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

The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan

Chapter 25: RUDDIGORE
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.

  Hildebd:          Release Hilarion, then,
                    And be his bride
                    Or you'll incur the guilt of fratricide!

  Princess:         To yield at once to such a foe
                          With shame we're rife;
                    So quick! away with him, although
                          He sav'd my life!
                    That he is fair, and strong, and tall
                    Is very evident to all,
                    Yet I will die,
                    Yet I will die, before I call myself his

  Princess:                     All Others:
       wife! - —-                  Oh, yield at once, 'twere better
  so,
       - - - —-                    Than risk a strife!
                                    And let the Prince Hilarion go.
                                    He Saved thy life!
       That                         Hi-
       he is                        la-rion's
       fair and                     fair,
       strong and                   and
       tall,                        strong and tall,
       tall,
       Is - - - - -
       - - - - - -                  A
       very                         worse mis-
       evi-                         for-
       dent to                      tune
       all,                         might befall.
       Yet
       I will                       It's
       die, will die before I call  not so dreadful after all,
       Myself his wife!             To be his wife!
       Though I am but a girl
       Defiance thus I hurl
       Our banners all
       On outer wall
       We fearlessly unfurl

  (The Princess stands, surrounded by girls kneeling.  Hildebrand and
       soldiers stand on built rocks at back and sides of stage.
       Picture.)
                                   END OF ACT II





ACT III

  SCENE — Outer Walls and Courtyard of Castle Adamant.  Melissa,
               SachaRissa, and ladies discovered, armed with
               battleaxes.

                                      CHORUS
                              "Death to the Invader!"

  Chorus:           Death to the invader!
                          Strike a deadly blow,
                    As an old Crusader
                          Struck his Paynim foe!
                                Let our martial thunder
                                Fill his soul with wonder,
                                Tear his ranks asunder,
                                      Lay the tyrant low!
                    Death to the invader!
                          Strike a deadly blow,
                    As an old Crusader
                          Struck his Paynim foe!

  Melissa:          Thus our courage, all untarnish'd,
                          We're instructed to display;
                    But to tell the truth unvarnish'd,
                          We are more inclined to say,
                    "Please you, do not hurt us,"

  All:                    "Do not hurt us, if it please you!"

  Melissa:          "Please you let us be."

  All:                    "Let us be — let us be!"

  Melissa:          "Soldiers disconcert us."

  All:                    "Disconcert us, if it please you!"

  Melissa:          "Frighten'd maids are we!"

  All:                    "Maids are we, maids are we!"

  Melissa:          Please you,

  All:                    Do not hurt us;

  Melissa:          Please you,

  All:                    Let us be.

  Mel & Cho:        Frighten'd maids are we, frighten'd maids are we!

  Melissa:          But 'twould be an error
                    To confess our terror,
                    So in Ida's name,
                    Boldly we exclaim:

  Mel & Cho:        Death to the invader!
                          Strike a deadly blow,
                    As an old Crusader
                          Struck his Paynim foe!

  (Flourish.  Enter Princess, armed, attended by Blanche and Psyche.)

  Princess:    I like your spirit, girls!  We have to meet
               Stern bearded warriors in fight to-day;
               Wear naught but what is necessary to
               Preserve your dignity before their eyes,
               And give your limbs full play.

  Blanche:                            One moment, ma'am,
               Here is a paradox we should not pass
               Without inquiry.  We are prone to say
               "This thing is Needful — that, Superfluous"—
               Yet they invariably co-exist!
               We find the Needful comprehended in
               The circle of the grand Superfluous,
               Yet the Superfluous cannot be brought
               Unless you're amply furnished with the Needful.
               These singular considerations are—

  Princess:    Superfluous, yet not Needful — so you see
               The terms may independently exist.
  (To Ladies)       Women of Adamant, we have to show
               That women, educated to the task,
               Can meet Man, face to face, on his own ground,
               And beat him there.  Now, let us set to work;
               Where is our lady surgeon?

  Sach.:                                    Madam, here!

  Princess:    We shall require your skill to heal the wounds
               Of those that fall.

  Sach.:       (Alarmed)        What, heal the wounded?

  Princess:                                             Yes!

  Sach.:       And cut off real live legs and arms?

  Princess:                                 Of course!

  Sach.:       I wouldn't do it for a thousand pounds!

  Princess:    Why, how is this?  Are you faint-hearted, girl?
               You've often cut them off in theory!

  Sach.:       In theory I'll cut them off again
               With pleasure, and as often as you like,
               But not in practice.

