No. 8. Prithee, pretty maiden
                               (Duet)
                       Patience and Grosvenor

  GROSVENOR [up-stage, R. ]  Prithee, pretty maiden — prithee,
  tell me true,
            (Hey, but I'm doleful, willow willow waly!)
       Have you e'er a lover a-dangling after you?
            Hey willow waly O!
       [coming down-stage]

                 I would fain discover
                 If you have a lover!
            Hey willow waly O!

  PATIENCE  [L.] Gentle sir, my heart is frolicsome and free—
            (Hey, but he's doleful, willow willow waly!)
       Nobody I care for comes a-courting me—
            Hey willow waly O!
                 Nobody I care for
                 Comes a-courting — therefore,
            Hey willow waly O!

  GROSVENOR [C.] Prithee, pretty maiden, will you marry me?
            (Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow willow waly!)
       I may say, at once, I'm a man of propertee—
            Hey willow waly O!
                 Money, I despise it;
                 Many people prize it,
            Hey willow waly O!

  PATIENCE  Gentle Sir, although to marry I design—
            (Hey, but he's hopeful, willow willow waly!)
       As yet I do not know you, and so I must decline.
            Hey willow waly O!
                 To other maidens go you—
                 As yet I do not know you,

  BOTH      Hey willow waly O!
  GROS.  Patience!  Can it be that you don't recognize me?

  PATIENCE [down L.]  Recognize you?  No, indeed I don't!

  GROS.  Have fifteen years so greatly changed me?

  PATIENCE [turning to him]  Fifteen years?  What do you mean?

  GROS.  Have you forgotten the friend of your youth, your
  Archibald? — your little playfellow?  Oh, Chronos, Chronos, this
  is too bad of you!  [Comes down, C.]

  PATIENCE  Archibald!  Is it possible?  Why, let me look!  It is!
  It is!  [takes his hands.]  It must be!  Oh, how happy I am!  I
  thought we should never meet again!  And how you've grown!

  GROS.  Yes, Patience, I am much taller and much stouter than I
  was.

  PATIENCE  And how you've improved!

  GROS. [dropping her hands and turning]  Yes, Patience, I am very
  beautiful!  [Sighs.]

  PATIENCE  But surely that doesn't make you unhappy?

  GROS.  Yes, Patience.  Gifted as I am with a beauty which
  probably has not its rival on earth, I am, nevertheless, utterly
  and completely miserable.

  PATIENCE  Oh — but why?

  GROS.  My child-love for you has never faded.  Conceive, then,
  the horror of my situation when I tell you that it is my hideous
  destiny to be madly loved at first sight by every woman I come
  across!

  PATIENCE  But why do you make yourself so picturesque?  Why not
  disguise yourself, disfigure yourself, anything to escape this
  persecution?

  GROS.  No, Patience, that may not be.  These gifts — irksome as
  they are — were given to me for the enjoyment and delectation of
  my fellow-creatures.  I am a trustee for Beauty, and it is my
  duty to see that the conditions of my trust are faithfully
  discharged.

  PATIENCE  And you, too, are a Poet?

  GROS.  Yes, I am the Apostle of Simplicity.  I am called
  "Archibald the All-Right" — for I am infallible!

  PATIENCE  And is it possible that you condescend to love such a
  girl as I?

  GROS.  Yes, Patience, is it not strange?  I have loved you with a
  Florentine fourteenth-century frenzy for full fifteen years!

  PATIENCE  Oh, marvelous!  I have hitherto been deaf to the voice
  of love.  I seem now to know what love is!  It has been revealed
  to me — it is Archibald Grosvenor!

  GROS.  Yes, Patience, it is!  [She goes into his arms.]

  PATIENCE [as in a trance]  We will never, never part!

  GROS.  We will live and die together!

  PATIENCE  I swear it!

  GROS.  We both swear it!

  PATIENCE [recoiling from him]  But — oh, horror!

  GROS.  What's the matter?

  PATIENCE  Why, you are perfection!  A source of endless ecstasy
  to all who know you!

  GROS.  I know I am.  Well?

  PATIENCE  Then, bless my heart, there can be nothing unselfish in
  loving you!

  GROS.  Merciful powers!  I never thought of that!

