THE SORCERER.
ACT I.
Scene.—Garden of Sir Marmaduke’s Elizabethan mansion. The end of a large marquee, open, and showing portion of table covered with white cloth, on which are joints of meat, teapots, cups, bread and butter, jam, etc. To the back a raised terrace with steps. A park in the background, with spire of church seen above the trees.
Chorus of Peasantry.
Ring forth, ye bells,
With clarion sound—
Forget your knells,
For joys abound.
Forget your notes
Of mournful lay,
And from your throats
Pour joy to-day.
For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis Pointdextre
Is betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,
And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her,
At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!
Ring forth, ye bells, etc.
[At the end of chorus, exeunt the Men into house.
Enter Mrs. Partlet, meeting Constance, her daughter.
Recitative.
Mrs. P. Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?
The village rings with seasonable joy,
Because the young and amiable Alexis,
Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,
Is plighted to Aline, the only daughter
Of Annabella, Lady Sangazure.
You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;
What is the reason? Speak, my daughter, speak!
Con. Oh, mother, do not ask! If my complexion
From red to white should change in quick succession—
And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!
If my poor limbs shall tremble with emotion,
Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!
If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,
Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne’er be known!
Mrs. P. My child, be candid; think not to deceive
The eagle-eyed pew-opener—you love!
Con. (aside).
How guessed she that, my heart’s most cherished secret?
(Aloud.) I do love, fondly—madly—hopelessly!
Aria.—Constance.
When he is here,
I sigh with pleasure;
When he is gone,
I sigh with grief.
My hopeless fear
No soul can measure;
His love alone
Can give my aching heart relief!
When he is cold,
I weep for sorrow;
When he is kind,
I weep for joy.
My grief untold
Knows no to-morrow.
My woe can find
No hope, no solace, no alloy!
[At the end of the song, Mrs. Partlet silently motions to Women to leave them together. Exeunt Chorus.
Mrs. P. Come, tell me all about it! Do not fear—
I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!
Who is the object of your young affections?
Con. Hush, mother! He is here!
Enter Dr. Daly. He is pensive, and does not see them. He sits on stool.
Mrs. P. (amazed).Our reverend vicar!
Con. Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!
Mrs. P. My child, be comforted. To such an union
I shall not offer any opposition.
Take him—he’s yours! May you and he be happy!
Con. But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!
Mrs. P. That’s true, indeed!
Con.He might object!
Mrs. P.He might.
But come; take heart. I’ll probe him on the subject.
Be comforted; leave this affair to me.
Recitative—Dr. Daly.
The air is charged with amatory numbers—
Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers’ lays.
Peace, peace, old heart! Why waken from its slumbers
The aching memory of the old, old days?
Ballad.
Time was when Love and I were well acquainted.
Time was when we walked ever hand in hand,
A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted—
None better loved than I in all the land!
Time was when maidens of the noblest station,
Forsaking even military men,
Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration.
Ah me! I was a fair young curate then!
Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;
Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;
Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;
And when I coughed all thought the end was near.
I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o’er me;
For I was loved beyond all other men.
Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.
Ah me! I was a pale young curate then!
[At the conclusion of the ballad, Mrs. Partlet comes forward with Constance.
Mrs. P. Good day, reverend sir.
Dr. D. Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you. And your little daughter, Constance! Why, she is quite a little woman, I declare!
Con. (aside). Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!
Mrs. P. Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as good a girl as ever stepped. (Aside to Dr. D.) Ah, sir, I’m afraid I shall soon lose her!
Dr. D. (aside to Mrs. P.). Dear me! you pain me very much. Is she delicate?
Mrs. P. Oh no, sir; I don’t mean that; but young girls look to get married.
Dr. D. Oh, I take you. To be sure. But there’s plenty of time for that. Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or five years hence. But when the time does come, I shall have much pleasure in marrying her myself——
Con. (aside). Oh, mother!
Dr. D. To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of life.
Con. (in tears). He does not love me!
Mrs. P. I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you’ll excuse the liberty), that you have never married.
Dr. D. (aside). Be still, my fluttering heart!
Mrs. P. A clergyman’s wife does so much good in a village. Besides that, you are not so young as you were, and before very long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your little comforts.
Dr. D. Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say. I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my declining days. Time was when it might have been; but I have left it too long. I am an old fogey now, am I not, my dear? (to Constance)—a very old fogey, indeed. Ha! ha! No, Mrs. Partlet, my mind is quite made up. I shall live and die a solitary old bachelor.
Con. Oh, mother, mother! (Sobs on Mrs. Partlet’s bosom.)
Mrs. P. Come, come, dear one, don’t fret. At a more fitting time we will try again—we will try again.
[Exeunt Mrs. Partlet and Constance.
Dr. D. (looking after them). Poor little girl! I’m afraid she has something on her mind. She is rather comely. Time was when this old heart would have throbbed in double time at the sight of such a fairy form! But tush! I am puling! Here come the young Alexis, with his proud and happy father. Let me dry this tell-tale tear!
Enter Sir Marmaduke and Alexis from house.
Recitative.
Dr. D. Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—
On this most happy, most auspicious plighting,
Permit me, as a true old friend, to tender
My best, my very best congratulations!
Sir M. Sir, you are most obleeging!
Alex.Dr. Daly,
My dear old tutor and my valued pastor,
I thank you from the bottom of my heart!
(Spoken through music.)
Dr. D. May fortune bless you! may the middle distance
Of your young life be pleasant as the foreground—
The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,
May that which now is the far-off horizon,
But which will then become the middle distance,
In fruitful promise be exceeded only
By that which will have opened, in the mean time,
Into a new and glorious horizon!
Sir M. Dear sir, that is an excellent example
Of an old school of stately compliment,
To which I have, through life, been much addicted.
Will you obleege me with a copy of it,
In clerkly manuscript, that I myself
May use it on appropriate occasions?
Dr. D. Sir, you shall have a fairly written copy
Ere Sol has sunk into his western slumbers!
[Exit Dr. Daly.
Sir M. (to Alexis, who is in a reverie). Come, come, my son—your fiancée will be here in five minutes. Rouse yourself to receive her.
Alex. (rising). Oh, rapture!
Sir M. Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will not disguise from you that this union with the house of Sangazure realizes my fondest wishes. Aline is rich, and she comes of a sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and thirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy. True, there was a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair with Paris—but where is the family, other than my own, in which there is no flaw? You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow!
Alex. Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love, upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity!
Sir M. Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young lady you do not speak so openly. You are always singing ballads in praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies. It is not delicate.
Alex. Father, a man who loves as I love——
Sir M. Pooh, pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason to believe that she returned my love. But were we guilty of the indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other’s arms, exclaiming—
Recitative.
“Oh, my adored one!” “Beloved boy!”
“Ecstatic rapture!” “Unmingled joy!”
which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making? No, it was, “Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good health.”—“Sir, you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty well”—and so forth. Much more delicate—much more respectful. But see—Aline approaches; let us retire, that she may compose herself for the interesting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part.
[Exeunt Sir Marmaduke into house.
Enter Aline, preceded by Chorus of Girls.
Chorus of Girls.
With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating:
To the youth of her choice,
With a heart palpitating,
Comes the lovely Aline!
May their love never cloy!
May their bliss be unbounded!
With a halo of joy
May their lives be surrounded!
Heaven bless our Aline!
Recitative.—Aline.
My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting,
And as you wish me every earthly joy,
I trust your wishes may have quick fulfilment!
Aria.—Aline.
Oh, happy young heart!
Comes thy young lord a-wooing,
With joy in his eyes,
And pride in his breast.
Make much of thy prize,
For he is the best
That ever came a-suing.
Yet—yet we must part,
Young heart!
Yet—yet we must part.
Oh, merry young heart,
Bright are the days of thy wooing!
But happier far
The days untried.
No sorrow can mar
When Love has tied
The knot there’s no undoing.
Then, never to part,
Young heart!
Then, never to part!
Enter Lady Sangazure.
Recitative.—Lady S.
My child, I join in these congratulations.
Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!
Old memories crowd upon me. Though I sorrow,
’Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!
Enter Alexis from house, preceded by Chorus of Men.
Chorus of Men and Women.
With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating:
To the maid of his choice,
With a heart palpitating,
Comes Alexis the brave!
Sir Marmaduke enters from house. Lady Sangazure and he exhibit signs of strong emotion at the sight of each other, which they endeavour to repress; Alexis and Aline rush into each other’s arms.
Recitative.
Alex. Oh, my adored one!
Ali.Beloved boy!
Alex. Ecstatic rapture!
Ali.Unmingled joy!
Duet.—Sir Marmaduke and Lady Sangazure.
Sir M. (with stately courtesy).
Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!
As Aurora gilds the day,
So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,
Chase the clouds of care away.
Irresistible incentive
Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
I’m your servant most attentive,
Most attentive to command.
(Aside, with frantic vehemence.)
Wild with adoration!
Mad with fascination!
To indulge my lamentation
No occasion do I miss!
Goaded to distraction
By maddening inaction,
I find some satisfaction
In apostrophe like this:
“Sangazure immortal,
Sangazure divine,
Welcome to my portal,
Angel, oh, be mine!”
(Aloud with much ceremony.)
Irresistible incentive
Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
I’m your servant most attentive,
Most attentive to command!
Lady S.
Sir, I thank you most politely
For your graceful courtesee:
Compliment more true knightly
Never yet was paid to me!
Chivalry is an ingredient
Sadly lacking in our land.
Sir, I am your most obedient,
Most obedient to command!
(Aside, with great vehemence.)
Wild with adoration!
Mad with fascination!
To indulge my lamentation
No occasion do I miss!
Goaded to distraction
By maddening inaction,
I find some satisfaction
In apostrophe like this:
“Marmaduke immortal,
Marmaduke divine,
Take me to thy portal,
Loved one, oh, be mine!”
(Aloud, with much ceremony.)
Chivalry is an ingredient
Sadly lacking in our land.
Sir, I am your most obedient,
Most obedient to command!
[During this duet a small table has been placed upon stage, by Mrs. Partlet. The Counsel has entered, and prepares marriage contract behind table.
Recitative—Counsel.
All is prepared for sealing and for signing,
The contract has been drafted as agreed;
Approach the table, oh ye lovers pining,
With hand and seal come execute the deed!
[Alexis and Aline advance and sign, Alexis supported by Sir Marmaduke, Aline by her mother.
Chorus.
See they sign, without a quiver, it—
Then to seal proceed.
They deliver it—they deliver it
As their act and deed!
Alex.I deliver it—I deliver it
As my act and deed!
Ali.I deliver it—I deliver it
As my act and deed!
Chorus.
With heart and with voice
Let us welcome this mating:
Leave them here to rejoice,
With true love palpitating—
Alexis the brave,
And the lovely Aline!
[Exeunt all but Alexis and Aline.
Alex. At last we are alone! My darling, you are now irrevocably betrothed to me. Are you not very, very happy?
Ali. Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it? Do I not love you beyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return? Is not true love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of every earthly joy?
Alex. Of that there can be no doubt. Oh that the world could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim! Oh that the world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth, education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the panacea for every ill!
Ali. Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness!
Alex. I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but slowly. Still I have made some converts to the principle, that men and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction of rank. I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics’ Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my views. I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and lunatic asylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm. I have addressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if they married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented.
Ali. Noble fellows! And yet there are those who hold that the uneducated classes are not open to argument! And what do the countesses say?
Alex. Why, at present, it can’t be denied, the aristocracy hold aloof.
Ali. The working man is the true Intelligence, after all!
Alex. He is a noble creature when he is quite sober. Yes, Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should be independent of external influences. It should live upon itself and by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!
Ballad.
Alex. Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know.
Some love for rank, and some for duty;
Some give their hearts away for empty show,
And others love for youth and beauty.
To love for money all the world is prone;
Some love themselves, and live all lonely.
Give me the love that loves for love alone;
I love that love—I love it only!
What man for any other joy can thirst,
Whose loving wife adores him duly?
Want, misery, and care may do their worst,
If loving woman loves you truly.
A lover’s thoughts are ever with his own;
None truly loved is ever lonely.
Give me the love that loves for love alone;
I love that love—I love it only!
Ali. Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!
Alex. Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step in support of them. Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W. Wells and Co., the old-established family sorcerers, in St. Mary Axe?
Ali. I have seen their advertisement.
Alex. They have invented a philtre, which, if report may be believed, is simply infallible. I intend to distribute it through the village, and within half an hour of my doing so, there will not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the secret of pure and lasting happiness. What do you say to that?
Ali. Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing in a house; quite indispensable in the present state of Thames water; but still I don’t quite see that it is the sort of thing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly joy.
Alex. Aline, you misunderstand me. I didn’t say a filter—I said philtre.
Ali. So did I, dear. I said a filter.
Alex. No, dear, you said a filter. I don’t mean a filter—I mean a philtre,—ph, you know.
Ali. (alarmed). You don’t mean a love-potion?
Alex. On the contrary—I do mean a love-potion.
Ali. Oh, Alexis, I don’t think it would be right. I don’t indeed. And then—a real magician! Oh, it would be downright wicked.
Alex. Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to steep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple them in matrimony, without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?
Ali. Unquestionably, but——
Alex. Then, unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in deference to the great and good end I have in view. (Calling.) Hercules!
Enter a Page from tent.
Page. Yes, sir.
Alex. Is Mr. Wells there?
Page. He’s in the tent, sir—refreshing.
Alex. Ask him to be so good as to step this way.
Page. Yes, sir.
[Exit Page.
Ali. Oh, but, Alexis! A real sorcerer! Oh, I shall be frightened to death!
Alex. I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the strong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.
Ali. It’s nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me with your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turn round.
Alex. He could change you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but it is most unlikely that he would take such liberty. It’s a most respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of so untradesmanlike an act.
Enter Mr. Wells from tent.
Mr. W. Good day, sir.
[Aline much terrified.
Alex. Good day. I believe you are a sorcerer.
Mr. W. Yes, sir, we practise necromancy in all its branches. We’ve a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods, amulets, charms, and counter-charms. We can cast you a nativity at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three and six that we can guarantee. Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent hag who comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, are strongly recommended. Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and our prophetic tablets, foretelling everything—from a change of ministry down to a rise in Turkish stock—are much inquired for. Our penny curse—one of the cheapest things in the trade—is considered infallible. We have some very superior blessings, too, but they’re very little asked for. We’ve only sold one since Christmas—to a gentleman who bought it to send to his mother-in-law—but it turned out that he was afflicted in the head, and it’s been returned on our hands. But our sale of penny curses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous. We can’t turn ’em out fast enough.
Song.—Mr. Wells.
Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells.
I’m a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses,
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells.
If you want a proud foe to “make tracks”—
If you’d melt a rich uncle in wax—
You’ve but to look in
On our resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe.
We’ve a first-class assortment of magic;
And for raising a posthumous shade
With effects that are comic or tragic,
There’s no cheaper house in the trade.
Love-philtre—we’ve quantities of it!
And for knowledge if any one burns,
We keep an extremely small prophet
Who brings us unbounded returns:
Oh! he can prophesy
With a wink of his eye,
Peep with security
Into futurity,
Sum up your history,
Clear up a mystery,
Humour proclivity
For a nativity—for a nativity;
Mirrors so magical,
Tetrapods tragical,
Bogies spectacular,
Answers oracular,
Facts astronomical,
Solemn or comical,
And, if you want it, he
Makes a reduction on taking a quantity!
Oh!
If any one anything lacks,
He’ll find it all ready in stacks,
If he’ll only look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
He can raise you hosts
Of ghosts,
And that without reflectors;
And creepy things
With wings,
And gaunt and grisly spectres.
He can fill you crowds
Of shrouds,
And horrify you vastly;
He can rack your brains
With chains,
And gibberings grim and ghastly!
Then, if you plan it, he
Changes organity,
With an urbanity
Full of Satanity,
Vexes humanity
With an inanity
Fatal to vanity—
Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!
Barring tautology,
In demonology,
’Lectro-biology,
Mystic nosology,
Spirit philology,
High-class astrology,
Such is his knowledge, he
Isn’t the man to require an apology!
Oh!
My name is John Wellington Wells.
I’m a dealer in magic and spells,
In blessings and curses,
And ever-filled purses,
In prophecies, witches, and knells.
If any one anything lacks,
He’ll find it all ready in stacks,
If he’ll only look in
On the resident Djinn,
Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
Alex. I have sent for you to consult you on a very important matter. I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen Love-at-first-sight Philtre?
Mr. W. Sir, it is our leading article. (Producing a phial.)
Alex. Now, I want to know if you can confidently guarantee it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your advertisement?
Mr. W. Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods. Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection, and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully realized. (Hurt.)
Ali. (aside). Oh, Alexis, don’t offend him! He’ll change us into something dreadful—I know he will!
Alex. I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this village. I shall of course require a quantity. How do you sell it?
Mr. W. In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to want it. We have it in four and a half and nine gallon casks—also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct 10 per cent. for prompt cash.
Ali. Oh, Alexis, surely you don’t want to lay any down!
Alex. Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a few minutes. Go and fetch the teapot.
Ali. But, Alexis——
Alex. My dear, you must obey me, if you please. Go and fetch the teapot.
Ali. (going). I’m sure Dr. Daly would disapprove it.
[Exit Aline into tent.
Alex. And how soon does it take effect?
Mr. W. In half an hour. Whoever drinks of it falls in love, as a matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also tasted it, and his affection is at once returned. One trial will prove the fact.
Enter Aline from tent with large teapot.
Alex. Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you will at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will suffice to affect the whole village.
Ali. But bless me, Alexis, many of the villagers are married people.
Mr. W. Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest principles. On married people it has no effect whatever. But are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you through the fearful ordeal?
Alex. In the good cause I fear nothing.
Mr. W. Very good; then we will proceed at once to the Incantation.
(The stage grows dark.)
Incantation.
Mr. W.Sprites of earth and air—
Fiends of flame and fire—
Demon souls,
Come here in shoals,
This dreadful deed inspire!
Appear, appear, appear!
Male Voices.Good master, we are here!
Mr. W.Noisome hags of night—
Imps of deadly shade—
Pallid ghosts,
Arise in hosts,
And lend me all your aid!
Appear, appear, appear!
Female Voices.Good master, we are here!
Alex. (aside).Hark, they assemble,
These fiends of the night!
Ali. (aside).Oh, Alexis, I tremble.
Seek safety in flight!
Aria.—Aline.
Let us fly to a far-off land,
Where peace and plenty dwell—
Where the sigh of the silver strand
Is echoed in every shell.
To the joy that land will give,
On the wings of Love we’ll fly;
In innocence there to live—
In innocence there to die!
Chorus of Spirits.
Too late—too late,
It may not be!
That happy fate
Is not for thee!
Alexis, Aline, and Mr. Wells.
Too late—too late,
That may not be!
That happy fate
Is not for {me! }
{thee!}
Mr. W.Now, shrivelled hags, with poison bags,
Discharge your loathsome loads!
Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!
Belch forth your venom, toads!
Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,
Shed curses far afield—
Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight
In noisome plenty yield!
Mr. W. (pouring phial into teapot—flash).
Number One!
Chorus.It is done!
Mr. W. (pouring phial into teapot—flash).
Number Two!
Chorus.One too few!
Mr. W. (pouring phial into teapot—flash).
Number Three!
Chorus.Set us free!
Set us free—our work is done.
Ha! ha! ha!
Set us free—our course is run!
Ha! ha! ha!
Aline and Alexis (aside).
Let us fly to a far-off land,
Where peace and plenty dwell—
Where the sigh of the silver strand
Is echoed in every shell.
Chorus of Fiends.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
[Stage grows light. Mr. Wells beckons villagers.
Enter villagers and all the dramatis personæ, dancing joyously. Sir Marmaduke enters with Lady Sangazure from house. Vicar enters, absorbed in thought. He is followed by Constance. Counsel enters, followed by Mrs. Partlet. Mrs. Partlet and Mr. Wells distribute teacups.
Chorus.
Now to the banquet we press;
Now for the eggs, the ham,
Now for the mustard and cress,
Now for the strawberry jam!
Now for the tea of our host,
Now for the rollicking bun,
Now for the muffin and toast,
Now for the gay Sally Lunn!
Women.The eggs, and the ham, and the strawberry jam!
Men.The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!
The rollicking, rollicking bun!
Recitative.—Sir Marmaduke.
Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye,
Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!
Eat, ay, and drink—be merry, I implore ye,
For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.
Teacup Brindisi.
Eat, drink, and be gay,
Banish all worry and sorrow;
Laugh gaily to-day,
Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow!
Come, pass the cup round—
I will go bail for the liquor;
It’s strong, I’ll be bound,
For it was brewed by the vicar!
Chorus.
None so knowing as he
At brewing a jorum of tea,
Ha! ha!
A pretty stiff jorum of tea!
Trio.—Mr. Wells, Aline, and Alexis (aside).
See—see—they drink—
All thought unheeding;
The teacups clink—
They are exceeding!
Their hearts will melt
In half an hour—
Then will be felt
The potion’s power!
[During this verse Constance has brought a small teapot, kettle, caddy, and cosy to Dr. Daly. He makes tea scientifically.
Brindisi, 2nd Verse.—Dr. Daly (with the teapot).
Pain, trouble, and care,
Misery, heart-ache, and worry,
Quick, out of your lair!
Get you all gone in a hurry!
Toil, sorrow, and plot,
Fly away quicker and quicker—
Three spoons to the pot—
That is the brew of your vicar!
Chorus.
None so cunning as he
At brewing a jorum of tea,
Ha! ha!
A pretty stiff jorum of tea!
[Dr. Daly places teapot on tray held by Constance. He covers it with the cosy. She takes tray into the house.
Ensemble.—Alexis and Aline (aside).
Oh, love, true love—unworldly, abiding!
Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy—
Oh, love, true love—divinely confiding,
Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy!
Oh, love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,
Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss—
Oh, love, true love, look down on our sadness—
Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this!
[It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that the charm is working. All rub their eyes.
| Tutti (aside). | Alexis, Mr. Wells, and Aline (aside). |
| Oh, marvellous illusion! | A marvellous illusion— |
| Oh, terrible surprise! | A terrible surprise |
| What is this strange confusion | Excites a strange confusion |
| That veils my aching eyes? | Within their aching eyes— |
| I must regain my senses, | They must regain their senses, |
| Restoring Reason’s law, | Restoring Reason’s law, |
| Or fearful inferences | Or fearful inferences |
| The company will draw! | The company will draw! |
[Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle against its effects, and resume the Brindisi with a violent effort.
Tutti.
Eat, drink, and be gay,
Banish all worry and sorrow,
Laugh gaily to-day,
Weep, if you’re sorry, to-morrow;
Come, pass the cup round—
We will go bail for the liquor;
It’s strong, I’ll be bound,
For it was brewed by the vicar!
None so cunning as he
At brewing a jorum of tea.
Ha! ha!
At brewing a jorum of tea!
ACT II.
Scene.—Market-place in the Village. Rustic houses. In centre a market cross.
Enter Peasants dancing, coupled two and two. An old Man with a young Girl. Then an old Woman with a young Man. Then other ill-assorted couples.
Opening Chorus.
Happy are we in our loving frivolity,
Happy and jolly as people of quality;
Love is the source of all joy to humanity,
Money, position, and rank are a vanity;
Year after year we’ve been waiting and tarrying,
Without ever dreaming of loving and marrying.
Though we’ve been hitherto deaf, dumb, and blind to it,
It’s pleasant enough when you’ve made up your mind to it.
Enter Constance, leading Notary.
Aria.—Constance.
Dear friends, take pity on my lot,
My cup is not of nectar!
I long have loved—as who would not?—
Our kind and reverend rector.
Long years ago my love began
So sweetly—yet so sadly—
But when I saw this plain old man,
Away my old affection ran—
I found I loved him madly.
Oh!
(To Notary.) You very, very plain old man,
I love, I love you madly!
Chorus.You very, very plain old man,
She loves, she loves you madly!
Notary.I am a very deaf old man,
And hear you very badly.
Con.I know not why I love him so;
It is enchantment, surely!
He’s dry and snuffy, deaf and slow,
Ill-tempered, weak, and poorly!
He’s ugly, and absurdly dressed,
And sixty-seven nearly,
He’s everything that I detest,
But if the truth must be confessed,
I love him very dearly!
Oh!
(To Notary.) You’re everything that I detest,
But still I love you dearly!
Chorus.You’re everything that girls detest,
But still she loves you dearly!
Notary.I caught that line, but for the rest
I did not hear it clearly!
[During this verse Aline and Alexis have entered at back, unobserved.
Aline and Alexis.
Alex.Oh, joy! oh, joy!
The charm works well,
And all are now united.
Ali.The blind young boy
Obeys the spell,
Their troth they all have plighted!
Ensemble.
| Aline and Alexis. | Constance. | Notary. |
| Oh, joy! oh, joy! | Oh, bitter joy! | Oh, joy! oh, joy! |
| The charm works well, | No words can tell | No words can tell |
| And all are now | How my poor heart | My state of mind |
| united. | is blighted! | delighted. |
| The blind young boy | They’ll soon employ | They’ll soon employ |
| Obeys the spell, | A marriage bell, | A marriage bell, |
| Their troth they all | To say that we’re | To say that we’re |
| have plighted. | united. | united. |
| True happiness | I do confess | True happiness |
| Reigns everywhere, | A sorrow rare | Reigns everywhere, |
| And dwells with | My humbled spirit | And dwells with |
| both the sexes, | vexes, | both the sexes, |
| And all will bless | And none will bless | And all will bless |
| The thoughtful care | Example rare | Example rare |
| Of their beloved | Of their beloved | Of their beloved |
| Alexis! | Alexis! | Alexis! |
[All, except Alexis and Aline, dance off to symphony.
Ali. How joyful they all seem in their new-found happiness! The whole village has paired off in the happiest manner. And yet not a match has been made that the hollow world would not consider ill-advised!
Alex. But we are wiser—far wiser—than the world. Observe the good that will become of these ill-assorted unions. The miserly wife will check the reckless expenditure of her too frivolous consort, the wealthy husband will shower innumerable bonnets on his penniless bride, and the young and lively spouse will cheer the declining days of her aged partner with comic songs unceasing!
Ali. What a delightful prospect for him!
Alex. But one thing remains to be done, that my happiness may be complete. We must drink the philtre ourselves, that I may be assured of your love for ever and ever.
Ali. Oh, Alexis, do you doubt me? Is it necessary that such love as ours should be secured by artificial means? Oh no, no, no!
