Scene — Throne Room in the Palace. Night. Fitzbattleaxediscovered,singing to Zara.RECITATIVE — Fitzbattleaxe.Oh, Zara, my beloved one, bear with me!Ah, do not laugh at my attempted C!Repent not, mocking maid, thy girlhood's choice—The fervour of my love affects my voice!SONG — Fitzbattleaxe.A tenor, all singers above(This doesn't admit of a question),Should keep himself quiet,Attend to his dietAnd carefully nurse his digestion;But when he is madly in loveIt's certain to tell on his singing—You can't do the proper chromaticsWith proper emphaticsWhen anguish your bosom is wringing!When distracted with worries in plenty,And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,A tenor can't do himself justice,Now observe—(sings a high note),You see, I can't do myself justice!I could sing if my fervour were mock,It's easy enough if you're acting—But when one's emotionIs born of devotionYou mustn't be over-exacting.One ought to be firm as a rockTo venture a shake in vibrato,When fervour's expectedKeep cool and collectedOr never attempt agitato.But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,And his lips appear pasted together,And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,A tenor can't do himself justice.Now observe—(sings a high note),It's no use—I can't do myself justice!Zara: Why, Arthur, what does it matter? When the higherqualities of the heart are all that can be desired, the highernotes of the voice are matters of comparative insignificance. Whothinks slightingly of the cocoanut because it is husky? Be-sides(demurely), you are not singing for an engagement (putting herhand in his), you have that already!Fitz.: How good and wise you are! How unerringly yourpracticed brain winnows the wheat from the chaff—thematerial from the merely incidental!Zara: My Girton training, Arthur. At Girton all is wheat, andidle chaff is never heard within its walls! But tell me, is notall working marvelously well? Have not our Flowers of Progressmore than justified their name?Fitz.: We have indeed done our best. Captain Corcoran and Ihave, in concert, thoroughly remodeled the sister-services—and upon so sound a basis that the South Pacifictrembles at the name of Utopia!Zara: How clever of you!Fitz.: Clever? Not a bit. It's easy as possible when theAdmiral-ty and Horse Guards are not there to interfere. And sowith the others. Freed from the trammels imposed upon them byidle Acts of Parliament, all have given their natural tal-entsfull play and introduced reforms which, even in Eng-land, werenever dreamt of!Zara: But perhaps the most beneficent changes of all has beenef-fected by Mr. Goldbury, who, discarding the exploded theorythat some strange magic lies hidden in the number Seven, hasapplied the Limited Liability principle to individuals, and everyman, woman, and child is now a Company Limited with liabilityrestricted to the amount of his declared Capital! There is not achristened baby in Utopia who has not already issued his littleProspectus!Fitz.: Marvelous is the power of a Civilization which cantrans-mute, by a word, a Limited Income into an Income Limited.Zara: Reform has not stopped here—it has been appliedeven to the costume of our people. Discarding their own barbaricdress, the natives of our land have unanimously adopted the taste-ful fashions of England in all their rich entirety. Scaphio andPhantis have undertaken a contract to supply the whole of Utopiawith clothing designed upon the most approved Englishmodels—and the first Drawing-Room under the new state ofthings is to be held here this evening.Fitz.: But Drawing-Rooms are always held in the afternoon.Zara: Ah, we've improved upon that. We all look so muchbetter by candlelight! And when I tell you, dearest, that myCourt train has just arrived, you will understand that I am long-ing to go and try it on.Fitz.: Then we must part?Zara: Necessarily, for a time.Fitz.: Just as I wanted to tell you, with all the passionateenthu-siasm of my nature, how deeply, how devotedly I love you!Zara: Hush! Are these the accents of a heart that reallyfeels? True love does not indulge in declamation—its voiceis sweet, and soft, and low. The west wind whispers when he woosthe poplars!DUET — Zara and Fitzbattleaxe.Zara: Words of love too loudly spokenRing their own untimely knell;Noisy vows are rudely broken,Soft the song of Philomel.Whisper sweetly, whisper slowly,Hour by hour and day by day;Sweet and low as accents holyAre the notes of lover's lay.Both: Sweet and low, etc.Fitz: Let the conqueror, flushed with glory,Bid his noisy clarions bray;Lovers tell their artless storyIn a whispered virelay.False is he whose vows alluringMake the listening echoes ring;Sweet and low when all-enduringAre the songs that lovers sing!Both: Sweet and low, etc.