  PATIENCE  To monopolize those features on which all women love to
  linger!  It would be unpardonable!

  GROS.  Why, so it would!  Oh, fatal perfection, again you
  interpose between me and my happiness!

  PATIENCE  Oh, if you were but a thought less beautiful than you
  are!

  GROS.  Would that I were; but candour compels me to admit that
  I'm not!

  PATIENCE  Our duty is clear; we must part, and for ever!

  GROS.  Oh, misery!  And yet I cannot question the propriety of
  your decision.  Farewell, Patience!

  PATIENCE  Farewell, Archibald!  [they both turn to go.]
       [suddenly]  But stay!

  GROS.  Yes, Patience?

  PATIENCE  Although I may not love you — for you are perfection -
  - there is nothing to prevent your loving me.  I am plain,
  homely, unattractive!

  GROS.  Why, that's true!

  PATIENCE  The love of such a man as you for such a girl as I must
  be unselfish!

  GROS.  Unselfishness itself!
         No. 8a. Though to marry you would very selfish be
                               (Duet)
                       Patience and Grosvenor

  PATIENCE  Though to marry you would very selfish be—

  GROSVENOR      Hey, but I'm doleful — willow willow waly!

  PATIENCE  You may, all the same, continue loving me —

  GROSVENOR      Hey willow waly O!

  BOTH           All the world ignoring,
                 You'll/I'll go on adoring—
                 Hey, willow waly O!

           [They go off sadly — PATIENCE, L., GROSVENOR, R.U.E.]
                 No. 9. Let the merry cymbals sound
                         (Finale of Act I)
                              Ensemble

  [Enter BUNTHORNE, crowned with roses and hung about with
       garlands, and looking very miserable.  He is led by ANGELA
       and SAPHIR (each of whom holds an end of the rose-garland by
       which he is bound), and accompanied by procession of
       Maidens.  They are dancing classically, and playing on
       cymbals, double pipes, and other archaic instruments.  JANE
       last, with a very large pair of cymbals.]

  [The procession enters over the drawbridge, BUNTHORNE being
       preceded by the Chorus.  They go R. and round the stage,
       ending with BUNTHORNE down L.C., with ANGELA on his R.,
       SAPHIR on his L., JANE up C.]

  MAIDENS   Let the merry cymbals sound,
                 Gaily pipe Pandaean pleasure,
            With a Daphnephoric bound
                 Tread a gay but classic measure,
                 Tread a gay but classic measure.
            Ev'ry heart with hope is beating,
            For, at this exciting meeting
                 Fickle Fortune will decide
                 Who shall be our Bunthorne's bride!

            Ev'ry heart with hope is beating,
            For, at this exciting meeting
                 Fickle Fortune will decide
                 Who shall be our Bunthorne's bride!

            Let the merry cymbals sound,
            Gaily pipe Pandaean pleasure,
                 With a Daphnephoric bound
                 Tread a gay but classic, classic measure,
                 Tread a gay but classic, classic measure,
                 A classic measure.

  [DRAGOONS enter down R., forming a line diagonally up to up-
       stage, C.]

                         Chorus of Dragoons

            Now tell us, we pray you,
            Why thus they array you—
            Oh, poet, how say you—
                 What is it you've [optional — you have] done?

            Now tell us, we pray you,
            Why thus they array you—
            Oh, poet, how say you—
                 What is it you've done?
            Oh, poet, how say you—
                 What is it you've done?

  DUKE [C.] Of rite sacrificial,
            By sentence judicial,
            This seems the initial,
                 Then why don't you run?

  COLONEL   [R.C.] They cannot have led you
            To hang or behead you,
            Nor may they all wed you,
                 Unfortunate one!

  DRAGOONS  Then tell us, we pray you,
            Why thus they array you—
            Oh, poet, how say you—
                 What is it you've done?

  [optional — Enter SOLICITOR.]

  BUNTHORNE Heart-broken at my Patience's barbarity,
                 By the advice of my solicitor
            In aid — in aid of a deserving charity,
                 I've put myself up to be raffled for!

                   [He introduces his solicitor.]

  MAIDENS   By the advice of his solicitor,
                 He's put himself up to be raffled for!

  DRAGOONS  Oh, horror! urged by his solicitor,
                 He's put himself up to be raffled for!

