WeRead Powered by ReaderPub
The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan cover

The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan

Chapter 13: ACT I
Open in WeRead

About This Book

This collection gathers fourteen comic operas by William S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan, presenting complete librettos and stage text arranged by acts and scenes. The pieces combine satirical, topsy-turvy plots with witty verse and musical set pieces, featuring parody of institutions, mistaken identities, romantic entanglements, and social comedy. Recurring elements include brisk patter, lyrical numbers, ensemble choruses, and compact dramatic structures that balance farce with moral absurdity. Stage directions, cast lists, and scene breakdowns accompany the texts, making the volume suitable both for readers interested in the librettos themselves and for those preparing performances or studying the mechanics of light opera.





IOLANTHE

  OR

  THE PEER AND THE PERI
                                DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  THE LORD CHANCELLOR
  EARL OF MOUNTARARAT
  EARL TOLLOLLER
  PRIVATE WILLIS (of the Grenadier Guards)
  STREPHON (an Arcadian Shepherd)
  QUEEN OF THE FAIRIES
  IOLANTHE (a Fairy, Strephon's Mother)

  FAIRIES:
       CELIA
       LEILA
       FLETA

  PHYLLIS (an Arcadian Shepherdess and Ward of Chancery)

                                     ACT I

                             An Arcadian Landscape

                                     ACT II

                            Palace Yard, Westminster





ACT I

  SCENE.—An Arcadian Landscape.  A river runs around the back of the
  stage.  A rustic bridge crosses the river.

  Enter Fairies, led by Leila, Celia, and Fleta.  They trip around
  the stage, singing as they dance.

                               CHORUS.

                 Tripping hither, tripping thither,
                 Nobody knows why or whither;
                 We must dance and we must sing
                 Round about our fairy ring!

                            SOLO—CELIA.

                 We are dainty little fairies,
                      Ever singing, ever dancing;
                 We indulge in our vagaries
                      In a fashion most entrancing.
                 If you ask the special function
                      Of our never-ceasing motion,
                 We reply, without compunction,
                      That we haven't any notion!

                               CHORUS.

                      No, we haven't any notion!
                           Tripping hither, etc.

                            SOLO—LEILA.

                 If you ask us how we live,
                 Lovers all essentials give—
                      We can ride on lovers' sighs,
                      Warm ourselves in lovers' eyes,
                      Bathe ourselves in lovers' tears,
                      Clothe ourselves with lovers' fears,
                      Arm ourselves with lovers' darts,
                      Hide ourselves in lovers' hearts.
                 When you know us, you'll discover
                 That we almost live on lover!

                                CHORUS.

                      Yes, we live on lover!
                      Tripping hither, etc.
               (At the end of Chorus, all sigh wearily.)

       CELIA.  Ah, it's all very well, but since our Queen banished
  Iolanthe, fairy revels have not been what they were!

       LEILA.  Iolanthe was the life and soul of Fairyland.  Why, she
  wrote all our songs and arranged all our dances!  We sing her songs
  and we trip her measures, but we don't enjoy ourselves!
       FLETA.  To think that five-and-twenty years have elapsed since
  she was banished!  What could she have done to have deserved so
  terrible a punishment?
       LEILA.  Something awful!  She married a mortal!
       FLETA.  Oh!  Is it injudicious to marry a mortal?
       LEILA.  Injudicious?  It strikes at the root of the whole
  fairy system!  By our laws, the fairy who marries a mortal dies!
       CELIA.  But Iolanthe didn't die!

                      (Enter Fairy Queen.)

       QUEEN.  No, because your Queen, who loved her with a
  surpassing love, commuted her sentence to penal servitude for life,
  on condition that she left her husband and never communicated with
  him again!
       LEILA.  That sentence of penal servitude she is now working
  out, on her head, at the bottom of that stream!
       QUEEN.  Yes, but when I banished her, I gave her all the
  pleasant places of the earth to dwell in.  I'm sure I never
  intended that she should go and live at the bottom of a stream!  It
  makes me perfectly wretched to think of the discomfort she must
  have undergone!
       LEILA.  Think of the damp!  And her chest was always delicate.
       QUEEN.  And the frogs!  Ugh!  I never shall enjoy any peace of
  mind until I know why Iolanthe went to live among the frogs!
       FLETA.  Then why not summon her and ask her?
       QUEEN.  Why?  Because if I set eyes on her I should forgive
  her at once!
       CELIA.  Then why not forgive her?  Twenty-five years—it's a
  long time!
       LEILA.  Think how we loved her!
       QUEEN.  Loved her?  What was your love to mine?  Why, she was
  invaluable to me!  Who taught me to curl myself inside a buttercup?
  Iolanthe!  Who taught me to swing upon a cobweb?  Iolanthe!  Who
  taught me to dive into a dewdrop—to nestle in a nutshell—to
  gambol upon gossamer?  Iolanthe!
       LEILA.  She certainly did surprising things!
       FLETA.  Oh, give her back to us, great Queen, for your sake if
  not for ours!  (All kneel in supplication.)
       QUEEN (irresolute).  Oh, I should be strong, but I am weak!
  I should be marble, but I am clay!  Her punishment has been heavier
  than I intended.  I did not mean that she should live among the
  frogs—and—well, well, it shall be as you wish—it shall be as you
  wish!

