 per cent from prompt cash.ALEXIS I should mention that I am a Member of the Army andNavy Stores.WELLS In that case we deduct 25 percent.ALEXIS Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in afew minutes. Go and fetch the tea-pot.ALINE But, Alexis—ALEXIS My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go andfetch the teapot.ALINE (going) I'm sure Dr. Daly would disapprove of it!(Exit Aline.)ALEXIS And how soon does it take effect?WELLS In twelve hours. Whoever drinks of it losesconsciousness for that period, and on waking falls in love, as amatter of course, with the first lady he meets who has alsotasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial willprove the fact.Enter Aline with large tea-potALEXIS Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if youwill at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as willsuffice to affect the whole village.ALINE But bless me, Alexis, many of the villages aremarried people!WELLS Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictestprinciples. On married people it has no effect whatever. Butare you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry youthrough the fearful ordeal?ALEXIS In the good cause I fear nothing.WELLS Very good, then, we will proceed at once to theIncantation.The stage grows dark.INCANTATIONWELLS. Sprites of earth and air—Fiends of flame and fire—Demon souls,Come here in shoals,This dreaded deed inspire!Appear, appear, appear.MALE VOICES. Good master, we are here!WELLS. 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!ALEXIS. (aside) Hark, they assemble,These fiends of the night!ALINE. (aside) Oh Alexis, I tremble,Seek safety in flight!