Alex. My dear Aline, time works terrible changes, and I want to place our love beyond the chance of change.
Ali. Alexis, it is already far beyond that chance. Have faith in me, for my love can never, never change!
Alex. Then you absolutely refuse?
Ali. I do. If you cannot trust me, you have no right to love me—no right to be loved by me.
Alex. Enough, Aline; I shall know how to interpret this refusal.
Ballad.—Alexis.
Thou hast the power thy vaunted love
To sanctify, all doubt above,
Despite the gathering shade:
To make that love of thine so sure
That, come what may, it must endure
Till time itself shall fade.
Thy love is but a flower
That fades within the hour!
If such thy love, oh, shame!
Call it by other name—
It is not love!
Thine is the power, and thine alone,
To place me on so proud a throne
That kings might envy me!
A priceless throne of love untold,
More rare than orient pearl and gold.
But no! Thou wouldst be free!
Such love is like the ray
That dies within the day!
If such thy love, oh, shame!
Call it by other name—
It is not love!
Enter Dr. Daly.
Dr. D. (musing). It is singular—it is very singular. It has overthrown all my calculations. It is distinctly opposed to the doctrine of averages. I cannot understand it.
Ali. Dear Dr. Daly, what has puzzled you?
Dr. D. My dear, this village has not hitherto been addicted to marrying and giving in marriage. Hitherto the youths of this village have not been enterprising, and the maidens have been distinctly coy. Judge then of my surprise when I tell you that the whole village came to me in a body just now, and implored me to join them in matrimony with as little delay as possible. Even your excellent father has hinted to me that before very long it is not unlikely that he, also, may change his condition.
Ali. Oh, Alexis—do you hear that? Are you not delighted?
Alex. Yes. I confess that a union between your mother and my father would be a happy circumstance indeed. (Crossing to Dr. Daly.) My dear sir, the news that you bring us is very gratifying.
Dr. D. Yes—still, in my eyes, it has its melancholy side. This universal marrying recalls the happy days—now, alas! gone for ever—when I myself might have—but tush! I am puling. I am too old to marry—and yet, within the last half-hour, I have greatly yearned for companionship. I never remarked it before, but the young maidens of this village are very comely. So likewise are the middle-aged. Also the elderly. All are comely—and (with a deep sigh) all are engaged!
Ali. Here comes your father.
Enter Sir Marmaduke with Mrs. Partlet, arm-in-arm.
Ali. and Alex. (aside). Mrs. Partlet!
Sir M. Dr. Daly, give me joy. Alexis, my dear boy, you will, I am sure, be pleased to hear that my declining days are not unlikely to be solaced by the companionship of this good, virtuous, and amiable woman.
Alex. (rather taken aback). My dear father, this is not altogether what I expected. I am certainly taken somewhat by surprise. Still it can hardly be necessary to assure you that any wife of yours is a mother of mine. (Aside to Aline.) It is not quite what I could have wished.
Mrs. P. (crossing to Alexis). Oh, sir, I entreat your forgiveness. I am aware that socially I am not everything that could be desired, nor am I blessed with an abundance of worldly goods, but I can at least confer on your estimable father the great and priceless dowry of a true, tender, and loving heart.
Alex. (coldly). I do not question it. After all, a faithful love is the true source of every earthly joy.
Sir M. I knew that my boy would not blame his poor father for acting on the impulse of a heart that has never yet misled him. Zorah is not, perhaps, what the world call beautiful——
Dr. D. Still she is comely—distinctly comely! (Sighs.)
Ali. Zorah is very good, and very clean and honest, and quite sober in her habits; and that is worth far more than beauty, dear Sir Marmaduke.
Dr. D. Yes; beauty will fade and perish, but personal cleanliness is practically undying, for it can be renewed whenever it discovers symptoms of decay. My dear Sir Marmaduke, I heartily congratulate you. (Sighs.)
Quintette.
Alexis, Aline, Sir Marmaduke, Zorah, and Dr. Daly.
Alex.I rejoice that it’s decided.
Happy now will be his life,
For my father is provided
With a true and tender wife!
Ensemble.She will tend him, nurse him, mend him,
Air his linen, dry his tears.
Bless the thoughtful fates that send him
Such a wife to soothe his years!
Ali.No young giddy thoughtless maiden,
Full of graces, airs, and jeers—
But a sober widow, laden
With the weight of fifty years!
Sir M.No high-born exacting beauty,
Blazing like a jewelled sun—
But a wife who’ll do her duty,
As that duty should be done!
Mrs. P.I’m no saucy minx and giddy—
Hussies such as they abound—
But a clean and tidy widdy,
Well be-known for miles around!
Dr. D.All the village now have mated,
All are happy as can be—
I to live alone am fated:
No one’s left to marry me!
Ensemble.She will tend him, etc.
[Exeunt Sir Marmaduke and Mrs. Partlet, Aline and Alexis. Dr. Daly looks after them sentimentally, then exit with a sigh. Mr. Wells, who has overheard part of this Quintette, and who has remained concealed behind the market cross, comes down as they go off.
Recitative.—Mr. Wells.
Oh, I have wrought much evil with my spells!
An ill I can’t undo!
This is too bad of you, J. W. Wells—
What wrong have they done you?
And see—another love-lorn lady comes—
Alas, poor stricken dame!
A gentle pensiveness her life benumbs—
And mine, alone, the blame!
(Sits at foot of market cross.)
Lady Sangazure enters. She is very melancholy.
Lady S.Alas! ah me! and well-a-day!
I sigh for love, and well I may,
For I am very old and gray.
But stay!
(Sees Mr. Wells, and becomes fascinated by him.)
Recitative.
Lady S. What is this fairy form I see before me?
Mr. W. Oh, horrible!—she’s going to adore me!
This last catastrophe is overpowering!
Lady S. Why do you glare at me with visage lowering?
For pity’s sake, recoil not thus from me!
Mr. W. My lady, leave me—this may never be!
Duet.—Lady Sangazure and Mr. Wells.
Mr. W. Hate me! I drop my H’s—have through life!
Lady S. Love me! I’ll drop them too!
Mr. W. Hate me! I always eat peas with a knife!
Lady S. Love me! I’ll eat like you!
Mr. W. Hate me! I spend the day at Rosherville!
Lady S. Love me! that joy I’ll share!
Mr. W. Hate me! I often roll down One Tree Hill!
Lady S. Love me! I’ll join you there!
Lady S. Love me! my prejudices I will drop!
Mr. W. Hate me! that’s not enough!
Lady S. Love me! I’ll come and help you in the shop!
Mr. W. Hate me! the life is rough!
Lady S. Love me! my grammar I will all forswear!
Mr. W. Hate me! abjure my lot!
Lady S. Love me! I’ll stick sunflowers in my hair!
Mr. W. Hate me! they’ll suit you not!
Recitative.—Mr. Wells.
At what I am going to say be not enraged—
I may not love you—for I am engaged!
Lady S. (horrified). Engaged!
Mr. W.Engaged!
To a maiden fair,
With bright brown hair,
And a sweet and simple smile,
Who waits for me
By the sounding sea,
On a South Pacific isle.
(Aside.)A lie! No maiden waits me there!
Lady S. (mournfully). She has bright brown hair;
Mr. W. (aside). A lie! No maiden smiles on me!
Lady S. (mournfully). By the sounding sea!
Ensemble.
| Lady Sangazure. | Mr. Wells. |
| Oh, agony, rage, despair! | Oh, agony, rage, despair! |
| The maiden has bright brown hair, | Oh, where will this end—oh, where? |
| And mine is as white as snow! | I should like very much to know! |
| False man, it will be your fault | It will certainly be my fault |
| If I go to my family vault, | If she goes to her family vault, |
| And bury my life-long woe! | To bury her life-long woe! |
Both.The family vault—the family vault.
{your}
It will certainly be {my} fault,
{ I go } {my}
If {she goes} to {her} family vault,
{my}
To bury {her} life-long woe!
[Exit Lady Sangazure, in great anguish.
Recitative.—Mr. Wells.
Oh, hideous doom—to scatter desolation,
And sow the seeds of sorrow far and wide!
To foster mésalliances through the nation,
And drive high-born old dames to suicide!
Shall I subject myself to reprobation
By leaving her in solitude to pine?
No! come what may, I’ll make her reparation,
So, aged lady, take me!—I am thine!
[Exit Mr. Wells.
Enter Aline.
Ali. This was to have been the happiest day of my life—but I am very far from happy! Alexis insists that I shall taste the philtre—and when I try to persuade him that to do so would be an insult to my pure and lasting love, he tells me that I object because I do not desire that my love for him shall be eternal. Well (sighing and producing a phial), I can at least prove to him that in that he is unjust!
Recitative.
Alexis! Doubt me not, my loved one! See,
Thine uttered will is sovereign law to me!
All fear—all thought of ill I cast away!
It is my darling’s will, and I obey! (She drinks the philtre.)
The fearful deed is done,
My love is near!
I go to meet my own
In trembling fear!
If o’er us aught of ill
Should cast a shade.
It was my darling’s will,
And I obeyed!
[As Aline is going off, she meets Dr. Daly, entering pensively. He is playing on a flageolet. Under the influence of the spell she at once becomes strangely fascinated by him, and exhibits every symptom of being hopelessly in love with him.
Song.—Dr. Daly.
Oh, my voice is sad and low,
And with timid step I go—
For with load of love o’erladen
I enquire of every maiden,
“Will you wed me, little lady?
Will you share my cottage shady?”
Little lady answers, “No!
Thank you for your kindly proffer—
Good your heart, and full your coffer;
Yet I must decline your offer—
I’m engaged to So-and-so!”
So-and-so!
So-and-so! (flageolet).
She’s engaged to So-and-so!
What a rogue young hearts to pillage!
What a worker on Love’s tillage!
Every maiden in the village
Is engaged to So-and-so!
So-and-so!
So-and-so! (flageolet).
All engaged to So-and-so!
[At the end of the song Dr. Daly sees Aline, and, under the influence of the potion, falls in love with her.
Ensemble.—Aline and Dr. Daly.
Oh, joyous boon! oh, mad delight!
Oh, sun and moon! oh, day and night!
Rejoice, rejoice with me!
Proclaim our joy, ye birds above—
Ye brooklets, murmur forth our love,
In choral ecstasy:
Ali.Oh, joyous boon!
Dr. D.Oh, mad delight!
Ali.Oh, sun and moon!
Dr. D.Oh, day and night!
Both.Ye birds and brooks and fruitful trees,
With choral joy delight the breeze—
Rejoice, rejoice with me!
Enter Alexis.
Recitative.
Alex. (with rapture). Aline, my only love, my happiness!
The philtre—you have tasted it?
Ali. (with confusion).Yes! Yes!
Alex.Oh, joy, mine, mine for ever and for aye.
[Embraces her.
Ali.Alexis, don’t do that—you must not!
[Dr. Daly interposes between them.
Alex. (amazed.)Why?
Duet.—Aline and Dr. Daly.
Ali.Alas! that lovers thus should meet:
Oh, pity, pity me!
Oh, charge me not with cold deceit;
Oh, pity, pity me!
You bade me drink—with trembling awe
I drank, and, by the potion’s law,
I loved the very first I saw!
Oh, pity, pity me!
Dr. D.My dear young friend, consolèd be—
We pity, pity you.
In this I’m not an agent free—
We pity, pity you.
Some most extraordinary spell
O’er us has cast its magic fell—
The consequence I need not tell.
We pity, pity you.
Ensemble.
Some most extraordinary spell
{us}
O’er {them} has cast its magic fell—
{we}
The consequence {they} need not tell.
{We}{thee!
{They} pity, pity {me!
Alex. (furiously). False one, begone—I spurn thee!
To thy new lover turn thee!
Thy perfidy all men shall know.
Ali. (wildly).I could not help it!
Alex. (calling off).Come one, come all!
Dr. D.We could not help it!
Alex. (calling off).Obey my call!
Ali. (wildly).I could not help it!
Alex. (calling off).Come, hither, run!
Dr. D.We could not help it!
Alex. (calling off).Come, every one!
Enter all the characters except Lady Sangazure and Mr. Wells.
Chorus.
Oh, what is the matter, and what is the clatter?
He’s glowering at her, and threatens a blow!
Oh, why does he batter the girl he did flatter?
And why does the latter recoil from him so?
Recitative.—Alexis.
Prepare for sad surprises—
My love Aline despises!
No thought of sorrow shames her—
Another lover claims her!
Be his, false girl, for better or for worse—
But, ere you leave me, may a lover’s curse——
Dr. D. (coming forward). Hold! Be just. This poor child drank the philtre at your instance. She hurried off to meet you—but, most unhappily, she met me instead. As you had administered the potion to both of us, the result was inevitable. But fear nothing from me—I will be no man’s rival. I shall quit the country at once—and bury my sorrow in the congenial gloom of a colonial bishopric.
Alex. My excellent old friend! (Taking his hand—then turning to Mr. Wells, who has entered with Lady Sangazure.) Oh, Mr. Wells, what, what is to be done?
Mr. W. I do not know—and yet—there is one means by which this spell may be removed.
Alex. Name it—oh, name it!
Mr. W. Or you or I must yield up his life to Ahrimanes. I would rather it were you. I should have no hesitation in sacrificing my own life to spare yours, but we take stock next week, and it would not be fair on the Co.
Alex. True. Well, I am ready!
Ali. No, no—Alexis—it must not be! Mr. Wells, if he must die that all may be restored to their old loves, what is to become of me? I should be left out in the cold, with no love to be restored to!
Mr. W. True—I did not think of that. (To the others.) My friends, I appeal to you, and I will leave the decision in your hands.
Finale.
Mr. W. Or I or he
Must die!
Which shall it be?
Reply!
Sir M. Die thou!
Thou art the cause of all offending!
Lady S.Die thou!
Yield thou to this decree unbending!
All. Die thou!
Mr. W. So be it! I submit! My fate is sealed.
To popular opinion thus I yield! (Falls.)
Be happy all—leave me to my despair—
I go—it matters not with whom—or where! (Gong.)
[All quit their present partners, and rejoin their old lovers. Sir Marmaduke leaves Mrs. Partlet, and goes to Lady Sangazure. Aline leaves Dr. Daly, and goes to Alexis. Dr. Daly leaves Aline, and goes to Constance. Notary leaves Constance, and goes to Mrs. Partlet. All the Chorus make a corresponding change.
All.
Gentlemen.Oh, my adored one!
Ladies.Unmingled joy!
Gentlemen.Ecstatic rapture!
Ladies.Beloved boy! (They embrace.)
Sir M. Come to my mansion, all of you! At least
We’ll crown our rapture with another feast.
Ensemble.
Sir Marmaduke, Lady Sangazure, Alexis, and Aline.
Now to the banquet we press;
Now for the eggs and the ham,
Now for the mustard and cress,
Now for the strawberry jam!
Chorus.Now to the banquet, etc.
Dr. Daly, Constance, Notary, and Mrs. Partlet.
Now for the tea of our host,
Now for the rollicking bun,
Now for the muffin and toast,
Now for the gay Sally Lunn!
Chorus.Now for the tea, etc.
(General Dance.)
H.M.S. PINAFORE;
OR,
THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR.
AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL NAUTICAL COMIC OPERA,
IN TWO ACTS.
First produced at the Opera Comique Theatre, by Mr. R. D’Oyly Carte, on Saturday, May 25, 1878.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
| The Rt. Hon. Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B., First Lord of the Admiralty. |
| Captain Corcoran, Commanding H.M.S. Pinafore. |
| Ralph Rackstraw, Able Seaman. |
| Dick Deadeye, Able Seaman. |
| Bill Bobstay, Boatswain’s Mate. |
| Bob Becket, Carpenter’s Mate. |
| Tom Tucker, Midshipmite. |
| Sergeant of Marines. |
| Josephine, the Captain’s Daughter. |
| Hebe, Sir Joseph’s First Cousin. |
| Little Buttercup, a Portsmouth Bumboat Woman. |
First Lord’s Sisters, his Cousins, his Aunts, Sailors, Marines, etc.
SCENE: QUARTER-DECK OF H.M.S. PINAFORE, OFF PORTSMOUTH.
ACT I.—NOON.ACT II.—NIGHT.
H.M.S. PINAFORE;
OR,
THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR.
ACT I.
Scene.—Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore. View of Portsmouth in distance. Sailors, led by Boatswain, discovered cleaning brasswork, splicing rope, etc.
Chorus.
We sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship’s a beauty;
We’re sober men, and true,
And attentive to our duty.
When the balls whistle free o’er the bright blue sea,
We stand to our guns all day;
When at anchor we ride on the Portsmouth tide,
We have plenty of time to play.
Enter Little Buttercup, with large basket on her arm.
Recitative.
Hail, men-o’-war’s men—safeguards of your nation,
Here is an end, at last, of all privation;
You’ve got your pay—spare all you can afford
To welcome Little Buttercup on board.
Aria.
For I’m called Little Buttercup, dear Little Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why,
But still I’m called Buttercup, poor Little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup, I.
I’ve snuff, and tobaccy, and excellent jacky;
I’ve scissors, and watches, and knives;
I’ve ribbons and laces to set off the faces
Of pretty young sweethearts and wives.
I’ve treacle and toffee and excellent coffee,
Soft tommy and succulent chops;
I’ve chickens and conies and pretty polonies,
And excellent peppermint drops.
Then buy of your Buttercup—dear Little Buttercup,
Sailors should never be shy;
So buy of your Buttercup—poor Little Buttercup,
Come, of your Buttercup buy!
Boat. Ay, Little Buttercup—and well called—for you’re the rosiest, the roundest, and the reddest beauty in all Spithead.
But. Red, am I? and round—and rosy! Maybe, for I have dissembled well! But hark ye, my merry friend—hast ever thought that beneath a gay and frivolous exterior there may lurk a cankerworm which is slowly but surely eating its way into one’s very heart?
Boat. No, my lass, I can’t say I’ve ever thought that.
Enter Dick Deadeye. He pushes through Sailors.
Dick. I have thought it often. (All recoil from him.)
But. Yes, you look like it! What’s the matter with the man? Isn’t he well?
Boat. Don’t take no heed of him; that’s only poor Dick Deadeye.
Dick. I say—it’s a beast of a name, ain’t it—Dick Deadeye?
But. It’s not a nice name.
Dick. I’m ugly too, ain’t I?
But. You are certainly plain.
Dick. And I’m three-cornered too, ain’t I?
But. You are rather triangular.
Dick. Ha! ha! That’s it. I’m ugly, and they hate me for it; for you all hate me, don’t you?
Boat. (crossing). Well, Dick, we wouldn’t go for to hurt any fellow-creature’s feelings, but you can’t expect a chap with such a name as Dick Deadeye to be a popular character—now, can you?
Dick. No.
Boat. It’s asking too much, ain’t it?
Dick. It is. From such a face and form as mine the noblest sentiments sound like the black utterances of a depraved imagination. It is human nature—I am resigned.
Recitative.
But. (looking down hatchway).
But, tell me—who’s the youth whose faltering feet
With difficulty bear him on his course?
Boat. (crossing).
That is the smartest lad in all the fleet—
Ralph Rackstraw!
But.Ha! that name! Remorse! remorse!
Enter Ralph from hatchway.
Madrigal.—Ralph.
The nightingale
Loved the pale moon’s bright ray,
And told his tale
In his own melodious way!
He sang “Ah, well-a-day!”
All. He sang “Ah, well-a-day!”
The lowly vale
For the mountain vainly sighed;
To his humble wail
The echoing hills replied.
They sang “Ah, well-a-day!”
All. They sang “Ah, well-a-day!”
Recitative.
I know the value of a kindly chorus,
But choruses yield little consolation,
When we have pain and trouble too before us!
I love—and love, alas, above my station!
But. (aside). He loves—and loves a lass above his station!
All (aside). Yes, yes, the lass is much above his station!
Ballad.—Ralph.
A maiden fair to see,
The pearl of minstrelsy,
A bud of blushing beauty;
For whom proud nobles sigh,
And with each other vie,
To do her menial’s duty.
All. To do her menial’s duty.
A suitor, lowly born,
With hopeless passion torn,
And poor beyond concealing,
Has dared for her to pine
At whose exalted shrine
A world of wealth is kneeling.
All. A world of wealth is kneeling!
Unlearnèd he in aught
Save that which love has taught.
(For love had been his tutor)
Oh, pity, pity me—
Our captain’s daughter she,
And I that lowly suitor!
All. And he that lowly suitor!
[Exit Little Buttercup.
Boat. Ah, my poor lad, you’ve climbed too high: our worthy captain’s child won’t have nothin’ to say to a poor chap like you. Will she, lads?
Dick. No, no, captains’ daughters don’t marry foremast hands.
All (recoiling from him). Shame! shame!
Boat. (crossing). Dick Deadeye, them sentiments o’ yourn are a disgrace to our common natur’.
Ralph. But it’s a strange anomaly, that the daughter of a man who hails from the quarter-deck may not love another who lays out on the fore-yard arm. For a man is but a man, whether he hoists his flag at the maintruck or his slacks on the maindeck.
Dick. Ah, it’s a queer world!
Ralph. Dick Deadeye, I have no desire to press hardly on you, but such a revolutionary sentiment is enough to make an honest sailor shudder.
Boat. (who has gone on poop-deck, returns). My lads, our gallant captain has come on deck; let us greet him as so brave an officer and so gallant a seaman deserves.
Recitative.
Capt.My gallant crew, good morning.
All (saluting).Sir, good morning!
Capt.I hope you’re all well.
All (as before).Quite well; and you, sir?
Capt.I am reasonable in health, and happy
To meet you all once more.
All (as before).You do us proud, sir!
Song.—Captain.
Capt. I am the Captain of the Pinafore!
All.And a right good captain, too!
Capt.You’re very, very good,
And be it understood
I command a right good crew.
All.We’re very, very good,
And be it understood
He commands a right good crew.
Capt. Though related to a peer,
I can hand, reef, and steer,
And ship a selvagee;
I am never known to quail
At the fury of a gale,
And I’m never, never sick at sea!
All.What, never?
Capt.No, never!
All.What, never?
Capt.Hardly ever!
All.He’s hardly ever sick at sea!
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore!
Capt. I do my best to satisfy you all—
All.And with you we’re quite content.
Capt.You’re exceedingly polite,
And I think it only right
To return the compliment.
All.We’re exceedingly polite.
And he thinks it’s only right
To return the compliment.
Capt. Bad language or abuse,
I never, never use,
Whatever the emergency;
Though, “bother it,” I may
Occasionally say,
I never use a big, big D——
All.What, never?
Capt.No, never!
All.What, never?
Capt.Hardly ever!
All.Hardly ever swears a big, big D——
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the well-bred Captain of the Pinafore!
[After song exeunt all but Captain.
Enter Little Buttercup.
Recitative.
But. Sir, you are sad. The silent eloquence
Of yonder tear that trembles on your eyelash
Proclaims a sorrow far more deep than common;
Confide in me—fear not—I am a mother!
Capt.Yes, Little Buttercup, I’m sad and sorry—
My daughter, Josephine, the fairest flower
That ever blossomed on ancestral timber,
Is sought in marriage by Sir Joseph Porter,
Our Admiralty’s First Lord, but for some reason,
She does not seem to tackle kindly to it.
But. (with emotion).
Ah, poor Sir Joseph! Ah, I know too well
The anguish of a heart that loves but vainly!
But see, here comes your most attractive daughter.
I go—Farewell!
[Exit.
Capt. (looking after her). A plump and pleasing person!
Enter Josephine on poop. She comes down, twining some flowers which she carries in a small basket.
Ballad.—Josephine.
Sorry her lot who loves too well,
Heavy the heart that hopes but vainly,
Sad are the sighs that own the spell
Uttered by eyes that speak too plainly;
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When love is alive and hope is dead!
Sad is the hour when sets the sun—
Dark is the night to earth’s poor daughters,
When to the ark the wearied one
Flies from the empty waste of waters!
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When love is alive and hope is dead!
Capt. My child, I grieve to see that you are a prey to melancholy. You should look your best to-day, for Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B., will be here this afternoon to claim your promised hand.
Jos. Ah, father, your words cut me to the quick. I can esteem—reverence—venerate Sir Joseph, for he is a great and good man; but oh, I cannot love him! My heart is already given.
Capt. (aside). It is, then, as I feared. (Aloud.) Given? And to whom? Not to some gilded lordling?
Jos. No, father—the object of my love is no lordling. Oh, pity me, for he is but a humble sailor on board your own ship!
Capt. Impossible!
Jos. Yes, it is true—too true.
Capt. A common sailor? Oh, fie!
Jos. I blush for the weakness that allows me to cherish such a passion. I hate myself when I think of the depth to which I have stooped in permitting myself to think tenderly of one so ignobly born, but I love him! I love him! I love him! (Weeps.)
Capt. Come, my child, let us talk this over. In a matter of the heart I would not coerce my daughter—I attach but little value to rank or wealth, but the line must be drawn somewhere. A man in that station may be brave and worthy, but at every step he would commit solecisms that society would never pardon.
Jos. Oh, I have thought of this night and day. But fear not, father. I have a heart, and therefore I love; but I am your daughter, and therefore I am proud. Though I carry my love with me to the tomb, he shall never, never know it.
Capt. You are my daughter, after all. But see, Sir Joseph’s barge approaches, manned by twelve trusty oarsmen and accompanied by the admiring crowd of female relatives that attend him wherever he goes. Retire, my daughter, to your cabin—take this, his photograph, with you—it may help to bring you to a more reasonable frame of mind.
Jos. My own thoughtful father.
[Exit Josephine.
Barcarolle (without.)
Over the bright blue sea
Comes Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B.,
Wherever he may go
Bang-bang the loud nine-pounders go!
Shout o’er the bright blue sea
For Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B.
[During this the Crew have entered on tiptoe, listening attentively to the song.
Chorus of Sailors.
We sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship’s a beauty;
We’re sober men, and true,
And attentive to our duty.
We’re smart and sober men,
And quite devoid of fe-ar,
In all the Royal N.
None are so smart as we are.
Enter Sir Joseph’s Female Relatives. They dance round stage.
Rel. Gaily tripping,
Lightly skipping,
Flock the maidens to the shipping.
Sail. Flags and guns and pennants dipping
All the ladies love the shipping.
Rel. Sailors sprightly
Always rightly
Welcome ladies so politely.
Sail. Ladies who can smile so brightly,
Sailors welcome most politely.
Enter Sir Joseph with Cousin Hebe.