                         INVOCATION—QUEEN.

                           Iolanthe!
            From thy dark exile thou art summoned!
                      Come to our call—
                      Come, come, Iolanthe!

  CELIA.                   Iolanthe!

  LEILA.                   Iolanthe!

  ALL.           Come to our call, Iolanthe!
                 Iolanthe, come!

  (Iolanthe rises from the water.  She is clad in water-weeds.  She
  approaches the Queen with head bent and arms crossed.)

  IOLANTHE.      With humbled breast
                      And every hope laid low,
                 To thy behest,
                      Offended Queen, I bow!

  QUEEN.    For a dark sin against our fairy laws
            We sent thee into life-long banishment;
            But mercy holds her sway within our hearts—
            Rise—thou art pardoned!

  IOL.                               Pardoned!

  ALL.                                    Pardoned!

  (Her weeds fall from her, and she appears clothed as a fairy.  The
  Queen places a diamond coronet on her head, and embraces her.  The
  others also embrace her.)

                               CHORUS.

                 Welcome to our hearts again,
                      Iolanthe! Iolanthe!
                 We have shared thy bitter pain,
                      Iolanthe! Iolanthe!

                 Every heart and every hand
                 In our loving little band
                 Welcomes thee to Fairyland,
                      Iolanthe!

       QUEEN.  And now, tell me, with all the world to choose from,
  why on earth did you decide to live at the bottom of that stream?
       IOL.  To be near my son, Strephon.
       QUEEN.  Bless my heart, I didn't know you had a son.
       IOL.  He was born soon after I left my husband by your royal
  command—but he does not even know of his father's existence.
       FLETA.  How old is he?
       IOL.  Twenty-four.
       LEILA.  Twenty-four!  No one, to look at you, would think you
  had a son of twenty-four!  But that's one of the advantages of
  being immortal.  We never grow old!  Is he pretty?
       IOL.  He's extremely pretty, but he's inclined to be stout.
       ALL (disappointed).  Oh!
       QUEEN.  I see no objection to stoutness, in moderation.
       CELIA.  And what is he?
       IOL.  He's an Arcadian shepherd—and he loves Phyllis, a Ward
  in Chancery.
       CELIA.  A mere shepherd! and he half a fairy!
       IOL.  He's a fairy down to the waist—but his legs are mortal.
       ALL.  Dear me!
       QUEEN.  I have no reason to suppose that I am more curious
  than other people, but I confess I should like to see a person who
  is a fairy down to the waist, but whose legs are mortal.
       IOL.  Nothing easier, for here he comes!

  (Enter Strephon, singing and dancing and playing on a flageolet.
  He does not see the Fairies, who retire up stage as he enters.)

                           SONG—STREPHON.

                 Good morrow, good mother!
                      Good mother, good morrow!
                 By some means or other,
                      Pray banish your sorrow!
                           With joy beyond telling
                           My bosom is swelling,
                           So join in a measure
                           Expressive of pleasure,
                 For I'm to be married to-day—to-day—
                      Yes, I'm to be married to-day!

  CHORUS (aside).     Yes, he's to be married to-day—to-day—
                      Yes, he's to be married to-day!

       IOL.  Then the Lord Chancellor has at last given his consent
  to your marriage with his beautiful ward, Phyllis?
       STREPH.  Not he, indeed.  To all my tearful prayers he answers
  me, "A shepherd lad is no fit helpmate for a Ward of Chancery."  I
  stood in court, and there I sang him songs of Arcadee, with
  flageolet accompaniment—in vain.  At first he seemed amused, so
  did the Bar; but quickly wearying of my song and pipe, bade me get
  out.  A servile usher then, in crumpled bands and rusty bombazine,
  led me, still singing, into Chancery Lane!  I'll go no more; I'll
  marry her to-day, and brave the upshot, be it what it may!  (Sees
  Fairies.)  But who are these?
       IOL.  Oh, Strephon!  rejoice with me, my Queen has pardoned
  me!
       STREPH.  Pardoned you, mother?  This is good news indeed.
       IOL.  And these ladies are my beloved sisters.
       STREPH.  Your sisters!  Then they are—my aunts!
       QUEEN.  A pleasant piece of news for your bride on her wedding
  day!
       STREPH.  Hush!  My bride knows nothing of my fairyhood.  I
  dare not tell her, lest it frighten her.  She thinks me mortal, and
  prefers me so.
       LEILA.  Your fairyhood doesn't seem to have done you much
  good.
       STREPH.  Much good!  My dear aunt! it's the curse of my
  existence!  What's the use of being half a fairy?  My body can
  creep through a keyhole, but what's the good of that when my legs
  are left kicking behind?  I can make myself invisible down to the
  waist, but that's of no use when my legs remain exposed to view!
  My brain is a fairy brain, but from the waist downwards I'm a
  gibbering idiot.  My upper half is immortal, but my lower half
  grows older every day, and some day or other must die of old age.
  What's to become of my upper half when I've buried my lower half I
  really don't know!
       FAIRIES.  Poor fellow!
       QUEEN.  I see your difficulty, but with a fairy brain you
  should seek an intellectual sphere of action.  Let me see.  I've a
  borough or two at my disposal.  Would you like to go into
  Parliament?
       IOL.  A fairy Member!  That would be delightful!
       STREPH.  I'm afraid I should do no good there—you see, down
  to the waist, I'm a Tory of the most determined description, but my
  legs are a couple of confounded Radicals, and, on a division,
  they'd be sure to take me into the wrong lobby.  You see, they're
  two to one, which is a strong working majority.
       QUEEN.  Don't let that distress you; you shall be returned as
  a Liberal-Conservative, and your legs shall be our peculiar care.
       STREPH. (bowing).  I see your Majesty does not do things by
  halves.
       QUEEN.  No, we are fairies down to the feet.

