Joe (tonelessly, as before). Lady, I know you not (touches lower part of waistcoat); but, prithee, undo this button. I think I have jam in all my veins, and I would fain sleep. When I am gone, lay me in a plain white jelly-pot, with a parchment cover, and on the label write——but come nearer, I have a secret for your ear alone ... there are strange things in some cupboards! Demons should keep in the dust-bin. (With a ghastly smile.) I know not what ails me, but I am not feeling at all well.
[Joe's Mother stands a few steps from him, with her hands twisted in her hair, and stares at him in speechless terror.
Joe (to the Chorus). I would shake hands with you all, were not my fingers so sticky. We eat marmalade, but we know not what it is made of. Hush! if Jim-Jam comes again, tell him that I am not at home. Loo-loo-loo!
All (with conviction). Some shock has turned his brine!
Joe (sitting down on floor, and weaving straws in his hair). My curse upon him that invented jam. Let us all play Tibbits.
[Laughs vacantly: all gather round him, shaking their heads, his Mother falls fainting at his feet, as Curtain falls upon a strong and moral, though undeniably gloomy dénoûment.
THE SAVOYARDS.
Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan's Gondoliers deserves to rank immediately after The Mikado and Pinafore bracketed. The mise-en-scène is in every way about as perfect as it is possible to be. Every writer of libretti, every dramatist and every composer, must envy the Two Savoyards, their rare opportunities of putting their own work on their own stage, and being like the two Kings in this piece, jointly and equally monarchs of all they survey, though, unlike these two potentates, they are not their subjects' servants, and have only to consider what is best for the success of their piece, and to have it carried out, whatever it is, literally regardless of expense. And what does their work amount to? Simply a Two-Act Opera, to play two-hours-and-a-half, for the production of which they have practically a whole year at their disposal. They can go as near commanding success as is given to mortal dramatist and composer, and for any comparative failure they can have no one to blame but themselves, the pair of them.