  MAIDENS   Oh, heaven's blessing on his solicitor!

  DRAGOONS  A hideous curse on his solicitor!

  MAIDENS   Oh, heaven's blessing on his solicitor!

  DRAGOONS  A hideous curse on his solicitor!

            MAIDENS                      DRAGOONS

  A blessing on his solicitor!      A curse, a curse on his
                                    solicitor!

  [The SOLICITOR, horrified at the Dragoons' curse, rushes off, L.]

  COLONEL   [R.C. BUNTHORNE up L., surrounded by the Ladies.]
            Stay, we implore you,
                 Before our hopes are blighted;
            You see before you
                 The men to whom you're plighted!

  DRAGOONS  Stay, we implore you,
            For we adore you;
            To us you're plighted
            To be united—
            Stay, we implore you, we implore you!

  DUKE [C.] Your maiden hearts, ah, do not steel
            To pity's eloquent appeal,
            Such conduct British soldiers feel.
            [Aside ] Sigh, sigh, all sigh!  [They all sigh.]

            To foeman's steel we rarely see
            A British soldier bend the knee,
            Yet, one and all, they kneel to ye—
            [Aside ] Kneel, kneel, all kneel!  [They all kneel.]

            Our soldiers very seldom cry,
            And yet — I need not tell you why—
            A tear-drop dews each martial eye!
            [Aside ] Weep, weep, all weep!  [They all weep.]

  MAIDENS &
    DRAGOONS     Our/We soldiers very seldom cry,
                 And yet — they/we need not tell us/you why—

  ABOVE &
    DUKE         A tear-drop dews each eye/martial eye!
                      Weep, weep, all weep!

  [The Solicitor re-enters]

  BUNTHORNE [coming briskly forward, L.C.]
       Come, walk up, and purchase with avidity,
       Overcome your diffidence and natural timidity,
       Tickets for the raffle should be purchased with avidity,
            Put in half a guinea and a husband you may gain—
       Such a judge of blue-and-white and other kinds of pottery—
       From early Oriental down to modern terra-cottary—
       Put in half a guinea — you may draw him in a lottery—
            Such an opportunity may not occur again.

  MAIDENS   Such a judge of blue-and-white and other kinds of
                 pottery—
            From early Oriental down to modern terra cottary—
            Put in half a guinea — you may draw him in a lottery—
                 Such an opportunity may not occur again.

  [MAIDENS crowd up to purchase tickets.  DRAGOONS dance in single
       file round stage, to express their indifference.]

  DRAGOONS  We've been thrown over, we're aware
            But we don't care — but we don't care!
            There's fish in the sea, no doubt of it,
            As good as ever came out of it,
            And some day we shall get our share,
            So we don't care — so we don't care!

  [During this the GIRLS have been buying tickets, the Solicitor
       officiating.  At last JANE presents herself.  BUNTHORNE
       looks at her with aversion.]

  BUNTHORNE      And are you going a ticket for to buy?

  JANE [surprised]  Most certainly I am; why shouldn't I?

  BUNTHORNE [aside]   Oh, Fortune, this is hard! [aloud]
                      Blindfold your eyes;
                 Two minutes will decide who wins the prize!
            [GIRLS blindfold themselves.]
                         Chorus of MAIDENS

  Oh, Fortune, to my aching heart be kind;
  Like us, thou art blindfolded, but not blind!
  Just raise your bandage, thus, [Each uncovers one eye.] that you
       may see,
  And give the prize, and give the prize to me!  [They cover their
       eyes again.]

  BUNTHORNE  Come, Lady Jane, I pray you draw the first!

  JANE  [joyfully]  He loves me best!

  BUNTHORNE  [aside]  I want to know the worst!

  [JANE puts her hand in bag to draw ticket.  PATIENCE enters and
       prevents her.]

  PATIENCE  Hold!  Stay your hand!

  ALL  [uncovering their eyes]
       What means this interference?
       Of this bold girl I pray you make a clearance!

  JANE Away with you, away with you, and to your milk-pails go!

  BUNTHORNE [suddenly] She wants a ticket!  Take a dozen!