                             ENSEMBLE.

  QUEEN.         Fare thee well, attractive stranger.
  FAIRIES.       Fare thee well, attractive stranger.
  QUEEN.         Shouldst thou be in doubt or danger,
                 Peril or perplexitee,
                 Call us, and we'll come to thee!
  FAIRIES.       Aye!  Call us, and we'll come to thee!
                      Tripping hither, tripping thither,
                      Nobody knows why or whither;
                      We must now be taking wing
                      To another fairy ring!

  (Fairies and Queen trip off, Iolanthe, who takes an affectionate
  farewell of her son, going off last.)

  (Enter Phyllis, singing and dancing, and accompanying herself on a
  flageolet.)

                           SONG—PHYLLIS.

                 Good morrow, good lover!
                      Good lover, good morrow!
                 I prithee discover,
                      Steal, purchase, or borrow
                           Some means of concealing
                           The care you are feeling,
                           And join in a measure
                           Expressive of pleasure,
                 For we're to be married to-day—to-day!
                      Yes, we're to be married to-day!

  BOTH.               Yes, we're to be married, etc.

       STREPH. (embracing her).  My Phyllis!  And to-day we are to be
  made happy for ever.
       PHYL.  Well, we're to be married.
       STREPH.  It's the same thing.
       PHYL.  I suppose it is.  But oh, Strephon, I tremble at the
  step I'm taking!  I believe it's penal servitude for life to marry
  a Ward of Court without the Lord Chancellor's consent!  I shall be
  of age in two years.  Don't you think you could wait two years?
       STREPH.  Two years.  Have you ever looked in the glass?
       PHYL.  No, never.
       STREPH.  Here, look at that (showing her a pocket mirror), and
  tell me if you think it rational to expect me to wait two years?
       PHYL. (looking at herself).  No.  You're quite right—it's
  asking too much.  One must be reasonable.
       STREPH.  Besides, who knows what will happen in two years?
  Why, you might fall in love with the Lord Chancellor himself by
  that time!
       PHYL.  Yes.  He's a clean old gentleman.
       STREPH.  As it is, half the House of Lords are sighing at your
  feet.
       PHYL.  The House of Lords are certainly extremely attentive.
       STREPH.  Attentive?  I should think they were!  Why did
  five-and-twenty Liberal Peers come down to shoot over your
  grass-plot last autumn?  It couldn't have been the sparrows.  Why
  did five-and-twenty Conservative Peers come down to fish your pond?
  Don't tell me it was the gold-fish!  No, no—delays are dangerous,
  and if we are to marry, the sooner the better.

                     DUET—STREPHON and PHYLLIS.

  PHYLLIS.       None shall part us from each other,
                      One in life and death are we:
                 All in all to one another—
                      I to thee and thou to me!

  BOTH.          Thou the tree and I the flower—
                      Thou the idol; I the throng—
                 Thou the day and I the hour—
                      Thou the singer; I the song!

  STREPH.        All in all since that fond meeting
                      When, in joy, I woke to find
                 Mine the heart within thee beating,
                      Mine the love that heart enshrined!

  BOTH.          Thou the stream and I the willow—
                      Thou the sculptor; I the clay—
                      Thou the Ocean; I the billow—
                           Thou the sunrise; I the day!

                                      (Exeunt Strephon and Phyllis
  together.)

                     (March.  Enter Procession of Peers.)

                               CHORUS.

                 Loudly let the trumpet bray!
                                     Tantantara!
                      Proudly bang the sounding brasses!
                                     Tzing! Boom!
                 As upon its lordly way
                      This unique procession passes,
                           Tantantara! Tzing! Boom!
                 Bow, bow, ye lower middle classes!
                 Bow, bow, ye tradesmen, bow, ye masses!
                 Blow the trumpets, bang the brasses!
                      Tantantara!  Tzing!  Boom!
                 We are peers of highest station,
                 Paragons of legislation,
                 Pillars of the British nation!
                      Tantantara! Tzing! Boom!

  (Enter the Lord Chancellor, followed by his train-bearer.)

                       SONG—LORD CHANCELLOR.

                 The Law is the true embodiment
                 Of everything that's excellent.
                 It has no kind of fault or flaw,
                 And I, my Lords, embody the Law.
                 The constitutional guardian I
                 Of pretty young Wards in Chancery,
                 All very agreeable girls—and none
                 Are over the age of twenty-one.
                      A pleasant occupation for
                      A rather susceptible Chancellor!

  ALL.                     A pleasant, etc.

                 But though the compliment implied
                 Inflates me with legitimate pride,
                 It nevertheless can't be denied
                 That it has its inconvenient side.
                 For I'm not so old, and not so plain,
                 And I'm quite prepared to marry again,
                 But there'd be the deuce to pay in the Lords
                 If I fell in love with one of my Wards!
                      Which rather tries my temper, for
                      I'm such a susceptible Chancellor!

