orBunthorne's Bride
Book byW.S. GILBERTMusic byARTHUR SULLIVAN
First produced at the Opera Comique, London,on April 23, 1881.
PATIENCEDRAMATIS PERSONAE
Officers of Dragoon GuardsCOLONEL CALVERLEY BaritoneMAJOR MURGATROYD BaritoneLIEUT. THE DUKE OF DUNSTABLE TenorREGINALD BUNTHORNE (A Fleshly Poet) Light BaritoneARCHIBALD GROSVENOR (An Idyllic Poet) BaritoneMR. BUNTHORNE'S SOLICITOR Non-singingRapturous MaidensTHE LADY ANGELA Mezzo-SopranoTHE LADY SAPHIR Mezzo-SopranoTHE LADY ELLA SopranoTHE LADY JANE ContraltoPATIENCE (A Dairy Maid) SopranoChorus of Rapturous MAIDENS and Officers of DRAGOON GUARDS
ACT I—Exterior of Castle BunthorneACT II—A Glade
[Scene: Exterior of Castle Bunthorne, the gateway to which isseen, R.U.E., and is approached by a drawbridge over a moat.A rocky eminence R. with steps down to the stage. In frontof it, a rustic bench, on which ANGELA is seated, with ELLAon her left. Young Ladies wearing aesthetic draperies aregrouped about the stage from R. to L.C., SAPHIR being nearthe L. end of the group. The Ladies play on lutes, etc., asthey sing, and all are in the last stage of despair.]
No. 1. Twenty love-sick maidens we(Opening Chorus and Solos)Maidens, Angela, and EllaMAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,Love-sick all against our will.Twenty years hence we shall beTwenty love-sick maidens still!Twenty love-sick maidens we,And we die for love of thee!Twenty love-sick maidens we,Love-sick all against our will.Twenty years hence we shall beTwenty love-sick maidens still!ANGELA Love feeds on hope, they say, or love will die;MAIDENS Ah, miserie!ANGELA Yet my love lives, although no hope have I!MAIDENS Ah, miserie!ANGELA Alas, poor heart, go hide thyself away,To weeping concords tune thy roundelay!Ah, miserie!MAIDENS All our love is all for one,Yet that love he heedeth not,He is coy and cares for none,Sad and sorry is our lot!Ah, miserie!ELLA Go, breaking heart,Go, dream of love requited!Go, foolish heart,Go, dream of lovers plighted;Go, madcap heart,Go, dream of never waking;And in thy dreamForget that thou art breaking!MAIDENS Ah, miserie!ELLA Forget that thou art breaking!MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,Love-sick all against our will.Twenty years hence we shall beTwenty love-sick maidens still.Ah, miserie!ANGELA There is a strange magic in this love of ours! Rivals aswe all are in the affections of our Reginald, the veryhopelessness of our love is a bond that binds us to one another!SAPHIR Jealousy is merged in misery. While he, the verycynosure of our eyes and hearts, remains icy insensible — whathave we to strive for?ELLA The love of maidens is, to him, as interesting as thetaxes!SAPHIR Would that it were! He pays his taxes.ANGELA And cherishes the receipts![Enter LADY JANE, L.U.E.]SAPHIR Happy receipts! [All sigh heavily]JANE [L.C., suddenly] Fools! [They start, and turn to her]ANGELA I beg your pardon?JANE Fools and blind! The man loves — wildly loves!ANGELA But whom? None of us!JANE No, none of us. His weird fancy has lighted, for thenonce, on Patience, the village milkmaid!SAPHIR On Patience? Oh, it cannot be!JANE Bah! But yesterday I caught him in her dairy, eating freshbutter with a tablespoon. Today he is not well!SAPHIR But Patience boasts that she has never loved — that loveis, to her, a sealed book! Oh, he cannot be serious!JANE `Tis but a fleeting fancy — `twill quickly wear away.[aside, coming down-stage] Oh, Reginald, if you but knew what awealth of golden love is waiting for you, stored up in thisrugged old bosom of mine, the milkmaid's triumph would be shortindeed![PATIENCE appears on an eminence, R. She looks down with pity onthe despondent Ladies.]