  Princess:                           Coward!  Get you hence,
               I've craft enough for that, and courage too,
               I'll do your work!  My fusiliers, advance!,
               Why, you are armed with axes!  Gilded toys!
               Where are your rifles, pray?

  Chloe:                              Why, please you, ma'am,
               We left them in the armoury, for fear
               That in the heat and turmoil of the fight,
               They might go off!

  Princess:                     "They might!"  Oh, craven souls!
               Go off yourselves!  Thank heaven I have a heart
               That quails not at the thought of meeting men;
               I will discharge your rifles!  Off with you!

  (Exit Chloe)
               Where's my bandmistress?

  Ada:                          Please you, ma'am, the band
               Do not feel well, and can't come out today!

  Princess:    Why, this is flat rebellion!  I've no time
               To talk to them just now. But, happily,
               I can play several instruments at once,
               And I will drown the shrieks of those that fall
               With trumpet music, such as soldiers love!
               How stand we with respect to gunpowder?
               My Lady Psyche — you who superintend
               Our lab'ratory — are you well prepared
               To blow these bearded rascals into shreds?

  Psyche:      Why, madam—

  Princess:                     Well?

  Psyche:                             Let us try gentler means.
               We can dispense with fulminating grains
               While we have eyes with which to flash our rage!
               We can dispense with villainous saltpetre
               While we have tongues with which to blow them up!
               We can dispense, in short, with all the arts
               That brutalize the practical polemist!

  Princess:    (Contemptuously)       I never knew a more dispensing
                                            chemist!
               Away, away — I'll meet these men alone
               Since all my women have deserted me!

                                    (Exeunt all but Princess, singing
  refrain of
                                      "Please you, do not hurt us",
  pianissimo.)

  Princess:    So fail my cherished plans — so fails my faith—
               And with it hope, and all that comes of hope!

                                  Song - Princess
                               "I Built upon a Rock"

  Princess:         I built upon a rock,
                          But ere Destruction's hand
                                Dealt equal lot
                                To Court and cot,
                          My rock had turn'd to sand!
                    I leant upon an oak,
                          But in the hour of need,
                                Alack-a-day,
                                My trusted stay
                          Was but a bruis-ed reed!
                          A bruis-ed reed!
                                Ah faithless rock,
                                My simple faith to mock!
                                Ah trait'rous oak,
                                Thy worthlessness to cloak,
                                Thy worthlessness to cloak!

                    I drew a sword of steel
                          But when to home and hearth
                                The battle's breath
                                Bore fire and death,
                          My sword was but a lath!
                    I lit a beacon fire,
                          But on a stormy day
                                Of frost and rime,
                                In wintertime,
                          My fire had died away,
                          Had died away!
                                Ah, coward steel,
                                That fear can un-anneal!
                                False fire indeed,
                                To fail me in my need,
                                To fail me in my need!

  (Princess Sinks upon a rock.  Enter Chloe and all the Ladies)

  Chloe:       Madam, your father and your brothers claim
               An audience!

  Princess:               What do they do here?

  Chloe:                                          They come
               To fight for you!

  Princess:               Admit them!

  Blanche:                                        Infamous!
               One's brothers, ma'am, are men!

  Princess:                                 So I have heard.
               But all my women seem to fail me when
               I need them most.  In this emergency,
               Even one's brothers may be turned to use.

  Gama:        (Entering, pale and unnerved)  My daughter!

  Princess:               Father!  Thou art free!

  Gama:                                           Aye, free!
               Free as a tethered ass!  I come to thee
               With words from Hildebrand.  Those duly given
               I must return to blank captivity.
               I'm free so far.

  Princess:                     Your message.

  Gama:                                           Hildebrand
               Is loth to war with women.  Pit my sons,
               My three brave sons, against these popinjays,
               These tufted jack-a-dandy featherheads,
               And on the issue let thy hand depend!

  Princess:    Insult on insult's head!  Are we a stake
               For fighting men?  What fiend possesses thee,
               That thou has come with offers such as these
               From such as he to such an one as I?

  Gama:        I am possessed
               By the pale devil of a shaking heart!
               My stubborn will is bent.  I dare not face
               That devilish monarch's black malignity!
               He tortures me with torments worse than death,
               I haven't anything to grumble at!
               He finds out what particular meats I love,
               And gives me them.  The very choicest wines,
               The costliest robes — the richest rooms are mine.
               He suffers none to thwart my simplest plan,
               And gives strict orders none should contradict me!
               He's made my life a curse!  (Weeps)

  Princess:                                       My tortured father!