  ALL.                     Which rather, etc.

                 And every one who'd marry a Ward
                 Must come to me for my accord,
                 And in my court I sit all day,
                 Giving agreeable girls away,
                 With one for him—and one for he—
                 And one for you—and one for ye—
                 And one for thou—and one for thee—
                 But never, oh, never a one for me!
                      Which is exasperating for
                      A highly susceptible Chancellor!

  ALL.                     Which is, etc.

                          (Enter Lord Tolloller.)

       LORD TOLL.  And now, my Lords, to the business of the day.
       LORD CH.  By all means.  Phyllis, who is a Ward of Court, has
  so powerfully affected your Lordships, that you have appealed to me
  in a body to give her to whichever one of you she may think proper
  to select, and a noble Lord has just gone to her cottage to request
  her immediate attendance.  It would be idle to deny that I, myself,
  have the misfortune to be singularly attracted by this young
  person.  My regard for her is rapidly undermining my constitution.
  Three months ago I was a stout man.  I need say no more.  If I
  could reconcile it with my duty, I should unhesitatingly award her
  to myself, for I can conscientiously say that I know no man who is
  so well fitted to render her exceptionally happy.  (Peers: Hear,
  hear!)  But such an award would be open to misconstruction, and
  therefore, at whatever personal inconvenience, I waive my claim.
       LORD TOLL.  My Lord, I desire, on the part of this House, to
  express its sincere sympathy with your Lordship's most painful
  position.
       LORD CH.  I thank your Lordships.  The feelings of a Lord
  Chancellor who is in love with a Ward of Court are not to be
  envied.  What is his position?  Can he give his own consent to his
  own marriage with his own Ward?  Can he marry his own Ward without
  his own consent?  And if he marries his own Ward without his own
  consent, can he commit himself for contempt of his own Court?  And
  if he commit himself for contempt of his own Court, can he appear
  by counsel before himself, to move for arrest of his own judgement?
  Ah, my Lords, it is indeed painful to have to sit upon a woolsack
  which is stuffed with such thorns as these!

                     (Enter Lord Mountararat.)

       LORD MOUNT.  My Lord, I have much pleasure in announcing that
  I have succeeded in inducing the young person to present herself at
  the Bar of this House.

                              (Enter Phyllis.)

                        RECITATIVE—PHYLLIS.

                 My well-loved Lord and Guardian dear,
                 You summoned me, and I am here!

                          CHORUS OF PEERS.

                      Oh, rapture, how beautiful!
                      How gentle—how dutiful!

                        SOLO—LORD TOLLOLLER.

                 Of all the young ladies I know
                      This pretty young lady's the fairest;
                 Her lips have the rosiest show,
                      Her eyes are the richest and rarest.
                 Her origin's lowly, it's true,
                      But of birth and position I've plenty;
                 I've grammar and spelling for two,
                      And blood and behaviour for twenty!
                           Her origin's lowly, it's true,
                           I've grammar and spelling for two;

  CHORUS.        Of birth and position he's plenty,
                 With blood and behaviour for twenty!

                       SOLO—LORD MOUNTARARAT.

            Though the views of the House have diverged
                 On every conceivable motion,
            All questions of Party are merged
                 In a frenzy of love and devotion;
            If you ask us distinctly to say
                 What Party we claim to belong to,
            We reply, without doubt or delay,
                 The Party I'm singing this song to!

                           SOLO—PHYLLIS.

            I'm very much pained to refuse,
                 But I'll stick to my pipes and my tabors;
            I can spell all the words that I use,
                 And my grammar's as good as my neighbours'.
            As for birth—I was born like the rest,
                 My behaviour is rustic but hearty,
            And I know where to turn for the best,
                 When I want a particular Party!

                PHYLLIS, LORD TOLL., and LORD MOUNT.

            Though her station is none of the best,
            I suppose she was born like the rest;
            And she knows where to look for her hearty,
            When she wants a particular Party!

                        RECITATIVE—PHYLLIS.

                      Nay, tempt me not.
                           To rank I'll not be bound;
                      In lowly cot
                           Alone is virtue found!

  CHORUS.   No, no; indeed high rank will never hurt you,
            The Peerage is not destitute of virtue.

                       BALLAD—LORD TOLLOLLER.

                 Spurn not the nobly born
                      With love affected,
                 Nor treat with virtuous scorn
                      The well-connected.
                 High rank involves no shame—
                 We boast an equal claim
                 With him of humble name
                      To be respected!
                 Blue blood! blue blood!
                      When virtuous love is sought
                      Thy power is naught,
                 Though dating from the Flood,
                      Blue blood!  Ah, blue blood!

  CHORUS.        When virtuous love is sought, etc.

                 Spare us the bitter pain
                      Of stern denials,
                 Nor with low-born disdain
                      Augment our trials.
                 Hearts just as pure and fair
                 May beat in Belgrave Square
                 As in the lowly air
                      Of Seven Dials!
                 Blue blood! blue blood!
                      Of what avail art thou
                      To serve us now?
                 Though dating from the Flood,
                      Blue blood!  Ah, blue blood!

  CHORUS.        Of what avail art thou, etc.

                        RECITATIVE—PHYLLIS.