Capt. (from poop). Now give three cheers, I’ll lead the way.
All. Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurray! (Repeat.)
Song.—Sir Joseph.
I am the monarch of the sea,
The Ruler of the Queen’s Navee,
Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants.
Cousin H. And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
Rel. And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
Sir J.When at anchor here I ride,
My bosom swells with pride,
And I snap my fingers at a foeman’s taunts.
Cousin H. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
All. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
Sir J.But when the breezes blow,
I generally go below,
And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants!
Cousin H. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
All. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
His sisters and his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
And his aunts!
Song.—Sir Joseph.
When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an attorney’s firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.
I polished up that handle so carefullee
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen’s Navee!
Chorus.—He polished, etc.
As office boy I made such a mark
That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.
I served the writs with a smile so bland,
And I copied all the letters in a big round hand—
I copied all the letters in a hand so free,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen’s Navee.
Chorus.—He copied, etc.
In serving writs I made such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;
I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit
For the pass examination at the Institute.
And that pass examination did so well for me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen’s Navee!
Chorus.—And that pass examination, etc.
Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership,
And that junior partnership, I ween,
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.
But that kind of ship so suited me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen’s Navee!
Chorus.—But that kind, etc.
I grew so rich that I was sent
By a pocket borough into Parliament.
I always voted at my party’s call,
And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.
I thought so little, they rewarded me
By making me the Ruler of the Queen’s Navee!
Chorus.—He thought so little, etc.
Now, landsmen all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your soul isn’t fettered to an office stool,
Be careful to be guided by this golden rule—
Stick close to your deska and never go to sea,
And you all may be Rulers of the Queen’s Navee!
Chorus.—Stick close, etc.
Sir J. You’ve a remarkably fine crew, Captain Corcoran.
Capt. It is a fine crew, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. (examining a very small midshipman). A British sailor is a splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran.
Capt. A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain Corcoran.
Capt. Indeed, I hope so, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. Never forget that they are the bulwarks of England’s greatness, Captain Corcoran.
Capt. So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. What percentage of words are spelled phonetically? No bullying, I trust—no strong language of any kind, eh?
Capt. Oh, never, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. What, never?
Capt. Hardly ever, Sir Joseph. They are an excellent crew, and do their work thoroughly without it.
Sir J. (reproving). Don’t patronize them, sir—pray, don’t patronize them.
Capt. Certainly not, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. That you are their captain is an accident of birth. I cannot permit these noble fellows to be patronized because an accident of birth has placed you above them and them below you.
Capt. I am the last person to insult a British sailor, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran. Desire that splendid seaman to step forward.
Capt. Ralph Rackstraw, come here.
Sir J. (sternly). If what?
Capt. I beg your pardon——
Sir J. If you please.
Capt. Oh yes, of course. If you please.
[Ralph steps forward.
Sir J. You’re a remarkably fine fellow.
Ralph. Yes, your honour.
Sir J. And a first-rate seaman, I’ll be bound.
Ralph. There’s not a smarter topman in the navy, your honour, though I say it who shouldn’t.
Sir J. Not at all. Proper self-respect, nothing more. Can you dance a hornpipe?
Ralph. No, your honour.
Sir J. That’s a pity: all sailors should dance hornpipes. I will teach you one this evening, after dinner. Now, tell me—don’t be afraid—how does your captain treat you, eh?
Ralph. A better captain don’t walk the deck, your honour.
All. Hear!
Sir J. Good. I like to hear you speak well of your commanding officer; I dare say he don’t deserve it, but still it does you credit. Can you sing?
Ralph. I can hum a little, your honour.
Sir J. Then hum this at your leisure. (Giving him MS. music.) It is a song that I have composed for the use of the Royal Navy. It is designed to encourage independence of thought and action in the lower branches of the service, and to teach the principle that a British sailor is any man’s equal, excepting mine. Now, Captain Corcoran, a word with you in your cabin, on a tender and sentimental subject.
Capt. Ay, ay, Sir Joseph. Boatswain, in commemoration of this joyous occupation, see that extra grog is served out to the ship’s company at one bell.
Boat. Beg pardon. If what, your honour?
Capt. If what? I don’t think I understand you.
Boat. If you please, your honour.
Capt. What!
Sir J. The gentleman is quite right. If you please.
Capt. (stamping his foot impatiently). If you please!
Sir J.For I hold that on the seas
The expression, “If you please,”
A particularly gentlemanly tone implants.
Cousin H. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
All. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
[Exeunt Captain and Sir Joseph into cabin.
Boat. Ah! Sir Joseph’s a true gentleman: courteous and considerate to the very humblest.
Ralph. True, Boatswain; but we are not the very humblest. Sir Joseph has explained our true position to us. As he says, a British seaman is any man’s equal excepting his; and if Sir Joseph says that, is it not our duty to believe him?
All. Well spoke! well spoke!
Dick. You’re on a wrong tack, and so is he. He means well, but he don’t know. When people have to obey other people’s orders, equality’s out of the question.
All (recoiling). Horrible! horrible!
Boat. Dick Deadeye, if you go for to infuriate this here ship’s company too far, I won’t answer for being able to hold ’em in. I’m shocked! that’s what I am—shocked!
Ralph (coming forward). Messmates, my mind’s made up. I’ll speak to the captain’s daughter, and tell her, like an honest man, of the honest love I have for her.
All. Hurrah!
Ralph. Is not my love as good as another’s? Is not my heart as true as another’s? Have I not hands and eyes and ears and limbs like another?
All. Ay, ay.
Ralph. True, I lack birth——
Boat. You’ve a berth on board this very ship.
Ralph. Well said—I had forgotten that. Messmates, what do you say? do you approve my determination?
All. We do.
Dick. I don’t.
Boat. What is to be done with this here hopeless chap? Let us sing him the song that Sir Joseph has kindly composed for us. Perhaps it will bring this here miserable creetur to a proper state of mind.
Glee.—Ralph, Boatswain, Boatswain’s Mate, and Chorus.
A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird!
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word.
His nose should pant and his lip should curl,
His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl,
His bosom should heave and his heart should glow,
And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.
Chorus.—His nose should pant, etc.
His eyes should flash with an inborn fire,
His brow with scorn be wrung;
He never should bow down to a domineering frown,
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue.
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl,
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude! (Pose.)
Chorus.—His foot should stamp, etc.
[All strike attitude and then dance off to hornpipe down hatchway, excepting Ralph, who remains, leaning pensively against bulwark.
Enter Josephine from cabin.
Jos. It is useless—Sir Joseph’s attentions nauseate me. I know that he is a truly great and good man, but to me he seems tedious, fretful, and dictatorial. Yet his must be a mind of no common order, or he would not dare to teach my dear father to dance a hornpipe on the cabin table. (Sees Ralph.) Ralph Rackstraw! (Overcome by emotion.)
Ralph. Ay, lady—no other than poor Ralph Rackstraw!
Jos. (aside). How my head beats! (Aloud.) And why poor, Ralph?
Ralph. I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady—rich only in never-ending unrest. In me there meet a combination of antithetical elements which are at eternal war with one another. Driven hither by objective influences—thither by subjective emotions—wafted one moment into blazing day by mocking hope—plunged the next into the Cimmerian darkness of tangible despair, I am but a living ganglion of irreconcilable antagonisms. I hope I make myself clear, lady?
Jos. Perfectly. (Aside.) His simple eloquence goes to my heart. Oh, if I dared—but no, the thought is madness! (Aloud.) Dismiss these foolish fancies, they torture you but needlessly. Come, make one effort.
Ralph (aside). I will—one. (Aloud.) Josephine!
Jos. (indignantly). Sir!
Ralph. Ay, even though Jove’s armoury were launched at the head of the audacious mortal whose lips, unhallowed by relationship, dared to breathe that precious word, yet would I breathe it once, and then perchance be silent evermore. Josephine, in one brief breath I will concentrate the hopes, the doubts, the anxious fears of six weary months. Josephine, I am a British sailor, and I love you!
Jos. Sir, this audacity! (Aside.) Oh, my heart, my heart! (Aloud.) This unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common sailor! (Aside.) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (Aloud.) Oh, sir, you forget the disparity in our ranks.
Ralph. I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my life is in thy hand—I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I lack in education and polite accomplishments, that I will endeavour to acquire. Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for consolation. I am proud, and cannot stoop to implore. I have spoken, and I wait your word!
Jos. You shall not wait long. Your proffered love I haughtily reject. Go, sir, and learn to cast your eyes on some village maiden in your own poor rank—they should be lowered before your captain’s daughter!
Duet.-Josephine and Ralph.
Jos. Refrain, audacious tar,
Your suit from pressing,
Remember what you are,
And whom addressing!
Proud lords to seek my hand
In throngs assemble,
The loftiest in the land
Bow down and tremble!
(Aside.)I’d laugh my rank to scorn
In union holy,
Were he more highly born
Or I more lowly!
Ralph. Proud lady, have your way
Unfeeling beauty!
You speak and I obey,
It is my duty!
I am the lowliest tar
That sails the water.
And you, proud maiden, are
My captain’s daughter!
(Aside.)My heart with anguish torn
Bows down before her,
She laughs my love to scorn,
Yet I adore her.
[Repeat refrain ensemble, then exit Josephine into cabin.
Recitative.—Ralph.
Can I survive this overbearing
Or live a life of mad despairing,
My proffered love despised, rejected?
No, no, it’s not to be expected!
(Calling off.) Messmates, ahoy!
Come here! Come here!
Enter Sailors, Hebe, and Relatives.
All.Ay, ay, my boy,
What cheer, what cheer?
Now tell us, pray,
Without delay,
What does she say—
What cheer, what cheer?
Ralph (to Cousin Hebe).
The maiden treats my suit with scorn,
Rejects my humble love, my lady;
She says I am ignobly born,
And cuts my hopes adrift, my lady.
All.Oh, cruel one!
Dick.She spurns your suit? Oho! Oho!
I told you so, I told you so.
Sail. and Rel.Shall {we} submit? Are {we} but slaves?
{they}{they}
Love comes alike to high and low—
Britannia’s sailors rule the waves,
And shall they stoop to insult? No!
Dick.You must submit, you are but slaves;
A lady she! Oho! Oho!
You lowly toilers of the waves,
She spurns you all—I told you so!
(Goes off.)
Ralph (drawing a pistol).
My friends, my leave of life I’m taking,
For oh, for oh, my heart is breaking.
When I am gone, oh, prithee tell
The maid that, as I died, I loved her well! (Loading it.)
All (turning away, weeping).
Of life, alas! his leave he’s taking.
For, ah! his faithful heart is breaking.
When he is gone we’ll surely tell
The maid that, as he died, he loved her well.
(During chorus he has loaded pistol.)
Ralph.Be warned, my messmates all
Who love in rank above you—
For Josephine I fall!
(Puts pistol to his head. All the sailors stop their ears.)
Enter Josephine.
Jos.Ah! stay your hand! I love you!
All.Ah! stay your hand—she loves you!
Ralph (incredulously).Loves me?
Jos. Loves you!
All.Yes, yes—ah, yes—she loves you!
Ensemble.
Sailors and Relatives, and Josephine.
Oh, joy! oh, rapture unforeseen!
For now the sky is all serene;
The god of day—the orb of love,
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all a-blaze.
With wooing words and loving song,
We’ll chase the lagging hours along.
{I find}
And if {we find} the maiden coy,
I’ll}
We’ll} murmur forth decorous joy
In dreamy roundelays!
Dick Deadeye.
He thinks he’s won his Josephine,
But though the sky is now serene,
A frowning thunderbolt above
May end their ill-assorted love
Which now is all a-blaze.
Our captain, ere the day is gone,
Will be extremely down upon
The wicked men who art employ
To make his Josephine his coy
In many various ways.
Jos.This very night,
Hebe.With bated breath
Ralph.And muffled oar—
Jos.Without a light,
Hebe.As still as death,
Ralph.We’ll steal ashore.
Jos.A clergyman
Ralph.Shall make us one
Boat.At half-past ten,
Jos.And then we can
Ralph.Return, for none
Boat.Can part us then!
All.This very night, etc.
(Dick appears at hatchway.)
Dick.Forbear, nor carry out the scheme you’ve planned,
She is a lady—you a foremast hand!
Remember, she’s your gallant captain’s daughter,
And you the meanest slave that crawls the water!
All. Back, vermin, back,
Nor mock us!
Back, vermin, back,
You shock us!
Let’s give three cheers for the sailor’s bride
Who casts all thought of rank aside—
Who gives up house and fortune too
For the honest love of a sailor true!
For a British tar is a soaring soul
As free as a mountain bird!
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word!
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl,
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude. (Pose.)
(General Dance.)
ACT II.
Same Scene. Night. Moonlight.
Captain discovered singing on poop-deck, and accompanying himself on a mandolin. Little Buttercup seated on quarter-deck, near gun, gazing sentimentally at him.
Song.—Captain.
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens;
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
I have lived hitherto
Free from breath of slander,
Beloved by all my crew—
A really popular commander.
But now my kindly crew rebel;
My daughter to a tar is partial;
Sir Joseph storms, and, sad to tell,
He threatens a court martial!
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens;
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
But. How sweetly he carols forth his melody to the unconscious moon! Of whom is he thinking? Of some high-born beauty? It may be! (Sighing.) Who is poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his glance to fall on one so lowly! And yet if he knew——
[Captain has come down from poop-deck.
Capt. Ah! Little Buttercup, still on board? That is not quite right, little one. It would have been more respectable to have gone on shore at dusk.
But. True, dear Captain—but the recollection of your sad pale face seemed to chain me to the ship. I would fain see you smile before I go.
Capt. Ah! Little Buttercup, I fear it will be long before I recover my accustomed cheerfulness, for misfortunes crowd upon me, and all my old friends seem to have turned against me!
But. Oh no—do not say “all,” dear Captain. That were unjust to one, at least.
Capt. True, for you are staunch to me. (Aside.) If ever I gave my heart again, methinks it would be to such a one as this! (Aloud.) I am deeply touched by your innocent regard for me, and were we differently situated, I think I could have returned it. But as it is, I fear I can never be more to you than a friend.
But. (change of manner). I understand! You hold aloof from me because you are rich and lofty—and I, poor and lowly. But take care! The poor bumboat woman has gipsy blood in her veins, and she can read destinies. There is a change in store for you!
Capt. A change!
But. Ay—be prepared!
Duet.—Little Buttercup and Captain.
But. Things are seldom what they seem:
Skim milk masquerades as cream;
Highlows pass as patent leathers;
Jackdaws strut in peacocks’ feathers.
Capt. (puzzled). Very true,
So they do.
But. Black sheep dwell in every fold
All that glitters is not gold;
Storks turn out to be but logs;
Bulls are but inflated frogs.
Capt. (puzzled). So they be,
Frequentlee.
But. Drops the wind and stops the mill;
Turbot is ambitious brill;
Gild the farthing if you will,
But it is a farthing still.
Capt. (puzzled). Yes, I know
That is so.
Though to catch your drift I’m striving,
It is shady—it is shady;
I don’t see at what you’re driving,
Mystic lady—mystic lady,
(Aside.)Stern conviction’s o’er me stealing,
That the mystic lady’s dealing
In oracular revealing.
But. (aside).Stern conviction’s o’er him stealing,
That the mystic lady’s dealing
In oracular revealing.
Both.Yes, I know
That is so!
Capt. Though I’m anything but clever,
I could talk like that for ever:
Once a cat was killed by care;
Only brave deserve the fair.
But. Very true,
So they do.
Capt. Wink is often good as nod;
Spoils the child who spares the rod;
Thirsty lambs run foxy dangers;
Dogs are found in many mangers.
But. Frequentlee,
I agree.
Capt. Paw of cat the chestnut snatches;
Worn-out garments show new patches;
Only count the chick that hatches;
Men are grown up catchy-catchies.
But. Yes, I know
That is so.
(Aside.)Though to catch my drift he’s striving,
I’ll dissemble—I’ll dissemble;
When he sees at what I’m driving,
Let him tremble—let him tremble!
Ensemble.
{ I }
Though a mystic tone {you} borrow,
I shall}
You will} learn truth with sorrow,
Here to-day and gone to-morrow;
Yes, I know
That is so!
[At the end exit Little Buttercup, melodramatically.
Capt. Incomprehensible as her utterances are, I nevertheless feel that they are dictated by a sincere regard for me. But to what new misery is she referring? Time alone can tell!
Enter Sir Joseph.
Sir J. Captain Corcoran, I am much disappointed with your daughter. In fact, I don’t think she will do.
Capt. She won’t do, Sir Joseph!
Sir J. I’m afraid not. The fact is, that although I have urged my suit with as much eloquence as is consistent with an official utterance, I have done so hitherto without success. How do you account for this?
Capt. Really, Sir Joseph, I hardly know. Josephine is, of course, sensible of your condescension.
Sir J. She naturally would be.
Capt. But perhaps your exalted rank dazzles her.
Sir J. You think it does?
Capt. I can hardly say; but she is a modest girl, and her social position is far below your own. It may be that she feels she is not worthy of you.
Sir J. That is really a very sensible suggestion, and displays more knowledge of human nature than I had given you credit for.
Capt. See, she comes. If your lordship would kindly reason with her, and assure her, officially, that it is a standing rule at the Admiralty that love levels all ranks, her respect for an official utterance might induce her to look upon your offer in its proper light.
Sir J. It is not unlikely. I will adopt your suggestion. But soft, she is here. Let us withdraw, and watch our opportunity.
Enter Josephine from cabin. Sir Joseph retires up and watches her.
Scena.—Josephine.
The hours creep on apace,
My guilty heart is quaking!
Oh that I might retract
The step that I am taking.
Its folly it were easy to be showing,
What I am giving up and whither going.
On the one hand, papa’s luxurious home,
Hung with ancestral armour and old brasses,
Carved oak and tapestry from distant Rome,
Rare “blue and white” Venetian finger-glasses,
Rich Oriental rugs, luxurious sofa pillows,
And everything that isn’t old, from Gillow’s.
And on the other, a dark dingy room
In some back street, with stuffy children crying,
Where organs yell, and clacking housewives fume,
And clothes are hanging out all day a-drying;
With one cracked looking-glass to see your face in,
And dinner served up in a pudding basin!
A simple sailor, lowly born,
Unlettered and unknown,
Who toils for bread from early morn
Till half the night has flown!
No golden rank can he impart—
No wealth of house or land—
No fortune save his trusty heart
And honest brown right hand!
And yet he is so wondrous fair
That love for one so passing rare,
So peerless in his manly beauty,
Were little else than solemn duty!
Oh, god of love, and god of reason, say,
Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey!
Sir J. (coming forward). Madam, it has been represented to me that you are appalled by my exalted rank; I desire to convey to you, officially, my assurance that if your hesitation is attributable to that circumstance, it is uncalled for.
Jos. Oh! then your lordship is of opinion that married happiness is not inconsistent with discrepancy in rank?
Sir J. I am officially of that opinion.
Jos. That the high and the lowly may be truly happy together, provided that they truly love one another?
Sir J. Madam, I desire to convey to you, officially, my opinion that love is a platform upon which all ranks meet.
Jos. I thank you, Sir Joseph. I did hesitate, but I will hesitate no longer. (Aside.) He little thinks how eloquently he has pleaded his rival’s cause!
Captain has entered; during this speech he comes forward.
Trio.—Sir Joseph, Captain, and Josephine.
Capt.Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore,
Though his lordship’s station’s mighty,
Though stupendous be his brain,
Though your tastes are mean and flighty
And your fortune poor and plain——
Capt. and Sir J. Ring the merry bells on board ship,
Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of {his} lordship
{my}
With a humble captain’s child!
Capt.For a humble captain’s daughter——
Jos. (aside).For a gallant captain’s daughter——
Sir J.And a lord who rules the water——
Jos. (aside).And a tar who ploughs the water!
All. Let the air with joy be laden,
Rend with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!
Sir J.Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore,
Though your nautical relation (alluding to Captain)
In my set could scarcely pass—
Though you occupy a station
In the lower middle class——
Capt. and Sir J. Ring the merry bells on board ship,
Rend the air with warbling wild,
{his}
For the union of {my} lordship
With a humble captain’s child?
Sir J.For a humble captain’s daughter——
Jos. (aside).For a gallant captain’s daughter——
Capt.And a lord who rules the water——
Jos. (aside).And a tar who ploughs the water!
All. Let the air with joy be laden,
Fill with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!
Jos. Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore
I admit its jurisdiction;
Ably have you played your part;
You have carried firm conviction
To my hesitating heart.
Capt. and Sir J. Ring the merry bells on board ship,
Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of {his} lordship
{my}
With a humble captain’s child!
Capt. and Sir J. For a humble captain’s daughter——
Jos. (aside).For a gallant captain’s daughter——
Capt. and Sir J. And a lord who rules the water——
Jos. (aside).And a tar who ploughs the water!
(Aloud.)Let the air with joy be laden,
Capt. and Sir J. Ring the merry bells on board ship——
Jos.For the union of a maiden——
Capt. and Sir J. For the union with his lordship.
All. Rend with songs the air above
For the man who owns her love!
[Exit Josephine.
Capt. Sir Joseph, I cannot express to you my delight at the happy result of your eloquence. Your argument was unanswerable.
Sir J. Captain Corcoran, it is one of the happiest characteristics of this glorious country that official utterances are invariably regarded as unanswerable. [Exit Sir Joseph into cabin.
Capt. At last my fond hopes are to be crowned. My only daughter is to be the bride of a Cabinet Minister. The prospect is Elysian.
During this speech Dick Deadeye has entered.
Dick. Captain!
Capt. Deadeye! You here? Don’t! (Recoiling from him.)
Dick. Ah, don’t shrink from me, Captain. I’m unpleasant to look at, and my name’s agin me, but I ain’t as bad as I seem.
Capt. What would you with me?
Dick (mysteriously). I’m come to give you warning.
Capt. Indeed! Do you propose to leave the Navy, then?
Dick. No, no, you misunderstand me; listen.
Duet.—Captain and Dick Deadeye.
Dick.Kind Captain, I’ve important information,
Sing hey, the kind commander that you are!
About a certain intimate relation;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar!
Both.The merry maiden and the tar!—
Capt.Good fellow, in conundrums you are speaking,
Sing hey, the mystic sailor that you are!
The answer to them vainly I am seeking;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar!
Both.The merry maiden and the tar!
Dick.Kind Captain, your young lady is a-sighing,
Sing hey, the simple captain that you are!
This very night with Rackstraw to be flying;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar!
Both.The merry maiden and the tar!
Capt.Good fellow, you have given timely warning,
Sing hey, the thoughtful sailor that you are!
I’ll talk to Master Rackstraw in the morning;
Sing hey, the cat-o’-nine-tails and the tar!
(Producing a “cat.”)
Both.The merry cat-o’-nine-tails and the tar!
Capt. Dick Deadeye, I thank you for your warning; I will at once take means to arrest their flight. This boat-cloak will afford me ample disguise. So! (Envelopes himself in a mysterious cloak, holding it before his face.)
Dick. Ha! ha! They are foiled—foiled—foiled!
Enter Crew on tiptoe, with Ralph and Boatswain, meeting Josephine, who enters from cabin on tiptoe, with bundle of necessaries, and accompanied by Little Buttercup. The Captain, shrouded in his boat-cloak, watches them unnoticed.
Ensemble.
Carefully on tiptoe stealing,
Breathing gently as we may,
Every step with caution feeling,
We will softly steal away.
(Captain stamps-chord.)
All (much alarmed).Goodness me!
Why, what was that?
Dick.Silent be,
It was the cat!
All (reassured).It was—it was the cat!
Capt. (producing cat-o’-nine-tails).
They’re right, it was the cat!
All. Pull ashore, in fashion steady,
Hymen will defray the fare,
For a clergyman is ready
To unite the happy pair!
(Stamp as before, and chord.)
All. Goodness me!
Why, what was that?
Dick.Silent be,
Again the cat!
All. It was again that cat!
Capt. (aside). They’re right, it was the cat!
(Throwing off cloak.)Hold! (All start.)
Pretty daughter of mine,
I insist upon knowing
Where you may be going
With these sons of the brine;
For my excellent crew,
Though foes they could thump any,
Are scarcely fit company,
My daughter, for you.
Crew.Now, hark at that, do!
Though foes we could thump any,
We are scarcely fit company
For a lady like you!
Ralph. Proud officer, that haughty lip uncurl!
Vain man, suppress that supercilious sneer,
For I have dared to love your matchless girl,
A fact well known to all my messmates here!
Capt.Oh, horror!
Ralph and Jos. {I,} humble, poor, and lowly born,
{He,}
The meanest in the port division—
The butt of epauletted scorn—
The mark of quarter-deck derision—
Have} {my}
Has} dared to raise {his} wormy eyes
Above the dust to which you’d mould {me!
{him!
In manhood’s glorious pride to rise.
I am}{me!
He is} an Englishman—behold {him!
All. He is an Englishman!
Boat.He is an Englishman!
For he himself has said it,
And it’s greatly to his credit,
That he is an Englishman!
All. That he is an Englishman!
Boat.For he might have been a Roosian,
A French, or Turk, or Proosian,
Or perhaps Itali-an!
All. Or perhaps Itali-an!
Boat.But in spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,
He remains an Englishman!
All.Hurrah!
For the true-born Englishman!
Capt. (trying to repress his anger).
In uttering a reprobation
To any British tar,
I try to speak with moderation,
But you have gone too far.
I’m very sorry to disparage
A humble foremast lad,
But to seek your captain’s child in marriage,
Why, damme, it’s too bad!
During this Cousin Hebe and Female Relatives have entered.
All (shocked).Oh!
Capt.Yes, damme, it’s too bad!
Capt. and Dick Deadeye. Yes, damme, it’s too bad.
During this Sir Joseph has appeared on poop-deck. He is horrified at the bad language.
Hebe. Did you hear him—did you hear him?
Oh, the monster overbearing!
Don’t go near him—don’t go near him—
He is swearing—he is swearing.
Sir J. (with impressive dignity).
My pain and my distress
I find it is not easy to express;
My amazement—my surprise—
You may learn from the expression of my eyes!
Capt.My lord, one word—the facts are known before you;
The word was injudicious, I allow—
But hear my explanation, I implore you,
And you will be indignant, too, I vow!
Sir J.I will hear of no defence,
Attempt none if you’re sensible.
That word of evil sense
Is wholly indefensible.
Go, ribald, get you hence
To your cabin with celerity.
