Arthur Sullivan

The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan


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themselves, and with this view the Acting Temporary Sub-Deputy

       Assistant Vice-Chamberlain will sing comic songs in the

       Market-place from noon to nightfall. Finally, we have composed a

       Wedding Anthem, with which the entire population are required to

       provide themselves. It can be obtained from our Grand Ducal

       publishers at the usual discount price, and all the Chamberlains

       will be expected to push the sale. (Chamberlains bow and

       exeunt). I don't feel at all comfortable. I hope I'm not doing

       a foolish thing in getting married. After all, it's a poor heart

       that never rejoices, and this wedding of mine is the first little

       treat I've allowed myself since my christening. Besides,

       Caroline's income is very considerable, and as her ideas of

       economy are quite on a par with mine, it ought to turn out well.

       Bless her tough old heart, she's a mean little darling! Oh, here

       she is, punctual to her appointment!

       Enter BARONESS VON KRAKENFELDT.

       BAR. Rudolph! Why, what's the matter?

       RUD. Why, I'm not quite myself, my pet. I'm a little

       worried and upset. I want a tonic. It's the low diet, I think.

       I am afraid, after all, I shall have to take the bull by the

       horns and have an egg with my breakfast.

       BAR. I shouldn't do anything rash, dear. Begin with a

       jujube. (Gives him one.)

       RUD. (about to eat it, but changes his mind). I'll keep it

       for supper. (He sits by her and tries to put his arm round her

       waist.)

       BAR. Rudolph, don't! What in the world are you thinking

       of?

       RUD. I was thinking of embracing you, my sugarplum. Just

       as a little cheap treat.

       BAR. What, here? In public? Really, you appear to have

       no

       sense of delicacy.

       RUD. No sense of delicacy, Bon-bon!

       BAR. No. I can't make you out. When you courted me, all

       your courting was done publicly in the Marketplace. When you

       proposed to me, you proposed in the Market-place. And now that

       we're engaged you seem to desire that our first tte-

       occur in the Marketplace! Surely you've a room in your

       Palace—with blinds—that would do?

       RUD. But, my own, I can't help myself. I'm bound by my

       own

       decree.

       BAR. Your own decree?

       RUD. Yes. You see, all the houses that give on the

       Market-place belong to me, but the drains (which date back to the

       reign of Charlemagne) want attending to, and the houses wouldn't

       let—so, with a view to increasing the value of the property, I

       decreed that all love-episodes between affectionate couples

       should take place, in public, on this spot, every Monday,

       Wednesday, and Friday, when the band doesn't play.

       BAR. Bless me, what a happy idea! So moral too! And have

       you found it answer?

       RUD. Answer? The rents have gone up fifty per cent, and

       the sale of opera-glasses (which is a Grand Ducal monopoly) has

       received an extraordinary stimulus! So, under the circumstances,

       would you allow me to put my arm round your waist? As a source

       of income. Just once!

       BAR. But it's so very embarrassing. Think of the

       opera-glasses!

       RUD. My good girl, that's just what I am thinking of.

       Hang

       it all, we must give them something for their money! What's

       that?

       BAR. (unfolding paper, which contains a large letter,

       which

       she hands to him). It's a letter which your detective asked me

       to hand to you. I wrapped it up in yesterday's paper to keep it

       clean.

       RUD. Oh, it's only his report! That'll keep. But, I say,

       you've never been and bought a newspaper?

       BAR. My dear Rudolph, do you think I'm mad? It came

       wrapped round my breakfast.

       RUD. (relieved). I thought you were not the sort of girl

       to

       go and buy a newspaper! Well, as we've got it, we may as well

       read it. What does it say?

       BAR. Why—dear me—here's your biography! "Our Detested

       Despot!"

       RUD. Yes—I fancy that refers to me.

       BAR. And it says—Oh, it can't be!

       RUD. What can't be?

       BAR. Why, it says that although you're going to marry me

       to-morrow, you were betrothed in infancy to the Princess of Monte

       Carlo!

       RUD. Oh yes—that's quite right. Didn't I mention it?

       BAR. Mention it! You never said a word about it!

       RUD. Well, it doesn't matter, because, you see, it's

       practically off.

       BAR. Practically off?

       RUD. Yes. By the terms of the contract the betrothal is

       void unless the Princess marries before she is of age. Now, her

       father, the Prince, is stony-broke, and hasn't left his house for

       years for fear of arrest. Over and over again he has implored me

       to come to him to be married-but in vain. Over and over again he

       has implored me to advance him the money to enable the Princess

       to come to me—but in vain. I am very young, but not as young as

       that; and as the Princess comes of age at two tomorrow, why at

       two to-morrow I'm a free man, so I appointed that hour for our

       wedding, as I shall like to have as much marriage as I can get

       for my money.

       BAR. I see. Of course, if the married state is a happy

       state, it's a pity to waste any of it.

       RUD. Why, every hour we delayed I should lose a lot of you

       and you'd lose a lot of me!

       BAR. My thoughtful darling! Oh, Rudolph, we ought to be

       very happy!

       RUD. If I'm not, it'll be my first bad investment. Still,

       there is such a thing as a slump even in Matrimonials.

       BAR. I often picture us in the long, cold, dark December

       evenings, sitting close to each other and singing impassioned

       duets to keep us