                 My Lords, it may not be.
                      With grief my heart is riven!
                 You waste your time on me,
                      For ah! my heart is given!

  ALL.                     Given!
  PHYL.                    Yes, given!
  ALL.                     Oh, horror!!!

                    RECITATIVE—LORD CHANCELLOR.

            And who has dared to brave our high displeasure,
                 And thus defy our definite command?

  (Enter Strephon.)

  STREPH.   'Tis I—young Strephon! mine this priceless treasure!
                 Against the world I claim my darling's hand!

  (Phyllis rushes to his arms.)

            A shepherd I—
  ALL.                          A shepherd he!
  STREPH.   Of Arcady-
  ALL.                          Of Arcadee!
  STREPH.   Betrothed are we!
  ALL.                          Betrothed are they—
  STREPH.   And mean to be-
  ALL.                          Espoused to-day!

                              ENSEMBLE.

       STREPH.                                 THE OTHERS.

  A shepherd I                            A shepherd he
  Of Arcady,                              Of Arcadee,
  Betrothed are we,                       Betrothed is he,
  And mean to be                          And means to be
       Espoused to-day!                        Espoused to-day!

              DUET—LORD MOUNTARARAT and LORD TOLLOLLER
                       (aside to each other).

                      'Neath this blow,
                           Worse than stab of dagger—
                      Though we mo-
                           Mentarily stagger,
                      In each heart
                           Proud are we innately—
                      Let's depart,
                           Dignified and stately!

  ALL.                Let's depart,
                           Dignified and stately!

                          CHORUS OF PEERS.

                 Though our hearts she's badly bruising,
                 In another suitor choosing,
                 Let's pretend it's most amusing.
                      Ha! ha! ha!  Tan-ta-ra!

  (Exeunt all the Peers, marching round stage with much dignity.
  Lord Chancellor separates Phyllis from Strephon and orders her off.
  She follows Peers.  Manent Lord Chancellor and Strephon.)

       LORD CH.  Now, sir, what excuse have you to offer for having
  disobeyed an order of the Court of Chancery?
       STREPH.  My Lord, I know no Courts of Chancery; I go by
  Nature's Acts of Parliament.  The bees—the breeze—the seas—the
  rooks—the brooks—the gales—the vales—the fountains and the
  mountains cry, "You love this maiden—take her, we command you!"
  'Tis writ in heaven by the bright barbed dart that leaps forth into
  lurid light from each grim thundercloud.  The very rain pours forth
  her sad and sodden sympathy!  When chorused Nature bids me take my
  love, shall I reply, "Nay, but a certain Chancellor forbids it"?
  Sir, you are England's Lord High Chancellor, but are you Chancellor
  of birds and trees, King of the winds and Prince of thunderclouds?
       LORD CH.  No.  It's a nice point.  I don't know that I ever
  met it before.  But my difficulty is that at present there's no
  evidence before the Court that chorused Nature has interested
  herself in the matter.
       STREPH.  No evidence!  You have my word for it.  I tell you
  that she bade me take my love.
       LORD CH.  Ah! but, my good sir, you mustn't tell us what she
  told you—it's not evidence.  Now an affidavit from a thunderstorm,
  or a few words on oath from a heavy shower, would meet with all the
  attention they deserve.
       STREPH.  And have you the heart to apply the prosaic rules of
  evidence to a case which bubbles over with poetical emotion?
       LORD CH.  Distinctly.  I have always kept my duty strictly
  before my eyes, and it is to that fact that I owe my advancement to
  my present distinguished position.

                       SONG—LORD CHANCELLOR.

            When I went to the Bar as a very young man,
                 (Said I to myself—said I),
            I'll work on a new and original plan,
                 (Said I to myself—said I),
            I'll never assume that a rogue or a thief
            Is a gentleman worthy implicit belief,
            Because his attorney has sent me a brief,
                 (Said I to myself—said I!).

            Ere I go into court I will read my brief through
                 (Said I to myself—said I),
            And I'll never take work I'm unable to do
                 (Said I to myself-said I),
            My learned profession I'll never disgrace
            By taking a fee with a grin on my face,
            When I haven't been there to attend to the case
                 (Said I to myself—said I!).

            I'll never throw dust in a juryman's eyes
                 (Said I to myself—said I),
            Or hoodwink a judge who is not over-wise
                 (Said I to myself—said I),
            Or assume that the witnesses summoned in force
            In Exchequer, Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, or Divorce,
            Have perjured themselves as a matter of course
                 (Said I to myself—said I!).

            In other professions in which men engage
                 (Said I to myself said I),
            The Army, the Navy, the Church, and the Stage
                 (Said I to myself—said I),
            Professional licence, if carried too far,
            Your chance of promotion will certainly mar—
            And I fancy the rule might apply to the Bar
                 (Said I to myself—said I!).

                                                      (Exit Lord
  Chancellor.)