                       SONG (King GAMA with CHORUS of GIRLS)
                                "Whene'er I Spoke"

  Gama:             Whene'er I poke
                    Sarcastic joke
                          Replete with malice spiteful,
                    This people mild
                    Politely smil'd,
                          And voted me delightful!

                    Now, when a wight
                    Sits up all night
                          Ill-natur'd jokes devising,
                    And all his wiles
                    Are met with smiles
                          It's hard, there's no disguising!

               Ah!  Oh, don't the days seem lank and long
               When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
               And isn't your life extremely flat
               With nothing whatever to grumble at!

  Chorus:      Oh, isn't your life extremely flat
               With nothing whatever to grumble at!

  Gama:                   When German bands
                          From music stands
                    Play'd Wagner imperfectly —
                          I bade them go—
                          They didn't say no,
                    But off they went directly!
                          The organ boys
                          They stopp'd their noise,
                    With readiness surprising,
                          And grinning herds
                          Of hurdy-gurds
                    Retired apologising!
               Ah! Oh, don't the days seem lank and long
               When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
               And isn't your life extremely flat
               With nothing whatever to grumble at!

  Chorus:      Oh, isn't your life extremely flat
               With nothing whatever to grumble at!

  Gama:                   I offer'd gold
                          In sums untold
                    To all who'd contradict me—
                          I said I'd pay
                          A pound a day
                    To any one who kick'd me—
                          I've brib'd with toys
                          Great vulgar boys
                    To utter something spiteful,
                          But, bless you, no!
                          They would be so
                    Confoundedly politeful!

               Ah! In short, these aggravating lads,
               They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads,
               They give me this and they give me that,
               And I've nothing whatever to grumble at!

  Chorus:      Oh, isn't your life extremely flat
               With nothing whatever to grumble at!

                           (Gama Bursts into tears and falls sobbing
  on a seat.)

  Princess:    My poor old father!  How he must have suffered!
               Well, well, I yield!

  Gama:        (Hysterically)  She yields!  I'm saved, I'm saved!
       (Exit)

  Princess:    Open the gates — admit these warriors,
               Then get you all within the castle walls.
       (Exit)

                (The gates are opened and the Girls mount the
  battlements as the
                         Soldiers enter.  Arac, Guron and Scynthius
  also enter.)

                                Chorus of Soldiers
                           "When anger spreads his wing"

  Chorus:           When anger spread his wing,
                          And all seems dark as night for it,
                          There's nothing but to fight for it,
                    But ere you pitch your ring,
                          Select a pretty site for it,
                          (This spot is suited quite for it,)
                    And then you gaily sing,
                    And then you gaily sing:

                    "Oh I love the jolly rattle
                    Of an orde-al by battle,
                    There's an end of tittle-tattle
                          When your enemy is dead.
                    It's an arrant molly-coddle
                    Fears a crack upon his noddle
                    And he's only fit to swaddle
                          In a downy feather-bed!

  Ladies:   For a               Soldiers:   Oh, I
            fight's                         love the
            a                               jolly
            kind                            rattle
            of                              Of an
            thing                           orde-al by battle
            That I                          There's an
            love                            end of
            to                              tittle
            look                            tattle,
            up-                             When your
            on,                             enemy is dead.
            So                              It's an
            let                             arrant
            us                              molly-
            sing,                           coddle
            Long                            Fears a
            live                            crack upon
            the                             his
            King,                           noddle,
            And his                         And he's
            son                             only fit to
            Hi-                             swaddle, In a
            la-                             downy fea-
            ri-on!                          ther bed!

                                  (During this, Hilarion, Florian,
  and Cyril are
                                   brought out by the "Daughters of
  the Plough".
                                        They are still bound and wear
  the robes.

  Enter GAMA.)

  Gama:        Hilarion!  Cyril!  Florian!  dressed as women!
               Is this indeed Hilarion?

  Hilar.:                                   Yes, it is!

  Gama:        Why, you look handsome in your women's clothes!
               Stick to 'em!  Men's attire becomes you not!
  (To CYRIL and FLORIAN)  And you, young ladies, will you please to
  pray
               King Hildebrand to set me free again?
               Hang on his neck and gaze into his eyes,
               He never could resist a pretty face!

  Hilar.:      You dog, you'll find, though I wear woman's garb,
               My sword is long and sharp!

  Gama:                                     Hush, pretty one!
               Here's a virago!  Here's a termagant!
               If length and sharpness go for anything,
               You'll want no sword while you can wag your tongue!

  Cyril:       What need to waste your words on such as he?
               He's old and crippled.

