The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Part 124

King: (gratified) Not bad, I think. Biting, trenchant sarcasm--the rapier, not the bludgeon--that's my line.

But then it's so easy--I'm such a good subject--a bad King but a good Subject--ha! ha!--a capital heading for next week's leading article! (makes a note) And then the stinging little paragraphs about our Royal goings-on with our Royal Second Housemaid--delicately sub-acid, are they not?

Scaphio: My dear King, in that kind of thing no one can hold a candle to you.

Phantis: But the crowning joke is the Comic Opera you've written for us--"King Tuppence, or A Good Deal Less than Half a Sover- eign"--in which the celebrated English tenor, Mr.

Wilkinson, burlesques your personal appearance and gives grotesque imitations of your Royal peculiarities. It's immense!

King: Ye--es--That's what I wanted to speak to you about. Now I've not the least doubt but that even that has its humorous side too--if one could only see it. As a rule I'm pretty quick at detecting latent humor--but I confess I do not quite see where it comes in, in this particular instance.

It's so horribly personal!

Scaphio: Personal? Yes, of course it's personal--but consider the ant.i.thetical humor of the situation.

King: Yes. I--I don't think I've quite grasped that.

Scaphio: No? You surprise me. Why, consider. During the day thou- sands tremble at your frown, during the night (from 8 to 11) thousands roar at it. During the day your most arbitrary p.r.o.nouncements are received by your subjects with abject submission--during the night, they shout with joy at your most terrible decrees. It's not every monarch who enjoys the privilege of undoing by night all the despotic absurdi- ties he's committed during the day.

King: Of course! Now I see it! Thank you very much. I was sure it had its humorous side, and it was very dull of me not to have seen it before. But, as I said just now, it's a quaint world.

Phantis: Teems with quiet fun.

King: Yes. Properly considered, what a farce life is, to be sure!

SONG -- King.

First you're born--and I'll be bound you Find a dozen strangers round you.

"Hallo," cries the new-born baby, "Where's my parents? which may they be?"

Awkward silence--no reply-- Puzzled baby wonders why!

Father rises, bows politely-- Mother smiles (but not too brightly)-- Doctor mumbles like a dumb thing-- Nurse is busy mixing something.-- Every symptom tends to show You're decidedly de trop--

All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!

Time's teetotum, If you spin it, Gives it quotum Once a minute.

I'll go bail You hit the nail, And if you fail, The deuce is in it!

King: You grow up and you discover What it is to be a lover.

Some young lady is selected-- Poor, perhaps, but well-connected.

Whom you hail (for Love is blind) As the Queen of fairy kind.

Though she's plain--perhaps unsightly, Makes her face up--laces tightly, In her form your fancy traces All the gifts of all the graces.

Rivals none the maiden woo, So you take her and she takes you.

All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!

Joke beginning, Never ceases Till your inning Time releases, On your way You blindly stray, And day by day The joke increases!

King: Ten years later--Time progresses-- Sours your temper--thins your tresses; Fancy, then, her chain relaxes; Rates are facts and so are taxes.

Fairy Queen's no longer young-- Fairy Queen has got a tongue.

Twins have probably intruded-- Quite unbidden--just as you did-- They're a source of care and trouble-- Just as you were--only double.

Comes at last the final stroke-- Time has had its little joke!

All: Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!

Daily driven (Wife as drover) Ill you've thriven-- Ne'er in clover; Lastly, when Three-score and ten (And not till then), The joke is over!

Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!

Then--and then The joke is over!

(Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis.)

King: (putting on his crown again) It's all very well. I always like to look on the humorous side of things; but I do not think I ought to be required to write libels on my own moral character. Naturally, I see the joke of it--anybody would--but Zara's coming home today; she's no longer a child, and I confess I should not like her to see my Opera--though it's uncommonly well written; and I should be sorry if the Palace Peeper got into her hands--though it's certainly smart--very smart indeed. It is almost a pity that I have to buy up the whole edition, because it's really too good to be lost. And Lady Sophy--that blameless type of perfect womanhood! Great Heavens, what would she say if the Second Housemaid business happened to meet her pure blue eye! (Enter Lady Sophy)

Lady S.: My monarch is soliloquizing. I will withdraw. (going)

King: No--pray don't go. Now I'll give you fifty chances, and you won't guess whom I was thinking of.

Lady S.: Alas, sir, I know too well. Ah! King, it's an old, old story, and I'm wellnigh weary of it! Be warned in time--from my heart I pity you, but I am not for you!

(going)

King: But hear what I have to say.

Lady S.: It is useless. Listen. In the course of a long and adven- turous career in the princ.i.p.al European Courts, it has been revealed to me that I unconsciously exercise a weird and supernatural fascination over all Crowned Heads. So irre- sistible is this singular property, that there is not a European Monarch who has not implored me, with tears in his eyes, to quit his kingdom, and take my fatal charms else- where. As time was getting on it occurred to me that by descending several pegs in the scale of Respectability I might qualify your Majesty for my hand. Actuated by this humane motive and happening to possess Respectability enough for Six, I consented to confer Respectability enough for Four upon your two younger daughters--but although I have, alas, only Respectability enough for Two left, there is still, as I gather from the public press of this country (producing the Palace Peeper), a considerable balance in my favor.

King: (aside) d.a.m.n! (aloud) May I ask how you came by this?

Lady S.: It was handed to me by the officer who holds the position of Public Exploder to your Imperial Majesty.

King: And surely, Lady Sophy, surely you are not so unjust as to place any faith in the irresponsible gabble of the Society press!

Lady S.: (referring to paper) I read on the authority of Senex Senior that your Majesty was seen dancing with your Second Housemaid on the Oriental Platform of the Tivoli Gardens.

That is untrue?

King: Absolutely. Our Second Housemaid has only one leg.

Lady S.: (suspiciously) How do you know that?

King: Common report. I give you my honor.

Lady S.: It may be so. I further read--and the statement is vouched for by no less an authority that Mephistopheles Minor--that your Majesty indulges in a bath of hot rum-punch every morning. I trust I do not lay myself open to the charge of displaying an indelicate curiosity as to the mysteries of the royal dressing-room when I ask if there is any founda- tion for this statement?

King: None whatever. When our medical adviser exhibits rum-punch it is as a draught, not as a fomentation. As to our bath, our valet plays the garden hose upon us every morning.

Lady S.: (shocked) Oh, pray--pray spare me these unseemly details.

Well, you are a Despot--have you taken steps to slay this scribbler?

King: Well, no--I have not gone so far as that. After all, it's the poor devil's living, you know.

Lady S.: It is the poor devil's living that surprises me. If this man lies, there is no recognized punishment that is suffi- ciently terrible for him.

King: That's precisely it. I--I am waiting until a punishment is discovered that will exactly meet the enormity of the case.

I am in constant communication with the Mikado of j.a.pan, who is a leading authority on such points; and, moreover, I have the ground plans and sectional elevations of several capital punishments in my desk at this moment. Oh, Lady Sophy, as you are powerful, be merciful!

DUET -- King and Lady Sophy.

King: Subjected to your heavenly gaze (Poetical phrase), My brain is turned completely.