                            (Enter Iolanthe)

       STREPH.  Oh, Phyllis, Phyllis!  To be taken from you just as
  I was on the point of making you my own!  Oh, it's too much—it's
  too much!
       IOL. (to Strephon, who is in tears).  My son in tears—and on
  his wedding day!
       STREPH.  My wedding day!  Oh, mother, weep with me, for the
  Law has interposed between us, and the Lord Chancellor has
  separated us for ever!
       IOL.  The Lord Chancellor!  (Aside.)  Oh, if he did but know!
       STREPH. (overhearing her).  If he did but know what?
       IOL.  No matter!  The Lord Chancellor has no power over you.
  Remember you are half a fairy.  You can defy him—down to the
  waist.
       STREPH.  Yes, but from the waist downwards he can commit me to
  prison for years!  Of what avail is it that my body is free, if my
  legs are working out seven years' penal servitude?
       IOL.  True.  But take heart—our Queen has promised you her
  special protection.  I'll go to her and lay your peculiar case
  before her.
       STREPH.  My beloved mother! how can I repay the debt I owe
  you?

                          FINALE—QUARTET.

  (As it commences, the Peers appear at the back, advancing unseen
  and on tiptoe.  Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller lead Phyllis
  between them, who listens in horror to what she hears.)

  STREPH. (to Iolanthe).   When darkly looms the day,
                      And all is dull and grey,
                      To chase the gloom away,
                           On thee I'll call!

  PHYL. (speaking aside to Lord Mountararat).  What was that?

  LORD MOUNT. (aside to Phyllis).
                      I think I heard him say,
                      That on a rainy day,
                      To while the time away,
                           On her he'd call!

  CHORUS.   We think we heard him say, etc.

  (Phyllis much agitated at her lover's supposed faithlessness.)

  IOL. (to Strephon). When tempests wreck thy bark,
                 And all is drear and dark,
                 If thou shouldst need an Ark,
                      I'll give thee one!

  PHYL. (speaking aside to Lord Tolloller).    What was that?

  LORD TOLL. (aside to Phyllis).
                 I heard the minx remark,
                 She'd meet him after dark,
                 Inside St James's Park,
                      And give him one!

  CHORUS.        We heard the minx remark, etc.

  PHYL.          The prospect's very bad.
                 My heart so sore and sad
                 Will never more be glad
                      As summer's sun.

  PHYL., IOL., LORD TOLL., STREPH.
                 The prospect's not so bad,
                 My/Thy heart so sore and sad
                 May very soon be glad
                      As summer's sun;

  PHYL., IOL., LORD TOLL., STEPH., LORD MOUNT.
                 For when the sky is dark
                 And tempests wreck his/thy/my bark,
                      he should
                 If thou shouldst need an Ark,
                      I should
                 She'll    him
                 I'll give thee one!
                           me

  PHYL.  (revealing herself).   Ah!

  (Iolanthe and Strephon much confused.)

  PHYL.          Oh, shameless one, tremble!
                      Nay, do not endeavour
                 Thy fault to dissemble,
                      We part—and for ever!
                 I worshipped him blindly,
                 He worships another—

  STREPH.        Attend to me kindly,
                      This lady's my mother!

  TOLL.          This lady's his what?
  STREPH.        This lady's my mother!
  TENORS.        This lady's his what?
  BASSES.        He says she's his mother!

  (They point derisively to Iolanthe, laughing heartily at her.  She
  goes for protection to Strephon.)

              (Enter Lord Chancellor.  Iolanthe veils herself.)

  LORD CH.       What means this mirth unseemly,
                      That shakes the listening earth?

  LORD TOLL.     The joke is good extremely,
                      And justifies our mirth.

  LORD MOUNT.    This gentleman is seen,
                      With a maid of seventeen,
                 A-taking of his dolce far niente;
                      And wonders he'd achieve,
                      For he asks us to believe
                 She's his mother—and he's nearly five-and-twenty!

  LORD CH. (sternly). Recollect yourself, I pray,
                      And be careful what you say—
                 As the ancient Romans said, festina lente.
                      For I really do not see
                      How so young a girl could be
                 The mother of a man of five-and-twenty.

  ALL.                Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

  STREPH.   My Lord, of evidence I have no dearth—
            She is—has been—my mother from my birth!

                               BALLAD.

                           In babyhood
                      Upon her lap I lay,
                           With infant food
                      She moistened my clay;
                           Had she withheld
                      The succour she supplied,
                           By hunger quelled,
                      Your Strephon might have died!

  LORD CH. (much moved).
                 Had that refreshment been denied,
                 Indeed our Strephon might have died!

  ALL (much affected).
                 Had that refreshment been denied,
                 Indeed our Strephon might have died!

  LORD MOUNT.         But as she's not
                 His mother, it appears,
                      Why weep these hot
                 Unnecessary tears?
                      And by what laws
                 Should we so joyously
                      Rejoice, because
                 Our Strephon did not die?
                 Oh rather let us pipe our eye
                 Because our Strephon did not die!

  ALL.           That's very true—let's pipe our eye
                 Because our Strephon did not die!

  (All weep.  Iolanthe, who has succeeded in hiding her face from
  Lord Chancellor, escapes unnoticed.)

  PHYL.          Go, traitorous one—for ever we must part:
                 To one of you, my Lords, I give my heart!

  ALL.                     Oh, rapture!

  STREPH.        Hear me, Phyllis, ere you leave me.

  PHYL.          Not a word—you did deceive me.

  ALL.           Not a word—you did deceive her.
                                                             (Exit
  Strephon.)

                          BALLAD—PHYLLIS.