No. 2. Still brooding on their mad infatuation!(Recitative)Patience, Saphir, Angela, and MaidensPATIENCE Still brooding on their mad infatuation!I thank thee, Love, thou comest not to me!Far happier I, free from thy ministration,Than dukes or duchesses who love can be!SAPHIR [looking up] `Tis Patience — happy girl! Loved by apoet!PATIENCE Your pardon, ladies. I intrude upon you! [Going]ANGELA Nay, pretty child, come hither. [PATIENCE descends.] Isit true that you have never loved?PATIENCE Most true indeed.SOPRANOS Most marvelous!ALTOS And most deplorable!
I cannot tell what this love may be(Solo)PatiencePATIENCE I cannot tell what this love may be[L.C.] That cometh to all but not to me.It cannot be kind as they'd imply,Or why do these ladies sigh?It cannot be joy and rapture deep,Or why do these gentle ladies weep?It cannot be blissful as `tis said,Or why are their eyes so wondrous red?Though ev'rywhere true love I seeA-coming to all, but not to me,I cannot tell what this love may be!For I am blithe and I am gay,While they sit sighing night and day.PATIENCE ALLFor I am blithe and I am gay, Yes, she is blithe and she isgay,Think of the gulf `twixt Yes, she is blithe andthem and me, she is gay,Think of the gulf `twixt them, Yes, she is blithe andand me, and she is gay,Fal lal la la la la la la la la la la la la lala la la la la la la la la la la la,and miserie! Ah, miserie![She dances across R. and back to R.C.]PATIENCE If love is a thorn, they show no witWho foolishly hug and foster it.If love is a weed, how simple theyWho gather it, day by day!If love is a nettle that makes you smart,Then why do you wear it next your heart?And if it be none of these, say I,Ah, why do you sit and sob and sigh?Though ev'rywhere true love I seeA-coming to all, but not to me,I cannot tell what this love may be!For I am blithe and I am gay,While they sit sighing night and day.PATIENCE ALLFor I am blithe and I Yes, she is blithe and she isam gay, gay,Think of the gulf `twixt Yes, she is blithe and she isthem and me, gay,Think of the gulf `twixt Yes, she is blithe and she isthem and me, gay,Fal lal la la la la la la la la la la la la lala la la la la la la la la la la la,and miserie! Ah, miserie!ANGELA Ah, Patience, if you have never loved, you have neverknown true happiness! [All sigh.]PATIENCE [C.] But the truly happy always seem to have so much ontheir minds. The truly happy never seem quite well.JANE [coming L.C.] There is a transcendentality of delirium —an acute accentuation of supremest ecstasy — which the earthymight easily mistake for indigestion. But it is not indigestion— it is aesthetic transfiguration! [to the others.] Enough ofbabble. Come!PATIENCE [stopping her as she turns to go up C.] But stay, Ihave some news for you. The 35th Dragoon Guards have halted inthe village, and are even now on their way to this very spot.ANGELA The 35th Dragoon Guards!SAPHIR They are fleshly men, of full habit!ELLA We care nothing for Dragoon Guards!PATIENCE But, bless me, you were all engaged to them a year ago!SAPHIR A year ago!ANGELA My poor child, you don't understand these things. A yearago they were very well in our eyes, but since then our tasteshave been etherealized, our perceptions exalted. [to the others]Come, it is time to lift up our voices in morning carol to ourReginald. Let us to his door![ANGELA leading, the Ladies go off, two and two, Jane last, overthe drawbridge into the castle, singing refrain of "Twentylove-sick maidens", and, as before, accompanying themselveson harps, etc.]
No. 2a. Twenty love-sick maidens we(Chorus)MaidensMAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,Love-sick all against our will.Twenty years hence we shall beTwenty love-sick maidens still!Ah, miserie![PATIENCE watches them in surprise, and, with a gesture ofcomplete bafflement, climbs the rock and goes off the wayshe entered.][The officers of the DRAGOON GUARDS enter, R., led by the MAJOR.They form their line across the front of the stage.]
