Martha Part 9

(_They tiptoe about and sing._)

NO. 12.

LADY H. _and_ NAN. Hasten then, to fortune trust our lot, Fare thee well, thou humble cot.

'Tis our only chance to fly, We'll not stop to say good bye.

TRIS. Let's be off now in a hurry, For their anger we'll not worry, 'Tis your only chance to fly, We'll not stop to say good bye.

(_As the curtain falls they have all three climbed out of window._)

_Curtain._

ACT FOUR.

(_A forest. A small inn at left._ PLUNKET _and several of his farm hands discovered sitting at table_. PLUNKET _rises and sings his song, the men joining in chorus_.)

NO. 13.

PLUN. Come, can you tell me, read me the riddle, What to our lordly British name Gives power and fame--Come, say?

Ha, 'tis old porter, brown and stout, None that is like it round about, The Briton's pride, he'll aye confide, In porter's power, whatever betide.

Yes, hurrah, hurrah for old English ale, The friend in need who can never fail, Hurrah,--tra, la, la, la, la, la!

Listen my lads and tell me truly What in our land you most do prize?

What's worth your eyes? Come, say?

Ho! 'tis your nut-brown foaming beer, See how it heaps the beaker here-- The Briton's pride, he'll aye confide, in porter's power, whatever betide.

CHO. Yes, hurrah! hurrah for the old English ale, etc.

(_At close of chorus after_ PLUNKET'S _song, horns are heard outside,--the opening strains of the next number. When it stops, at end of second brace, he speaks._)

PLUN. Aha! the hunt is up. They told me the Queen would hunt today.

ONE OF MEN. Yes, with all her ladies. No doubt the men-folk will follow, too!

PLUN. Start along, you, then. I'll go in and pay the score.

(_Men leave stage_, PLUNKET _enters the inn_.)

(_As music begins again the court ladies run on in hunting costume.

They wear short walking skirts, caps and high boots, perhaps, and all carry long spears._ NANCY _is with them_. _She carries a whip instead of a spear, and wears a long riding habit draped up over high boots._)

NO. 14.

CHORUS. All we ladies of the court Are lovers of sport of every sort; Every hunting cry we know, As hark tally ho, view tally ho!

We can handle dart and bow, O yes, we can dart after a beau; We can shoot and ride and row, Can play at ball, dance at them all; With rings and things we prancing go, Ho ho! and tally ho! we know, And how to catch a beau!

(_Girls stroll about stage and sit at table._ NANCY _comes forward alone_.)

NO. 15.

NAN. (_sings_). Gay of heart, I have not known how to weep, How to be sorry and wan; Vigil to keep.

Yet alas, sighs are my portion and pain, Tears that flow ever in vain, Hindering sleep.

There's a voice speaks in my heart night and day, What is the word soft it would say?

Ah, voice of love so true and deep, Ah, soul of faith my answer keep.

Memory still calls one face to my heart, O light of my life forever thou art; O voice of love so true and deep, Face so dear, light of my heart Forever thou art.

(_She turns to the others who gather round her._)

NAN. Hunters fair, now beware, Lest you fall into a snare.

Haste away, don't delay, Lest you lose your pretty prey.

Love's a sprite soon takes flight, Chance and change are his delight; Use your eyes, win the prize, Ere too soon he flies.

Love's a hunter, too, they say, Draws his bow, alackaday!

Hit, we're fain to bear the pain, Flight is vain.

CHORUS. Yes, Cupid blind, Thy darts are swifter far than wind.

(_At end of chorus_ PLUNKET _re-enters from the inn_.)

PLUNKET. Halloo! There seems to be good game afoot here. I'll see if I have any luck at the chase myself! (_Walks towards the ladies._)

NAN. (_looking around_). Where can Lady Harriet be? She seems to avoid society more than ever. She is very unhappy, and has been so ever since--(_addresses_ PLUNKET) My good man, can you tell me--(_stops in agitation_)

PLUN. What, Betsy Ann! You? In these togs!

NAN. (_distantly_). Well, my good man, what is it?

PLUN. I am not your good man! But you are my bad maid! Just you wait! I'll make you pay for all the trouble you've given me.

What are you doing here in this masquerade?

NAN. Are you crazy?

PLUN. No use to pretend! I know you. Come along home with me!

NAN. (_shrieks as he seizes her wrist_). Help! Help!

PLUN. What a wicked little hussy you are!

NAN. What an impudent big clodhopper you are!