(Exit Zara. Enter King dressed as Field-Marshal.)King: To a Monarch who has been accustomed to the uncontrolleduse of his limbs, the costume of a British Field-Marshal is,perhaps, at first, a little cramping. Are you sure that this isall right? It's not a practical joke, is it? No one has a keenersense of humor than I have, but the First Statutory CabinetCouncil of Utopia Limited must be conduct-ed with dignity andimpressiveness. Now, where are the other five who signed theArticles of Association?Fitz.: Sir, they are here.(Enter Lord Dramaleigh, Captain Corcoran, Sir Bailey Barre, Mr.Blushington, and Mr. Goldbury from different entrances.)King: Oh! (Addressing them) Gentlemen, our daughter holdsher first Drawing-Room in half an hour, and we shall have time tomake our half-yearly report in the interval. I am neces-sarilyunfamiliar with the forms of an English CabinetCouncil—perhaps the Lord Chamberlain will kindly put us inthe way of doing the thing properly, and with due regard to thesolemnity of the occasion.Lord D.: Certainly—nothing simpler. Kindly bring yourchairs forward—His Majesty will, of course, preside.(They range their chairs across stage like Christy Minstrels.King sits center, Lord Dramaleigh on his left, Mr. Goldbury on hisright, Captain Corcoran left of Lord Dramaleigh, CaptainFitzbattleaxe right of Mr. Goldbury, Mr. Blushington extremeright, Sir Bailey Barre extreme left.)King: Like this?Lord D.: Like this.King: We take your word for it that this is all right. Youare not making fun of us? This is in accordance with the prac-tice at the Court of St. James's?Lord D.: Well, it is in accordance with the practice at the Courtof St. James's Hall.King: Oh! it seems odd, but never mind.SONG — King.Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses. Which emptiesour police courts, and abolishes divorces.Chorus: Divorce is nearly obsolete in England.King: No tolerance we show to undeserving rank and splendour;For the higher his position is, the greater the offender.Chorus: That's a maxim that is prevalent in England.King: No peeress at our drawing-room before the Presencepasses Who wouldn't be accepted by the lower middle-classes. Eachshady dame, whatever be her rank, is bowed out neatly.Chorus: In short, this happy country has been Anglicizedcompletely Is really is surprising What a thorough Anglicizing Wehave brought about—Utopia's quite another land; In herenterprising movements, She is England—with improvements,Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!King: Our city we have beautified—we've done it willy-nilly— And all that isn't Belgrave Square is Strand andPiccadilly.Chorus: We haven't any slummeries in England!King: The chamberlain our native stage has purged beyond aquestion. Of "risky" situation and indelicate suggestion; No pieceis tolerated if it's costumed indiscreetly—Chorus: In short this happy country has been Anglicizedcom-pletely! It really is surprising, etc.King: Our peerage we've remodelled on an intellectual basis,Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races—Chorus: We are going to remodel it in England.King: The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seekadmission, And literary merit meets with proper recognition—Chorus: As literary merit does in England!King: Who knows but we may count among our intellectualchickens, Like you, an Earl of Thackery and p'r'aps a Duke ofDickens— Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais (when they come)we'll welcome sweetly—Chorus: In short, this happy country has been Anglicizedcompletely! It really is surprising, etc.(At the end all rise and replace their chairs.)King: Now, then, for our first Drawing-Room. Where are thePrin-cesses? What an extraordinary thing it is that since Euro-pean looking-glasses have been supplied to the Royal bed-rooms mydaughters are invariably late!Lord D.: Sir, their Royal Highnesses await your pleasure in theAnte-room.King: Oh. Then request them to do us the favor to enter atonce.