No. 3. The soldiers of our Queen(Chorus and Solo)Dragoons and ColonelDRAGOONS The soldiers of our QueenAre linked in friendly tether;Upon the battle sceneThey fight the foe together.There ev'ry mother's sonPrepared to fight and fall is;The enemy of oneThe enemy of all is!The enemy of oneThe enemy of all is![On an order from the MAJOR they fall back.][Enter the COLONEL. All salute.]COLONEL If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,[C.] Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,DRAGOONS [saluting] Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!COLONEL Take all the remarkable people in history,Rattle them off to a popular tune.DRAGOONS Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!COLONEL The pluck of Lord Nelson on board of the Victory—Genius of Bismarck devising a plan—The humour of Fielding (which sounds contradictory)—Coolness of Paget about to trepan—The science of Jullien, the eminent musico—Wit of Macaulay, who wrote of Queen Anne—The pathos of Paddy, as rendered by Boucicault—Style of the Bishop of Sodor and Man—The dash of a D'Orsay, divested of quackery—Narrative powers of Dickens and Thackeray—Victor Emmanuel — peak-haunting Peveril—Thomas Aquinas, and Doctor Sacheverell—Tupper and Tennyson — Daniel Defoe—Anthony Trollope and Mister Guizot! Ah!DRAGOONS Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!COLONEL DRAGOONSTake of these elements all A Heavy Dragoon,that is fusible a Heavy Dragoon,Melt them all down in a A Heavy Dragoon,pipkin or crucible— a Heavy Dragoon,Set them to simmer, A Heavy Dragoon,and take off the scum, a Heavy Dragoon,And a Heavy Dragoon Is the residuum!is the residuum!COLONEL If you want a receipt for this soldier-like paragon,Get at the wealth of the Czar (if you can)—The family pride of a Spaniard from Aragon—Force of Mephisto pronouncing a ban—A smack of Lord Waterford, reckless and rollicky—Swagger of Roderick, heading his clan—The keen penetration of Paddington Pollaky—Grace of an Odalisque on a divan—The genius strategic of Caesar or Hannibal—Skill of Sir Garnet in thrashing a cannibal—Flavour of Hamlet — the Stranger, a touch of him—Little of Manfred (but not very much of him)—Beadle of Burlington — Richardson's show—Mister Micawber and Madame Tussaud! Ah!DRAGOONS Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!COLONEL DRAGOONSTake of these elements all A Heavy Dragoon,that is fusible a Heavy Dragoon,Melt them all down in a A Heavy Dragoon,pipkin or crucible— a Heavy Dragoon,Set them to simmer, A Heavy Dragoon,and take off the scum, a Heavy Dragoon,And a Heavy Dragoon Is the residuum!is the residuum!COLONEL Well, here we are once more on the scene of our formertriumphs. But where's the Duke?[Enter DUKE, listlessly, and in low spirits.]DUKE Here I am! [Sighs.]COLONEL Come, cheer up, don't give way!DUKE Oh, for that, I'm as cheerful as a poor devil can beexpected to be who has the misfortune to be a Duke, with athousand a day!MAJOR Humph! Most men would envy you!DUKE Envy me? Tell me, Major, are you fond of toffee?MAJOR Very!COLONEL We are all fond of toffee.ALL We are!DUKE Yes, and toffee in moderation is a capital thing. But tolive on toffee — toffee for breakfast, toffee for dinner, toffeefor tea — to have it supposed that you care for nothing buttoffee, and that you would consider yourself insulted if anythingbut toffee were offered to you — how would you like that?COLONEL I can quite believe that, under those circumstances,even toffee would become monotonous.DUKE For "toffee" read flattery, adulation, and abjectdeference, carried to such a pitch that I began, at last, tothink that man was born bent at an angle of forty-five degrees!Great heavens, what is there to adulate in me? Am I particularlyintelligent, or remarkably studious, or excruciatingly witty, orunusually accomplished, or exceptionally virtuous?COLONEL You're about as commonplace a young man as ever I saw.ALL You are!DUKE Exactly! That's it exactly! That describes me to a T!Thank you all very much! [Shakes hands with the Colonel] Well,I couldn't stand it any longer, so I joined this second-classcavalry regiment. In the army, thought I, I shall beoccasionally snubbed, perhaps even bullied, who knows? Thethought was rapture, and here I am.COLONEL [looking off] Yes, and here are the ladies!DUKE But who is the gentleman with the long hair?COLONEL I don't know.DUKE He seems popular!COLONEL He does seem popular![The DRAGOONS back up R., watching the entrance of the Ladies.BUNTHORNE enters, L.U.E., followed by the Ladies, two andtwo, playing on harps as before. He is composing a poem,and is quite absorbed. He sees no one, but walks across thestage, followed by the Ladies, who take no notice of theDRAGOONS — to the surprise and indignation of thoseofficers.][Bunthorne, the Ladies following, comes slowly down L. and thencrosses the stage to R.]
