The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Part 137

It's much less painful on the whole To go and sit on red hot coal 'Til you're completely flayed, Or ask a kindly friend to crack Your wretched bones upon the rack Than love a heartless jade, Than love a heartless jade.

The bird that breakfasts on your lip, I would I had him in my grip, He sippeth where I dare not sip, I can't get over that.

The cat you fondle soft and sly, He layeth where I dare not lie.

We're not on terms, that cat and I.

I do not like that cat.

It's much less painful on the whole To go and sit on red hot coal 'Til you're completely flayed, Or ask a kindly friend to crack Your wretched bones upon the rack Than love a heartless jade, Than love a heartless jade.

Or ask a kindly friend to crack Your wretched bones upon the rack Than love a heartless jade.

[Exit WILFRED. Enter people excitedly, followed by YEOMEN of the Guard with SERGEANT MERYLL at rear.

No. 2. Tower warders, Under orders (Double Chorus) CROWD and YEOMEN, with Solo 2ND YEOMEN

CROWD Tower warders, Under orders, Gallant pikemen, valiant sworders!

Brave in bearing, Foemen scaring, In their bygone days of daring!

Ne'er a stranger There to danger-- Each was o'er the world a ranger; To the story Of our glory Each a bold, a bold contributory!

YEOMEN In the autumn of our life, Here at rest in ample clover, We rejoice in telling over Our impetuous May and June.

In the evening of our day, With the sun of life declining, We recall without repining All the heat of bygone noon, We recall without repining All the heat, We recall, recall All of bygone noon.

2ND YEOMAN This the autumn of our life, This the evening of our day; Weary we of battle strife, Weary we of mortal fray.

But our year is not so spent, And our days are not so faded, But that we with one consent, Were our loved land invaded, Still would face a foreign foe, As in days of long ago, Still would face a foreign foe, As in days of long ago, As in days of long ago, As in days of long ago.

YEOMEN Still would face a foreign foe, As in days of long ago.

CROWD Tower warders, Under orders, Gallant pikemen, valiant sworders!

Brave in bearing, Foemen scaring, In their bygone days of daring!

CROWD YEOMEN

Tower warders, This the autumn of our life Under orders, Gallant pikemen, Valiant sworders Brave in bearing, This the evening of our day; Foemen scaring, In their bygone days of daring!

Ne'er a stranger Weary we of battle strife, There to danger Each was o'er the world a ranger:

To the story Weary we of mortal fray.

Of our glory Each a bold, A bold contributory.

To the story This the autumn of our life.

Of our glory Each a bold contributory! This the evening of our day, Each a bold contributory! This the evening of our day.

[Exit CROWD. Manent YEOMEN. Enter DAME CARRUTHERS.

DAME A good day to you!

2ND YEOMAN Good day, Dame Carruthers. Busy to-day?

DAME Busy, aye! the fire in the Beauchamp [p.r.o.nounced Bee'cham] last night has given me work enough. A dozen poor prisoners-- Richard Colfax, Sir Martin Byfleet, Colonel Fairfax, Warren the preacher-poet, and half-a- score others-- all packed into one small cell, not six feet square. Poor Colonel Fairfax, who's to die to- day, is to be removed to no. 14 in the Cold Harbour that he may have his last hour alone with his confessor; and I've to see to that.

2ND YEOMAN Poor gentleman! He'll die bravely. I fought under him two years since, and he valued his life as it were a feather!

PHOEBE He's the bravest, the handsomest, and the best young gentleman in England! He twice saved my father's life; and it's a cruel thing, a wicked thing, and a barbarous thing that so gallant a hero should lose his head-- for it's the handsomest head in England!

DAME For dealings with the devil. Aye! if all were beheaded who dealt with him, there'd be busy things on Tower Green.

PHOEBE You know very well that Colonel Fairfax is a student of alchemy-- nothing more, and nothing less; but this wicked Tower, like a cruel giant in a fairy-tale, must be fed with blood, and that blood must be the best and bravest in England, or it's not good enough for the old Blunderbore. Ugh!

DAME Silence, you silly girl; you know not what you say. I was born in the old keep, and I've grown grey in it, and, please G.o.d, I shall die and be buried in it; and there's not a stone in its walls that is not as dear tome as my right hand.

No. 3. When our gallant Norman foes (SONG WITH CHORUS) Dame Carruthers and Yeomen

DAME When our gallant Norman foes Made our merry land their own, And the Saxons from the Conqueror were flying,

At his bidding it arose, In its panoply of stone, A sentinel unliving and undying.

Insensible, I trow, As a sentinel should be, Though a queen to save her head should come a-suing, There's a legend on its brow That is eloquent to me, And it tells of duty done and duty doing.

The screw may twist and the rack may turn, And men may bleed and men may burn, O'er London town and its golden h.o.a.rd I keep my silent watch and ward!

CHORUS The screw may twist and the rack may turn, O'er London town and all its h.o.a.rd, And men may bleed and men may burn, O'er London town and all its h.o.a.rd, O'er London town and its golden h.o.a.rd I keep my silent watch and ward!

DAME Within its wall of rock The flower of the brave Have perished with a constancy unshaken.

From the dungeon to the block, From the scaffold to the grave, Is a journey many gallant hearts have taken.

And the wicked flames may hiss Round the heroes who have fought For conscience and for home in all its beauty, But the grim old fortalice Takes little heed of aught That comes not in the measure of its duty.

The screw may twist and the rack may turn, And men may bleed and men may burn, O'er London town and its golden h.o.a.rd I keep my silent watch and ward!

CHORUS The screw may twist and the rack may turn, O'er London town and all its h.o.a.rd, And men may bleed and men may burn, O'er London town and all its h.o.a.rd, O'er London town and its golden h.o.a.rd I keep my silent watch and ward!

[Exeunt all but PHOEBE. Enter SERGEANT MERYLL.

PHOEBE Father! Has no reprieve arrived for the poor gentleman?

MERYLL No, my la.s.s; but there's one hope yet. Thy brother Leonard, who, as a reward for his valour in saving his standard and cutting his way through fifty foes who would have hanged him, has been appointed a Yeoman of the Guard, will arrive to-day; and as he comes straight from Windsor, where the Court is, it may be-- it may be-- that he will bring the expected reprieve with him.

PHOEBE Oh, that he may!

MERYLL Amen to that! For the Colonel twice saved my life, and I'd give the rest of my life to save his! And wilt thou not be glad to welcome thy brave brother, with the fame of whose exploits all England is a-ringing?

PHOEBE Aye, truly, if he brings the reprieve.

MERYLL And not otherwise?

PHOEBE Well, he's a brave fellow indeed, and I love brave men.

MERYLL All brave men?