(Enter all the Royal Household, including (besides the LordChamber-lain) the Vice-Chamberlain, the Master of the Horse, theMaster of the Buckhounds, the Lord High Treasurer, the LordSteward, the Comptroller of the Household, the Lord-in-Waiting,the Field Officer in Brigade Waiting, the Gold and Silver Stick,and the Gentlemen Ushers. Then enter the three Princesses (theirtrains carried by Pages of Honor), Lady Sophy, and the Ladies-in-Waiting.)King: My daughters, we are about to attempt a very solemnceremo-nial, so no giggling, if you please. Now, my Lord Chamber-lain, we are ready.Lord D.: Then, ladies and gentlemen, places, if you please. HisMaj-esty will take his place in front of the throne, and will beso obliging as to embrace all the debutantes. (LADY SOPHY muchshocked.)King: What—must I really?Lord D.: Absolutely indispensable.King: More jam for the Palace Peeper!(The King takes his place in front of the throne, the PrincessZara on his left, the two younger Princesses on the left of Zara.)King: Now, is every one in his place?Lord D.: Every one is in his place.King: Then let the revels commence.(Enter the ladies attending the Drawing-Room. They give theircards to the Groom-in-Waiting, who passes them to the Lord-in-Waiting, who passes them to the Vice-Chamberlain, who passes themto the Lord Chamberlain, who reads the names to the King as eachlady approaches. The ladies curtsey in succession to the King andthe three Princesses, and pass out. When all the presentationshave been accomplished, the King, Princesses, and Lady Sophy comeforward, and all the ladies re-enter.)RECITATIVE — KingThis ceremonial our wish displaysTo copy all Great Britain's courtly ways.Though lofty aims catastrophe entail,We'll gloriously succeed or nobly fail!UNACCOMPANIED CHORUSEagle High in Cloudland soaring—Sparrow twittering on a reed—Tiger in the jungle roaring—Frightened fawn in grassy mead—Let the eagle, not the sparrow,Be the object of your arrow—Fix the tiger with your eye—Pass the fawn in pity by.Glory then will crown the day—Glory, glory, anyway!(Exit all.)Enter Scaphio and Phantis, now dressed as judges in red and erminerobes and undress wigs. They come down stage melodramatically— working together.DUET — Scaphio and Phantis.Sca.: With fury deep we burnPhan.: We do—Sca.: We fume with smothered rage—Phan.: We do—Sca.: These Englishmen who rule supreme,Their undertaking they redeemBy stifling every harmless schemeIn which we both engage—Phan.: They do—Sca.: In which we both engage—Phan.: We think it is our turn—Sca.: We do—Phan.: We think our turn has come—Sca.: We do.Phan.: These Englishmen, they must prepareTo seek at once their native air.The King as heretofore, we swear,Shall be beneath our thumb—Sca.: He shall—Phan.: Shall be beneath out thumb—Sca.: He shall.Both: (with great energy)For this mustn't be, and this won't do.If you'll back me, then I'll back you,No, this won't do,No, this mustn't be.With fury deep we burn...Enter the King.King: Gentlemen, gentlemen—really! This unseemlydisplay of energy within the Royal precincts is altogetherunpardon-able. Pray, what do you complain of?Scaphio: (furiously) What do we complain of? Why, through theinnovations introduced by the Flowers of Progress all our harmlessschemes for making a provision for our old age are ruined. OurMatrimonial Agency is at a standstill, our Cheap Sherry businessis in bankruptcy, our Army Clothing contracts are paralyzed, andeven our Society paper, the Palace Peeper, is practically defunct!King: Defunct? Is that so? Dear, dear, I am truly sorry.Scaphio: Are you aware that Sir Bailey Barre has introduced a lawof libel by which all editors of scurrilous newspapers are pub-licly flogged—as in England? And six of our editors haveresigned in succession! Now, the editor of a scurrilous paper canstand a good deal—he takes a private thrashing as a matterof course—it's considered in his salary—but nogentleman likes to be publicly flogged.King: Naturally. I shouldn't like it myself.Phantis: Then our Burlesque Theater is absolutely ruined!King: Dear me. Well, theatrical property is not what it was.Phantis: Are you