No. 4. In a doleful train(Chorus and Solos)Maidens, Ella, Angela, Saphir, Dragoons, and BunthorneMAIDENS In a doleful trainTwo and two we walk all day—For we love in vain!None so sorrowful as theyWho can only sigh and say,Woe is me, alackaday!Woe is me, alackaday!DRAGOONS Now is not this ridiculous, and is not thispreposterous?A thorough-paced absurdity — explain it if youcan.Instead of rushing eagerly to cherish us and foster us,They all prefer this melancholy literary man.Instead of slyly peering at us,Casting looks endearing at us,Blushing at us, flushing at us, flirting with a fan;They're actually sneering at us, fleering at us,jeering at us!Pretty sort of treatment for a military man!They're actually sneering at us, fleering at us,jeering at us!Pretty sort of treatment for a military man![Bunthorne, C.]ANGELA [R. of BUNTHORNE] Mystic poet, hear our prayer,Twenty love-sick maidens we—Young and wealthy, dark and fair,All of county family.And we die for love of thee—Twenty love-sick maidens we!MAIDENS Yes, we die for love of thee—Twenty love-sick maidens we!BUNTHORNE [crossing to L.] Though my book I seem to scanIn a rapt ecstatic way,Like a literary manWho despises female clay,I hear plainly all they say,Twenty love-sick maidens they![BUNTHORNE crosses to C.]DRAGOONS [to each other] He hears plainly all they say,Twenty love-sick maidens they!SAPHIR [L. of BUNTHORNE] Though so excellently wise,For a moment mortal be,Deign to raise thy purple eyesFrom thy heart-drawn poesy.Twenty lovesick maidens see—Each is kneeling on her knee![All kneel.]MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens see—Each is kneeling on her knee!BUNTHORNE [going R.] Though, as I remarked before,Any one convinced would beThat some transcendental loreIs monopolizing me,Round the corner I can seeEach is kneeling on her knee!DRAGOONS Round the corner he can seeEach is kneeling on her knee!Now is not this ridiculous, and is not this preposterous?A thorough-paced absurdity — ridiculous!preposterous!Explain it if you can.MAIDENS DRAGOONSIn a doleful train Now is not this ridiculous,Two and two we walk all day, and is not this preposterous?A thorough-paced absurdity—None so sorrowful as they explain it if you can.For we love in vain! Instead of rushing eagerlyNone so sorrowful as they to cherish us and foster us,They all prefer thismelancholy literary man.Who can only sigh and say, Instead of slyly peering at us,Casting looks endearing at us,Blushing at us, flushing at us,Flirting with a fan;Woe is me, alackaday! They're actually sneering at us,fleering at us, jeering at us!Pretty sort of treatment fora military man!Woe is me, alackaday! They're actually sneering at us,fleering at us, jeering at us!Pretty sort of treatment fora military man!Twenty love-sick maidens we, Now is not this ridiculous,and is not this preposterous?They all prefer this melancholyliterary man.And we die for love of thee! Now is not this ridiculous,and is not this preposterous?They all prefer this melancholy,Yes, we die for love of thee! melancholy literary man.Now is not this ridiculous,and is not this preposterous?