  PATIENCE       No!  If there be pardon in your breast
                 For this poor penitent,
            Who with remorseful thought opprest,
                 Sincerely doth repent;
            If you, with one so lowly, still
                 Desire to be allied,
            Then you may take me, if you will,
                 For I will be your bride!
            [She kneels to Bunthorne.]

  CHORUS         Oh, shameless one!
                      Oh, bold-faced thing!
                 Away you run—
                      Go, take your wing,
                 Oh, shameless one!
                      Oh, bold-faced thing!
                 Away you run—
                      Go, take your wing,
                 You shameless one!
                      You bold-faced thing!
            [Bunthorne raises her.]

  BUNTHORNE How strong is love!  For many and many a week,
            She's loved me fondly, and has feared to speak
            But Nature, for restraint too mighty far,
            Has burst the bonds of Art — and here we are!

  PATIENCE  No, Mister Bunthorne, no — you're wrong again;
            Permit me — I'll endeavour to explain!

            True love must single-hearted be—

  BUNTHORNE                         Exactly so!

  PATIENCE  From ev'ry selfish fancy free—

  BUNTHORNE                         Exactly so!

  PATIENCE  No idle thought of gain or joy
            A maiden's fancy should employ—
            True love must be without alloy,
            True love must be without alloy.

  MEN                               Exactly so!

  PATIENCE  Imposture to contempt must lead—

  COLONEL                           Exactly so!

  PATIENCE  Blind vanity's dissension's seed—

  MAJOR                             Exactly so!

  PATIENCE  It follows, then, a maiden who
            Devotes herself to loving you
            Is prompted by no selfish view,
            Is prompted by no selfish view!

  MEN                               Exactly so!

  SAPHIR    [coming L. of BUNTHORNE]
       Are you resolved to wed this shameless one?

  ANGELA    [coming R. of BUNTHORNE]
       Is there no chance for any other?

  BUNTHORNE [decisively] None!  [Embraces PATIENCE]

  [Exit PATIENCE and BUNTHORNE, L. ANGELA, SAPHIR, and ELLA take
       COLONEL, DUKE, and MAJOR down, while GIRLS gaze fondly at
       other Officers.]
                               SEXTET
            (ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, DUKE, MAJOR, COLONEL)

            I hear the soft note of the echoing voice
                 Of an old, old love, long dead—
            It whispers my sorrowing heart "rejoice"—
                 For the last sad tear is shed—
            The pain that is all but a pleasure will change
                 For the pleasure that's all but pain,
            And never, oh never, this heart will range
                 From that old, old love again!
                      [GIRLS embrace OFFICERS]

  CHORUS    Yes, the pain that is all but a pleasure will change
                 For the pleasure that's all but pain,
            And never, oh never, our hearts will range
                 From that old, old love again!

            DUKE                    CHORUS

  Oh, never, oh never          Oh, never, oh never
       our hearts will range        our hearts, our hearts
                                    will range
  From that old, old love again!

       SEXTET                       CHORUS

  Oh, never, oh never,    Oh, never, oh never our hearts,
  our hearts will range   Oh, never, our hearts will range
  From that old, old      From that old, old love
       love again!             again!

  [The GIRLS embrace the Officers.  Re-enter PATIENCE and
       BUNTHORNE. L.]

  [As the DRAGOONS and GIRLS are embracing, enter GROSVENOR,
       R.U.E., reading.  He takes no notice of them, but comes
       slowly down, still reading.  The GIRLS are all strangely
       fascinated by him.  The Chorus divides, L. & R., and the
       GIRLS are held back by the DRAGOONS, as they attempt to
       throw themselves at GROSVENOR.  Fury of BUNTHORNE, who
       recognizes a rival.]

  ANGELA    [R.C.] But who is this, whose god-like grace
            Proclaims he comes of noble race?
            And who is this, whose manly face
            Bears sorrow's interesting trace?

  CHORUS    Yes, who is this, whose god-like grace
            Proclaims he comes of noble race?

  GROSVENOR [C.] I am a broken-hearted troubadour,
            Whose mind's aesthetic and whose tastes are pure!

  ANGELA    Aesthetic!  He is aesthetic!

  GROSVENOR           Yes, yes — I am aesthetic
                          And poetic!

  MAIDENS             Then, we love you!

    [They break away from the DRAGOONS, and kneel to GROSVENOR.]