This is the consequence
Of ill-advised asperity!
[Exit Captain, disgraced, followed by Josephine.
All. Behold the consequence
Of ill-advised asperity!
Sir J.For I’ll teach you all, ere long,
To refrain from language strong.
For I haven’t any sympathy for ill-bred taunts!
Hebe. No more have his sisters, nor his cousins, nor his aunts.
All. For he is an Englishman, etc.
Sir J. Now, tell me, my fine fellow—for you are a fine fellow——
Ralph. Yes, your honour.
Sir J. How came your captain so far to forget himself? I am quite sure you had given him no cause for annoyance.
Ralph. Please your honour, it was thus wise. You see, I’m only a topman—a mere foremast hand——
Sir J. Don’t be ashamed of that. Your position as a topman is a very exalted one.
Ralph. Well, your honour, love burns as brightly in the fo’c’sle as it does on the quarter-deck, and Josephine is the fairest bud that ever blossomed upon the tree of a poor fellow’s wildest hopes.
Enter Josephine; she rushes to Ralph’s arms. Sir Joseph horrified.
She’s the figurehead of my ship of life—the bright beacon that guides me into my port of happiness—the rarest, the purest gem that ever sparkled on a poor but worthy fellow’s trusting brow.
All. Very pretty.
Sir J. Insolent sailor, you shall repent this outrage. Seize him!
[Two Marines seize him and handcuff him.
Jos. Oh, Sir Joseph, spare him, for I love him tenderly.
Sir J. Away with him. I will teach this presumptuous mariner to discipline his affections. Have you such a thing as a dungeon on board?
All. We have!
Sir J. Then load him with chains and take him there at once!
Octette.
Ralph. Farewell, my own!
Light of my life, farewell!
For crime unknown
I go to a dungeon cell.
All. For crime, etc.
Jos.In the mean time, farewell!
And all alone
Rejoice in your dungeon cell!
All. And all, etc.
Sir J.A bone, a bone
I’ll pick with this sailor fell;
Let him be shown
At once to his dungeon cell.
All. Let him, etc.
Boat.}He’ll hear no tone
Dick.}Of the maiden he loves so well!
Hebe.}No telephone
Communicates with his cell!
All. No telephone, etc.
But. (mysteriously).
But when is known
The secret I have to tell,
Wide will be thrown
The door of his dungeon cell.
All. Wide will be thrown
The door of his dungeon cell!
[All repeat respective verses, ensemble. At the end Ralph is led off in custody.
Sir J. Josephine, I cannot tell you the distress I feel at this most painful revelation. I desire to express to you, officially, that I am hurt. You, whom I honoured by seeking in marriage—you, the daughter of a captain in the Royal Navy!
But. Hold! I have something to say to that?
Sir J. You?
But. Yes, I!
Song.—Buttercup.
A many years ago,
When I was young and charming,
As some of you may know
I practised baby-farming.
All. Now this is most alarming!
When she was young and charming,
She practised baby-farming,
A many years ago.
But.Two tender babes I nussed:
One was of low condition,
The other, upper crust,
A regular patrician.
All (explaining to each other).
Now, this is the position:
One was of low condition,
The other a patrician,
A many years ago.
But.Oh, bitter is my cup!
However could I do it?
I mixed those children up,
And not a creature knew it!
All. However could you do it?
Some day, no doubt, you’ll rue it,
Although no creature knew it,
So many years ago.
But.In time each little waif
Forsook his foster-mother.
The well-born babe was Ralph—
Your captain was the other!
All. They left their foster-mother.
The one was Ralph, our brother—
Our captain was the other,
A many years ago.
Sir J. Then I am to understand that Captain Corcoran and Ralph were exchanged in childhood’s happy hour—that Ralph is really the Captain, and the Captain is Ralph?
But. That is the idea I intended to convey?
Sir J. You have done it very well. Let them appear before me, at once!
Ralph enters as Captain; Captain as a common sailor. Josephine rushes to his arms.
Jos. My father—a common sailor!
Capt. It is hard, is it not, my dear?
Sir J. This is a very singular occurrence; I congratulate you both. (To Ralph.) Desire that remarkably fine seaman to step forward.
Ralph. Corcoran, come here.
Capt. If what? If you please.
Sir J. Perfectly right. If you please.
Ralph. Oh. If you please.
[Captain steps forward.
Sir J. (to Captain). You are an extremely fine fellow.
Capt. Yes, your honour.
Sir J. So it seems that you were Ralph, and Ralph was you.
Capt. So it seems, your honour.
Sir J. Well, I need not tell you that after this change in your condition, a marriage with your daughter will be out of the question.
Capt. Don’t say that, your honour—love levels all ranks.
Sir J. It does to a considerable extent, but it does not level them as much as that. (Handing Josephine to Ralph.) Here—take her, sir, and mind you treat her kindly.
Ralph and Jos.Oh, bliss! oh, rapture!
Sir J.Sad my lot, and sorry,
What shall I do? I cannot live alone!
All. What will he do? he cannot live alone!
Hebe. Fear nothing—while I live I’ll not desert you.
I’ll soothe and comfort your declining days.
Sir J. No, don’t do that.
Hebe.Yes, but indeed I’d rather.
Sir J. (resigned).
To-morrow morn our vows shall all be plighted,
Three loving pairs on the same day united!
Duet.—Ralph and Josephine.
Oh, joy! oh, rapture unforeseen!
The clouded sky is now serene;
The god of day—the orb of love,
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all ablaze.
With wooing words and loving song,
We’ll chase the lagging hours along;
{he finds}
And if {I find } the maiden coy,
We’ll murmur forth decorous joy,
In dreamy roundelays.
Capt.For he is the Captain of the Pinafore.
All. And a right good captain too!
Capt.And though before my fall
I was Captain of you all,
I’m a member of the crew.
All. Although before his fall, etc.
Capt.I shall marry with a wife
In my own rank of life! (Turning to Buttercup.)
And you, my love, are she.
I must wander to and fro,
But wherever I may go,
I shall never be untrue to thee!
All. What, never?
Capt.No, never!
All. What, never?
Capt.Hardly ever!
All. Hardly ever be untrue to thee.
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the faithful seamen of the Pinafore.
But. For he loves Little Buttercup, dear Little Buttercup,
I’m sure I shall never know why;
But still he loves Buttercup, poor Little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup, ay!
All. For he loves, etc.
Sir J.I’m the monarch of the sea,
And when I’ve married thee (to Hebe)
I’ll be true to the devotion that my love implants.
Hebe. Then good-bye to his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts,
Especially his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
His sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
All. For he is an Englishman,
And he himself hath said it,
And it’s greatly to his credit
That he is an Englishman!
THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE;
OR,
THE SLAVE OF DUTY.
AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL COMIC OPERA,
IN TWO ACTS.
First produced at the Opera Comique Theatre, by Mr. R. D’Oyly Carte, on Saturday, 3rd April, 1880.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
| Major-General Stanley | Mr. George Grossmith. |
| The Pirate King | Mr. Richard Temple. |
| Samuel, his Lieutenant | Mr. George Temple. |
| Frederic, the Pirate Apprentice | Mr. George Power. |
| Sergeant of Police | Mr. Rutland Barrington. |
| Mabel, General Stanley’s Daughter | Miss Marion Hood. |
| Edith | Miss Jessie Bond. |
| Kate | Miss Julia Gwynne. |
| Isabel | Miss M. Barlow. |
| Ruth, a Pirate Maid of all Work | Miss Alice Barnett. |
Chorus of Pirates, Police, and General Stanley’s Daughters.
THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE;
OR,
THE SLAVE OF DUTY.
ACT I.
Scene.—A rocky sea-shore on the coast of Cornwall. Under the rock is a cavern. In the distance is a calm sea, on which a schooner is lying at anchor. As the curtain rises groups of Pirates are discovered—some drinking, some playing cards. Samuel, the pirate lieutenant, is going from one group to the other, filling the cups from a flask. Frederic is seated in a despondent attitude at the back of the scene. Ruth kneels at his feet.
Opening Chorus.
All. Pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry;
Fill, oh, fill the pirate glass;
And, to make us more than merry,
Let the pirate bumper pass.
Solo. } For to-day our pirate ’prentice
Sam. } Rises from indenture freed;
Strong his arm and keen his scent is,
He’s a pirate now indeed!
All. Here’s good luck to Frederic’s ventures!
Frederic’s out of his indentures.
Solo. } Two and twenty now he’s rising,
Sam. } And alone he’s fit to fly,
Which we’re bent on signalizing
With unusual revelry.
All. Here’s good luck to Frederic’s ventures!
Frederic’s out of his indentures,
So pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry, etc.
[Frederic rises and comes forward with Pirate King.
King. Yes, Frederic, from to-day you rank as a full-blown member of our band.
All. Hurrah!
Fred. My friends, I thank you all, from my heart, for your kindly wishes. Would that I could repay them as they deserve!
King. What do you mean?
Fred. To-day I am out of my indentures, and to-day I leave you for ever.
King. But this is quite unaccountable; a keener hand at scuttling a Cunarder or cutting out a White Star never shipped a handspike.
Fred. Yes, I have done my best for you. And why? It was my duty under my indentures, and I am the slave of duty. As a child I was regularly apprenticed to your band. It was through an error—no matter, the mistake was ours, not yours, and I was in honour bound by it.
Sam. An error? What error?
Fred. I may not tell you; it would reflect upon my well-loved Ruth.
[Ruth comes down to Frederic.
Ruth. Nay, dear master, my mind has long been gnawed by the cankering tooth of mystery. Better have it out at once.
Song.—Ruth.
When Frederic was a little lad he proved so brave and daring,
His father thought he’d ’prentice him to some career seafaring.
I was, alas, his nursery-maid, and so it fell to my lot
To take and bind the promising boy apprentice to a pilot—
A life not bad for a hardy lad, though certainly not a high lot.
Though I’m a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a pilot.
I was a stupid nursery-maid, on breakers always steering,
And I did not catch the word aright, through being hard of hearing;
Mistaking my instructions, which within my brain did gyrate,
I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to a pirate.
A sad mistake it was to make and doom him to a vile lot.
I bound him to a pirate—you—instead of to a pilot.
I soon found out, beyond all doubt, the scope of this disaster,
But I hadn’t the face to return to my place, and break it to my master.
A nursery-maid is never afraid of what you people call work,
So I made up my mind to go as a kind of piratical maid of all work;
And that is how you find me now a member of your shy lot,
Which you wouldn’t have found, had he been bound apprentice to a pilot.
(Kneeling at his feet.) Oh, pardon! Frederic, pardon!
Fred. Rise, sweet one; I have long pardoned you.
Ruth (rises). The two words were so much alike.
Fred. They were. They still are, though years have rolled over their heads. (Ruth goes up with Samuel.) But this afternoon my obligation ceases. Individually I love you all with affection unspeakable, but collectively, I look upon you with a disgust that amounts to absolute detestation. Oh! pity me, my beloved friend, for such is my sense of duty, that once out of my indentures I shall feel myself bound to devote myself heart and soul to your extermination!
All. Poor lad! poor lad! (All weep.)
King. Well, Frederic, if you conscientiously feel that it is your duty to destroy us, we cannot blame you for acting on that conviction. Always act in accordance with the dictates of your conscience, my boy, and chance the consequences.
Sam. Besides, we can offer you but little temptation to remain with us. We don’t seem to make piracy pay. I’m sure I don’t know why, but we don’t.
Fred. I know why, but, alas! I mustn’t tell you; it wouldn’t be right.
King. Why not, my boy? It’s only half-past eleven, and you are one of us until the clock strikes twelve.
Sam. True, and until then you are bound to protect our interests.
All. Hear, hear!
Fred. Well, then, it is my duty, as a pirate, to tell you that you are too tender-hearted. For instance, you make a point of never attacking a weaker party than yourselves, and when you attack a stronger party, you invariably get thrashed.
King. There is some truth in that.
Fred. Then, again, you make a point of never molesting an orphan!
Sam. Of course: we are orphans ourselves, and know what it is.
Fred. Yes, but it has got about, and what is the consequence? Every one we capture says he’s an orphan. The last three ships we took proved to be manned entirely by orphans, and so we had to let them go. One would think that Great Britain’s mercantile navy was recruited solely from her orphan asylums—which we know is not the case.
Sam. But, hang it all, you wouldn’t have us absolutely merciless?
Fred. There’s my difficulty; until twelve o’clock I would, after twelve I wouldn’t. Was ever a man placed in so delicate a situation!
Ruth. And Ruth, your own Ruth, whom you love so well, and who has won her middle-aged way into your boyish heart, what is to become of her?
King. Oh, he will take you with him.
Fred. Well, Ruth, I feel some little difficulty about you. It is true that I admire you very much, but I have been constantly at sea since I was eight years old, and yours is the only woman’s face I have seen during that time. I think it is a sweet face!
Ruth. It is, oh, it is!
Fred. I say I think it is; that is my impression. But as I have never had an opportunity of comparing you with other women, it is just possible I may be mistaken.
King. True.
Fred. What a terrible thing it would be if I were to marry this innocent person, and then find out that she is, on the whole, plain!
King. Oh, Ruth is very well, very well indeed.
Sam. Yes, there are the remains of a fine woman about Ruth.
Fred. Do you really think so? Then I will not be so selfish as to take her from you. In justice to her, and in consideration for you, I will leave her behind. (Hands Ruth to King.)
King. No, Frederic, this must not be. We are rough men, who lead a rough life, but we are not so utterly heartless as to deprive thee of thy love. I think I am right in saying that there is not one here who would rob thee of this inestimable treasure for all the world holds dear.
All (loudly). Not one!
King. No, I thought there wasn’t. Keep thy love, Frederic, keep thy love. (Hands her back to Frederic.)
Fred. You’re very good, I’m sure.
King. Well, it’s the top of the tide, and we must be off. Farewell, Frederic. When your process of extermination begins, let our deaths be as swift and painless as you can conveniently make them.
Fred. I will! By the love I have for you, I swear it! Would that you could render this extermination unnecessary by accompanying me back to civilization!
King. No, Frederic, it cannot be. I don’t think much of our profession, but, contrasted with respectability, it is comparatively honest. No, Frederic, I shall live and die a pirate king.
Song.—Pirate King.
Oh, better far to live and die
Under the brave black flag I fly,
Than play a sanctimonious part,
With a pirate head and a pirate heart.
Away to the cheating world go you,
Where pirates all are well to do;
But I’ll be true to the song I sing,
And live and die a pirate king.
For I am a pirate king.
All.You are!
Hurrah for our pirate king!
King.And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a pirate king.
All.Hurrah! (Cheering action by Pirates.)
Hurrah for our pirate king!
King.When I sally forth to seek my prey
I help myself in a royal way:
I sink a few more ships, it’s true,
Than a well-bred monarch ought to do;
But many a king on a first-class throne,
If he wants to call his crown his own,
Must manage somehow to get through
More dirty work than ever I do,
Though I am a pirate king.
All.You are!
Hurrah for our pirate king!
King.And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a pirate king!
All.It is!
Hurrah for our pirate king!
[After song, the King, Samuel, and all the Pirates, excepting Frederic and Ruth, go off; Frederic comes, followed by Ruth.
Ruth. Oh, take me with you! I cannot live if I am left behind.
Fred. Ruth, I will be quite candid with you: you are very dear to me, as you know, but I must be circumspect. You see, you are considerably older than I. A lad of twenty-one usually looks for a wife of seventeen.
Ruth. A wife of seventeen! You will find me a wife of a thousand!
Fred. No, but I shall find you a wife of forty-seven, and that is quite enough. Ruth, tell me candidly, and without reserve—compared with other women, how are you?
Ruth. I will answer you truthfully, master; I have a slight cold, but otherwise I am quite well.
Fred. I am sorry for your cold, but I was referring rather to your personal appearance. Compared with other women—are you beautiful?
Ruth (bashfully). I have been told so, dear master.
Fred. Ah, but lately?
Ruth. Oh no, years and years ago.
Fred. What do you think of yourself?
Ruth. It is a delicate question to answer, but I think I am a fine woman.
Fred. That is your candid opinion?
Ruth. Yes, I should be deceiving you if I told you otherwise.
Fred. Thank you, Ruth; I believe you, for I am sure you would not practise on my inexperience. I wish to do the right thing, and if—I say if—you are really a fine woman, your age shall be no obstacle to our union. (Shakes hands with her. Chorus of Girls heard in the distance, “Climbing over rocky mountain” etc. See entrance of Girls.) Hark! Surely I hear voices! Who has ventured to approach our all but inaccessible lair? Can it be Custom House? No, it does not sound like Custom House.
Ruth (aside). Confusion! it is the voices of young girls! If he should see them I am lost.
Fred. (climbing rocky arch and looking off). By all that’s marvellous, a bevy of beautiful maidens!
Ruth (aside). Lost! lost! lost!
Fred. How lovely! how surpassingly lovely is the plainest of them! What grace! what delicacy! what refinement! And Ruth—Ruth told me she was beautiful!
Recitative.
Fred.Oh, false one, you have deceived me.
Ruth.I have deceived you?
Fred.Yes, deceived me. (Denouncing her.)
Duet.—Frederic and Ruth.
Fred.You told me you were fair as gold!
Ruth (wildly). And, master, am I not so?
Fred.And now I see you’re plain and old.
Ruth.I am sure I am not a jot so.
Fred.Upon my ignorance you play.
Ruth.I’m not the one to plot so.
Fred.Your face is lined, your hair is grey.
Ruth.It’s gradually got so.
Fred.Faithless woman to deceive me,
I who trusted so!
Ruth.Master, master, do not leave me.
Hear me, ere you go.
My love, without reflecting,
Oh, do not be rejecting.
Take a maiden tender—her affection, raw and green,
At very highest rating,
Has been accumulating
Summers seventeen—summers seventeen.
Don’t, belovèd master,
Crush me with disaster.
What is such a dower to the dower I have here?
My love, unabating,
Has been accumulating
Forty-seven year—forty-seven year!
Ensemble.
| Ruth. | Frederic. |
| Don’t, beloved master, | Yes, your former master |
| Crush me with disaster. | Saves you from disaster. |
| What is such a dower to the dower I have here, etc. | Your love would be uncomfortably fervid, it is clear, |
| If, as you are stating, | |
| It’s been accumulating | |
| Forty-seven year—forty-seven year. |
[At the end he renounces her, and she goes off in despair.
Recitative—Frederic.
What shall I do? Before these gentle maidens,
I dare not show in this detested costume.
No, better far remain in close concealment
Until I can appear in decent clothing.
[Hides in cave as they enter, climbing over the rocks and through arched rock.
Girls. Climbing over rocky mountain,
Skipping rivulet and fountain;
Passing where the willows quiver
By the ever-rolling river,
Swollen with the summer rain;
Threading long and leafy mazes
Dotted with unnumbered daisies;
Scaling rough and rugged passes,
Climb the hardy little lasses,
Till the bright sea-shore they gain.
Edith. Let us gaily tread the measure,
Make the most of fleeting leisure;
Hail it as a true ally
Though it perish by-and-by.
All. Hail it as a true ally
Though it perish by-and-by.
Edith. Every moment brings a treasure
Of its own especial pleasure.
Though the moments quickly die,
Greet them gaily as they fly.
Kate.Far away from toil and care,
Revelling in fresh sea air,
Here we live and reign alone
In a world that’s all our own.
Here in this our rocky den,
Far away from mortal men,
We’ll be queens, and make decrees;
They may honour them who please.
All. Let us gaily tread the measure, etc.
Kate. What a picturesque spot! I wonder where we are!
Edith. And I wonder where papa is. We have left him ever so far behind.
Isa. Oh, he will be here presently! Remember, poor papa is not as young as we are, and we have come over a rather difficult country.
Kate. But how thoroughly delightful it is to be so entirely alone! Why, in all probability we are the first human beings who ever set foot on this enchanting spot.
Isa. Except the mermaids—it’s the very place for mermaids.
Kate. Who are only human beings down to the waist!
Edith. And who can’t be said strictly to set foot anywhere. Tails they may, but feet they cannot.
Kate. But what shall we do until papa and the servants arrive with the luncheon?
[All rise and come down.
Edith. We are quite alone, and the sea is as smooth as glass. Suppose we take off our shoes and stockings and paddle.
All. Yes, yes. The very thing!
[They prepare to carry out the suggestion. They have all taken off one shoe, when Frederic comes forward from cave.
Recitative.
Fred.Stop, ladies, pray!
All (hopping on one foot).A man!
Fred.I had intended
Not to intrude myself upon your notice
In this effective but alarming costume,
But under these peculiar circumstances
It is my bounden duty to inform you
That your proceedings will not be unwitnessed.
Edith. But who are you, sir? Speak! (All hopping.)
Fred.I am a pirate.
All (recoiling hopping).
A pirate! Horror!
Fred.Ladies, do not shudder!
This evening I renounce my vile profession;
And to that end, oh, pure and peerless maidens!
Oh, blushing buds of ever-blooming beauty!
I, sore of heart, implore your kind assistance.
Edith. How pitiful his tale!
Kate.How rare his beauty!
All. How pitiful his tale! How rare his beauty!
[Put on their shoes, and group in semicircle.
Song.—Frederic.
Oh! is there not one maiden breast
Which does not feel the moral beauty
Of making worldly interest
Subordinate to sense of duty?
Who would not give up willingly
All matrimonial ambition,
To rescue such a one as I
From his unfortunate position?
All. Alas! there’s not one maiden breast
Which seems to feel the moral beauty
Of making worldly interest
Subordinate to sense of duty.
Fred.Oh, is there not one maiden here,
Whose homely face and bad complexion
Have caused all hopes to disappear
Of ever winning man’s affection?
To such a one, if such there be,
I swear by heaven’s arch above you,
If you will cast your eyes on me—
However plain you be—I’ll love you!
All. Alas! there’s not one maiden here,
Whose homely face and bad complexion
Have caused all hope to disappear
Of ever winning man’s affection.
Fred. (in despair). Not one!
All.No, no—not one!
Fred.Not one?
All.No, no!
Mabel enters through arch.
Mab.Yes, one!
All. ’Tis Mabel!
Mab.Yes, ’tis Mabel!
Recitative.—Mabel.
Oh, sisters, deaf to pity’s name,
For shame!
It’s true that he has gone astray,
But pray,
Is that a reason good and true
Why you
Should all be deaf to pity’s name?
For shame!
All (aside). The question is, had he not been a thing of beauty,
Would she be swayed by quite as keen a sense of duty?
Song.—Mabel.
Poor wandering one,
Though thou hast surely strayed,
Take heart of grace,
Thy steps retrace,
Be not afraid.
Poor wandering one,
If such poor love as mine
Can help thee find
True peace of mind—
Why, take it, it is thine!
Take heart, fair days will shine.
Take any heart—take mine.
All. Take heart; no danger lowers.
Take any heart—but ours.
[Mabel and Frederic exit into cave and converse. Kate beckons her sisters, who form in a semicircle around her.
Edith.
What ought we to do,
Gentle sisters, pray?
Propriety, we know,
Says we ought to stay;
While sympathy exclaims,
“Free them from your tether—
Play at other games—
Leave them here together.”
Kate.
Her case may, any day,
Be yours, my dear, or mine.
Let her make her hay
While the sun doth shine.
Let us compromise
(Our hearts are not of leather);
Let us shut our eyes,
And talk about the weather.
Ladies. Yes, yes; let’s talk about the weather.
[Edith, Kate, and Girls retire and sit two and two, facing each other, in a line across.
Mabel and Frederic enter from cave.
Chattering Chorus.
How beautifully blue the sky,
The glass is rising very high,
Continue fine I hope it may,
And yet it rained but yesterday;
To-morrow it may pour again
(I hear the country wants some rain);
Yet people say, I know not why,
That we shall have a warm July.
[During Mabel’s solo the Girls continue chatter pianissimo, but listening eagerly all the time.
Solo—Mabel.
Did ever maiden wake
From dream of homely duty,
To find her daylight break
With such exceeding beauty?
Did ever maiden close
Her eyes on waking sadness,
To dream of goodness knows
How much exceeding gladness?
Fred. Oh yes—ah, yes; this is exceeding gladness.
[Frederic and Mabel turn and see that the Girls are listening; detected, they continue their chatter forte.
Girls. How beautifully blue the sky, etc.
Solo—Frederic.
[During this, Girls continue their chatter pianissimo as before, but listening intently all the time.
Did ever pirate roll
His soul in guilty dreaming,
And wake to find that soul
With peace and virtue beaming?
Did ever pirate loathed
Forsake his hideous mission,
To find himself betrothed
To lady of position?
Mab. Ah, yes—ah, yes; I am a lady of position.
[Mabel and Frederic turn as before; Girls resume their chatter forte.
Ensemble.
| Mabel. | Fred. | Girls. |
| Did ever maiden wake, etc. | Did ever pirate loathed, etc. | How beautifully blue the sky, etc. |
Recitative.—Fred.
Stay, we must not lose our senses;
Men who stick at no offences
Will anon be here.
Piracy their dreadful trade is;
Pray you, get you hence, young ladies,
While the coast is clear.
Girls.
No, we must not lose our senses
If they stick at no offences.
Piracy their dreadful trade is—
Nice associates for young ladies!
Let us disappear.
[During this chorus the Pirates have entered stealthily, and formed in a semicircle behind the Girls. As the Girls move to go off, each Pirate seizes a girl. King seizes Edith, Samuel seizes Kate.
All. Too late!
Pirates.Ha! Ha!
All.Too late!
Pir.Ha! Ha!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! ha!
Ensemble.
| (Pirates pass in front of Ladies.) | (Ladies pass in front of Pirates.) |
| Pirates. | Ladies. |
| Here’s a first-rate opportunity | We have missed our opportunity |
| To get married with impunity, | Of escaping with impunity; |
| And indulge in the felicity | So farewell to the felicity |
| Of unbounded domesticity. | Of our maiden domesticity. |
| You shall quickly be parsonified, | We shall quickly be parsonified, |
| Conjugally matrimonified | Conjugally matrimonified |
| By a doctor of divinity, | By a doctor of divinity, |
| Who is located in this vicinity. | Who is located in this vicinity. |
Recitative.—Mabel (coming forward).
How, monsters! Ere your pirate caravanserai
Proceed, against our will, to wed us all,
Just bear in mind that we are wards in Chancery,
And father is a major-general!
Sam. (cowed). We’d better pause, or danger may befall;
Their father is a major-general.
Ladies. Yes, yes; he is a major-general.