COLONEL [R.C.] Angela! what is the meaning of this?ANGELA [C.] Oh, sir, leave us; our minds are but ill-tuned tolight love-talk.MAJOR [L.C.] But what in the world has come over you all?JANE [L.C.] Bunthorne! He has come over us. He has come amongus, and he has idealized us.DUKE Has he succeeded in idealizing you?JANE He has!DUKE Good old Bunthorne!JANE My eyes are open; I droop despairingly; I am soulfullyintense; I am limp and I cling![During this BUNTHORNE is seen in all the agonies of composition.The Ladies are watching him intently as he writhes. At lasthe hits on the word he wants and writes it down. A generalsense of relief.]BUN. Finished! At last! Finished![He staggers, overcome with the mental strain, into the arms ofthe COLONEL.]COLONEL Are you better now?BUN. Yes — oh, it's you! — I am better now. The poem isfinished, and my soul has gone out into it. That was all. Itwas nothing worth mentioning, it occurs three times a day.[Sees PATIENCE, who has entered during this scene.]Ah, Patience! Dear Patience![Holds her hand; she seems frightened.]ANGELA Will it please you read it to us, sir?SAPHIR This we supplicate. [All kneel.]BUN. Shall I?DRAGOONS No!BUN. [annoyed — to PATIENCE] I will read it if you bid me!PATIENCE [much frightened] You can if you like!BUN. It is a wild, weird, fleshy thing; yet very tender, veryyearning, very precious. It is called, "Oh, Hollow! Hollow!Hollow!"PATIENCE Is it a hunting song?BUN. A hunting song? No, it is not a hunting song. It is thewail of the poet's heart on discovering that everything iscommonplace. To understand it, cling passionately to one anotherand think of faint lilies.[They do so as he recites]"OH, HOLLOW! HOLLOW! HOLLOW!"What time the poet hath hymnedThe writhing maid, lithe-limbed,Quivering on amaranthine asphodel,How can he paint her woes,Knowing, as well he knows,That all can be set right with calomel?When from the poet's plinthThe amorous colocynthYearns for the aloe, faint with rapturous thrills,How can he hymn their throesKnowing, as well he knows,That they are only uncompounded pills?Is it, and can it be,Nature hath this decree,Nothing poetic in the world shall dwell?Or that in all her worksSomething poetic lurks,Even in colocynth and calomel?I cannot tell.[He goes off, L.U.E. All turn and watch him, not speaking untilhe has gone.]ANGELA How purely fragrant!SAPHIR How earnestly precious!PATIENCE Well, it seems to me to be nonsense.SAPHIR Nonsense, yes, perhaps — but oh, what precious nonsense!COLONEL This is all very well, but you seem to forget that youare engaged to us.SAPHIR It can never be. You are not Empyrean. You are notDella Cruscan. You are not even Early English. Oh, be EarlyEnglish ere it is too late![Officers look at each other in astonishment.]JANE [looking at uniform] Red and Yellow! Primary colors! Oh,South Kensington!DUKE We didn't design our uniforms, but we don't see how theycould be improved!JANE No, you wouldn't. Still, there is a cobwebby grey velvet,with a tender bloom like cold gravy, which, made Florentinefourteenth century, trimmed with Venetian leather and Spanishaltar lace, and surmounted with something Japanese — it mattersnot what — would at least be Early English! Come, maidens.[Exeunt Maidens, L.U.E., two and two, singing refrain of "Twentylove-sick maidens we". PATIENCE goes off L. The Officerswatch the Ladies go off in astonishment.]
No. 4a. Twenty love-sick maidens we(Chorus)Maidens[As the MAIDENS depart, the DRAGOONS spread across the stage.]MAIDENS Twenty love-sick maidens we,Love-sick all against our will.Twenty years hence we shall beTwenty love-sick maidens still!Ah, miserie!DUKE Gentlemen, this is an insult to the British uniform.COLONEL A uniform that has been as successful in the courts ofVenus as on the field of Mars!
