LUD. All this is rank treason to the cause. I suffer as
much as any of you. I loathe the repulsive thing—I can't
contemplate it without a shudder—but I'm a conscientious
conspirator, and if you won't give the sign I will. (Eats
sausage-roll with an effort.)
LISA. Poor martyr! He's always at it, and it's a wonder
where he puts it!
NOT. Well now, about Troilus and Cressida. What do you
play?
LUD. (struggling with his feelings). If you'll be so
obliging as to wait until I've got rid of this feeling of warm
oil at the bottom of my throat, I'll tell you all about it.
(LISA gives him some brandy.) Thank you, my love; it's gone.
Well, the piece will be produced upon a scale of unexampled
magnificence. It is confidently predicted that my appearance as
King Agamemnon, in a Louis Quatorze wig, will mark an epoch in
the theatrical annals of Pfennig Halbpfennig. I endeavoured to
persuade Ernest Dummkopf, our manager, to lend us the classical
dresses for our marriage. Think of the effect of a real Athenian
wedding procession cavorting through the streets of Speisesaal!
Torches burning—cymbals banging—flutes tootling—citharae
twanging—and a throng of fifty lovely Spartan virgins capering
before us, all down the High Street, singing "Eloia! Eloia!
Opoponax, Eloia!" It would have been tremendous!
NOT. And he declined?
LUD. He did, on the prosaic ground that it might rain, and
the ancient Greeks didn't carry umbrellas! If, as is confidently
expected, Ernest Dummkopf is elected to succeed the dethroned
one, mark any words, he will make a mess of it.
[Exit LUDWIG with LISA.
OLGA. He's sure to be elected. His entire company has
promised to plump for him on the understanding that all the
places about the Court are filled by members of his troupe,
according to professional precedence.
ERNEST enters in great excitement.
BERTHA (looking off). Here comes Ernest Dummkopf. Now we
shall know all about it!
ALL. Well—what's the news? How is the election going?
ERN. Oh, it's a certainty—a practical certainty! Two of
the candidates have been arrested for debt, and the third is a
baby in arms—so, if you keep your promises, and vote solid, I'm
cocksure of election!
OLGA. Trust to us. But you remember the conditions?
ERN. Yes—all of you shall be provided for, for life.
Every man shall be ennobled—every lady shall have unlimited
credit at the Court Milliner's, and all salaries shall be paid
weekly in advance!
GRET. Oh, it's quite clear he knows how to rule a Grand
Duchy!
ERN. Rule a Grand Duchy? Why, my good girl, for ten years
past I've ruled a theatrical company! A man who can do that can
rule anything!
SONG—ERNEST.
Were I a king in very truth,
And had a son—a guileless youth—
In probable succession;
To teach him patience, teach him tact,
How promptly in a fix to act,
He should adopt, in point of fact,
A manager's profession.
To that condition he should stoop
(Despite a too fond mother),
With eight or ten "stars" in his troupe,
All jealous of each other!
Oh, the man who can rule a theatrical crew,
Each member a genius (and some of them two),
And manage to humour them, little and great,
Can govern this tuppenny State!
ALL. Oh, the man, etc.
Both A and B rehearsal slight—
They say they'll be "all right at night"
(They've both to go to school yet);
C in each act must change her dress,
D will attempt to "square the press";
E won't play Romeo unless
His grandmother plays Juliet;
F claims all hoydens as her rights
(She's played them thirty seasons);
And G must show herself in tights
For two convincing reasons—
Two very well-shaped reasons!
Oh, the man who can drive a theatrical team,
With wheelers and leaders in order supreme,
Can govern and rule, with a wave of his fin,
All Europe—with Ireland thrown in!
ALL. Oh, the man, etc.
[Exeunt all but ERNEST.
ERN. Elected by my fellow-conspirators to be Grand Duke of
Pfennig Halbpfennig as soon as the contemptible little occupant
of the historical throne is deposed—here is promotion indeed!
Why, instead of playing Troilus of Troy for a month, I shall play
Grand Duke of Pfennig Halbpfennig for a lifetime! Yet, am I
happy? No—far from happy! The lovely English comdienne—the
beautiful Julia, whose dramatic ability is so overwhelming that
our audiences forgive even her strong English accent—that rare
and radiant being treats my respectful advances with disdain
unutterable! And yet, who knows? She is haughty and ambitious,
and it may be that the splendid change in my fortunes may work a
corresponding change in her feelings towards me!
Enter JULIA JELLICOE.
JULIA. Herr Dummkopf, a word with you, if you please.
ERN. Beautiful English maiden—
JULIA. No compliments, I beg. I desire to speak with you
on a
purely professional matter, so we will, if you please, dispense
with
allusions to my personal appearance, which can only tend to widen
the
breach which already exists between us.
ERN. (aside). My only hope shattered! The haughty
Londoner
still despises me! (Aloud.) It shall be as you will.
JULIA. I understand that the conspiracy in which we are