The Major-General has entered unnoticed on rock.
Gen.Yes, I am a major-general.
All. You are!
Hurrah for the Major-General!
Gen.And it is a glorious thing
To be a major-general.
All. It is!
Hurrah for the Major-General!
Song.—Major-General.
I am the very pattern of a modern major-gineral,
I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral;
I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;
I’m very well acquainted too with matters mathematical;
I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical;
About binomial theorem I’m teeming with a lot o’ news—
(Bothered for next rhyme.)—Lot o’ news—lot o’ news—
(struck with an idea)
With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.
(Joyously.) With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.
All. With many cheerful facts, etc.
Gen. I’m very good at integral and differential calculus;
I know the scientific names of beings animalculous.
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern major-gineral.
All. In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
He is the very model of a modern major-gineral.
Gen. I know our mythic history, King Arthur’s and Sir Caradoc’s,
I answer hard acrostics, I’ve a pretty taste for paradox,
I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of Heliogabalus,
In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous.
I can tell undoubted Raphaels from Gerard Dows and Zoffanies;
I know the croaking chorus from the “Frogs” of Aristophanes.
Then I can hum a fugue, of which I’ve heard the music’s din afore,
(Bothered for next rhyme.)—Din afore, din afore, din afore—
(struck with an idea)
And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense “Pinafore.”
(Joyously.) And whistle all the airs, etc.
All. And whistle all the airs, etc.
Gen. Then I can write a washing bill in Babylonic cuneiform,
And tell you every detail of Caractacus’s uniform.
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very pattern of a modern major-gineral.
All. In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
He is the very pattern of a modern major-gineral.
Gen. In fact, when I know what is meant by mamelon and ravelin,
When I can tell at sight a chassepôt ride from a javelin,
When such affairs as sorties and surprises I’m more wary at,
And when I know precisely what is meant by commissariat,
When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern gunnery,
When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery;
In short, when I’ve a smattering of elemental strategy,
(Bothered for next rhyme.)—Strategy, strategy—
(struck with an idea)
You’ll say a better major-general has never sat a gee—
(Joyously.) You’ll say a better major-general has never sat a gee!
All. You’ll say a better, etc.
Gen. For my military knowledge, though I’m plucky and adventury,
Has only been brought down to the beginning of the century,
But still in learning vegetable, animal, and mineral, etc.
All. But still in learning vegetable, animal, and mineral,
He is the very model of a modern major-gineral.
Gen. And now that I’ve introduced myself I should like to have some idea of what’s going on.
Kate. Oh, papa—we——
Sam. Permit me, I’ll explain in two words: we propose to marry your daughters.
Gen. Dear me!
Girls. Against our wills, papa—against our wills!
Gen. Oh, but you mustn’t do that. May I ask—this is a picturesque costume, but I’m not familiar with it—what are you?
King. We are all single gentlemen.
Gen. Yes, I gathered that—anything else?
King. No, nothing else.
Edith. Papa, don’t believe them, they are pirates—the famous Pirates of Penzance!
Gen. The Pirates of Penzance? I have often heard of them.
Mab. All except this gentleman—(indicating Frederick)—who was a pirate once, but who is out of his indentures to-day, and who means to lead a blameless life evermore.
Gen. But wait a bit. I object to pirates as sons-in-law.
King. We object to major-generals as fathers-in-law. But we waive that point. We do not press it. We look over it.
Gen. (aside). Hah! an idea! (Aloud.) And do you mean to say that you would deliberately rob me of these the sole remaining props of my old age, and leave me to go through the remainder of life unfriended, unprotected, and alone?
King. Well, yes, that’s the idea.
Gen. Tell me, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan?
Pirates (disgusted). Oh, dash it all!
King. Here we are again!
Gen. I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan?
King. Often!
Gen. Yes, orphan. Have you ever known what it is to be one?
King. I say, often.
All (disgusted). Often, often, often. (Turning away.)
Gen. I don’t think we quite understand one another. I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan, and you say “orphan.” As I understand you, you are merely repeating the word “orphan” to show that you understand me.
King. I didn’t repeat the word often.
Gen. Pardon me, you did indeed.
King. I only repeated it once.
Gen. True, but you repeated it.
King. But not often.
Gen. Stop, I think I see where we are getting confused. When you said “orphan,” did you mean “orphan”—a person who has lost his parents; or often—frequently?
King. Ah, I beg pardon, I see what you mean—frequently.
Gen. Ah, you said often—frequently.
King. No, only once.
Gen. (irritated). Exactly, you said often, frequently, only once.
Finale.
Recitative.—General.
Oh, men of dark and dismal fate,
Forego your cruel employ;
Have pity on my lonely state,
I am an orphan boy.
King. An orphan boy?
Gen.An orphan boy!
Pirates.How sad—an orphan boy!
Solo.—General.
These children whom you see
Are all that I can call my own!
Pir.Poor fellow!
Gen.Take them away from me
And I shall be indeed alone.
Pir.Poor fellow!
Gen.If pity you can feel,
Leave me my sole remaining joy.
See, at your feet they kneel;
Your hearts you cannot steel
Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy!
Pir. (sobbing).Poor fellow!
See, at our feet they kneel;
Our hearts we cannot steel
Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy.
King. The orphan boy!
Sam.The orphan boy!
All. The lonely orphan boy! Poor fellow!
[General comes down. Principals come down. Ladies rise.
Ensemble.
| General. | Girls (aside). | Pirates (aside). |
| I’m telling a terrible story, | He’s telling a terrible story, | If he’s telling a terrible story |
| But it doesn’t diminish my glory; | Which will tend to diminish his glory. | He shall die by a death that is gory, |
| For they would have taken my daughters | Though they would have taken his daughters | One of the cruellest slaughters |
| Over the billowy waters, | Over the billowy waters, | That ever were known in these waters; |
| If I hadn’t, in elegant diction. | It’s easy, in elegant diction, | And we’ll finish his moral affliction |
| Indulged in an innocent fiction; | To call it an innocent fiction; | By a very complete malediction, |
| Which is not in the same category | But it comes in the same category | As a compliment valedictory, |
| As a regular terrible story. | As a regular terrible story. | If he’s telling a terrible story. |
King.
Although our dark career
Sometimes involves the crime of stealing,
We rather think that we’re
Not altogether void of feeling.
Although we live by strife,
We’re always sorry to begin it,
And what, we ask, is life
Without a touch of Poetry in it?
All (kneeling).
Hail, Poetry, thou heaven-born maid,
Thou gildest e’en the pirate’s trade!
Hail, flowing fount of sentiment!
All hail, Divine Emollient! (All rise.)
King.
You may go, for you’re at liberty, our pirate rules protect you,
And honorary members of our band we do elect you.
Sam.For he is an orphan boy.
Chorus.He is an orphan boy.
Gen.And it sometimes is a useful thing
To be an orphan boy.
Chorus.It is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!
Quartette.Oh, happy day, with joyous glee
We will away and merry be!
Should it befall auspiciouslee,
My sisters all will bridesmaids be.
Chorus.Oh, happy day, with joyous glee
They will away, and merry be;
Should it befall auspiciouslee,
Our sisters all will bridesmaids be!
Ruth enters, and comes down to Frederic, and kneels.
Ruth. Oh, master, hear one word, I do implore you!
Remember Ruth, your Ruth, who kneels before you!
[Pirates come in front of Ladies.
Chorus.Yes, yes, remember Ruth who kneels before you.
Fred. (Pirates threaten Ruth).
Away, you did deceive me!
Chorus. Away, you did deceive him!
Ruth. Oh, do not leave me!
Chorus. Oh, do not leave her!
Fred. Away, you grieve me!
Chorus. Away, you grieve her!
Fred. I wish you’d leave me.
[Frederic casts Ruth from him. Exit Ruth.
Ensemble.
Pray observe the magnanimity
We }
They} display to lace and dimity;
Never was such opportunity
To get married with impunity,
{ we }
But {they} give up the felicity
Of unbounded domesticity,
Though a doctor of divinity
Is located in this vicinity.
King.For we are all orphan boys!
All.We are,
Hurrah for the orphan boys!
Gen. And it sometimes is a useful thing
To be an orphan boy.
All.It is.
Hurrah for the orphan boy!
[Girls and General go up rocks, while Pirates indulge in a wild dance of delight. The General produces a British flag, and the Pirate King, on arched rock, produces a black flag with skull and cross-bones. Picture.
ACT II.
Scene.—A ruined chapel by moonlight. Aisles divided by pillars and arches; ruined Gothic windows at back. General Stanley discovered seated pensively, surrounded by his daughters.
Chorus.
Oh, dry the glistening tear
That dews that martial cheek;
Thy loving children hear,
In them thy comfort seek.
With sympathetic care
Their arms around thee creep,
For oh, they cannot bear
To see their father weep.
Enter Mabel.
Solo.—Mabel.
Dear father, why leave your bed
At this untimely hour,
When happy daylight is dead,
And darksome dangers lower?
See, heaven has lit her lamp,
The midnight hour is past,
The chilly night air is damp,
And the dews are falling fast!
Dear father, why leave your bed
When happy daylight is dead?
Frederic enters down aisle.
Mab. Oh, Frederic, cannot you reconcile it with your conscience to say something that will relieve my father’s sorrow?
Fred. I will try, dear Mabel. But why does he sit, night after night, in this draughty old ruin?
Gen. Why do I sit here? To escape from the pirates’ clutches, I described myself as an orphan, and I am no orphan! I come here to humble myself before the tombs of my ancestors, and to implore their pardon for having brought dishonour on the family escutcheon.
Fred. But you forget, sir, you only bought the property a year ago, and the stucco in your baronial hall is scarcely dry.
Gen. Frederic, in this chapel are ancestors; you cannot deny that. With the estate, I bought the chapel and its contents. I don’t know whose ancestors they were, but I know whose ancestors they are, and I shudder to think that their descendant by purchase (if I may so describe myself) should have brought disgrace upon what, I have no doubt, was an unstained escutcheon.
Fred. Be comforted. Had you not acted as you did, these reckless men would assuredly have called in the nearest clergyman, and have married your large family on the spot.
Gen. I thank you for your proffered solace, but it is unavailing. At what time does your expedition march against these scoundrels?
Fred. At eleven; and before midnight I hope to have atoned for my involuntary association with the pestilent scourges by sweeping them from the face of the earth. And then, my Mabel, you will be mine!
Gen. Are your devoted followers at hand?
Fred. They are; they only wait my orders.
Recitative.—General.
Then, Frederic, let your escort lion-hearted
Be summoned to receive a general’s blessing,
Ere they depart upon their dread adventure.
Fred. Dear sir, they come.
Enter Police, marching in double file. Form in line facing audience.
Song.—Sergeant.
When the foeman bares his steel,
Tarantara! tarantara!
We uncomfortable feel,
Tarantara!
And we find the wisest thing,
Tarantara! tarantara!
Is to slap our chests and sing.
Tarantara!
For when threatened with emeutes,
Tarantara! tarantara!
And your heart is in your boots,
Tarantara!
There is nothing brings it round,
Tarantara! tarantara!
Like the trumpet’s martial sound.
Tarantara!
Tarantara, ra-ra-ra-ra!
All. Tarantara, ra-ra-ra-ra!
Mab.Go, ye heroes, go to glory;
Though you die in combat gory
Ye shall live in song and story.
Go to immortality.
Go to death, and go to slaughter;
Die, and every Cornish daughter
With her tears your grave shall water.
Go, ye heroes; go and die.
All. Go, ye heroes; go and die.
Pol.Though to us it’s evident,
Tarantara! tarantara!
These attentions are well meant,
Tarantara!
Such expressions don’t appear,
Tarantara! tarantara!
Calculated men to cheer,
Tarantara!
Who are going to meet their fate
In a highly nervous state,
Tarantara!
Still to us it’s evident
These attentions are well meant.
Tarantara!
Edith. Go and do your best endeavour,
And before all links we sever
We will say farewell for ever;
Go to glory and the grave.
For your foes are fierce and ruthless,
False, unmerciful, and truthless.
Young and tender, old and toothless,
All in vain their mercy crave.
All. Yes, your foes are fierce and ruthless, etc.
Serg. We observe too great a stress
On the risks that on us press,
And of reference a lack
To our chance of coming back.
Still perhaps it would be wise
Not to carp or criticise,
For it’s very evident
These attentions are well meant.
All. Yes, to them it’s evident
Our attentions are well meant.
Tarantara, ra-ra-ra-ra!
Go, ye heroes, go to glory, etc.
Gen.Away, away.
Pol. (without moving).Yes, yes, we go.
Gen.These pirates slay.
Pol.Yes, yes, we go.
Gen.Then do not stay.
Pol.We go, we go.
Gen.Then why all this delay?
Pol.All right—we go, we go.
Yes, forward on the foe,
Ho, ho! Ho, ho!
We go, we go, we go!
Tarantara-ra-ra!
Then forward on the foe!
All. Yes, forward!
Pol.Yes, forward!
Gen.Yes, but you don’t go!
Pol.We go, we go, we go!
All.At last they really go—Tarantara-ra-ra!
Ensemble.
| Chorus of all but Police. | Chorus of Police. |
| Go and do your best endeavour, | Such expressions don’t appear, |
| And before all links we sever | Tarantara! tarantara! |
| We will say farewell for ever; | Calculated men to cheer, |
| Go to glory and the grave. | Tarantara! |
| For your foes are fierce and ruthless, | Who are going to their fate, |
| False, unmerciful and truthless. | Tarantara! tarantara! |
| Young and tender, old and toothless, | In a highly nervous state. |
| All in vain their mercy crave. | Tarantara! |
| We observe too great a stress, | |
| Tarantara! tarantara! | |
| On the risks that on us press, | |
| Tarantara! | |
| And of reference a lack, | |
| Tarantara! tarantara! | |
| To our chance of coming back. | |
| Tarantara! |
[Mabel tears herself from Frederic and exit, followed by her sisters, consoling her. The General and others follow the Police off. Frederic remains.
Recitative.—Frederic.
Now for the pirate’s lair! Oh, joy unbounded!
Oh, sweet relief! Oh, rapture unexampled!
At last I may atone, in some slight measure,
For the repeated acts of theft and pillage
Which, at a sense of duty’s stern dictation,
I, circumstance’s victim, have been guilty.
[The Pirate King and Ruth appear at the window armed.
King.Young Frederic! (Covering him with pistol.)
Fred.Who calls?
King.Your late commander! (Coming down.)
Ruth.And I, your little Ruth! (Covering him with pistol.)
Fred.Oh, mad intruders,
How dare ye face me? Know ye not, oh rash ones,
That I have doomed you to extermination?
[King and Ruth hold a pistol to each ear.
King.Have mercy on us, hear us, ere you slaughter.
Fred.I do not think I ought to listen to you.
Yet, mercy should alloy our stern resentment,
And so I will be merciful—say on.
Trio.—Ruth, King, and Fred.
When first you left our pirate fold
We tried to cheer our spirits faint,
According to our customs old,
With quips and quibbles quaint.
But all in vain the quips we heard,
We lay and sobbed upon the rocks,
Until to somebody occurred
A curious paradox.
Fred.A paradox!
King (laughing).A paradox.
Ruth.A most ingenious paradox.
We’ve quips and quibbles heard in flocks,
But none to beat this paradox!
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho! ho!
King.We knew your taste for curious quips,
For cranks and contradictions queer,
And with the laughter on our lips,
We wished you had been there to hear.
We said, “If we could tell it him,
How Frederic would the joke enjoy,”
And so we’ve risked both life and limb
To tell it to our boy.
Fred. (interested).
That paradox? That paradox!
King and Ruth (laughing).
That most ingenious paradox!
We’ve quips and quibbles heard in flocks,
But none to beat that paradox!
Ha, ha, ha, ha! ho, ho, ho, ho!
Chant.—King.
For some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I’ve no desire to be disloyal,
Some person in authority, I don’t know who—very likely the Astronomer Royal—
Has decided that, although for such a beastly month as February twenty-eight days as a general rule are plenty,
One year in every four his days shall be reckoned as nine and twenty.
Through some singular coincidence—I shouldn’t be surprised if it were owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy—
You are the victim of this clumsy arrangement, having been born in leap year, on the twenty-ninth of February,
And so, by a simple arithmetical process, you’ll easily discover,
That though you’ve lived twenty-one years, yet, if we go by birthdays, you’re only five and a little bit over!
Ruth.Ha! ha! ha! ha!
King.Ho! ho! ho! ho!
Fred.Dear me!
Let’s see! (Counting on fingers.)
Yes, yes; with yours my figures do agree!
All. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho, ho! (Frederic more amused than any.)
Fred.How quaint the ways of paradox!
At common sense she gaily mocks!
Though counting in the usual way,
Years twenty-one I’ve been alive,
Yet, reckoning by my natal day,
I am a little boy of five!
All. He is a little boy of five. Ha, ha!
At common sense she gaily mocks;
So quaint a way is paradox.
All. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
King.Ho, ho, ho, ho!
Ruth.Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Fred.Ha, ha, ha, ha!
All. Ho, ho, ho, ho!
[Ruth and King throw themselves back on seats, exhausted with laughter.]
Fred. Upon my word, this is most curious—most absurdly whimsical. Five and a quarter! No one would think it to look at me.
Ruth. You are glad now, I’ll be bound, that you spared us. You would never have forgiven yourself when you discovered that you had killed two of your comrades.
Fred. My comrades?
King. I’m afraid you don’t appreciate the delicacy of your position. You were apprenticed to us——
Fred. Until I reached my twenty-first year.
King. No, until you reached your twenty-first birthday (producing document), and, going by birthdays, you are as yet only five and a quarter.
Fred. You don’t mean to say you are going to hold me to that?
King. No, we merely remind you of the fact, and leave the rest to your sense of duty.
Fred. (wildly). Don’t put it on that footing! As I was merciful to you just now, be merciful to me! I implore you not to insist on the letter of your bond just as the cup of happiness is at my lips!
Ruth. We insist on nothing; we content ourselves with pointing out to you your duty.
Fred. (after a pause). Well, you have appealed to my sense of duty, and my duty is only too clear. I abhor your infamous calling; I shudder at the thought that I have ever been mixed up with it; but duty is before all—at any price I will do my duty!
King. Bravely spoken. Come, you are one of us once more.
Fred. Lead on; I follow. (Suddenly.) Oh, horror!
King and Ruth. What is the matter?
Fred. Ought I to tell you? No, no, I cannot do it; and yet, as one of your band——
King. Speak out, I charge you, by that sense of conscientiousness to which we have never yet appealed in vain.
Fred. General Stanley, the father of my Mabel——
King and Ruth. Yes, yes!
Fred. He escaped from you on the plea that he was an orphan?
King. He did.
Fred. It breaks my heart to betray the honoured father of the girl I adore, but, as your apprentice, I have no alternative. It is my duty to tell you that General Stanley is no orphan.
King and Ruth. What!
Fred. More than that, he never was one!
King. Am I to understand that, to save his contemptible life, he dared to practise on our credulous simplicity? (Frederic nods as he weeps.) Our revenge shall be swift and terrible. We will go and collect our band and attack Tremorden Castle this very night.
Fred. But——
King. Not a word. He is doomed. (Goes up and down stage.)
Trio.
| King and Ruth. | Frederic. |
| Away, away, my heart’s on fire, | Away, away, ere I expire— |
| I burn this base deception to repay, | I find my duty hard to do to-day! |
| This very day my vengeance dire | My heart is filled with anguish dire, |
| Shall glut itself in gore. Away, away! | It strikes me to the core. Away, away! |
King.With falsehood foul
He tricked us of our brides.
Let vengeance howl;
The pirate so decides.
Our nature stem
He softened with his lies,
And, in return,
To-night the traitor dies.
All. Yes, yes; to-night the traitor dies.
Ruth (crosses to Frederic).
To-night he dies.
King.Yes, or early to-morrow.
Fred.His girls likewise?
Ruth.They will welter in sorrow.
King.The one soft spot——
Fred.In their natures they cherish,
And all who plot——
Ruth.To abuse it shall perish!
All. Yes, all who plot
King.To abuse it shall perish!
Away, away, etc.
[Exeunt King and Ruth. Frederic throws himself on a stone in blank despair.
Enter Mabel.
Recitative.—Mabel.
All is prepared, your gallant crew await you.
My Frederick in tears? It cannot be
That lion-heart quails at the coming conflict?
Fred.No, Mabel, no. A terrible disclosure
Has just been made! Mabel, my dearly loved one,
I bound myself to serve the pirate captain
Until I reached my one and twentieth birthday——
Mab.But you are twenty-one?
Fred.I’ve just discovered
That I was born in leap year, and that birthday
Will not be reached by me till 1940.
Mab.Oh, horrible! catastrophe appalling!
Fred.And so, farewell!
Mab. No, no! Oh, Frederic, hear me.
Duet.—Mabel and Frederic.
Mab.Stay, Frederic, stay!
They have no legal claim;
No shadow of a shame
Will fall upon thy name.
Stay, Frederic, stay!
Fred.Nay, Mabel, nay,
To-night I quit these walls,
The thought my soul appals,
But when stem duty calls,
I must obey.
Mab.Stay, Frederic, stay——
Fred.Nay, Mabel, nay——
Mab.They have no claim——
Fred.But duty’s name!
The thought my soul appals,
But when stern duty calls,
I must obey.
Ballad.—Mabel (kneels).
Oh, leave me not to pine
Alone and desolate;
No fate seemed fair as mine,
No happiness so great.
And nature, day by day,
Has sung, in accents clear,
This joyous roundelay,
“He loves thee—he is here.
Fal-la, fa-la, fa-la.”
Fred.Ah, must I leave thee here
In endless night to dream,
Where joy is dark and drear,
And sorrow all supreme!
Where nature, day by day,
Will sing, in altered tone,
This weary roundelay,
“He loves thee—he is gone.
Fa-la, fa-la, fa-la.”
He loves thee, he is gone. (Rises.)
Fred.In 1940 I of age shall be.
I’ll then return, and claim you—I declare it.
Mab.It seems so long!
Fred.Swear that, till then, you will be true to me.
Mab.Yes, I’ll be strong!
By all the Stanleys dead and gone,
I swear it!
Ensemble.
Oh, here is love, and here is truth,
And here is food for joyous laughter.
He}{his}
She} will be faithful to {her} sooth
Till we are wed, and even after.
{he}
What joy to know that though; {I} must
Embrace piratical adventures,
He}{his}
She} will be faithful to {her} trust
{he is}{his}
Till {I am} out of {my} Ventures.
Fred. Farewell! Adieu!
Both. Farewell! Adieu!
[Frederic rushes to window and leaps out.
Mab. (feeling pulse).
Yes, I am brave! Oh, family descent,
How great thy charm, thy sway how excellent!
Come, one and all, undaunted men in blue;
A crisis, now, affairs are coming to.
Enter Police, marching in single file.
Serg.Though in body and in mind,
Tarantara! tarantara!
We are timidly inclined,
Tarantara!
And anything but blind,
Tarantara! tarantara!
To the danger that’s behind,
Tarantara!
Yet, when the danger’s near,
Tarantara! tarantara!
We manage to appear
Tarantara!
As insensible to fear
As anybody here.
Tarantara!
Tarantara! tarantara, ra-ra-ra-ra!
Mab. Sergeant, approach. Young Frederic was to have led you to death and glory.
All. That is not a pleasant way of putting it.
Mab. No matter; he will not so lead you, for he has allied himself once more with his old associates.
All. He has acted shamefully.
Mab. You speak falsely. You know nothing about it. He has acted nobly.
All. He has acted nobly.
Mab. Dearly as I loved him before, his heroic sacrifice to his sense of duty has endeared him to me tenfold. He has done his duty. I will do mine. Go ye, and do yours.
[Exit Mabel.
All. Very well.
Serg. This is perplexing.
All. We cannot understand it at all.
Serg. Still he is actuated by a sense of duty——
All. That makes a difference, of course. At the same time we repeat, we cannot understand it at all.
Serg. No matter; our course is clear. We must do our best to capture these pirates alone. It is most distressing to us to be the agents whereby our erring fellow-creatures are deprived of that liberty which is so dear to all—but we should have thought of that before we joined the force.
All. We should.
Serg. It is too late now!
All. It is.
Song.—Sergeant.
When a felon’s not engaged in his employment—
All. His employment,
Serg.Or maturing his felonious little plans—
All. Little plans,
Serg.His capacity for innocent enjoyment—
All. ’Cent enjoyment,
Serg.Is just as great as any honest man’s—
All. Honest man’s.
Serg.Our feelings we with difficulty smother—
All. ’Culty smother,
Serg.When constabulary duty’s to be done—
All. To be done,
Serg.Ah, take one consideration with another—
All. With another,
Serg.A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.
All. When constabulary duty’s to be done,
The policeman’s lot is not a happy one.
Serg.When the enterprising burglar’s not a-burgling—
All. Not a-burgling,
Serg.When the cut-throat isn’t occupied in crime—
All. ’Pied in crime,
Serg.He loves to hear the little brook a-gurgling—
All. Brook a-gurgling,
Serg.And listen to the merry village chime—
All. Village chime.
Serg.When the coster’s finished jumping on his mother—
All. On his mother,
Serg.He loves to lie a-basking in the sun—
All. In the sun.
Serg.Ah, take one consideration with another—
All. With another,
Serg.The policeman’s lot is not a happy one.
When constabulary duty’s to be done—
All. To be done,
Serg.The policeman’s lot is not a happy one—
All. Happy one.
Chorus of Pirates (without, in the distance).
A rollicking band of pirates we,
Who, tired of tossing on the sea,
Are trying their hands in a burglaree,
With weapons grim and gory.
Serg.Hush, hush! I hear them on the manor poaching;
With stealthy step the pirates are approaching.
Chorus of Pirates (resumed nearer).
We are not coming for plate of gold—
A story General Stanley’s told—
We seek a penalty fifty-fold
For General Stanley’s story.
Pol.They seek a penalty—
Pir. (without).Fifty-fold;
We seek a penalty—
Pol.Fifty-fold;
All. {We}
{They} seek a Penalty fifty-fold
For General Stanley’s story.
Pol.They come in force, with stealthy stride,
Our obvious course is now—to hide.
[Police conceal themselves in aisle. As they do so, the Pirates, with Ruth and Frederic, are seen appearing at ruined window. They enter cautiously. Samuel is laden with burglarious tools and pistols, etc.
Chorus.—Pirates (very loud).