aware that the Lord Chamberlain, who has his ownviews as to the best means of elevating the national drama, hasdeclined to license any play that is not in blank verse and threehundred years old—as in England?Scaphio: And as if that wasn't enough, the County Councillor hasor-dered a four-foot wall to be built up right across theproscenium, in case of fire—as in England.Phantis: It's so hard on the company—who are liable to beroasted alive—and this has to be met by enormously increasedsalaries—as in England.Scaphio: You probably know that we've contracted to supply theentire nation with a complete English outfit. But perhaps you donot know that, when we send in our bills, our customers pleadliability limited to a declared capital of eighteenpence, andapply to be dealt with under the Winding-up Act—as inEngland?King: Really, gentlemen, this is very irregular. If you willbe so good as to formulate a detailed list of your grievances inwriting, addressed to the Secretary of Utopia Limited, they willbe laid before the Board, in due course, at their next monthlymeeting.Scaphio: Are we to understand that we are defied?King: That is the idea I intended to convey.Phantis: Defied! We are defied!Scaphio: (furiously) Take care—you know our powers.Trifle with us, and you die!TRIO — Scaphio, Phantis, and King.Sca.: If you think that, when banded in unity,We may both be defied with impunity,You are sadly misled of a verity!Phan.: If you value repose and tranquility,You'll revert to a state of docility,Or prepare to regret your temerity!King.: If my speech is unduly refractoryYou will find it a course satisfactoryAt an early Board meeting to show it up.Though if proper excuse you can trump any,You may wind up a Limited Company,You cannot conveniently blow it up!(Scaphio and Phantis thoroughly baffled)King.: (Dancing quietly)Whene'er I chance to baffle youI, also, dance a step or two—Of this now guess the hidden sense:(Scaphio and Phantis consider the question as King continuesdancing quietly—then give it up.)It means complete indifference!Sca. and Phan.: Of course it does—indifference!It means complete indifference!(King dancing quietly. Sca. and Phan. dancing furiously.)Sca. and Phan.: As we've a dance for every moodWith pas de trois we will conclude,What this may mean you all may guess—It typifies remorselessness!King.: It means unruffled cheerfulness!(King dances off placidly as Scaphio and Phantis dance furiously.)Phantis: (breathless) He's right—we are helpless! He's nolonger a human being—he's a Corporation, and so long as heconfines himself to his Articles of Association we can't touchhim! What are we to do?Scaphio: Do? Raise a Revolution, repeal the Act of Sixty-Two,recon-vert him into an individual, and insist on his immediate ex-plosion! (Tarara enters.) Tarara, come here; you're the very manwe want.Tarara: Certainly, allow me. (Offers a cracker to each; theysnatch them away impatiently.) That's rude.Scaphio: We have no time for idle forms. You wish to succeed tothe throne?Tarara: Naturally.Scaphio: Then you won't unless you join us. The King has defiedus, and, as matters stand, we are helpless. So are you. We mustdevise some plot at once to bring the people about his ears.Tarara: A plot?Phantis: Yes, a plot of superhuman subtlety. Have you such athing about you?Tarara: (feeling) No, I think not. No. There's one on mydressing-table.Scaphio: We can't wait—we must concoct one at once, and putit into execution without delay. There is not a moment to spare!TRIO — Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara.EnsembleWith wily brain upon the spotA private plot we'll plan,The most ingenious private plotSince private plots began.That's understood. So far we've gotAnd, striking while the iron's hot,We'll now determine like a shotThe details of this private plot.Sca.: I think we ought—(whispers)Phan. and Tar.: Such bosh I never heard!Phan.: Ah! happy thought!—(whispers)Sca. and Tar.: How utterly dashed absurd!Tar.: I'll tell you how—(whispers)Sca and Phan.: Why, what put that in your head?Sca.: I've got it now—(whispers)Phan. and Tar.: Oh, take him away to bed!Phan.: Oh, put him to bed!Tar.: Oh, put him to bed!Sca.: What, put me to bed?Phan. and Tar.: Yes, certainly put him to bed!Sca.: But, bless me, don't you see—Phan.: Do listen to me, I pray—Tar.: It certainly seems to me—Sca.: Bah—this is the only way!Phan.: It's rubbish absurd you growl!Tar.: You talk ridiculous stuff!Sca.: You're a drivelling barndoor owl!Phan.: You're a vapid and vain old muff!