            For riches and rank I do not long—
                 Their pleasures are false and vain;
            I gave up the love of a lordly throng
                 For the love of a simple swain.
            But now that simple swain's untrue,
            With sorrowful heart I turn to you—
                 A heart that's aching,
                 Quaking, breaking,
            As sorrowful hearts are wont to do!

            The riches and rank that you befall
                 Are the only baits you use,
            So the richest and rankiest of you all
                 My sorrowful heart shall choose.
            As none are so noble—none so rich
            As this couple of lords, I'll find a niche
                 In my heart that's aching,
                 Quaking, breaking,
            For one of you two-and I don't care which!

                              ENSEMBLE.

  PHYL. (to Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller).
            To you I give my heart so rich!
  ALL (puzzled).                To which?
  PHYL.          I do not care!
       To you I yield—it is my doom!
  ALL.                          To whom?
  PHYL.          I'm not aware!
       I'm yours for life if you but choose.
  ALL.                          She's whose?
  PHYL.          That's your affair!
       I'll be a countess, shall I not?
  ALL.                          Of what?
  PHYL.          I do not care!
  ALL.      Lucky little lady!
            Strephon's lot is shady;
            Rank, it seems, is vital,
            "Countess" is the title,
            But of what I'm not aware!

                          (Enter Strephon.)

  STREPH.   Can I inactive see my fortune fade?
                           No, no!

  PEERS.                   Ho, ho!

  STREPH.   Mighty protectress, hasten to my aid!

  (Enter Fairies, tripping, headed by Celia, Leila, and Fleta, and
  followed by Queen.)

  CHORUS    Tripping hither, tripping thither.
    OF      Nobody knows why or whither;
  FAIRIES   Why you want us we don't know,
            But you've summoned us, and so
                 Enter all the little fairies
                      To their usual tripping measure!
                 To oblige you all our care is—
                      Tell us, pray, what is your pleasure!

  STREPH.   The lady of my love has caught me talking to another—
  PEERS.         Oh, fie! young Strephon is a rogue!
  STREPH.   I tell her very plainly that the lady is my mother—
  PEERS.         Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
  STREPH.   She won't believe my statement, and declares we must be
  parted,
            Because on a career of double-dealing I have started,
            Then gives her hand to one of these, and leaves me
  broken-hearted—
  PEERS.         Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
  QUEEN.    Ah, cruel ones, to separate two lovers from each other!
  FAIRIES.       Oh, fie! our Strephon's not a rogue!
  QUEEN.    You've done him an injustice, for the lady is his mother!
  FAIRIES.       Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
  LORD CH.  That fable perhaps may serve his turn as well as any
  other.
       (Aside.)  I didn't see her face, but if they fondled one
  another,
            And she's but seventeen—I don't believe it was his
  mother!
                 Taradiddle, taradiddle.
  ALL.           Tol lol lay!

  LORD TOLL.     I have often had a use
                 For a thorough-bred excuse
            Of a sudden (which is English for "repente"),
                 But of all I ever heard
                 This is much the most absurd,
            For she's seventeen, and he is five-and-twenty!

  ALL.      Though she is seventeen, and he is four or
  five-and-twenty!
                 Oh, fie! our Strephon is a rogue!

  LORD MOUNT.    Now, listen, pray to me,
                 For this paradox will be
            Carried, nobody at all contradicente.
                 Her age, upon the date
                 Of his birth, was minus eight,
            If she's seventeen, and he is five-and-twenty!

  PEERS and FAIRIES.  If she is seventeen, and he is only
  five-and-twenty.

  ALL.      To say she is his mother is an utter bit of folly!
                 Oh, fie! our Strephon is a rogue!
            Perhaps his brain is addled, and it's very melancholy!
                 Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!
            I wouldn't say a word that could be reckoned as
  injurious,
            But to find a mother younger than her son is very
  curious,
            And that's a kind of mother that is usually spurious.
                 Taradiddle, taradiddle, tol lol lay!

  LORD CH.            Go away, madam;
                      I should say, madam,
                      You display, madam,
                           Shocking taste.

                      It is rude, madam,
                      To intrude, madam,
                      With your brood, madam,
                           Brazen-faced!

                      You come here, madam,
                      Interfere, madam,
                      With a peer, madam.
                           (I am one.)

                      You're aware, madam,
                      What you dare, madam,
                      So take care, madam,
                           And begone!

                              ENSEMBLE

  FAIRIES (to QUEEN).                          PEERS
  Let us stay, madam;                Go away, madam;
  I should say, madam,               I should say, madam,
  They display, madam,               You display, madam,
       Shocking taste.                    Shocking taste.

  It is rude, madam,                 It is rude, madam,
  To allude, madam,                  To intrude, madam,
  To your brood, madam,              With your brood, madam,
       Brazen-faced!                      Brazen-faced!

  We don't fear, madam,              You come here, madam,
  Any peer, madam,                   Interfere, madam,
  Though, my dear madam,             With a peer, madam,
       This is one.                   (I am one.)

  They will stare, madam,            You're aware, madam,
  When aware, madam,                 What you dare, madam,
  What they dare, madam—            So take care, madam,
       What they've done!                 And begone!

  QUEEN.         Bearded by these puny mortals!
   (furious).    I will launch from fairy portals
                 All the most terrific thunders
                 In my armoury of wonders!

  PHYL. (aside). Should they launch terrific wonders,
                 All would then repent their blunders.
                 Surely these must be immortals.
                                                              (Exit
  Phyllis.)