With cat-like tread,
Upon our prey we steal;
In silence dread
Our cautious way we feel.
Pol. (pianissimo). Tarantara! tarantara!
Pir.No sound at all,
We never speak a word,
A fly’s foot-fall
Could be distinctly heard—
Pol.Tarantara! tarantara!
Pir. Ha! ha!
Ho! ho!
So stealthily the pirate creeps
While all the household soundly sleeps.
Ha! ha! ho! ho!
Pol. (pianissimo). Tarantara! tarantara!
(Forte.) Tarantara!
Sam. (distributing implements to various members of the gang).
Here’s your crowbar and your centrebit,
Your life preserver—you may want to hit;
Your silent matches, your dark lantern seize,
Take your file and your skeletonic keys.
All (fortissimo).With cat-like tread, etc.
Recitative.
Fred.Hush, not a word. I see a light inside.
The Major-General comes, so quickly hide.
Gen. (without).
Yes, yes, the Major-General comes.
Pir.He comes.
Gen. (entering in dressing-gown, carrying a light).
Yes, yes, I come.
Pol.He comes.
Gen.Yes, yes, I come.
All. The Major-General comes.
[Exit Frederic.
Solo.—General.
Tormented with the anguish dread
Of falsehood unatoned,
I lay upon my sleepless bed,
And tossed and turned and groaned.
The man who finds his conscience ache
No peace at all enjoys,
And as I lay in bed awake
I thought I heard a noise.
Pir.He thought he heard a noise—ha! ha!
Pol.He thought he heard a noise—ha! ha! (Very loud.)
Gen.No, all is still
In dale, on hill;
My mind is set at ease.
So still the scene—
It must have been
The sighing of the breeze.
Ballad.—General.
Sighing softly to the river
Comes the loving breeze,
Setting nature all a-quiver,
Rustling through the trees—
All. Through the trees.
Gen.And the brook in rippling measure
Laughs for very love,
While the poplars, in their pleasure,
Wave their arms above. (Goes up stage and returns.)
Pol. and Pir. Yes, the trees, for very love,
Wave their leafy arms above,
River, river, little river,
May thy loving prosper ever.
Heaven speed thee, poplar tree;
May thy wooing happy be.
Gen.Yet, the breeze is but a rover;
When he wings away,
Brook and poplar mourn a lover!
Sighing well-a-day!
All. Well-a-day!
Gen.Ah, the doing and undoing
That the rogue could tell!
When the breeze is out a-wooing,
Who can woo so well?
Pol. and Pir. Shocking tales the rogue could tell,
Nobody can woo so well.
Pretty brook, thy dream is over,
For thy love is but a rover
Sad the lot of poplar trees
Courted by the fickle breeze.
Enter the General’s daughters, all in white peignoirs and nightcaps, and carrying lighted candles.
Girls. Now, what is this, and what is that, and why does father leave his rest
At such a time as this, so very incompletely dressed?
Dear father is, and always was, the most methodical of men;
It’s his invariable rule to go to bed at half-past ten.
What strange occurrence can it be that calls dear father from his rest
At such a time of night as this, so very incompletely dressed?
King (springing up).
Forward, my men, and seize that General there!
[They seize the General.
Pir.Ha! ha! we are the pirates, so despair—
King. With base deceit
You worked upon our feelings
Revenge is sweet,
And flavours all our dealings.
With courage rare
And resolution manly,
For death prepare,
Unhappy General Stanley!
Fred. (coming forward).
Alas, alas, unhappy General Stanley!
Gen.Frederic here! Oh, joy! Oh, rapture!
Summon your men and effect their capture.
Mab.Frederic, save us!
Fred.Beautiful Mabel,
I would if I could, but I am not able.
Pir. He’s telling the truth, he is not able.
Pol. (pianissimo).Tarantara! tarantara.
Mab. (wildly). Is he to die, unshriven-unannealed?
Girls.Oh, spare him!
Mab.Will no one in his cause a weapon wield?
Girls.Oh, spare him!
Pol. (springing up).
Yes, we are here, though hitherto concealed!
Girls.Oh, rapture!
Pol.So to our prowess, pirates, quickly yield!
Girls.Oh, rapture!
[A struggle ensues between Pirates and Police. Eventually the Police are overcome, and fall prostrate, the Pirates standing over them with drawn swords. Ladies run down.
Chorus of Police and Pirates.
You}
We} triumph now, for well we trow
Our mortal career’s cut short,
No pirate band will take its stand
At the Central Criminal Court.
Serg.To gain a brief advantage you’ve contrived,
But your proud triumph will not be long-lived.
King.Don’t say you are orphans, for we know that game.
Serg.On your allegiance we’ve a nobler claim.
We charge you yield, in Queen Victoria’s name!
King (baffled).You do!
Pol. We do;
We charge you yield, in Queen Victoria’s name!
[Pirates kneel, Police stand over them triumphantly.
King.We yield at once, with humbled mien,
Because, with all our faults, we love our Queen,
Pol. Yes, yes; with all their faults, they love their Queen.
Ladies.Yes, yes; with all, etc.
[Police, holding Pirates by the collar, take out handkerchiefs and weep.
Ruth enters.
Gen.Away with them, and place them at the bar.
Ruth.One moment; let me tell you who they are.
They are no members of the common throng;
They are all noblemen, who have gone wrong!
Gen., Pol., and Girls. What, all noblemen?
King and Pir.Yes, all noblemen!
Gen., Pol., and Girls. What, all?
King. Well, nearly all!
Gen.No Englishmen unmoved that statement hears,
Because, with all our faults, we love our House of Peers.
[All kneel to Pirates.
Recitative.—General.
I pray you, pardon me, ex-Pirate King,
Peers will be peers, and youth will have its fling.
Resume your ranks and legislative duties,
And take my daughters, all of whom are beauties.
Finale.
Mab.Poor wandering ones,
Though ye have surely strayed,
Take heart of grace,
Your steps retrace,
Poor wandering ones!
Poor wandering ones,
If such poor love as ours
Can help you find
True peace of mind,
Why, take it, it is yours!
All. Poor wandering ones, etc.
THE END.
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- Our Lady of Tears.
- Circe’s Lovers.
- BY DICK DONOVAN.
- The Man-hunter.
- Caught at Last!
- Tracked and Taken.
- Who Poisoned Hetty Duncan?
- The Man from Manchester.
- A Detective’s Triumphs.
- In the Grip of the Law.
- Wanted!
- From Information Received.
- Tracked to Doom.
- Link by Link.
- Suspicion Aroused.
- Dark Deeds.
- Riddles Read.
- Mystery of Jamaica Terrace.
- The Chronicles of Michael Danevitch.
- BY MRS. ANNIE EDWARDES.
- A Point of Honour.
- Archie Lovell.
- BY M. BETHAM-EDWARDS.
- Felicia.
- Kitty.
- BY EDWARD EGGLESTON.
- Roxy.
- BY G. MANVILLE FENN.
- The New Mistress.
- Witness to the Deed.
- The Tiger Lily.
- The White Virgin.
- BY PERCY FITZGERALD.
- Bella Donna.
- Polly.
- The Second Mrs. Tillotson.
- Seventy-five Brooke Street.
- Never Forgotten.
- The Lady of Brantome.
- Fatal Zero.
- BY PERCY FITZGERALD, &c.
- Strange Secrets.
- BY ALBANY DE FONBLANQUE.
- Filthy Lucre.
- BY R. E. FRANCILLON.
- Olympia.
- One by One.
- Queen Cophetua.
- A Real Queen.
- King or Knave.
- Romances of the Law.
- Ropes of Sand.
- A Dog and his Shadow.
- BY HAROLD FREDERIC.
- Seth’s Brother’s Wife.
- The Lawton Girl.
- PREFACED BY BARTLE FRERE.
- Pandurang Hari.
- BY EDWARD GARRETT.
- The Capel Girls.
- BY GILBERT GAUL.
- A Strange Manuscript Found
- in a Copper Cylinder.
- BY CHARLES GIBBON.
- Robin Gray.
- For Lack of Gold.
- What will the World Say?
- In Honour Bound.
- In Love and War.
- For the King.
- Queen of the Meadow.
- In Pastures Green.
- The Flower of the Forest.
- A Heart’s Problem.
- The Braes of Yarrow.
- The Golden Shaft.
- Of High Degree.
- The Dead Heart.
- By Mead and Stream.
- Heart’s Delight.
- Fancy Free.
- Loving a Dream.
- A Hard Knot.
- Blood-Money.
- BY WILLIAM GILBERT.
- James Duke.
- Dr. Austin’s Guests.
- The Wizard of the Mountain.
- BY ERNEST GLANVILLE.
- The Lost Heiress.
- The Fossicker.
- A Fair Colonist.
- BY REV. S. BARING GOULD.
- Eve.
- Red Spider.
- BY HENRY GREVILLE.
- A Noble Woman.
- Nikanor.
- BY CECIL GRIFFITH.
- Corinthia Marazion.
- BY SYDNEY GRUNDY.
- The Days of his Vanity.
- BY JOHN HABBERTON.
- Brueton’s Bayou.
- Country Luck.
- BY ANDREW HALLIDAY.
- Every-Day Papers.
- BY THOMAS HARDY.
- Under the Greenwood Tree.
- BY BRET HARTE.
- An Heiress of Red Dog.
- The Luck of Roaring Camp.
- Californian Stories.
- Gabriel Conroy.
- Flip.
- Maruja.
- A Phyllis of the Sierras.
- A Waif of the Plains.
- A Ward of the Golden Gate.
- BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
- Garth.
- Ellice Quentin.
- Sebastian Strome.
- Dust.
- Fortune’s Fool.
- Beatrix Randolph.
- Miss Cadogna.
- Love—or a Name.
- David Poindexter’s Disappearance.
- The Spectre of the Camera.
- BY SIR ARTHUR HELPS.
- Ivan de Biron.
- BY G. A. HENTY.
- Rujub, the Juggler.
- BY HENRY HERMAN.
- A Leading Lady.
- BY HEADON HILL.
- Zambra, the Detective.
- BY JOHN HILL.
- Treason-Felony.
- BY MRS. CASHEL HOEY.
- The Lover’s Creed.
- BY MRS. GEORGE HOOPER.
- The House of Raby.
- BY MRS. HUNGERFORD.
- In Durance Vile.
- A Maiden all Forlorn.
- A Mental Struggle.
- Marvel.
- A Modern Circe.
- Lady Verner’s Flight.
- The Red-House Mystery.
- The Three Graces.
- An Unsatisfactory Lover.
- Lady Patty.
- Nora Creina.
- The Professor’s Experiment.
- April’s Lady.
- Peter’s Wife.
- BY MRS. ALFRED HUNT.
- Thornicroft’s Model.
- The Leaden Casket.
- Self-Condemned.
- That Other Person.
- BY WILLIAM JAMESON.
- My Dead Self.
- BY HARRIETT JAY.
- The Dark Colleen.
- The Queen of Connaught.
- BY MARK KERSHAW.
- Colonial Facts and Fictions.
- BY R. ASHE KING.
- A Drawn Game.
- ‘The Wearing of the Green.’
- Passion’s Slave.
- Bell Barry.
- BY EDMOND LEPELLETIER.
- Madame Sans-Gêne.
- BY JOHN LEYS.
- The Lindsays.
- BY E. LYNN LINTON.
- Patricia Kemball.
- Atonement of Leam Dundas.
- The World Well Lost.
- Under which Lord?
- With a Silken Thread.
- The Rebel of the Family.
- ‘My Love!’
- Ione.
- Paston Carew.
- Sowing the Wind.
- The One Too Many.
- Dulcie Everton.
- BY HENRY W. LUCY.
- Gideon Fleyce.
- BY JUSTIN McCARTHY.
- Dear Lady Disdain.
- The Waterdale Neighbours.
- My Enemy’s Daughter.
- A Fair Saxon.
- Linley Rochford.
- Miss Misanthrope.
- Donna Quixote.
- The Comet of a Season.
- Maid of Athens.
- Camiola: a Girl with Fortune.
- The Dictator.
- Red Diamonds.
- The Riddle Ring.
- BY HUGH MacCOLL.
- Mr. Stranger’s Sealed Packet.
- BY GEORGE MACDONALD.
- Heather and Snow.
- BY MRS. MACDONELL.
- Quaker Cousins.
- BY KATHARINE S. MACQUOID.
- The Evil Eye.
- Lost Rose.
- BY W. H. MALLOCK.
- The New Republic.
- Romance of the 19th Century.
- BY J. MASTERMAN.
- Half-a-dozen Daughters.
- BY BRANDER MATTHEWS.
- A Secret of the Sea.
- BY L. T. MEADE.
- A Soldier of Fortune.
- BY LEONARD MERRICK.
- The Man who was Good.
- BY JEAN MIDDLEMASS.
- Touch and Go.
- Mr. Dorillion.
- BY MRS. MOLESWORTH.
- Hathercourt Rectory.
- BY J. E. MUDDOCK.
- Stories Weird and Wonderful.
- The Dead Man’s Secret.
- From the Bosom of the Deep.
- BY D. CHRISTIE MURRAY.
- A Life’s Atonement.
- Joseph’s Coat.
- Val Strange.
- A Model Father.
- Coals of Fire.
- Hearts.
- By the Gate of the Sea.
- The Way of the World.
- A Bit of Human Nature.
- First Person Singular.
- Cynic Fortune.
- Old Blazer’s Hero.
- Bob Martin’s Little Girl.
- Time’s Revenges.
- A Wasted Crime.
- In Direst Peril.
- Mount Despair.
- A Capful o’ Nails.
- BY D. CHRISTIE MURRAY AND HENRY HERMAN.
- One Traveller Returns.
- Paul Jones’s Alias.
- The Bishops’ Bible.
- BY HENRY MURRAY.
- A Game of Bluff.
- A Song of Sixpence.
- BY HUME NISBET.
- ‘Bail Up!’
- Dr. Bernard St. Vincent.
- BY W. E. NORRIS.
- Saint Ann’s.
- Billy Bellew.
- BY ALICE O’HANLON.
- The Unforeseen.
- Chance? or Fate?
- BY GEORGES OHNET.
- Doctor Rameau.
- A Last Love.
- A Weird Gift.
- BY MRS. OLIPHANT.
- Whiteladies.
- The Primrose Path.
- Greatest Heiress in England.
- BY MRS. ROBERT O’REILLY.
- Phœbe’s Fortunes.
- BY OUIDA.
- Held in Bondage.
- Strathmore.
- Chandos.
- Under Two Flags.
- Idalia.
- Cecil Castlemaine’s Gage.
- Tricotrin.
- Puck.
- Folle-Farine.
- A Dog of Flanders.
- Pascarèl.
- Signa.
- In a Winter City.
- Ariadnê.
- Moths.
- Friendship.
- Pipistrello.
- Bimbi.
- In Maremma.
- Wanda.
- Frescoes.
- Princess Napraxine.
- Two Little Wooden Shoes.
- A Village Commune.
- Othmar.
- Guilderoy.
- Ruffino.
- Syrlin.
- Santa Barbara.
- Two Offenders.
- Wisdom, Wit, and Pathos.
- BY MARGARET AGNES PAUL.
- Gentle and Simple.
- BY JAMES PAYN.
- Lost Sir Massingberd.
- A Perfect Treasure.
- Bentinck’s Tutor.
- Murphy’s Master.
- A County Family.
- At Her Mercy.
- A Woman’s Vengeance.
- Cecil’s Tryst.
- The Clyffards of Clyffe.
- The Family Scapegrace.
- The Foster Brothers.
- The Best of Husbands.
- Found Dead.
- Walter’s Word.
- Halves.
- Fallen Fortunes.
- What He Cost Her.
- Humorous Stories.
- Gwendoline’s Harvest.
- Like Father, Like Son.
- A Marine Residence.
- Married Beneath Him.
- Mirk Abbey.
- Not Wooed, but Won.
- £200 Reward.
- Less Black than Painted.
- By Proxy.
- High Spirits.
- Under One Roof.
- Carlyon’s Year.
- A Confidential Agent.
- Some Private Views.
- A Grape from a Thorn.
- From Exile.
- Kit: a Memory.
- For Cash Only.
- The Canon’s Ward.
- The Talk of the Town.
- Holiday Tasks.
- Glow-worm Tales.
- The Mystery of Mirbridge.
- The Burnt Million.
- The Word and the Will.
- A Prince of the Blood.
- Sunny Stories.
- A Trying Patient.
- BY EDGAR A. POE.
- The Mystery of Marie Roget.
- BY MRS. CAMPBELL PRAED.
- The Romance of a Station.
- The Soul of Countess Adrian.
- Outlaw and Lawmaker.
- Christina Chard.
- Mrs. Tregaskiss.
- BY E. C. PRICE.
- Valentina.
- Gerald.
- Mrs. Lancaster’s Rival.
- The Foreigners.
- BY RICHARD PRYCE.
- Miss Maxwell’s Affections.
- BY CHARLES READE.
- It is Never Too Late to Mend.
- Hard Cash.
- Peg Woffington.
- Christie Johnstone.
- Griffith Gaunt.
- Put Yourself in His Place.
- The Double Marriage.
- Love Me Little, Love Me Long.
- Foul Play.
- The Cloister and the Hearth.
- The Course of True Love.
- The Autobiography of a Thief.
- A Terrible Temptation.
- The Wandering Heir.
- A Simpleton.
- A Woman-Hater.
- Singleheart and Doubleface.
- Good Stories of Man, &c.
- The Jilt.
- A Perilous Secret.
- Readiana.
- BY MRS. J. H. RIDDELL.
- Her Mother’s Darling.
- The Uninhabited House.
- Weird Stories.
- Fairy Water.
- Prince Wales’s Garden Party.
- Mystery in Palace Gardens.
- The Nun’s Curse.
- Idle Tales.
- BY AMÉLIE RIVES.
- Barbara Dering.
- BY F. W. ROBINSON.
- Women are Strange.
- The Hands of Justice.
- The Woman in the Dark.
- BY JAMES RUNCIMAN.
- Skippers and Shellbacks.
- Grace Balmaign’s Sweetheart.
- Schools and Scholars.
- BY DORA RUSSELL.
- A Country Sweetheart.
- BY W. CLARK RUSSELL.
- Round the Galley Fire.
- On the Fo’k’sle Head.
- In the Middle Watch.
- A Voyage to the Cape.
- A Book for the Hammock.
- Mystery of the ‘Ocean Star.’
- Romance of Jenny Harlowe.
- An Ocean Tragedy.
- My Shipmate Louise.
- Alone on a Wide Wide Sea.
- The Phantom Death.
- The Good Ship ‘Mohock.’
- Is he the Man?
- Heart of Oak.
- The Convict Ship.
- The Tale of the Ten.
- The Last Entry.
- BY ALAN ST. AUBYN.
- A Fellow of Trinity.
- The Junior Dean.
- The Master of St. Benedict’s.
- To his Own Master.
- Orchard Damerel.
- In the Face of the World.
- The Tremlett Diamonds.
- BY GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA.
- Gaslight and Daylight.
- BY GEORGE R. SIMS.
- The Ring o’ Bells.
- Mary Jane’s Memoirs.
- Mary Jane Married.
- Tales of To-day.
- Dramas of Life.
- Tinkletop’s Crime.
- Zeph: a Circus Story.
- My Two Wives.
- Memoirs of a Landlady.
- Scenes from the Show.
- The Ten Commandments.
- Dagonet Abroad.
- Rogues and Vagabonds.
- BY ARTHUR SKETCHLEY.
- A Match in the Dark.
- BY HAWLEY SMART.
- Without Love or Licence.
- The Plunger.
- Beatrice and Benedick.
- Long Odds.
- The Master of Rathkelly.
- BY T. W. SPEIGHT.
- The Mysteries of Heron Dyke.
- The Golden Hoop.
- By Devious Ways.
- Hoodwinked.
- Back to Life.
- The Loudwater Tragedy.
- Burgo’s Romance.
- Quittance in Full.
- A Husband from the Sea.
- BY R. A. STERNDALE.
- The Afghan Knife.
- BY R. LOUIS STEVENSON.
- New Arabian Nights.
- BY BERTHA THOMAS.
- Proud Maisie.
- The Violin-player.
- Cressida.
- BY WALTER THORNBURY.
- Tales for the Marines.
- Old Stories Re-told.
- BY ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
- The Way We Live Now.
- Mr. Scarborough’s Family.
- The Golden Lion of Granpere.
- The American Senator.
- Frau Frohmann.
- Marion Fay.
- Kept in the Dark.
- The Land-Leaguers.
- John Caldigate.
- BY FRANCES E. TROLLOPE.
- Anne Furness.
- Mabel’s Progress.
- Like Ships upon the Sea.
- BY T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE.
- Diamond Cut Diamond.
- BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
- Farnell’s Folly.
- BY IVAN TURGENIEFF, &c.
- Stories from Foreign Novels.
- BY MARK TWAIN.
- Tom Sawyer.
- A Tramp Abroad.
- The Stolen White Elephant.
- Pleasure Trip on Continent.
- The Gilded Age.
- Huckleberry Finn.
- Life on the Mississippi.
- The Prince and the Pauper.
- Mark Twain’s Sketches.
- A Yankee at the Court of King Arthur.
- The £1,000,000 Bank-note.
- BY SARAH TYTLER.
- Noblesse Oblige.
- Citoyenne Jacqueline.
- The Huguenot Family.
- What She Came Through.
- Beauty and the Beast.
- The Bride’s Pass.
- Saint Mungo’s City.
- Disappeared.
- Lady Bell.
- Buried Diamonds.
- The Blackball Ghosts.
- BY C. C. FRASER-TYTLER.
- Mistress Judith.
- BY ALLEN UPWARD.
- The Queen against Owen.
- The Prince of Balkistan.
- BY ARTEMUS WARD.
- Artemus Ward Complete.
- BY AARON WATSON AND LILLIAS WASSERMANN.
- The Marquis of Carabas.
- BY WILLIAM WESTALL.
- Trust-Money.
- BY MRS. F. H. WILLIAMSON.
- A Child Widow.
- BY J. S. WINTER.
- Cavalry Life.
- Regimental Legends.
- BY H. F. WOOD.
- Passenger from Scotland Yard.
- Englishman of the Rue Caïn.
- BY CELIA PARKER WOOLLEY.
- Rachel Armstrong.
- BY EDMUND YATES.
- Castaway.
- The Forlorn Hope.
- Land at Last.
AN ALPHABETICAL CATALOGUE
OF BOOKS IN FICTION AND GENERAL LITERATURE
PUBLISHED BY
CHATTO & WINDUS
111 ST. MARTIN’S LANE
CHARING CROSS
LONDON, W.C.
[MAR., 1902.]
- Adams (W. Davenport), Works by.
- A Dictionary of the Drama: being a comprehensive Guide to the Plays, Playwrights, Players, and Playhouses of the United Kingdom and America, from the Earliest Times to the Present Day. Crown 8vo, half-bound, 12s. 6d. [Preparing.
- Quips and Quiddities. Selected by W. Davenport Adams. Post 8vo, cloth limp, 2s. 6d.
- Agony Column (The) of ‘The Times,’ from 1800 to 1870. Edited with an Introduction, by Alice Clay. Post 8vo, cloth limp, 2s. 6d.
- Alexander (Mrs.), Novels by.
- Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each.
- Maid, Wife, or Widow?
- Blind Fate.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. each; post 8vo, picture boards, 2s. each.
- Valerie’s Fate.
- A Life Interest.
- Mona’s Choice.
- By Woman’s Wit.
- Crown 8vo, cloth 3s. 6d. each.
- The Cost of her Pride.
- Barbara, Lady’s Maid and Peeress.
- A Fight with Fate.
- A Golden Autumn.
- Mrs. Crichton’s Creditor.
- The Step-mother.
- A Missing Hero.
- Allen (F. M.).—Green as Grass. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- Allen (Grant), Works by.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s. each.
- The Evolutionist at Large.
- Moorland Idylls.
- Post-Prandial Philosophy. Crown 8vo, art linen, 3s. 6d.
- Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each, post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each.
- Babylon. 12 Illustrations.
- Strange Stories.
- The Beckoning Hand.
- For Maimie’s Sake.
- Philistia.
- In all Shades.
- The Devil’s Die.
- This Mortal Coil.
- The Tents of Shem.
- The Great Taboo.
- Dumaresq’s Daughter.
- Under Sealed Orders.
- The Duchess of Powysland.
- Blood Royal.
- Ivan Greet’s Masterpiece.
- The Scallywag. 24 Illusts.
- At Market Value.
- Dr. Palliser’s Patient. Fcap. 8vo, cloth boards, 1s. 6d.
- Anderson (Mary).—Othello’s Occupation. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- Antrobus (C. L.), Novels by. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 6s. each.
- Quality Corner: A Study of Remorse.
- Wildersmoor.
- Appleton (G. Webb).—Rash Conclusions. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- Arnold (Edwin Lester), Stories by.
- The Wonderful Adventures of Phra the Phœnician. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with 12 Illustrations by H. M. Paget, 3s. 6d.; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s.
- The Constable of St. Nicholas. With Frontispiece by S. L. Wood. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.; picture cloth, flat back, 2s.
- Artemus Ward’s Works. With Portrait and Facsimile. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d.—Also a Popular Edition post 8vo, picture boards, 2s.
- Ashton (John), Works by.
- Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7s. 6d. each.
- Humour, Wit, and Satire of the Seventeenth Century. With 82 Illustrations.
- English Caricature and Satire on Napoleon the First. With 115 Illustrations.
- Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne. With 85 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 6s. each.
- Social Life under the Regency. With 90 Illustrations.
- Florizel’s Folly: The Story of George IV. With Photogravure Frontispiece and 12 Illustrations.
- Bacteria, Yeast Fungi, and Allied Species, A Synopsis of. By W. B. Grove, B.A. With 87 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d.
- Baildon (H. B.).—Robert Louis Stevenson: A Life Study in Criticism. With 2 Portraits. Crown 8vo, buckram. 6s.
- Bardsley (Rev. C. Wareing, M.A.), Works by.
- English Surnames: Their Sources and Significations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.
- Curiosities of Puritan Nomenclature. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- Barr (Robert: Luke Sharp), Stories by.
- Cr. 8vo, cl., 3s. 6d. each.
- In a Steamer Chair. With Frontispiece and Vignette by Demain Hammond.
- From Whose Bourne, &c. With 47 Illustrations by Hal Hurst and others.
- Revenge! With 12 Illustrations by Lancelot Steed and others.
