The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Part 85

If somebody there chanced to be Who loved me in a manner true, My heart would point him out to me, And I would point him out to you.

(Referring But here it says of those who point-- to book.) Their manners must be out of joint-- You may not point-- You must not point-- It's manners out of joint, to point!

Ah! Had I the love of such as he, Some quiet spot he'd take me to, Then he could whisper it to me, And I could whisper it to you.

(Referring But whispering, I've somewhere met, to book.) Is contrary to etiquette: Where can it be (Searching book.) Now let me see--(Finding reference.) Yes, yes!

It's contrary to etiquette!

(Showing it to Dame Hannah.)

If any well-bred youth I knew, Polite and gentle, neat and trim, Then I would hint as much to you, And you could hint as much to him.

(Referring But here it says, in plainest print, to book.) "It's most unladylike to hint"-- You may not hint, You must not hint-- It says you mustn't hint, in print!

Ah! And if I loved him through and through-- (True love and not a pa.s.sing whim), Then I could speak of it to you, And you could speak of it to him.

(Referring But here I find it doesn't do to book.) To speak until you're spoken to.

Where can it be? (Searching book.) Now let me see--(Finding reference.) Yes, yes!

"Don't speak until you're spoken to!"

(Exit Dame Hannah.)

ROSE. Poor aunt! Little did the good soul think, when she breathed the hallowed name of Robin, that he would do even as well as another. But he resembleth all the youths in this village, in that he is unduly bashful in my presence, and lo, it is hard to bring him to the point. But soft, he is here!

(Rose is about to go when Robin enters and calls her.)

ROBIN. Mistress Rose!

ROSE. (Surprised.) Master Robin!

ROB. I wished to say that--it is fine.

ROSE. It is pa.s.sing fine.

ROB. But we do want rain.

ROSE. Aye, sorely! Is that all?

ROB. (Sighing.) That is all.

ROSE. Good day, Master Robin!

ROB. Good day, Mistress Rose! (Both going--both stop.) ROSE. I crave pardon, I-- ROB. I beg pardon, I-- ROSE. You were about to say?-- ROB. I would fain consult you-- ROSE. Truly?

ROB. It is about a friend.

ROSE. In truth I have a friend myself.

ROB. Indeed? I mean, of course-- ROSE. And I would fain consult you-- ROB. (Anxiously.) About him?

ROSE. (Prudishly.) About her.

ROB. (Relieved.) Let us consult one another.

DUET-ROBIN and ROSE

ROB. I know a youth who loves a little maid-- (Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!) Silent is he, for he's modest and afraid-- (Hey, but he's timid as a youth can be!)

ROSE. I know a maid who loves a gallant youth, (Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!) She cannot tell him all the sad, sad truth-- (Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)

ROB. Poor little man!

ROSE. Poor little maid!

ROB. Poor little man!

ROSE. Poor little maid!

BOTH. Now tell me pray, and tell me true, What in the world should the (young manmaiden) do?

ROB. He cannot eat and he cannot sleep-- (Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!) Daily he goes for to wail--for to weep-- (Hey, but he's wretched as a youth can be!)

ROSE. She's very thin and she's very pale-- (Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!) Daily she goes for to weep--for to wail-- (Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)

ROB. Poor little maid!

ROSE. Poor little man!

ROB. Poor little maid!

ROSE. Poor little man!

BOTH. Now tell me pray, and tell me true, What in the world should the (young manmaiden) do?

ROSE. If I were the youth I should offer her my name-- (Hey, but her face is a sight for to see!)

ROB. If were the maid I should fan his honest flame-- (Hey, but he's bashful as a youth can be!)

ROSE. If I were the youth I should speak to her to-day-- (Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)

ROB. If I were the maid I should meet the lad half way-- (For I really do believe that timid youth will die!)

ROSE. Poor little man!

ROB. Poor little maid!

ROSE. Poor little man!

ROB. Poor little maid!

BOTH. I thank you, (misssir), for your counsel true; I'll tell that (youthmaid) what (h.e.s.h.e) ought to do!

(Exit ROSE.)

ROB. Poor child! I sometimes think that if she wasn't quite so particular I might venture--but no, no--even then I should be unworthy of her!

(He sit desponding. Enter Old Adam.)

ADAM. My kind master is sad! Dear Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd-- ROB. Hus.h.!.+ As you love me, breathe not that hated name.

Twenty years ago, in horror at the prospect of inheriting that hideous t.i.tle, and with it the ban that compels all who succeed to the baronetcy to commit at least one deadly crime per day, for life, I fled my home, and concealed myself in this innocent village under the name of Robin Oakapple. My younger brother, Despard, believing me to be dead, succeeded to the t.i.tle and its attendant curse. For twenty years I have been dead and buried.

Don't dig me up now.

ADAM. Dear master, it shall be as you wish, for have I not sworn to obey you for ever in all things? Yet, as we are here alone, and as I belong to that particular description of good old man to whom the truth is a refres.h.i.+ng novelty, let me call you by your own right t.i.tle once more! (Robin a.s.sents.) Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd! Baronet! Of Ruddigore! Whew! It's like eight hours at the seaside!

ROB. My poor old friend! Would there were more like you!

ADAM. Would there were indeed! But I bring you good tidings. Your foster-brother, Richard, has returned from sea--his s.h.i.+p the Tom-t.i.t rides yonder at anchor, and he himself is even now in this very village!

ROB. My beloved foster-brother? No, no--it cannot be!

ADAM. It is even so--and see, he comes this way!

(Exeunt together.)