  QUEEN.         Oh! Chancellor unwary
                 It's highly necessary
                      Your tongue to teach
                      Respectful speech—
                 Your attitude to vary!

                 Your badinage so airy,
                 Your manner arbitrary,
                      Are out of place
                      When face to face
                 With an influential Fairy.

  ALL THE PEERS       We never knew
   (aside).           We were talking to
                 An influential Fairy!

  LORD CH.       A plague on this vagary,
                 I'm in a nice quandary!
                      Of hasty tone
                      With dames unknown
                 I ought to be more chary;
                 It seems that she's a fairy
                 From Andersen's library,
                      And I took her for
                      The proprietor
                 Of a Ladies' Seminary!

  PEERS.              We took her for
                      The proprietor
                 Of a Ladies' Seminary!

  QUEEN.    When next your Houses do assemble,
                      You may tremble!

  CELIA.    Our wrath, when gentlemen offend us,
                      Is tremendous!

  LEILA.    They meet, who underrate our calling,
                      Doom appalling!

  QUEEN.    Take down our sentence as we speak it,
                      And he shall wreak it!
                                                       (Indicating
  Strephon.)
  PEERS.    Oh, spare us!

  QUEEN.    Henceforth, Strephon, cast away
            Crooks and pipes and ribbons so gay—
            Flocks and herds that bleat and low;
            Into Parliament you shall go!

  ALL.      Into Parliament he shall go!
                 Backed by our supreme authority,
                 He'll command a large majority!
            Into Parliament he shall go!

  QUEEN.    In the Parliamentary hive,
                 Liberal or Conservative—
                 Whig or Tory—I don't know—
            But into Parliament you shall go!

  ALL.      Into Parliament, etc.

                  QUEEN (speaking through music).

            Every bill and every measure
            That may gratify his pleasure,
            Though your fury it arouses,
                 Shall be passed by both your Houses!

  PEERS.         Oh!
  QUEEN.    You shall sit, if he sees reason,
            Through the grouse and salmon season;
  PEERS.         No!
  QUEEN.    He shall end the cherished rights
            You enjoy on Friday nights:
  PEERS.         No!
  QUEEN.    He shall prick that annual blister,
            Marriage with deceased wife's sister:
  PEERS.         Mercy!
  QUEEN.    Titles shall ennoble, then,
            All the Common Councilmen:
  PEERS.         Spare us!
  QUEEN.    Peers shall teem in Christendom,
                 And a Duke's exalted station
            Be attainable by Com-
                 Petitive Examination!

       PEERS.              FAIRIES and PHYLLIS.

  Oh, horror!                   Their horror
                           They can't dissemble
                      Nor hide the fear that makes them
                                tremble!

                              ENSEMBLE.

            PEERS                FAIRIES, PHYLLIS, and STREPHON.

  Young Strephon is the kind of lout With Strephon for your foe, no
  doubt,
  We do not care a fig about!        A fearful prospect opens out,
            We cannot say                 And who shall say
            What evils may                What evils may
       Result in consequence.             Result in consequence?

  But lordly vengeance will pursue   A hideous vengeance will pursue
  All kinds of common people who     All noblemen who venture to
            Oppose our views,                  Opppose his views,
            Or boldly choose                   Or boldly choose
       To offer us offence.               To offer him offence.

  He'd better fly at humbler game,   'Twill plunge them into grief
  and shame;
  Or our forbearance he must claim,  His kind forbearance they must
  claim,
            If he'd escape                If they'd escape
            In any shape                  In any shape
       A very painful wrench!             A very painful wrench.

  Your powers we dauntlessly pooh-pooh:   Although our threats you
  now pooh-pooh,
  A dire revenge will fall on you.   A dire revenge will fall on you,
            If you besiege                Should he besiege
            Our high prestige—           Your high prestige—
  (The word "prestige" is French).   The word "prestige" is French).

  PEERS.         Our lordly style
                      You shall not quench
                 With base canaille!
  FAIRIES.            (That word is French.)
  PEERS.         Distinction ebbs
                      Before a herd
                 Of vulgar plebs!
  FAIRIES.            (A Latin word.)
  PEERS.         'Twould fill with joy,
                      And madness stark
                 The hoi polloi!

  FAIRIES.            (A Greek remark.)

  PEERS.    One Latin word, one Greek remark,
            And one that's French.

  FAIRIES.  Your lordly style
                 We'll quickly quench
            With base canaille!
  PEERS.         (That word is French.)
  FAIRIES.  Distinction ebbs
                 Before a herd
            Of vulgar plebs!
  PEERS.         (A Latin word.)
  FAIRIES.  'Twill fill with joy
                 And madness stark
            The hoi polloi!
  PEERS.         (A Greek remark.)

  FAIRIES.  One Latin word, one Greek remark,
            And one that's French.

       PEERS.                        FAIRIES.

    You needn't wait:             We will not wait:
         Away you fly!                 We go sky-high!
    Your threatened hate          Our threatened hate
         We won't defy!                You won't defy!

  (Fairies threaten Peers with their wands.  Peers kneel as begging
  for merry.  Phyllis implores Strephon to relent.  He casts her from
  him, and she falls fainting into the arms of Lord Mountararat and
  Lord Tolloller.)

                            END OF ACT I