- A Woman Intervenes. With 8 Illustrations by Hal Hurst.
- The Unchanging East: Notes on a Visit to the Farther Edge of the Mediterranean. With a Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 6s.
- A Royal Tramp. With 12 Illustrations by E. J. Sullivan. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 6s.
- Barrett (Frank), Novels by.
- Post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each; cloth, 2s. 6d. each.
- The Sin of Olga Zassoulich.
- Between Life and Death.
- Folly Morrison.
- A Prodigal’s Progress.
- Little Lady Linton.
- Honest Davie.
- John Ford; and His Helpmate.
- A Recoiling Vengeance.
- Lieut. Barnabas.
- For Love and Honour.
- Found Guilty.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. each; post 8vo, picture boards, 2s. each; cloth limp, 2s. 6d. each.
- Fettered for Life.
- The Woman of the Iron Bracelets.
- The Harding Scandal.
- A Missing Witness. With 8 Illustrations by W. H. Margetson.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. each.
- Under a Strange Mask. With 19 Illusts. by E. F. Brewtnall.
- Was She Justified?
- Barrett (Joan).—Monte Carlo Stories. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 1s. 6d.
- Besant (Sir Walter) and James Rice, Novels by.
- Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each; cloth limp, 2s. 6d. each.
- Ready-Money Mortiboy.
- The Golden Butterfly.
- My Little Girl.
- With Harp and Crown.
- This Son of Vulcan.
- The Monks of Thelema.
- By Celia’s Arbour.
- The Chaplain of the Fleet.
- The Seamy Side.
- The Case of Mr. Lucraft.
- ’Twas in Trafalgar’s Bay.
- The Ten Years’ Tenant.
- ⁂ There are also Library Editions of all the above, excepting the first two. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. each.
- Besant (Sir Walter), Novels by.
- Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each; post 8vo, illustrated boards, 2s. each: cloth limp, 2s. 6d. each.
- All Sorts and Conditions of Men. With 12 Illustrations by Fred. Barnard.
- The Captains’ Room, &c. With Frontispiece by E. J. Wheeler.
- All in a Garden Fair. With 6 Illustrations by Harry Furniss.
- Dorothy Forster. With Frontispiece by Charles Green.
- Uncle Jack, and other Stories.
- Children of Gibeon.
- The World Went Very Well Then. With 12 Illustrations by A. Forestier.
- Herr Paulus: His Rise, his Greatness, and his Fall.
- The Bell of St. Paul’s.
- For Faith and Freedom. With Illustrations by A. Forestier and F. Waddy.
- To Call Her Mine, &c. With 9 Illustrations by A. Forestier.
- The Holy Rose, &c. With Frontispiece by F. Barnard.
- Armorel of Lyonesse: A Romance of To-day. With 12 Illustrations by F. Barnard.
- St. Katherine’s by the Tower. With 12 Illustrations by C. Green.—Also in picture cloth, flat back, 2s.
- Yerbena Camellia Stephanotis, &c. With a Frontispiece by Gordon Browne.
- The Ivory Gate.
- The Rebel Queen.
- Beyond the Dreams of Avarice. With 12 Illustrations by W. H. Hyde.
- In Deacon’s Orders, &c. With Frontispiece by A. Forestier.
- The Revolt of Man.
- The Master Craftsman.
- The City of Refuge.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. each.
- A Fountain Sealed.
- The Changeling.
- The Fourth Generation.
- Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 6s. each.
- The Orange Girl. With 8 Illustrations by F. Pegram.
- The Lady of Lynn. With 12 Illustrations by G. Demain-Hammond.
- No Other Way. With Illustrations. [Preparing.
- Popular Editions, Medium 8vo, 6d. each.
- The Golden Butterfly.
- Ready-Money Mortiboy.
- The Chaplain of the Fleet.
- The Orange Girl.
- The Charm, and other Drawing-room Plays. By Sir Walter Besant and Walter H. Pollock. With 50 Illustrations by Chris Hammond and Jule Goodman. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- Fifty Years Ago. With 144 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.
- The Eulogy of Richard Jefferies. With Portrait. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s.
- London. With 125 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.
- Westminster. With an Etched Frontispiece by F. S. Walker, R.E., and 130 Illustrations by William Patten and others. Library Edition, demy 8vo, cloth gilt and gilt top, 18s.; Popular Edition, demy 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.
- South London. With an Etched Frontispiece by F. S. Walker, R.E. and 118 Illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt and gilt top, 18s.; Popular Edition, demy 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d.
- East London. With an Etched Frontispiece by F. S. Walker, and 55 Illustrations by Phil May, L. Raven Hill, and Joseph Pennell. Demy 8vo, cloth, 18s.
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- Work. Translated by Ernest A. Vizetelly.
- His Masterpiece. Edited by Ernest A. Vizetelly.
- The Downfall. Translated by E. A. Vizetelly.—Also a Popular Edition, medium 8vo, 6d.
- The Dream. Translated by Eliza Chase. With Eight Illustrations by Jeanniot.
- Doctor Pascal. Translated by E. A. Vizetelly. With Portrait of the Author.
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- ‘ZZ’ (L. Zangwill).—A Nineteenth Century Miracle. Cr. 8vo, 3s. 6d.
SOME BOOKS CLASSIFIED IN SERIES.
- The St. Martin’s Library. Pott 8vo, cloth, 2s. net each; leather, 3s. net each.
- The Cloister and the Hearth. By Chas. Reade.
- ‘It is Never Too Late to Mend.’ By Ch. Reade.
- Familiar Studies of Men and Books. By Robert Louis Stevenson.
- New Arabian Nights. By Robert Louis Stevenson.
- The Deemster. By Hall Caine.
- Under the Greenwood Tree. By Thomas Hardy.
- The Life of the Fields. By Richard Jefferies.
- The Mayfair Library. Post 8vo, cloth limp, 2s. 6d. per Volume.
- Quips and Quiddities. By W. D. Adams.
- The Agony Column of ‘The Times.’
- A Journey Round My Room. By X. de Maistre.
- Poetical Ingenuities. By W. T. Dobson.
- The Cupboard Papers. By Fin-Bec.
- W. S. Gilbert’s Plays. Three Series.
- Songs of Irish Wit and Humour.
- Animals and their Masters. By Sir A Helps.
- Social Pressure. By Sir A. Helps.
- Autocrat of Breakfast Table. By O. W. Holmes.
- Curiosities of Criticism. By H. J. Jennings.
- Pencil and Palette. By R. Kempt.
- Little Essays: from Lamb’s Letters.
- Forensic Anecdotes. By Jacob Larwood.
- Theatrical Anecdotes. By Jacob Larwood.
- Ourselves. By E. Lynn Linton.
- Witch Stories. By E. Lynn Linton.
- Pastimes and Players. By R. Macgregor.
- New Paul and Virginia. By W. H. Mallock.
- Puck on Pegasus. By H. C. Pennell.
- Pegasus Re-saddled. By H. C. Pennell.
- Puniana (Two Series). By Hon. Hugh Rowley.
- By Stream and Sea. By William Senior.
- The Golden Library. Post 8vo, cloth limp, 2s. per Volume.
- Songs for Sailors. By W. C. Bennett.
- Lives of the Necromancers. By W. Godwin.
- The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. By Oliver Wendell Holmes.
- Scenes of Country Life. By Edward Jesse.
- La Mort d’Arthur: Selections from Mallory.
- The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope.
- Diversions of the Echo Club. Bayard Taylor.
- Handy Novels. Fcap. 8vo, cloth boards, 1s. 6d. each.
- Dr. Palliser’s Patient. By Grant Allen.
- Monte Carlo Stories. By Joan Barrett.
- Black Spirits and White. By R. A. Cram.
- Seven Sleepers of Ephesus. M. E. Coleridge.
- The Old Maid’s Sweetheart. By A. St. Aubyn.
- Modest Little Sara. By Alan St. Aubyn.
- My Library. Printed on laid paper, post 8vo, half-Roxburghe, 2s. 6d. each.
- The Journal of Maurice de Guerin.
- The Dramatic Essays of Charles Lamb.
- Citation of William Shakspeare. W. S. Landor.
- Christie Johnstone. By Charles Reade.
- Peg Woffington. By Charles Reade.
- The Pocket Library. Post 8vo, printed on laid paper and hf.-bd., 2s. each.
- Gastronomy. By Brillat-Savarin.
- Robinson Crusoe. Illustrated by G. Cruikshank.
- Autocrat and Professor. By O. W. Holmes.
- Provincial Letters of Blaise Pascal.
- Whims and Oddities. By Thomas Hood.
- Leigh Hunt’s Essays. Edited by E. Ollier.
- The Barber’s Chair. By Douglas Jerrold.
- The Essays of Elia. By Charles Lamb.
- Anecdotes of the Clergy. By Jacob Larwood.
- The Epicurean, &c. By Thomas Moore.
- Plays by Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
- Gulliver’s Travels, &c. By Dean Swift.
- Thomson’s Seasons. Illustrated.
- White’s Natural History of Selborne.
POPULAR SIXPENNY NOVELS.
- The Orange Girl. By Walter Besant.
- All Sorts and Conditions of Men. Walt. Besant.
- The Chaplain of the Fleet. Besant & Rice.
- Ready-Money Mortiboy. Besant & Rice.
- The Golden Butterfly. Besant and Rice.
- The Deemster. By Hall Caine.
- The Shadow of a Crime. By Hall Caine.
- A Son of Hagar. By Hall Caine.
- Antonina. By Wilkie Collins.
- The Moonstone. By Wilkie Collins.
- The Woman in White. By Wilkie Collins.
- The Dead Secret. By Wilkie Collins.
- Man and Wife. By Wilkie Collins.
- The New Magdalen. By Wilkie Collins.
- Held in Bondage. By Ouida.
- Moths. By Ouida.
- Puck. By Ouida.
- Under Two Flags. By Ouida.
- Peg Woffington; and Christie Johnstone. By Charles Reade.
- The Cloister and the Hearth. By Charles Reade.
- Never Too Late to Mend. By Charles Reade.
- Hard Cash. By Charles Reade.
- Foul Play. By Charles Reade.
- New Arabian Nights. By R. L. Stevenson.
- The Old Factory. By William Westall.
- The Downfall. By E. Zola.
THE PICCADILLY NOVELS.
Library Editions of Novels, many Illustrated, crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each.
- By Mrs. ALEXANDER.
- Valerie’s Fate.
- A Life Interest.
- Mona’s Choice.
- By Woman’s Wit.
- The Cost of Her Pride.
- Barbara.
- A Fight with Fate.
- A Golden Autumn.
- Mrs. Crichton’s Creditor.
- The Step-mother.
- A Missing Hero.
- By F. M. ALLEN.—Green as Grass.
- By GRANT ALLEN.
- Philistia.
- Babylon.
- Strange Stories.
- For Maimie’s Sake.
- In all Shades.
- The Beckoning Hand.
- The Devil’s Die.
- This Mortal Coil.
- The Tents of Shem.
- The Great Taboo.
- Dumaresq’s Daughter.
- Duchess of Powysland.
- Blood Royal.
- I. Greet’s Masterpiece.
- The Scallywag.
- At Market Value.
- Under Sealed Orders.
- By M. ANDERSON.—Othello’s Occupation.
- By G. WEBB APPLETON.
- Rash Conclusions.
- By EDWIN L. ARNOLD.
- Phra the Phœnician.
- Constable of St. Nicholas.
- By ARTEMUS WARD.
- Artemus Ward Complete.
- By ROBERT BARR.
- In a Steamer Chair.
- From Whose Bourne.
- A Woman Intervenes.
- Revenge!
- By FRANK BARRETT.
- Woman of Iron Bracelets.
- Fettered for Life.
- The Harding Scandal.
- Under a Strange Mask.
- A Missing Witness.
- Was She Justified?
- By ‘BELLE.’—Vashti and Esther.
- By Sir W. BESANT and J. RICE.
- Ready-Money Mortiboy.
- My Little Girl.
- With Harp and Crown.
- This Son of Vulcan.
- The Golden Butterfly.
- The Monks of Thelema.
- By Celia’s Arbour.
- Chaplain of the Fleet.
- The Seamy Side.
- The Case of Mr. Lucraft.
- In Trafalgar’s Bay.
- The Ten Years Tenant.
- By Sir WALTER BESANT.
- All Sorts & Conditions.
- The Captains’ Room.
- All in a Garden Fair.
- Dorothy Forster.
- Uncle Jack.
- Holy Rose.
- World Went Well Then.
- Children of Gibeon.
- Herr Paulus.
- For Faith and Freedom.
- To Call Her Mine.
- The Revolt of Man.
- The Bell of St. Paul’s.
- Armorel of Lyoness.
- S. Katherine’s by Tower.
- Verbena Camellia, &c.
- The Ivory Gate.
- The Rebel Queen.
- Dreams of Avarice.
- In Deacon’s Orders.
- The Master Craftsman.
- The City of Refuge.
- A Fountain Sealed.
- The Changeling.
- The Fourth Generation
- The Charm.
- By AMBROSE BIERCE.—In Midst of Life.
- By HAROLD BINDLOSS. Ainslie’s Ju-Ju.
- By M. McD. BODKIN.
- Dora Myrl.
- Shillelagh and Shamrock.
- By PAUL BOURGET.—A Living Lie.
- By J. D. BRAYSHAW.—Slum Silhouettes.
- By ROBERT BUCHANAN.
- Shadow of the Sword.
- A Child of Nature.
- God and the Man.
- Martyrdom of Madeline.
- Love Me for Ever.
- Annan Water.
- Foxglove Manor.
- The Charlatan.
- The New Abelard.
- Matt.
- Rachel Dene.
- Master of the Mine.
- The Heir of Linne.
- Woman and the Man.
- Red and White Heather.
- Lady Kilpatrick.
- Andromeda.
- By R. W. CHAMBERS.—The King in Yellow.
- By J. M. CHAPPLE.—The Minor Chord.
- By HALL CAINE.
- Shadow of a Crime.
- Deemster.
- Son of Hagar.
- By AUSTIN CLARE.—By Rise of River.
- By Mrs. ARCHER CLIVE.
- Paul Ferroll.
- Why Paul Ferroll Killed his Wife.
- By ANNE COATES.—Rie’s Diary.
- By MACLAREN COBBAN.
- The Red Sultan.
- The Burden of Isabel.
- By WILKIE COLLINS.
- Armadale.
- After Dark.
- No Name.
- Antonina.
- Basil.
- Hide and Seek.
- The Dead Secret.
- Queen of Hearts.
- My Miscellanies.
- The Woman in White.
- The Law and the Lady.
- The Haunted Hotel.
- The Moonstone.
- Man and Wife.
- Poor Miss Finch.
- Miss or Mrs.?
- The New Magdalen.
- The Frozen Deep.
- The Two Destinies.
- ‘I Say No.’
- Little Novels.
- The Fallen Leaves.
- Jezebel’s Daughter.
- The Black Robe.
- Heart and Science.
- The Evil Genius.
- The Legacy of Cain.
- A Rogue’s Life.
- Blind Love.
- By MORT. & FRANCES COLLINS.
- Blacksmith & Scholar.
- The Village Comedy.
- You Play me False.
- Midnight to Midnight.
- By M. J. COLQUHOUN.—Every Inch Soldier.
- By HERBERT COMPTON.
- The Inimitable Mrs. Massingham.
- By E. H. COOPER.—Geoffory Hamilton.
- By V. C. COTES.—Two Girls on a Barge.
- By C. E. CRADDOCK.
- The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains.
- His Vanished Star.
- By H. N. CRELLIN.
- Romances of the Old Seraglio.
- By MATT CRIM.
- The Adventures of a Fair Rebel.
- By S. R. CROCKETT and others.
- Tales of Our Coast.
- By B. M. CROKER.
- Diana Barrington.
- Proper Pride.
- A Family Likeness.
- Pretty Miss Neville.
- A Bird of Passage.
- Mr. Jervis.
- Village Tales.
- Some One Else.
- Jason.
- Infatuation.
- The Real Lady Hilda.
- Married or Single?
- Two Masters.
- In the Kingdom of Kerry.
- Interference.
- A Third Person.
- Beyond the Pale.
- Miss Balmaine’s Past.
- Terence.
- By ALPHONSE DAUDET.
- The Evangelist; or, Port Salvation.
- By H. C. DAVIDSON.—Mr. Sadler’s Daughters.
- By HARRY DE WINDT.
- True Tales of Travel and Adventure.
- By DICK DONOVAN.
- Man from Manchester.
- Records of Vincent Trill.
- The Mystery of Jamaica Terrace.
- Tales of Terror.
- Chronicles of Michael Danevitch.
- Tyler Tatlock, Private Detective.
- Deacon Brodie.
- By RICHARD DOWLING.
- Old Corcoran’s Money.
- By A. CONAN DOYLE.
- The Firm of Girdlestone.
- By S. JEANNETTE DUNCAN.
- A Daughter of To-day.
- Vernon’s Aunt.
- By ANNIE EDWARDES.
- Archie Lovell.
- A Plaster Saint.
- By G. S. EDWARDS.—Snazelleparilla.
- By G. MANVILLE FENN.
- Cursed by a Fortune.
- The Case of Ailsa Gray.
- Commodore Junk.
- The New Mistress.
- Witness to the Deed.
- The Tiger Lily.
- The White Virgin.
- Black Blood.
- Double Cunning.
- A Fluttered Dovecote.
- King of the Castle.
- Master of Ceremonies.
- The Man with a Shadow.
- One Maid’s Mischief.
- Story of Antony Grace.
- This Man’s Wife.
- In Jeopardy.
- A Woman Worth Winning.
- By PERCY FITZGERALD.—Fatal Zero.
- By R. E. FRANCILLON.
- One by One.
- A Dog and his Shadow.
- A Real Queen.
- Ropes of Sand.
- Jack Doyle’s Daughter.
- By HAROLD FREDERIC.
- Seth’s Brother’s Wife.
- The Lawton Girl.
- By GILBERT GAUL.
- A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder.
- By PAUL GAULOT.—The Red Shirts.
- By CHARLES GIBBON.
- Robin Gray.
- Loving a Dream.
- Of High Degree.
- The Golden Shaft.
- The Braes of Yarrow.
- By E. GLANVILLE.
- The Lost Heiress.
- Fair Colonist.
- Fossicker.
- The Golden Rock.
- Tales from the Veld.
- By E. J. GOODMAN.
- The Fate of Herbert Wayne.
- By Rev. S. BARING GOULD.
- Red Spider.
- Eve.
- By ALFRED A. GRACE.
- Tales of a Dying Race.
- By CECIL GRIFFITH.—Corinthia Marazion.
- By A. CLAVERING GUNTER.
- A Florida Enchantment.
- By OWEN HALL.
- The Track of a Storm.
- Jetsam.
- By COSMO HAMILTON.
- Glamour of Impossible.
- Through a Keyhole.
- By THOMAS HARDY.
- Under the Greenwood Tree.
- By BRET HARTE.
- A Waif of the Plains.
- A Ward of the Golden Gate.
- A Sappho of Green Springs.
- Col. Starbottle’s Client.
- Susy.
- Sally Dows.
- Bell-Ringer of Angel’s.
- Tales of Trail and Town.
- A Protégée of Jack Hamlin’s.
- Clarence.
- Barker’s Luck.
- Devil’s Ford.
- The Crusade of the ‘Excelsior.’
- Three Partners.
- Gabriel Conroy.
- By JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
- Garth.
- Dust.
- Ellice Quentin.
- Sebastian Strome.
- Fortune’s Fool.
- Beatrix Randolph.
- David Poindextor’s Disappearance.
- Spectre of Camera.
- By Sir A. HELPS.—Ivan de Biron.
- By I. HENDERSON.—Agatha Page.
- By G. A. HENTY.
- Dorothy’s Double.
- The Queen’s Cup.
- By HEADON HILL.—Zambra the Detective.
- By JOHN HILL.—The Common Ancestor.
- By TIGHE HOPKINS.
- ’Twixt Love and Duty.
- Nugents of Carriconna.
- The Incomplete Adventurer.
- Nell Haffenden.
- By VICTOR HUGO.—The Outlaw of Iceland.
- By FERGUS HUME.—Lady from Nowhere.
- By Mrs. HUNGERFORD.
- Marvel.
- A Modern Circe.
- Lady Patty.
- A Mental Struggle.
- Lady Verner’s Flight.
- The Red-House Mystery.
- The Three Graces.
- Professor’s Experiment.
- A Point of Conscience.
- A Maiden all Forlorn.
- The Coming of Chloe.
- Nora Creina.
- An Anxious Moment.
- April’s Lady.
- Peter’s Wife.
- Lovice.
- By Mrs. ALFRED HUNT.
- The Leaden Casket.
- That Other Person.
- Self-Condemned.
- Mrs. Juliet.
- By R. ASHE KING.—A Drawn Game.
- By GEORGE LAMBERT.
- The President of Boravia.
- By EDMOND LEPELLETIER.
- Madame Sans-Gêne.
- By ADAM LILBURN. A Tragedy in Marble.
- By HARRY LINDSAY.
- Rhoda Roberts.
- The Jacobite.
- By HENRY W. LUCY.—Gideon Fleyce.
- By E. LYNN LINTON.
- Patricia Kemball.
- Under which Lord?
- ‘My Love!’
- Ione.
- Paston Carew.
- Bowing the Wind.
- With a Silken Thread.
- The World Well Lost.
- The Atonement of Leam
- Dundas.
- The One Too Many.
- Dulcie Everton.
- Rebel of the Family.
- An Octave of Friends.
- By JUSTIN McCARTHY.
- A Fair Saxon.
- Linley Rochford.
- Dear Lady Disdain.
- Camiola.
- Waterdale Neighbours.
- My Enemy’s Daughter.
- Miss Misanthrope.
- Donna Quixote.
- Maid of Athens.
- The Comet of a Season.
- The Dictator.
- Red Diamonds.
- The Riddle Ring.
- The Three Disgraces.
- By JUSTIN H. McCARTHY.
- A London Legend.
- The Royal Christopher.
- By GEORGE MACDONALD.
- Heather and Snow.
- Phantastes.
- By W. H. MALLOCK.—The New Republic.
- By P. & V. MARGUERITTE.—The Disaster.
- By L. T. MEADE.
- A Soldier of Fortune.
- In an Iron Grip.
- Dr. Rumsey’s Patient.
- The Voice of the Charmer.
- An Adventuress.
- On Brink of a Chasm.
- The Siren.
- The Way of a Woman.
- A Son of Ishmael.
- The Blue Diamond.
- By LEONARD MERRICK.
- This Stage of Fools.
- Cynthia.
- By BERTRAM MITFORD.
- The Gun-Runner.
- Luck of Gerard Ridgeley.
- The King’s Assegai.
- Rensh. Fanning’s Quest.
- By Mrs. MOLESWORTH.
- Hathercourt Rectory.
- By J. E. MUDDOCK.
- Maid Marian and Robin Hood.
- Golden Idol.
- Basile the Jester.
- Young Lochinvar.
- By D. CHRISTIE MURRAY.
- A Life’s Atonement.
- Joseph’s Coat.
- Coals of Fire.
- Old Blazer’s Hero.
- Val Strange.
- Hearts.
- A Model Father.
- By the Gate of the Sea.
- A Bit of Human Nature.
- First Person Singular.
- Cynic Fortune.
- The Way of the World.
- Bob Martin’s Little Girl.
- Time’s Revenges.
- A Wasted Crime.
- In Direct Peril.
- Mount Despair.
- A Capful o’ Nails.
- Tales in Prose & Verse.
- A Race for Millions.
- This Little World.
- His Own Ghost.
- By MURRAY and HERMAN.
- The Bishops’ Bible.
- One Traveller Returns.
- Paul Jones’s Alias.
- By HUME NISBET.—‘Bail Up!’
- By W. E. NORRIS.
- Saint Ann’s.
- Billy Bellew.
- Miss Wentworth’s Idea.
- By G. OHNET.
- A Weird Gift.
- Love’s Depths.
- By Mrs. OLIPHANT.—The Sorceress.
- By OUIDA.
- Held in Bondage.
- Strathmore.
- Chandos.
- Under Two Flags.
- Idalia.
- Cecil Castlemaine’s Gage.
- Tricotrin.
- Puck.
- Folle-Farine.
- A Dog of Flanders.
- Pascarèl.
- Signa.
- Princess Napraxine.
- Two Wooden Shoes.
- In a Winter City.
- Friendship.
- Moths.
- Ruffino.
- Pipistrello.
- Ariadnê.
- A Village Commune.
- Bimbi.
- Wanda.
- Frescoes.
- Othmar.
- In Maremma.
- Syrlin.
- Guilderoy.
- Santa Barbara.
- Two Offenders.
- The Waters of Edera.
- By MARGARET A. PAUL.
- Gentle and Simple.
- By JAMES PAYN.
- Lost Sir Massingberd.
- The Family Scapegrace.
- A County Family.
- Less Black than We’re Painted.
- A Confidential Agent.
- A Grape from a Thorn.
- In Peril and Privation.
- Mystery of Mirbridge.
- High Spirits.
- By Proxy.
- The Talk of the Town.
- Holiday Tasks.
- For Cash Only.
- The Burnt Million.
- The Word and the Will.
- Sunny Stories.
- A Trying Patient.
- A Modern Dick Whittington.
- By WILL PAYNE.—Jerry the Dreamer.
- By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED.
- Outlaw and Lawmaker.
- Christina Chard.
- Mrs. Tregaskiss.
- Nulma.
- Madame Izan.
- ‘As a Watch in the Night.’
- By E. C. PRICE.—Valentina.
- By RICHARD PRYCE.
- Miss Maxwell’s Affections.
- By Mrs. J. H. RIDDELL.
- Weird Stories.
- A Rich Man’s Daughter.
- By AMÉLIE RIVES.
- Barbara Dering.
- Meriel.
- By F. W. ROBINSON.
- The Hands of Justice.
- Woman in the Dark.
- By ALBERT ROSS.—A Sugar Princess.
- By HERBERT RUSSELL.—True Blue.
- By CHARLES READE.
- Peg Woffington; and Christie Johnstone.
- Hard Cash.
- Cloister & the Hearth.
- Never Too Late to Mend.
- The Course of True Love; and Singleheart & Doubleface.
- Autobiography of a Thief; Jack of all Trades; A Hero and a Martyr; and The Wandering Heir.
- Griffith Gaunt.
- Love Little, Love Long.
- The Double Marriage.
- Foul Play.