No. 5. When I first put this uniform on(Solo and Chorus)Colonel and Dragoons[The DRAGOONS form their original line.]Song — COLONELWhen I first put this uniform on,I said, as I looked in the glass,"It's one to a millionThat any civilianMy figure and form will surpass.Gold lace has a charm for the fair,And I've plenty of that, and to spare,While a lover's professions,When uttered in Hessians,Are eloquent ev'rywhere!"A fact that I counted upon,When I first put this uniform on!Chorus of DRAGOONSBy a simple coincidence, fewCould ever have counted upon,The same thing occurred to me,When I first put this uniform on!COL. I said, when I first put it on,"It is plain to the veriest dunce,That every beautyWill feel it her dutyTo yield to its glamour at once.They will see that I'm freely gold-lacedIn a uniform handsome and chaste"—But the peripateticsOf long-haired aestheticsAre very much more to their taste—Which I never counted upon,When I first put this uniform on!CHORUS By a simple coincidence, fewCould ever have reckoned upon,I didn't anticipate that,When I first put this uniform on![The DRAGOONS go off angrily, R.][Enter BUNTHORNE, L.U.E., who changes his manner and becomesintensely melodramatic.]
No. 6. Am I alone and unobserved?(Recitative and Solo)BunthorneBUN. [Up-stage, he looks off L. and R.]Am I alone,And unobserved? I am![comes down]Then let me ownI'm an aesthetic sham![and walks tragically to down-stage, C.]This air severeIs but a mereVeneer!This cynic smileIs but a wileOf guile!This costume chasteIs but good tasteMisplaced!Let me confess!A languid love for Lilies does not blight me!Lank limbs and haggard cheeks do not delight me!I do not care for dirty greensBy any means.I do not long for all one seesThat's Japanese.I am not fond of uttering platitudesIn stained-glass attitudes.In short, my mediaevalism's affectation,Born of a morbid love of admiration![Tiptoes up-stage, looking L. and R., and comes back down, C.]If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line as aman of culture rare,You must get up all the germs of the transcendental terms, andplant them ev'rywhere.You must lie upon the daisies and discourse in novel phrases ofyour complicated state of mind,The meaning doesn't matter if it's only idle chatter of atranscendental kind.And ev'ry one will say,As you walk your mystic way,"If this young man expresses himself in terms too deep for me,Why, what a very singularly deep young man this deep young manmust be!"Be eloquent in praise of the very dull old days which have longsince passed away,And convince 'em, if you can, that the reign of good Queen Annewas Culture's palmiest day.Of course you will pooh-pooh whatever's fresh and new, anddeclare it's crude and mean,For Art stopped short in the cultivated court of the EmpressJosephine.And ev'ryone will say,As you walk your mystic way,"If that's not good enough for him which is good enough for me,Why, what a very cultivated kind of youth this kind of youth mustbe!"Then a sentimental passion of a vegetable fashion must exciteyour languid spleen,An attachment a la Plato for a bashful young potato, or a not-too-French French bean!Though the Philistines may jostle, you will rank as an apostle inthe high aesthetic band,If you walk down Piccadilly with a poppy or a lily in yourmedieval hand.And ev'ryone will say,As you walk your flow'ry way,"If he's content with a vegetable love which would certainly notsuit me,Why, what a most particularly pure young man this pure young manmust be!"[At the end of his song, PATIENCE enters, L. He sees her.]BUN. Ah! Patience, come hither. [She comes to him timidly.] Iam pleased with thee. The bitter-hearted one, who finds all elsehollow, is pleased with thee. For you are not hollow. Are you?PATIENCE No, thanks, I have dined; but — I beg your pardon — Iinterrupt you. [Turns to go; he stops her.]BUN. Life is made up of interruptions. The tortured soul,yearning for solitude, writhes under them. Oh, but my heart isa-weary! Oh, I am a cursed thing! [She attempts to escape.]Don't go.PATIENCE Really, I'm very sorry.BUN. Tell me, girl, do you ever yearn?PATIENCE I earn my living.BUN. [impatiently] No, no! Do you know what it is to be heart-hungry? Do you know what it is to yearn for the Indefinable, andyet to be brought face to face, dally, with the MultiplicationTable? Do you know what it is to seek oceans and to findpuddles? That's my case. Oh, I am a cursed thing! [She