  DRAGOONS  They love him!  Horror!

  BUNTHORNE and
    PATIENCE     They love him!  Horror!

  GROSVENOR  They love me!  Horror!  Horror!  Horror!

                                 ENSEMBLE
                     [all parts sung at the same time]

            PATIENCE                                   DUKE
  List, Reginald, while I confess          My jealousy I can't
  express,
     A love that's all unselfishness,          Their love they openly
  confess;
  That it's unselfish, goodness knows,     His shell-like ears he
  does not close
     You won't dispute it, I suppose!          To their recital of
  their woes.

      ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, JANE                      CHORUS

  Oh, list while we a love confess         Oh, list while we/they a
  love confess
     That words imperfectly express.
  Those shell-like ears, ah, do not close  That words imperfectly
  express.
     To blighted love's distracting woes!

                                ENSEMBLE
                    [all parts sung at the same time]

     MAJOR, COLONEL & BUNTHORNE                    GROSVENOR

  My jealousy I can't express,             Again my cursed comeliness
     Their love they openly confess!          Spreads hopeless
  anguish and
                                                  distress,
  Their love they openly confess,          Spreads hopeless anguish
  and
     confess!                                     distress, distress!

             MAIDENS                                DRAGOONS

  Yes, those shell-like ears, ah, do       Yes, his shell-like ears
          not close                               he does not close
     To blighted love's distracting        To their recital of their
  woes!
          woes!
  To blighted love's distracting woes,     To their recital of their
  woes,
          their woes!                             their woes!
                                ENSEMBLE
                   [all parts sung at the same time]

           PATIENCE                                      DUKE

     Ah!                                   Ah!

  And I shall love you, I shall love.      His shell-like ears he
  does not close
     Your ears, ah, do not close!              To love's distracting
  woes!
  Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close    Now is not this
  ridiculous,
                                                  and is not this
  preposterous?
  To blighted love's distracting woes!     A thorough-paced
  absurdity,
                                                  explain it if you
  can!
  Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close    Now is not this
  ridiculous,
                                                  and is not this
  preposterous?
  To blighted love's distracting woes!     A thorough-paced
  absurdity,
                                                  explain it if you
  can!
  To love's, to love's distracting woes!   Explain, explain it if you
  can!
     love's woes!                                 you can!

      ELLA, SAPHIR, ANGELA, JANE                     MAIDENS

  Oh, list while we our love confess       Oh, list while we a love
  confess
     That words imperfectly express.           That words imperfectly
  express.
  Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close    Those shell-like ears, ah,
  do not
                                                  close
     To love's distracting woes!           To love's distracting
  woes!
   Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close   Those shell-like ears, ah,
  do not
                                                  close
     To blighted love's distracting woes!  To blighted love's
  distracting
                                                  woes!
  Thy shell-like ears, ah, do not close    Those shell-like ears, ah,
  do not
                                                  close
     To blighted love's distracting woes!  To blighted love's
  distracting
                                                  woes!
  To love's, to love's distracting woes!   To love's, to love's
  distracting
     love's woes                                  woes! love's woes!

           BUNTHORNE                               MAJOR and COLONEL

  My jealousy I can't express,             My jealousy I can't
  express,
     Their love they openly confess.            Their love they
  openly confess.
  His shell-like ears he does not close    His shell-like ears he
  does not close
     To love's distracting woes!                To love's distracting
  woes!
  His shell-like ears he does not close    Now is not this
  ridiculous,
                                                  and is not this
  preposterous?
     To blighted love's distracting        A thorough-paced
  absurdity,
          woes!                                   explain it if you
  can!
  His shell-like ears he does not close    Now is not this
  ridiculous,
                                                  and is not this
  preposterous?
     To blighted love's distracting        A thorough-paced
  absurdity,
          woes!                                   explain it if you
  can!
  To love's, to love's distracting woes!   Explain, explain it if you
  can!
     love's woes!                                 you can!