  Gama:                                     Aye, but I've three sons,
               Fine fellows, young and muscular, and brave,
               They're well worth talking to!  Come, what d'ye say?

  Arac:        Aye, pretty ones, engage yourselves with us,
               If three rude warriors affright you not!

  Hilar.:      Old as you are, I'd wring your shrivelled neck
               If you were not the Princess Ida's father.

  Gama:        If I were not the Princess Ida's father,
               And so had not her brothers for my sons,
               No doubt you'd wring my neck — in safety too!
               Come, come, Hilarion, begin, begin!
               Give them no quarter — they will give you none.
               You've this advantage over warriors
               Who kill their country's enemies for pay,—
               You know what you are fighting for — look there!
                                         (Pointing to Ladies on the
  battlements)

                        (Exit Gamma.  Hilarion, Florian, and Cyril
  are led off.)

                     SONG (Arac, Guron, Scynthius and Chorus)
                             "This Helmet, I Suppose"

  Arac:             This helmet, I suppose,
                    Was meant to ward off blows,
                          It's very hot
                          And weighs a lot,
                    As many a guardsman knows,
                    As many a guardsman knows,
                    As many a guardsman knows,
                    As many a guardsman knows,
                    So off, so off that helmet goes.

  Others:                 Yes, yes, yes,
                    So off that helmet goes!

                                            (Giving their helmets to
  attendants)

  Arac:             This tight-fitting cuirass
                    Is but a useless mass,
                          It's made of steel,
                          And weighs a deal,
                    This tight-fitting cuirass
                    Is but a useless mass,
                    A man is but an ass
                    Who fights in a cuirass,
                    So off, so off goes that cuirass.

  Others:                 Yes, yes, yes,
                    So off goes that cuirass!
                                                            (Removing
  cuirasses)

  Arac:             These brassets, truth to tell,
                    May look uncommon well,
                          But in a fight
                          They're much too tight,
                    They're like a lobster shell,
                    They're like a lobster shell!

  Others:                 Yes, yes, yes,
                    They're like a lobster shell.
                                                       (Removing
  their brassets)

  Arac:             These things I treat the same
                              (indicating leg pieces)
                    (I quite forget their name.)
                          They turn one's legs
                          To cribbage pegs—
                    Their aid I thus disclaim,
                    Their aid I thus disclaim,
                    Though I forget their name,
                    Though I forget their name,
                    Their aid, their aid I thus disclaim!

  Others:                 Yes, yes, yes,
  All:              Their aid (we/they) thus disclaim!

  (They remove their leg pieces and wear close-fitting shape suits.)

                        Enter Hilarion, Florian, and Cyril

                        (Desperate fight between the three Princes
  and the three
                         Knights, during which the Ladies on the
  battlements and
                           the Soldiers on the stage sing the
  following chorus):

                              CHORUS DURING THE FIGHT
                                "This is our Duty"

  Chorus:           This is our duty plain towards
                          Our Princess all immaculate,
                    We ought to bless her brothers' swords,
                          And piously ejaculate:
                                Oh, Hungary!
                                Oh, Hungary!
                          Oh, doughty sons of Hungary!
                                May all success
                                Attend and bless
                          Your warlike ironmongery!

                    Hilarion! Hilarion! Hilarion!

                                   (By this time, Arac, Guron, and
  Scynthius are
                                   on the ground, wounded —
  Hilarion, Cyril and
                                                       Florian stand
  over them.)

  Princess:    (Entering through gate and followed by Ladies,
                    Hildebrand, and Gama.)
               Hold! stay your hands! — we yield ourselves to you!
               Ladies, my brothers all lie bleeding there!
               Bind up their wounds — but look the other way.
               (Coming down) Is this the end?  (Bitterly to Lady
  Blanche)
               How say you, Lady Blanche—
               Can I with dignity my post resign?
               And if I do, will you then take my place?

  Blanche:     To answer this, it's meet that we consult
               The great Potential Mysteries;  I mean
               The five Subjunctive Possibilities—
               The May, the Might, the Would, the Could, the Should.
               Can you resign?  The Prince May claim you; if
               He Might, you Could — and if you Should, I Would!

  Princess:    I thought as much!  Then to my fate I yield—
               So ends my cherished scheme!  Oh, I had hoped
               To band all women with my maiden throng,
               And make them all abjure tyrannic Man!

  Hildebd:     A noble aim!

  Princess:                     You ridicule it now;
               But if I carried out this glorious scheme,
               At my exalted name Posterity
               Would bow in gratitude!