(All, coming down to audience.)So far we haven't quite solved the plot—They're not a very ingenious lot—But don't be unhappy,It's still on the tapis,We'll presently hit on a capital plot!Sca.: Suppose we all—(whispers)Phan.: Now there I think you're right.Then we might all—(whispers)Tar.: That's true, we certainly might.I'll tell you what—(whispers)Sca.: We will if we possibly can.Then on the spot— (whispers)Phan. and Tar.: Bravo! A capital plan!Sca.: That's exceedingly neat and new!Phan.: Exceedingly new and neat.Tar.: I fancy that that will do.Sca.: It's certainly very complete.Phan.: Well done you sly old sap!Tar.: Bravo, you cunning old mole!Sca.: You very ingenious chap!Phan.: You intellectual soul!(All, coming down and addressing audience.)At last a capital plan we've gotWe won't say how and we won't say what:It's safe in my noddle—Now off we will toddle,And slyly develop this capital plot!(Business. Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis in one direction, andTarara in the other.)(Enter Lord Dramaleigh and Mr. Goldbury.)Lord D.: Well, what do you think of our first South PacificDrawing-Room? Allowing for a slight difficulty with the trains,and a little want of familiarity with the use of the rouge-pot, itwas, on the whole, a meritorious affair?Gold.: My dear Dramaleigh, it redounds infinitely to yourcredit.Lord D.: One or two judicious innovations, I think?Gold.: Admirable. The cup of tea and the plate of mixedbiscuits were a cheap and effective inspiration.Lord D.: Yes—my idea entirely. Never been done before.Gold.: Pretty little maids, the King's youngest daughters, buttimid.Lord D.: That'll wear off. Young.Gold.: That'll wear off. Ha! here they come, by George! Andwith-out the Dragon! What can they have done with her?(Enter Nekaya and Kalyba timidly.)Nekaya: Oh, if you please, Lady Sophy has sent us in here,because Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe are going on, in thegarden, in a manner which no well-conducted young ladies ought towitness.Lord D.: Indeed, we are very much obliged to her Ladyship.Kalyba: Are you? I wonder why.Nekaya: Don't tell us if it's rude.Lord D.: Rude? Not at all. We are obliged to Lady Sophy becauseshe has afforded us the pleasure of seeing you.Nekaya: I don't think you ought to talk to us like that.Kalyba: It's calculated to turn our heads.Nekaya: Attractive girls cannot be too particular.Kalyba: Oh pray, pray do not take advantage of our unprotectedinno-cence.Gold.: Pray be reassured—you are in no danger whatever.Lord D.: But may I ask—is this extreme delicacy—thisshrinking sensitiveness—a general characteristic of Utopianyoung ladies?Nekaya: Oh no; we are crack specimens.Kalyba: We are the pick of the basket. Would you mind notcoming quite so near? Thank you.Nekaya: And please don't look at us like that; it unsettles us.Kalyba: And we don't like it. At least, we do like it; but it'swrong.Nekaya: We have enjoyed the inestimable privilege of beingeducated by a most refined and easily shocked English lady, on thevery strictest English principles.Gold.: But, my dear young ladies—-Kalyba: Oh, don't! You mustn't. It's too affectionate.Nekaya: It really does unsettle us.Gold.: Are you really under the impression that English girlsare so ridiculously demure? Why, an English girl of the highesttype is the best, the most beautiful, the bravest, and thebrightest creature that Heaven has conferred upon this world ofours. She is frank, open-hearted, and fearless, and never showsin so favorable a light as when she gives her own blamelessimpulses full play!Nekaya Oh, you shocking story! and Kalyba:Gold.: Not at all. I'm speaking the strict truth. I'll tellyou all about her.SONG — Mr. Goldbury.A wonderful joy our eyes to bless,In her magnificent comeliness,Is an English girl of eleven stone two,And five foot ten in her dancing shoe!She follows the hounds, and on she pounds—The "field" tails off and the muffs diminish—Over the hedges and brooks she bounds,Straight as a crow, from find to finish.At cricket, her kin will lose or win—She and her maids, on