            GROSVENOR                                MALE CHORUS

  Again my cursed comeliness               Oh, list while they a love
  confess
     Spreads hopeless anguish and               That words
  imperfectly express.
          distress;
  Thine ears, oh, Fortune, do not close    His shell-like ears He
  does not close
     To love's distracting woes!                To love's distracting
  woes!
  My shell-like ears I can not close       Now is not this
  ridiculous,
                                                  and is not this
  preposterous?
     To blighted love's distracting        A thorough-paced
  absurdity,
          woes!                                   explain it if you
  can!
  My shell-like ears I can not close       Now is not this
  ridiculous,
                                                  and is not this
  preposterous?
     To blighted love's distracting        A thorough-paced
  absurdity,
          woes!                                   explain it if you
  can!
  To love's, to love's distracting woes!   Explain, explain it if you
  can!
     love's woes!                                 you can!
  [GROSVENOR makes a wild effort to escape up-stage; the GIRLS drag
       him back and kneel as the curtain falls.]

                            END OF ACT I





ACT II

  [SCENE — A wooded glade, with a view of open country in the
       background.  The chorus of MAIDENS is heard singing in the
       distance.  JANE is discovered leaning on a violoncello,
       which she has propped up on a tree-stump, L., and upon which
       she will presently accompany herself.  As the Chorus ends,
       she speaks.]

              No. 10. On such eyes as maidens cherish
                          (Opening Chorus)

                              Maidens

                 On such eyes as maidens cherish
                      Lest thy fond adorers gaze,
                 Or incontinently perish,
                      In their all-consuming rays!
                 Or incontinently perish,
                      In their all-consuming rays!
  JANE  The fickle crew have deserted Reginald and sworn allegiance
  to his rival, and all, forsooth, because he has glanced with
  passing favour on a puling milkmaid!  Fools!  Of that fancy he
  will soon weary — and then, I, who alone am faithful to him,
  shall reap my reward.  But do not dally too long, Reginald, for
  my charms are ripe, Reginald, and already they are decaying.
  Better secure me ere I have gone too far!
                  No. 11. Sad is that woman's lot
                       (Recitative and Solo)
                                Jane

  JANE      Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year,
            Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear,
            When Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs,
            Impatiently begins to dim her eyes!
            Compelled, at last, in life's uncertain gloamings,
            To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved
                 "combings,"
            Reduced, with rouge, lip-shade, and pearly grey,
            To "make up" for lost time as best she may!

            Silvered is the raven hair,
                 Spreading is the parting straight,
            Mottled the complexion fair,
                 Halting is the youthful gait,
            Hollow is the laughter free,
                 Spectacled the limpid eye,
            Little will be left of me
                 In the coming bye and bye!
            Little will be left of me
                 In the coming bye and bye!

            Fading is the taper waist,
                 Shapeless grows the shapely limb,
            And although severely laced,
                 Spreading is the figure trim!

            Stouter than I used to be,
                 Still more corpulent grow I—
            There will be too much of me
                 In the coming by and bye!
            There will be too much of me
                 In the coming by and bye!

                            [Exit, L., carrying her violoncello.]

  [Enter GROSVENOR, R., followed by MAIDENS, two and two, playing
       on archaic instruments as in Act I.  He is reading
       abstractedly, as BUNTHORNE did in Act I, and pays no
       attention to them.]
              No. 12. Turn, oh, turn in this direction
                              (Chorus)
                              Maidens

            Turn, oh, turn in this direction,
                 Shed, oh, shed a gentle smile,
            With a glance of sad perfection,
                 Our poor fainting hearts beguile!

            On such eyes as maidens cherish
                 Let thy fond adorers gaze,
            Or incontinently perish,
                 In their all-consuming rays!
            Or incontinently perish,
                 In their all-consuming rays!

  [GROSVENOR sits, R.; they group themselves around him in a
       formation similar to that which opens Act I.]

  GROS. [aside, not looking up]  The old, old tale.  How
  rapturously these maidens love me, and how hopelessly!  [He looks
  up.]  Oh, Patience, Patience, with the love of thee in my heart,
  what have I for these poor mad maidens but an unvalued pity?
  Alas, they will die of hopeless love for me, as I shall die of
  hopeless love for thee!

  ANGELA  Sir, will it please you read to us?

  GROS. [sighing]  Yes, child, if you will.  What shall I read?

  ANGELA  One of your own poems.

  GROS.  One of my own poems?  Better not, my child.  They will not
  cure thee of thy love.  [All sigh.]

  ELLA  Mr. Bunthorne used to read us a poem of his own every day.