  Hildebd:                                                   But pray
  reflect —
               If you enlist all women in your cause,
               And make them all abjure tyrannic Man,
               The obvious question then arises, "How
               Is this Posterity to be provided?"

  Princess:    I never thought of that!  My Lady Blanche,
               How do you solve the riddle?

  Blanche:                                  Don't ask me —
               Abstract Philosophy won't answer it.
               Take him — he is your Shall.  Give in to Fate!

  Princess:    And you desert me.  I alone am staunch!

  Hilarion:    Madam, you placed your trust in Woman — well,
               Woman has failed you utterly — try Man,
               Give him one chance, it's only fair — besides,
               Women are far too precious, too divine,
               To try unproven theories upon.
               Experiments, the proverb says, are made
               On humble subjects — try our grosser clay,
               And mould it as you will!

  Cyril:                                    Remember, too
               Dear Madam, if at any time you feel
               A-weary of the Prince, you can return
               To Castle Adamant, and rule your girls
               As heretofore, you know.

  Princess:                                 And shall I find
               The Lady Psyche here?

  Psyche:                                   If Cyril, ma'am,
               Does not behave himself, I think you will.

  Princess:    And you Melissa, shall I find you here?

  Melissa:     Madam, however Florian turns out,
               Unhesitatingly I answer, No!

  Gama:        Consider this, my love, if your mama
               Had looked on matters from your point of view
               (I wish she had), why where would you have been?

  Blanche:     There's an unbounded field of speculation,
               On which I could discourse for hours!

  Princess:                                 No doubt!
               We will not trouble you.  Hilarion,
               I have been wrong —  I see my error now.
               Take me, Hilarion — "We will walk this world
               Yoked in all exercise of noble end!
               And so through those dark gates across the wild
               That no one knows!"  Indeed, I love thee — Come!

                                      Finale
                                "With joy abiding"

  Princess:         With joy abiding,
                    Together gliding
                          Through life's variety,
                          In sweet society,
                    And thus enthroning
                    The love I'm owning,
                    On this atoning
                          I will rely!

  Chorus:           It were profanity
                    For poor humanity
                    To treat as vanity
                          The sway of Love.
                    In no locality
                    Or principality
                    Is our mortality
                          It's sway above!

  Hilarion:         When day is fading,
                    With serenading
                          And such frivolity
                          Of tender quality—
                    With scented showers
                    Of fairest flowers,
                    The happy hours
                          Will gaily fly!
                    The happy hours will gaily fly!

  Chorus:           It were profanity
                    For poor humanity
                    To treat as vanity
                          The sway of Love.
                    In no locality
                    Or principality
                    Is our mortality
                          It's sway above!

  1st Sops:    In no lo-                    Others:
               cality Or princi-            Its
               pality Is our mor-                 sway
               tality It's sway a-                a-
               bove!                              bove!

  Princess &   With scented           Others:
  Hilarion:    showers Of fairest                 Its
               flowers, The happy                 sway
               hours will gaily                   a-
               fly!                               bove!

  All:         In no locality
               Or principality
               Is our mortality
               Above the sway of love!
                                      Curtain





RUDDIGORE

  or

  The Witch's Curse
  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  MORTALS

  SIR RUTHVEN MURGATROYD (disguised as Robin Oakapple, a Young
       Farmer)
  RICHARD DAUNTLESS (his Foster-Brother, a Man-o'-war's man)
  SIR DESPARD MURGATROYD, OF RUDDIGORE (a Wicked Baronet)
  OLD ADAM GOODHEART (Robin's Faithful Servant)
  ROSE MAYBUD (a Village Maiden)
  MAD MARGARET
  DAME HANNAH (Rose's Aunt)
  ZORAH and RUTH (Professional Bridesmaids)

                               GHOSTS

  SIR RUPERT MURGATROYD (the First Baronet)
  SIR JASPER MURGATROYD (the Third Baronet)
  SIR LIONEL MURGATROYD (the Sixth Baronet)
  SIR CONRAD MURGATROYD (the Twelfth Baronet)
  SIR DESMOND MURGATROYD (the Sixteenth Baronet)
  SIR GILBERT MURGATROYD (the Eighteenth Baronet)
  SIR MERVYN MURGATROYD (the Twentieth Baronet)
                 and
  SIR RODERIC MURGATROYD (the Twenty-first Baronet)

  Chorus of Officers, Ancestors, Professional Bridesmaids, and
       Villagers

                                ACT I

            The Fishing Village of Rederring, in Cornwall

                               ACT II

               The Picture Gallery in Ruddigore Castle

                                TIME

                      Early in the 19th Century





ACT I