- Put Y’rself in His Place.
- A Terrible Temptation.
- A Simpleton.
- A Woman-Hater.
- The Jilt, & other Stories; & Good Stories of Man.
- A Perilous Secret.
- Readiana; and Bible Characters.
- By J. RUNCIMAN.—Skippers and Shellbacks.
- By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
- Round the Galley-Fire.
- In the Middle Watch.
- On the Fo’k’sle Head.
- A Voyage to the Cape.
- Book for the Hammock.
- Mystery of ‘Ocean Star.’
- Jenny Harlowe.
- An Ocean Tragedy.
- A Tale of Two Tunnels.
- My Shipmate Louise.
- Alone on Wide Wide Sea.
- The Phantom Death.
- Is He the Man?
- Good Ship ‘Mohock.’
- The Convict Ship.
- Heart of Oak.
- The Tale of the Ten.
- The Last Entry.
- The Death Ship.
- By DORA RUSSELL.—Drift of Fate.
- By BAYLE ST. JOHN.—A Levantine Family.
- By ADELINE SERGEANT.
- Dr. Endicott’s Experiment.
- Under False Pretences.
- By GEORGE R. SIMS.
- Dagonet Abroad.
- Once Upon a Christmas Time.
- Without the Limelight.
- Rogues and Vagabonds.
- In London’s Heart.
- Mary Jane’s Memoirs.
- Mary Jane Married.
- The Small-part Lady.
- A Blind Marriage.
- By HAWLEY SMART.
- Without Love or Licence.
- The Master of Rathkelly.
- Long Odds.
- The Outsider.
- Beatrice & Benedick.
- A Racing Rubber.
- By J. MOYR SMITH.
- The Prince of Argolis.
- By T. W. SPEIGHT.
- A Secret of the Sea.
- The Grey Monk.
- The Master of Trenance.
- The Web of Fate.
- A Minion of the Moon.
- Secret Wyvern Towers.
- The Doom of Siva.
- As it was Written.
- The Strange Experiences of Mr. Verschoyle.
- By ALAN ST. AUBYN.
- A Fellow of Trinity.
- The Junior Dean.
- Master of St. Benedict’s.
- To his Own Master.
- Gallantry Bower.
- In Face of the World.
- Orchard Damerel.
- The Tromlett Diamonds.
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- A Tragic Honeymoon.
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- Fortune’s Gate.
- Bonnie Maggie Lauder.
- Mary Unwin.
- Mrs. Dunbar’s Secret.
- By JOHN STAFFORD.—Doris and I.
- By R. STEPHENS.—The Cruciform Mark.
- By R. NEILSON STEPHENS.
- Philip Winwood.
- By R. A. STERNDALE.—The Afghan Knife.
- By R. L. STEVENSON.—The Suicide Club.
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- The Young Master of Hyson Hall.
- By SUNDOWNER. Told by the Taffrail.
- By ANNIE THOMAS.—The Siren’s Web.
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- By FRANCES E. TROLLOPE.
- Like Ships upon Sea.
- Anne Furness.
- Mabel’s Progress.
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- The Way we Live Now.
- Frau Frohmann.
- Marion Fay.
- Scarborough’s Family.
- The Land-Leaguers.
- By IVAN TURGENIEFF, &c.
- Stories from Foreign Novelists.
- By MARK TWAIN.
- Choice Works.
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- A Tramp Abroad.
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- £1,000,000 Bank-note.
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- What She Came Through.
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- A Court Tragedy.
- By E. A. VIZETELLY.—The Scorpion.
- By F. WARDEN.—Joan, the Curate.
- By CY WARMAN.—Express Messenger.
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- Chapenga’s White Man.
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- For Honour and Life.
- A Woman Tempted Him.
- Her Two Millions.
- Two Pinches of Snuff.
- Nigel Fortescue.
- Birch Dene.
- The Phantom City.
- A Queer Race.
- Ben Clough.
- The Old Factory.
- Red Ryvington.
- Ralph Norbreck’s Trust.
- Trust-money.
- Sons of Belial.
- Roy of Roy’s Court.
- With the Red Eagle.
- Strange Crimes (True Stories).
- By ATHA WESTBURY.
- The Shadow of Hilton Fernbrook.
- By C. J. WILLS.—An Easy-going Fellow.
- By JOHN STRANGE WINTER.
- Cavalry Life: and Regimental Legends.
- A Soldier’s Children.
- By E. ZOLA.
- The Joy of Life.
- His Masterpiece.
- The Fortune of the Rougons.
- Abbe Mouret’s Transgression.
- The Conquest of Plassans.
- Germinal.
- The Honour of the Army.
- The Downfall.
- The Dream.
- Money.
- Dr. Pascal.
- Lourdes.
- The Fat and the Thin.
- His Excellency.
- The Dram-Shop.
- Rome.
- Paris.
- Fruitfulness.
- Work.
- By ‘ZZ.’—A Nineteenth Century Miracle.
CHEAP EDITIONS OF POPULAR NOVELS.
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- Blind Fate.
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- A Life Interest.
- Mona’s Choice.
- By Woman’s Wit.
- By GRANT ALLEN.
- Philistia.
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- Strange Stories.
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- This Mortal Coil.
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- In the Midst of Life.
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- Camp Notes.
- Savage Life.
- Chronicles of No-man’s Land.
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- Californian Stories.
- Gabriel Conroy.
- Luck of Roaring Camp.
- An Heiress of Red Dog.
- Flip.
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- Ward of Golden Gate.
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- Shadow of the Sword.
- A Child of Nature.
- God and the Man.
- Love Me for Ever.
- Foxglove Manor.
- The Master of the Mine.
- Annan Water.
- The Martyrdom of Madeline.
- The New Abelard.
- The Heir of Linne.
- Woman and the Man.
- Rachel Dene.
- Matt.
- Lady Kilpatrick.
- By BUCHANAN and MURRAY.
- The Charlatan.
- By HALL CAINE.
- The Shadow of a Crime.
- A Son of Hagar.
- The Deemster.
- By Commander CAMERON.
- The Cruise of the ‘Black Prince.’
- By HAYDEN CARRUTH.
- The Adventures of Jones.
- By AUSTIN CLARE.
- For the Love of a Lass.
- By Mrs. ARCHER CLIVE.
- Paul Ferroll.
- Why Paul Ferroll Killed his Wife.
- By MACLAREN COBBAN.
- The Cure of Souls.
- The Red Sultan.
- By C. ALLSTON COLLINS.
- The Bar Sinister.
- By MORT. & FRANCES COLLINS.
- Sweet Anne Page.
- Transmigration.
- From Midnight to Midnight.
- A Fight with Fortune.
- Sweet and Twenty.
- The Village Comedy.
- You Play me False.
- Blacksmith and Scholar.
- Frances.
- By WILKIE COLLINS.
- Armadale.
- After Dark.
- No Name.
- Antonina.
- Basil.
- Hide and Seek.
- The Dead Secret.
- Queen of Hearts.
- Miss or Mrs.?
- The New Magdalen.
- The Frozen Deep.
- The Law and the Lady.
- The Two Destinies.
- The Haunted Hotel.
- A Rogue’s Life.
- My Miscellanies.
- The Woman in White.
- The Moonstone.
- Man and Wife.
- Poor Miss Finch.
- The Fallen Leaves.
- Jezebel’s Daughter.
- The Black Robe.
- Heart and Science.
- ‘I Say No!’
- The Evil Genius.
- Little Novels.
- Legacy of Cain.
- Blind Love.
- By M. J. COLQUHOUN.
- Every Inch a Soldier.
- By C. EGBERT CRADDOCK.
- The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains.
- By MATT CRIM.
- The Adventures of a Fair Rebel.
- By H. N. CRELLIN.—Tales of the Caliph.
- By B. M. CROKER.
- Pretty Miss Neville.
- Diana Barrington.
- ‘To Let.’
- A Bird of Passage.
- Proper Pride.
- A Family Likeness.
- A Third Person.
- Village Tales and Jungle Tragedies.
- Two Masters.
- Mr. Jervis.
- The Real Lady Hilda.
- Married or Single?
- Interference.
- By ALPHONSE DAUDET.
- The Evangelist; or, Port Salvation.
- By DICK DONOVAN.
- The Man-Hunter.
- Tracked and Taken.
- Caught at Last!
- Wanted!
- Who Poisoned Hetty Duncan?
- Man from Manchester.
- A Detective’s Triumphs.
- In the Grip of the Law.
- From Information Received.
- Tracked to Doom.
- Link by Link.
- Suspicion Aroused.
- Riddles Read.
- The Mystery of Jamaica Terrace.
- The Chronicles of Michael Danevitch.
- By Mrs. ANNIE EDWARDES.
- A Point of Honour.
- Archie Lovell.
- By EDWARD EGGLESTON.
- Roxy.
- By G. MANVILLE FENN.
- The New Mistress.
- Witness to the Deed.
- The Tiger Lily.
- The White Virgin.
- By PERCY FITZGERALD.
- Bella Donna.
- Never Forgotten.
- Polly.
- Fatal Zero.
- Second Mrs. Tillotson.
- Seventy-five Brooke Street.
- The Lady of Brantome.
- By P. FITZGERALD and others.
- Strange Secrets.
- By R. E. FRANCILLON.
- Olympia.
- One by One.
- A Real Queen.
- Queen Cophetua.
- King or Knave?
- Romances of the Law.
- Ropes of Sand.
- A Dog and his Shadow.
- By HAROLD FREDERIC.
- Seth’s Brother’s Wife.
- The Lawton Girl.
- Prefaced by Sir BARTLE FRERE.
- Pandurang Hari.
- By GILBERT GAUL.
- A Strange Manuscript.
- By CHARLES GIBBON.
- Robin Gray.
- Fancy Free.
- For Lack of Gold.
- What will World Say?
- In Love and War.
- For the King.
- In Pastures Green.
- Queen of the Meadow.
- A Heart’s Problem.
- The Dead Heart.
- In Honour Bound.
- Flower of the Forest.
- The Braes of Yarrow.
- The Golden Shaft.
- Of High Degree.
- By Mead and Stream.
- Loving a Dream.
- A Hard Knot.
- Heart’s Delight.
- Blood-Money.
- By WILLIAM GILBERT.
- James Duke.
- By ERNEST GLANVILLE.
- The Lost Heiress.
- A Fair Colonist.
- The Fossicker.
- By Rev. S. BARING GOULD.
- Red Spider.
- Eve.
- By ANDREW HALLIDAY.
- Every-day Papers.
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- Under the Greenwood Tree.
- By JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
- Garth.
- Ellice Quentin.
- Fortune’s Fool.
- Miss Cadogna.
- Sebastian Strome.
- Dust.
- Beatrix Randolph.
- Love—or a Name.
- David Poindexter’s Disappearance.
- The Spectre of the Camera.
- By Sir ARTHUR HELPS.
- Ivan de Biron.
- By G. A. HENTY.
- Rujub the Juggler.
- By HEADON HILL.
- Zambra the Detective.
- By JOHN HILL.
- Treason Felony.
- By Mrs. CASHEL HOEY.
- The Lover’s Creed.
- By Mrs. GEORGE HOOPER.
- The House of Raby.
- By Mrs. HUNGERFORD.
- A Maiden all Forlorn.
- In Durance Vile.
- Marvel.
- A Mental Struggle.
- A Modern Circe.
- April’s Lady.
- Peter’s Wife.
- Lady Verner’s Flight.
- The Red-House Mystery.
- The Three Graces.
- Unsatisfactory Lover.
- Lady Patty.
- Nora Creina.
- Professor’s Experiment.
- By Mrs. ALFRED HUNT.
- That Other Person.
- Self-Condemned.
- The Leaden Casket.
- By MARK KERSHAW.
- Colonial Facts and Fictions.
- By R. ASHE KING.
- A Drawn Game.
- ‘The Wearing of the Green.’
- Passion’s Slave.
- Bell Barry.
- By EDMOND LEPELLETIER.
- Madame Sans-Gêne.
- By JOHN LEYS.
- The Lindsays.
- By E. LYNN LINTON.
- Patricia Kemball.
- The World Well Lost.
- Under which Lord?
- Paston Carew.
- ‘My Love!’
- Ione.
- With a Silken Thread.
- The Atonement of Leam Dundas.
- Rebel of the Family.
- Sowing the Wind.
- The One Too Many.
- Dulcie Everton.
- By HENRY W. LUCY.
- Gideon Fleyce.
- By JUSTIN McCARTHY.
- Dear Lady Disdain.
- Waterdale Neighbours.
- My Enemy’s Daughter.
- A Fair Saxon.
- Linley Rochford.
- Miss Misanthrope.
- Camiola.
- Donna Quixote.
- Maid of Athens.
- The Comet of a Season.
- The Dictator.
- Red Diamonds.
- The Riddle Ring.
- By HUGH MACCOLL.
- Mr. Stranger’s Sealed Packet.
- By GEORGE MACDONALD.
- Heather and Snow.
- By AGNES MACDONELL.
- Quaker Cousins.
- By W. H. MALLOCK.
- The New Republic.
- By BRANDER MATTHEWS.
- A Secret of the Sea.
- By L. T. MEADE.
- A Soldier of Fortune.
- By LEONARD MERRICK.
- The Man who was Good.
- By Mrs. MOLESWORTH.
- Hathercourt Rectory.
- By J. E. MUDDOCK.
- Stories Weird and Wonderful.
- The Dead Man’s Secret.
- From the Bosom of the Deep.
- By D. CHRISTIE MURRAY.
- A Model Father.
- Joseph’s Coat.
- Coals of Fire.
- Val Strange.
- Hearts.
- Old Blazer’s Hero.
- The Way of the World.
- Cynic Fortune.
- A Life’s Atonement.
- By the Gate of the Sea.
- A Bit of Human Nature.
- First Person Singular.
- Bob Martin’s Little Girl.
- Time’s Revenges.
- A Wasted Crime.
- In Direst Peril.
- Mount Despair.
- A Capful o’ Nails.
- By MURRAY and HERMAN.
- One Traveller Returns.
- Paul Jones’s Alias.
- The Bishops’ Bible.
- By HUME NISBET.
- ‘Bail Up!’
- Dr. Bernard St. Vincent.
- By W. E. NORRIS.
- Saint Ann’s.
- Billy Bellew.
- By GEORGES OHNET.
- Dr. Rameau.
- A Last Love.
- A Weird Gift.
- By Mrs. OLIPHANT.
- Whiteladies.
- The Primrose Path.
- The Greatest Heiress in England.
- By OUIDA.
- Held in Bondage.
- Strathmore.
- Chandos.
- Idalia.
- Under Two Flags.
- Cecil Castlemaine’s Gage.
- Tricotrin.
- Puck.
- Folle-Farine.
- A Dog of Flanders.
- Pascarèl.
- Signa.
- Princess Napraxine.
- In a Winter City.
- Ariadnê.
- Friendship.
- Two Lit. Wooden Shoes.
- Moths.
- Bimbi.
- Pipistrello.
- A Village Commune.
- Wanda.
- Othmar.
- Frescoes.
- In Maremma.
- Guilderoy.
- Ruffino.
- Syrlin.
- Santa Barbara.
- Two Offenders.
- Ouida’s Wisdom, Wit, and Pathos.
- By MARGARET AGNES PAUL.
- Gentle and Simple.
- By Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED.
- The Romance of a Station.
- The Soul of Countess Adrian.
- Outlaw and Lawmaker.
- Christina Chard.
- Mrs. Tregaskiss.
- By RICHARD PRYCE.
- Miss Maxwell’s Affections.
- By JAMES PAYN.
- Bentinck’s Tutor.
- Murphy’s Master.
- A County Family.
- At Her Mercy.
- Cecil’s Tryst.
- The Clyffards of Clyffe.
- The Foster Brothers.
- Found Dead.
- The Best of Husbands.
- Walter’s Word.
- Halves.
- Fallen Fortunes.
- Humorous Stories.
- £200 Reward.
- A Marine Residence.
- Mirk Abbey.
- By Proxy.
- Under One Roof.
- High Spirits.
- Carlyon’s Year.
- From Exile.
- For Cash Only.
- Kit.
- The Canon’s Ward.
- The Talk of the Town.
- Holiday Tasks.
- A Perfect Treasure.
- What He Cost Her.
- A Confidential Agent.
- Glow-worm Tales.
- The Burnt Million.
- Sunny Stories.
- Lost Sir Massingberd.
- A Woman’s Vengeance.
- The Family Scapegrace.
- Gwendoline’s Harvest.
- Like Father, Like Son.
- Married Beneath Him.
- Not Wooed, but Won.
- Less Black than We’re Painted.
- Some Private Views.
- A Grape from a Thorn.
- The Mystery of Mirbridge.
- The Word and the Will.
- A Prince of the Blood.
- A Trying Patient.
- By Mrs. J. H. RIDDELL.
- Weird Stories.
- Fairy Water.
- Her Mother’s Darling.
- The Prince of Wales’s Garden Party.
- The Uninhabited House.
- The Mystery in Palace Gardens.
- The Nun’s Curse.
- Idle Tales.
- By CHARLES READE.
- It Is Never Too Late to Mend.
- Christie Johnstone.
- The Double Marriage.
- Put Yourself in His Place.
- Love Me Little, Love Me Long.
- The Cloister and the Hearth.
- Course of True Love.
- The Jilt.
- The Autobiography of a Thief.
- A Terrible Temptation.
- Foul Play.
- The Wandering Heir.
- Hard Cash.
- Singleheart and Doubleface.
- Good Stories of Man and other Animals.
- Peg Woffington.
- Griffith Gaunt.
- A Perilous Secret.
- A Simpleton.
- Readiana.
- A Woman-Hater.
- By F. W. ROBINSON.
- Women are Strange.
- The Hands of Justice.
- The Woman in the Dark.
- By W. CLARK RUSSELL.
- Round the Galley Fire.
- On the Fo’k’sle Head.
- In the Middle Watch.
- A Voyage to the Cape.
- A Book for the Hammock.
- The Mystery of the ‘Ocean Star.’
- The Romance of Jenny Harlowe.
- An Ocean Tragedy.
- My Shipmate Louise.
- Alone on Wide Wide Sea.
- Good Ship ‘Mohock.’
- The Phantom Death.
- Is He the Man?
- Heart of Oak.
- The Convict Ship.
- The Tale of the Ten.
- The Last Entry.
- By DORA RUSSELL.
- A Country Sweetheart.
- By GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA.
- Gaslight and Daylight.
- By GEORGE R. SIMS.
- The Ring o’ Bells.
- Mary Jane’s Memoirs.
- Mary Jane Married.
- Tales of To-day.
- Dramas of Life.
- Tinkletop’s Crime.
- My Two Wives.
- Zeph.
- Memoirs of a Landlady.
- Scenes from the Show.
- The 10 Commandments.
- Dagonet Abroad.
- Rogues and Vagabonds.
- By ARTHUR SKETCHLEY.
- A Match in the Dark.
- By HAWLEY SMART.
- Without Love or Licence.
- Beatrice and Benedick.
- The Master of Rathkelly.
- The Plunger.
- Long Odds.
- By T. W. SPEIGHT.
- The Mysteries of Heron Dyke.
- The Golden Hoop.
- Hoodwinked.
- By Devious Ways.
- Back to Life.
- The Loudwater Tragedy.
- Burgo’s Romance.
- Quittance in Full.
- A Husband from the Sea.
- By R. A. STERNDALE.
- The Afghan Knife.
- By ALAN ST. AUBYN.
- A Fellow of Trinity.
- The Junior Dean.
- Master of St. Benedict’s.
- To His Own Master.
- Orchard Damerel.
- In the Face of the World.
- The Tremlett Diamonds.
- By R. LOUIS STEVENSON.
- New Arabian Nights.
- By ROBERT SURTEES.
- Handley Cross.
- By WALTER THORNBURY.
- Tales for the Marines.
- By T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE.
- Diamond Cut Diamond.
- By F. ELEANOR TROLLOPE.
- Like Ships upon the Sea.
- Anne Furness.
- Mabel’s Progress.
- By ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
- Frau Frohmann.
- Marion Fay.
- Kept in the Dark.
- The Way We Live Now.
- The Land-Leaguers.
- The American Senator.
- Mr. Scarborough’s Family.
- Golden Lion of Granpere.
- By MARK TWAIN.
- A Pleasure Trip on the Continent.
- The Gilded Age.
- Huckleberry Finn.
- Mark Twain’s Sketches.
- Tom Sawyer.
- A Tramp Abroad.
- Stolen White Elephant.
- Life on the Mississippi.
- The Prince and the Pauper.
- A Yankee at the Court of King Arthur.
- £1,000,000 Bank-Note.
- By C. C. FRASER-TYTLER.
- Mistress Judith.
- By SARAH TYTLER.
- Bride’s Pass.
- Lady Bell.
- Buried Diamonds.
- St. Mungo’s City.
- Noblesse Oblige.
- Disappeared.
- The Huguenot Family.
- The Blackhall Ghosts.
- What She Came Through.
- Beauty and the Beast.
- By ALLEN UPWARD.
- The Queen against Owen.
- Prince of Balkistan.
- By WILLIAM WESTALL.
- Trust-Money.
- By Mrs. F. H. WILLIAMSON.
- A Child Widow.
- By J. S. WINTER.
- Cavalry Life.
- Regimental Legends.
- By H. F. WOOD.
- The Passenger from Scotland Yard.
- The Englishman of the Rue Caïn.
- By MARGARET WYNMAN.
- My Flirtations.
NEW SERIES OF TWO-SHILLING NOVELS.
Picture cloth boards, flat backs.
- The Constable of St. Nicholas. By Edwin Lester Arnold.
- St. Katherine’s by the Tower. By Sir Walter Besant.
- Dora Myrl, the Lady Detective. By McD. Bodkin, K.C.
- Vincent Trill, Detective. By Dick Donovan.
- Dark Deeds. By Dick Donovan.
- A Crimson Crime. By George Manville Fenn.
- The Red Shirts. By Paul Gaulot.
- The Track of a Storm. By Owen Hall.
- In a Hollow of the Hills. By Bret Harte.
- A Sappho of Green Springs. By Bret Harte.
- The Lady from Nowhere. By Fergus Hume.
- Plotters of Paris. By Edmund Mitchell.
- The Temple of Death. By Edmund Mitchell.
- Towards the Eternal Snows. By Edmund Mitchell.
- The Luck of Gerard Ridgeley. By Bertram Mitford.
- His Own Ghost. By D. Christie Murray.
- The Waters of Edera. By Ouida.
- A Modern Dick Whittington. By James Payn.
- The Drift of Fate. By Dora Russell.
- In London’s Heart. By G. R. Sims.
- The Tale of the Serpent. By Sundowner.
- Citoyenne Jacqueline. By Sarah Tytler.
- Joan, the Curate. By Florence Warden.
- Sport and Spangles. By Byron Webber.
Unwin Brothers, Printers, 27, Pilgrim Street, London, E.C.
[TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE.]
Archaic and unusual spellings have been maintained. Various characters speak in dialect.
Some obvious misprints have been corrected as detailed below.
Errors in the alphabetization of the book catalog were not corrected. Some authors are alphabetized by first name rather than last. In some cases, the alphabetization on the second letter of the author’s name is incorrect.
| In ‘[Broken Hearts]’ | |
| On page [18]: | Whoever has the veil is using it. |
| Originally: | Whovever has the veil is using it. |
| On page [32]: | My brain is filled with foolish fantasies |
| Originally: | My brain is filled with foolish fantasties |
| In ‘[Engaged]’ | |
| On page [47]: | Sym. Well, here we are at last—— |
| Originally: | Symp. Well, here we are at last—— |
| On page [47]: | Sym. My dear nephew, you would travel third |
| Originally: | Symp. My dear nephew, you would travel third |
| On page [67]: | Bel. Never more serious in my life. |
| Originally: | Bel. Never more serious in my live. |
| In ‘[Sweethearts]’ | |
| On page [108]: | Spread. No, no, Jane, the play is not over— |
| Originally: | Spread. No, no, Janet, the play is not over— |
| In ‘[Gretchen]’ | |
| On page [194]: | SCENE.—Room in MARTHA’S cottage; a couch |
| Originally: | Room in MARTHA’S cottage; a couch |
| In ‘[Tom Cobb; or, Fortune's Toy]’ | |
| On page [226]: | Answer me that. Come, Gineral, no evasion, |
| Originally: | Answer me that. Gome, Gineral, no evasion, |
| In ‘[The Sorcerer]’ | |
| On page [264]: | then exit with a sigh. Mr. Wells, who |
| Originally: | then exit with a sigh. Mr. Wells, wh |
| In ‘[H.M.S. Pinafore; or, The Lass that loved a Sailor]’ | |
| On page [281]: | Stick close to your desks and never go to sea, |
| Originally: | Stick close to your deck and never go to sea, |
| On page [284]: | Jos. Perfectly. (Aside.) His simple eloquence |
| Originally: | Joss. Perfectly. (Aside.) His simple eloquence |
| On page [285]: | (Aside.) I'd laugh my rank to scorn |
| Originally: | Aside.) I'd laugh my rank to scorn |
| On page [290]: | But.Frequentlee, |
| Originally: | Put.Frequentlee, |
| On page [291]: | [At the end exit Little Buttercup, melodramatically. |
| Originally: | [At the end exit Little Buttercup, melo-dramatically. |
| On page [295]: | All. Pull ashore, in fashion steady, |
| Originally: | Pull ashore, in fashion steady, |
| On page [298]: | fo’c’sle as it does on the quarter-deck, |
| Originally: | foksle as it does on the quarter-deck, |
| In ‘[The Pirates of Penzance; or, The Slave of Duty]’ | |
| On page [304]: | KATE MISS JULIA GWYNNE. |
| Originally: | KATE MISS JULIA GWNNNE. |
| On page [305]: | All. Pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry; |
| Originally: | Sam. Pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry; |
| On page [313]: | All. No, no! |
| Originally: | No, no! |
| On page [327]: | King and Ruth (laughing). That most ingenious paradox! |
| Originally: | King and Ruth (laughing). That most ingenious parodox! |
| On page [333]: | Serg. Or maturing his felonious little plans— |
| Originally: | Or maturing his felonious little plans— |
| On page [333]: | All. To be done, |
| Originally: | To be done, |
| On page [333]: | Serg. The policeman's lot is not a happy one— |
| Originally: | The policeman's lot is not a happy one— |
| On page [333]: | All. Happy one. |
| Originally: | Happy one. |