  SAPHIR  And, to do him justice, he read them extremely well.

  GROS.  Oh, did he so?  Well, who am I that I should take upon
  myself to withhold my gifts from you?  What am I but a trustee?
  Here is a decalet — a pure and simple thing, a very daisy — a
  babe might understand it.  To appreciate it, it is not necessary
  to think of anything at all.

  ANGELA  Let us think of nothing at all!

  GROS. [reciting]

            Gentle Jane was as good as gold,
            She always did as she was told;
            She never spoke when her mouth was full,
            Or caught bluebottles their legs to pull,
            Or spilt plum jam on her nice new frock,
            Or put white mice in the eight-day clock,
            Or vivisected her last new doll,
            Or fostered a passion for alcohol.
       And when she grew up she was given in marriage
       To a first-class earl who keeps his carriage!

  GROS.  I believe I am right in saying that there is not one word
  in that decalet which is calculated to bring the blush of shame
  to the cheek of modesty.

  ANGELA  Not one; it is purity itself.

  GROS.  Here's another.

       Teasing Tom was a very bad boy,
       A great big squirt was his favourite toy
       He put live shrimps in his father's boots,
       And sewed up the sleeves of his Sunday suits;
       He punched his poor little sisters' heads,
       And cayenne-peppered their four-post beds;
       He plastered their hair with cobbler's wax,
       And dropped hot halfpennies down their backs.
            The consequence was he was lost totally,
            And married a girl in the corps de bally!

               [The MAIDENS express intense horror.]

  ANGELA  Marked you how grandly — how relentlessly — the damning
  catalogue of crime strode on, till Retribution, like a poised
  hawk, came swooping down upon the Wrong-Doer?  Oh, it was
  terrible!  [All shudder.]

  ELLA  Oh, sir, you are indeed a true poet, for you touch our
  hearts, and they go out to you!

  GROS. [aside]  This is simply cloying.  [aloud] Ladies, I am
  sorry to appear ungallant, but this is Saturday, and you have
  been following me about ever since Monday.  I should like the
  usual half-holiday.  I shall take it as a personal favour if you
  will kindly allow me to close early to-day.

  SAPHIR  Oh, sir, do not send us from you!

  GROS.  Poor, poor girls!  It is best to speak plainly.  I know
  that I am loved by you, but I never can love you in return, for
  my heart is fixed elsewhere!  Remember the fable of the Magnet
  and the Churn.

  ANGELA [wildly]  But we don't know the fable of the Magnet and
  the Churn!

  GROS.  Don't you?  Then I will sing it to you.
              No. 13. A magnet hung in a hardware shop
                         (Solo and Chorus)
                       Grosvenor and Maidens

  GROSVENOR      A magnet hung in a hardware shop,
                 And all around was a loving crop
                 Of scissors and needles, nails and knives,
                 Offering love for all their lives;
                 But for iron the magnet felt no whim,
                 Though he charmed iron, it charmed not him;
                 From needles and nails and knives he'd turn,
                 For he'd set his love on a Silver Churn!

  MAIDENS             A Silver Churn!

  GROSVENOR           A Silver Churn!

                          His most aesthetic,
                          Very magnetic
                      Fancy took this turn—
                          "If I can wheedle
                          A knife or a needle,
                      Why not a Silver Churn?"

  MAIDENS                 His most aesthetic,
                          Very magnetic
                      Fancy took this turn—
                          "If I can wheedle
                          A knife or a needle,
                      Why not a Silver Churn?"

  GROSVENOR [He rises, going C.]
            And Iron and Steel expressed surprise,
            The needles opened their well-drilled eyes,
            The penknives felt "shut up", no doubt,
            The scissors declared themselves "cut out",
            The kettles they boiled with rage, 'tis said,
            While ev'ry nail went off its head,
            And hither and thither began to roam,
            Till a hammer came up and drove them home.

  MAIDENS        It drove them home?

  GROSVENOR      It drove them home!

                      While this magnetic,
                      Peripatetic
                 Lover he lived to learn,
                      By no endeavour
                      Can magnet ever
                 Attract a Silver Churn!

  MAIDENS             While this magnetic,
                      Peripatetic
                 Lover he lived to learn,

  MAIDENS and
  GROSVENOR      By no endeavour
                      Can magnet ever
                 Attract a Silver Churn!