grass and clover,Eleven maids out—eleven maids in—And perhaps an occasional "maiden over!"Go search the world and search the sea,Then come you home and sing with meThere's no such gold and no such pearlAs a bright and beautiful English girl!With a ten-mile spin she stretches her limbs,She golfs, she punts, she rows, she swims—She plays, she sings, she dances, too,From ten or eleven til all is blue!At ball or drum, til small hours come(Chaperon's fans concealing her yawning)She'll waltz away like a teetotum.And never go home til daylight's dawning.Lawn-tennis may share her favours fair—Her eyes a-dance, and her cheeks a-glowing—Down comes her hair, but then what does she care?It's all her own and it's worth the showing!Go search the world, etc.Her soul is sweet as the ocean air,For prudery knows no haven there;To find mock-modesty, please applyTo the conscious blush and the downcast eye.Rich in the things contentment brings,In every pure enjoyment wealthy,Blithe and beautiful bird she sings,For body and mind are hale and healthy.Her eyes they thrill with right goodwill—Her heart is light as a floating feather—As pure and bright as the mountain rillThat leaps and laughs in the Highland heather!Go search the world, etc.QUARTETNek.: Then I may sing and play?Lord D.: You may!Kal.: Then I may laugh and shout?Gold.: No doubt!.Nek.: These maxims you endorse?Lord D.: Of course!Kal.: You won't exclaim "Oh fie!"Gold.: Not I!Gold: Whatever you are—be that:Whatever you say—be true:Straightforwardly act—Be honest—in fact,Be nobody else but you.Lord D.: Give every answer pat—Your character true unfurl;And when it is ripe,You'll then be a typeOf a capital English girl.All.: Oh sweet surprise—oh, dear delight,To find it undisputed quite,All musty, fusty rules despiteThat Art is wrong and Nature right!Nek.: When happy I,With laughter gladI'll wake the echoes fairly,And only sighWhen I am sad—And that will be but rarely!Kal.: I'll row and fish,And gallop, soon—No longer be a prim one—And when I wishTo hum a tune,It needn't be a hymn one?Gold and Lord D.: No, no!It needn't be a hymn one!All (dancing): Oh, sweet surprise and dear delightTo find it undisputed quite—All musty, fusty rules despite—That Art is wrong and Nature right!(Dance, and off)(Enter Lady Sophy)RECITATIVE — Lady Sophy.Oh, would some demon power the gift impartTo quell my over-conscientious heart—Unspeak the oaths that never had been spoken,And break the vows that never should be broken!SONG — Lady SophyWhen but a maid of fifteen year,Unsought—unplighted—Short petticoated—and, I fear,Still shorter-sighted—I made a vow, one early spring,That only to some spotless KingWho proof of blameless life could bringI'd be united.For I had read, not long before,Of blameless kings in fairy lore,And thought the race still flourished here—Well, well—I was a maid of fifteen year!(The King enters and overhears this verse)Each morning I pursued my game(An early riser);For spotless monarchs I becameAn advertiser:But all in vain I searched each land,So, kingless, to my native strandReturned, a little older, andA good deal wiser!I learnt that spotless King and PrinceHave disappeared some ages since—Even Paramount's angelic grace—Ah me!—Is but a mask on Nature's face!(King comes forward)King: Ah, Lady Sophy—then you love me!For so you sing—Lady S.: (Indignant and surprise. Producing "Palace Peeper")No, by the stars that shine above me,Degraded King!For while these rumours, through the city bruited,Remain uncontradicted, unrefuted,The object thou of my aversion rooted,Repulsive thing!King: Be just—the time is now at handWhen truth may published be.These paragraphs were written andContributed by me!Lady S.: By you? No, no!King: Yes, yes. I swear, by me!I, caught in Scaphio's ruthless toil,Contributed the lot!Lady S.: That that is why you did not boilThe author on the spot!King: And that is why I did not boilThe author on the spot!Lady S.: I couldn't think why you did not boil!King: But I know why I did not boilThe author on the spot!DUET — Lady Sophy and KingLady S.: Oh, the rapture unrestrainedOf a candid retractation!For my sovereign has deignedA convincing explanation—And the clouds that gathered o'erAll have vanished in the distance,And of Kings of fairy loreOne, at least, is in existence!King: Oh, the skies are blue above,And the earth is red and rosal,Now the lady of my loveHas accepted my proposal!For that asinorum ponsI have crossed without assistance,And of prudish paragonsOne, at least, is in existence!