turnsagain.] Don't go.PATIENCE If you please, I don't understand you — you frighten me!BUN. Don't be frightened — it's only poetry.PATIENCE Well, if that's poetry, I don't like poetry.BUN. [eagerly] Don't you? [aside] Can I trust her? [aloud]Patience, you don't like poetry — well, between you and me, Idon't like poetry. It's hollow, unsubstantial — unsatisfactory.What's the use of yearning for Elysian Fields when you know youcan't get `em, and would only let `em out on building leases ifyou had `em?PATIENCE Sir, I—BUN. Patience, I have long loved you. Let me tell you a secret.I am not as bilious as I look. If you like, I will cut my hair.There is more innocent fun within me than a casual spectatorwould imagine. You have never seen me frolicsome. Be a goodgirl — a very good girl — and one day you shall. If you arefond of touch-and-go jocularity — this is the shop for it.PATIENCE Sir, I will speak plainly. In the matter of love I amuntaught. I have never loved but my great-aunt. But I am quitecertain that, under any circumstances, I couldn't possibly love you.BUN. Oh, you think not?PATIENCE I'm quite sure of it. Quite sure. Quite.BUN. Very good. Life is henceforth a blank. I don't care whatbecomes of me. I have only to ask that you will not abuse myconfidence; though you despise me, I am extremely popular withthe other young ladies.PATIENCE I only ask that you will leave me and never renew thesubject.BUN. Certainly. Broken-hearted and desolate, I go. [Goes up-stage, suddenly turns and recites.]"Oh, to be wafted away,From this black Aceldama of sorrow,Where the dust of an earthy to-dayIs the earth of a dusty to-morrow!"It is a little thing of my own. I call it "Heart Foam". Ishall not publish it. Farewell! Patience, Patience, farewell![Exit BUNTHORNE.]PATIENCE What on earth does it all mean? Why does he love me?Why does he expect me to love him? [going R.] He's not arelation! It frightens me![Enter ANGELA, L.]ANGELA Why, Patience, what is the matter?PATIENCE Lady Angela, tell me two things. Firstly, what onearth is this love that upsets everybody; and, secondly, how isit to be distinguished from insanity?ANGELA Poor blind child! Oh, forgive her, Eros! Why, love isof all passions the most essential! It is the embodiment ofpurity, the abstraction of refinement! It is the one unselfishemotion in this whirlpool of grasping greed!PATIENCE Oh, dear, oh! [beginning to cry]ANGELA Why are you crying?PATIENCE To think that I have lived all these years withouthaving experienced this ennobling and unselfish passion! Why,what a wicked girl I must be! For it is unselfish, isn't it?ANGELA Absolutely! Love that is tainted with selfishness is nolove. Oh, try, try, try to love! It really isn't difficult ifyou give your whole mind to it.PATIENCE I'll set about it at once. I won't go to bed until I'mhead over ears in love with somebody.ANGELA Noble girl! But is it possible that you have never lovedanybody?PATIENCE Yes, one.ANGELA Ah! Whom?PATIENCE My great-aunt—ANGELA Great-aunts don't count.PATIENCE Then there's nobody. At least — no, nobody. Notsince I was a baby. But that doesn't count, I suppose.ANGELA I don't know. Tell me about it.
No. 7. Long years ago, fourteen maybe(Duet)Patience and AngelaPATIENCE [R.] Long years ago — fourteen, maybe,When but a tiny babe of four,Another baby played with me,My elder by a year or more;A little child of beauty rare,With marv'lous eyes and wondrous hair,Who, in my child-eyes, seemed to meAll that a little child should be![She goes to ANGELA, L.C.]Ah, how we loved, that child and I!How pure our baby joy!How true our love — and, by the bye,He was a little boy!ANGELA Ah, old, old tale of Cupid's touch!I thought as much — I thought as much!He was a little boy!PATIENCE Pray don't misconstrue what I say—Remember, pray — remember, pray,He was a little boy!ANGELA No doubt! Yet, spite of all your pains,The interesting fact remains -He was a little boy!BOTH Ah, yes, in/No doubt, yet spite of all my/your pains,The interesting fact remains—He was a little boy!He was a little boy![Exit ANGELA, L.]PATIENCE [R.C.] It's perfectly dreadful to think of theappalling state I must be in! I had no idea that love was aduty. No wonder they all look so unhappy! Upon my word, Ihardly like to associate with myself. I don't think I'mrespectable. I'll go at once and fall in love with... [As sheturns to go up R., GROSVENOR enters, R.U.E. She sees him andturns back.] a stranger!