  [They go off in low spirits, R.U.E., gazing back at him from time
       to time.]

  GROS.  At last they are gone!  What is this mysterious
  fascination that I seem to exercise over all I come across?  A
  curse on my fatal beauty, for I am sick of conquests!  [Goes R.]

  [Enter PATIENCE, L. Stops L.C. on seeing GROSVENOR.]

  GROS. [Turns and sees her.]  Patience!

  PATIENCE  I have escaped with difficulty from my Reginald.  I
  wanted to see you so much that I might ask you if you still love
  me as fondly as ever?

  GROS.  Love you?  If the devotion of a lifetime— [seizing her
  hand.]

  PATIENCE [indignantly]  Hold!  Unhand me, or I scream!  [He
  releases her.]  If you are a gentleman, pray remember that I am
  another's!  [very tenderly.]  But you do love me, don't you?

  GROS.  Madly, hopelessly, despairingly!

  PATIENCE  That's right!  I never can be yours; but that's right!

  GROS.  And you love this Bunthorne?

  PATIENCE  With a heart-whole ecstasy that withers, and scorches,
  and burns, and stings!  [sadly]  It is my duty.

  GROS.  Admirable girl!  But you are not happy with him?

  PATIENCE  Happy?  I am miserable beyond description!

  GROS.  That's right!  I never can be yours; but that's right!

  PATIENCE  But go now.  I see dear Reginald approaching.
  Farewell, dear Archibald; I cannot tell you how happy it has made
  me to know that you still love me.

  GROS.  Ah, if I only dared— [advancing towards her]

  PATIENCE  Sir! this language to one who is promised to another!
  [tenderly]  Oh, Archibald, think of me sometimes, for my heart is
  breaking!  He is unkind to me, and you would be so loving!

  GROS.  Loving!  [advancing towards her]

  PATIENCE  Advance one step, and as I am a good and pure woman, I
  scream!  [tenderly]  Farewell, Archibald!  [sternly]  Stop there!
  [tenderly]  Think of me sometimes!  [angrily]  Advance at your
  peril!  Once more, adieu!

  [GROSVENOR sighs, gazes sorrowfully at her, sighs deeply, and
       exits, R.  She bursts into tears.]

  [Enter BUNTHORNE, followed by JANE.  He is moody and
       preoccupied.]
                         In a doleful train
                               (Solo)
                                Jane

  JANE      In a doleful train
                 One and one I walk all day;
            For I love in vain—
                 None so sorrowful as they
                      Who can only sigh and say,
                      Woe is me, alackaday!

  BUN. [seeing PATIENCE]  Crying, eh?  What are you crying about?

  PATIENCE  I've only been thinking how dearly I love you!

  BUN.  Love me!  Bah!

  JANE  Love him!  Bah!

  BUN. [to JANE]  Don't you interfere.

  JANE  He always crushes me!

  PATIENCE [going to him]  What is the matter, dear Reginald?  If
  you have any sorrow, tell it to me, that I may share it with you.
  [sighing]  It is my duty!

  BUN. [snappishly]  Whom were you talking with just now?

  PATIENCE  With dear Archibald.

  BUN. [furiously]  With dear Archibald!  Upon my honour, this is
  too much!

  JANE  A great deal too much!

  BUN. [angrily to JANE]  Do be quiet!

  JANE  Crushed again!

  PATIENCE  I think he is the noblest, purest, and most perfect
  being I have ever met.  But I don't love him.  It is true that he
  is devotedly attached to me, but I don't love him.  Whenever he
  grows  affectionate, I scream.  It is my duty!  [sighing]

  BUN.  I dare say!

  JANE  So do I!  I dare say!

  PATIENCE  Why, how could I love him and love you too?  You can't
  love two people at once!

  BUN.  Oh, can't you, though!

  PATIENCE  No, you can't; I only wish you could.

  BUN.  I don't believe you know what love is!

  PATIENCE [sighing]  Yes, I do.  There was a happy time when I
  didn't, but a bitter experience has taught me.

  [BUNTHORNE, noticing that JANE is not looking at him, goes off
       quickly up R.  She turns, sees him, and runs after him.]