(King and Lady Sophy dance gracefully. While this is going onLord Dramaleigh enters unobserved with Nekaya and Capt.Fitzbattleaxe. The two girls direct Zara's attention to the Kingand Lady Sophy, who are still dancing affectionately together. Atthis point the King kisses Lady Sophy, which causes the Princessesto make an exclamation. The King and Lady Sophy are at first muchconfused at being detected, but eventually throw off all reserve,and the four couples break into a wild Tarantella, and at the endexeunt severally.)Enter all the male Chorus, in great excitement, from variousentrances, led by Scaphio, Phantis, and Tarara, and followed bythe female Chorus.CHORUS.Upon our sea-girt landAt our enforced commandReform has laid her handLike some remorseless ogress—And made us darkly rueThe deeds she dared to do—And all is owing toThose hated Flowers of Progress!So down with them!So down with them!Reform's a hated ogress.So down with them!So down with them!Down with the Flowers of Progress!(Flourish. Enter King, his three daughters, Lady Sophy, and theFlowers of Progress.)King: What means this most unmannerly irruption?Is this your gratitude for boons conferred?Scaphio: Boons? Bah! A fico for such boons, say we!These boons have brought Utopia to a standstill!Our pride and boast—the Army and the Navy—Have both been reconstructed and remodeledUpon so irresistible a basisThat all the neighboring nations have disarmed—And War's impossible! Your County CouncillorHas passed such drastic Sanitary lawsThat all doctors dwindle, starve, and die!The laws, remodeled by Sir Bailey Barre,Have quite extinguished crime and litigation:The lawyers starve, and all the jails are letAs model lodgings for the working-classes!In short—Utopia, swamped by dull Prosperity,Demands that these detested Flowers of ProgressBe sent about their business, and affairsRestored to their original complexion!King: (to Zara) My daughter, this is a very unpleasant stateof things. What is to be done?Zara: I don't know—I don't understand it. We must haveomitted something.King: Omitted something? Yes, that's all very well,but—-(Sir Bailey Barre whispers to Zara.)Zara: (suddenly) Of course! Now I remember! Why, I hadforgot-ten the most essential element of all!King: And that is?—-Zara: Government by Party! Introduce that great and gloriouselement—at once the bulwark and foundation of England'sgreatness—and all will be well! No political measures willendure, because one Party will assuredly undo all that the otherParty has done; and while grouse is to be shot, and foxes worriedto death, the legislative action of the coun-try will be at astandstill. Then there will be sickness in plenty, endlesslawsuits, crowded jails, interminable confu-sion in the Army andNavy, and, in short, general and unex-ampled prosperity!All: Ulahlica! Ulahlica!Phantis: (aside) Baffled!Scaphio: But an hour will come!King: Your hour has come already—away with them, and letthem wait my will! (Scaphio and Phantis are led off in custody.)From this moment Government by Party is adopted, with all itsattendant blessings; and henceforward Utopia will no longer be aMonarchy Limited, but, what is a great deal better, a LimitedMonarchy!FINALEZara: There's a little group of isles beyond the wave—So tiny, you might almost wonder where it is—That nation is the bravest of the brave,And cowards are the rarest of all rarities.The proudest nations kneel at her command;She terrifies all foreign-born rapscallions;And holds the peace of Europe in her handWith half a score invincible battalions!Such, at least, is the taleWhich is born on the gale,From the island which dwells in the sea.Let us hope, for her sakeThat she makes no mistake—That she's all the professes to be!King: Oh, may we copy all her maxims wise,And imitate her virtues and her charities;And may we, by degrees, acclimatizeHer Parliamentary peculiarities!By doing so, we shall in course of time,Regenerate completely our entire land—Great Britain is the monarchy sublime,To which some add (others do not) Ireland.Such at least is the tale, etc.CURTAIN.