Original Plays [First Series]

SCENE: _Library at DR. ATHELNEY’S._

_MRS. VAN BRUGH discovered seated, reading letters._

_Mrs. V. B._ “The Rev. Mr. Twemlow presents his compliments to Mrs. Van Brugh, and begs to return her annual subscription of fifty guineas to the Fund for providing Shelter for the Homeless Poor. He does not feel justified, under the circumstances, in accepting any aid from Mrs. Van Brugh on their behalf. With respect to the living to which Mrs. Van Brugh has recently presented Mr. Twemlow, he desires that she may understand that, if he consents to retain it, it is because he feels that it affords him a more extended sphere of spiritual usefulness than the curacy he has hitherto held.” (_Opens another letter._) “We, the aged occupants of the Locroft Almshouses, are humbly pained and respectfully shocked at the disclosures that have recently been made with reference to Miss Brandreth’s relations with the late Captain Van Brugh. We trust that it is unnecessary for us to add that, if it were not that the Almshouses pass at once from Miss Brandreth’s hands into those of an upright and stainless Christian, whom it is an honor respectfully to know and a satisfaction humbly to profit by, we would not have consented to occupy them for another day; we would rather have worked for our living. Signed.” (_Opens another letter._)

“HONORED MADAM,

“We shall feel greatly flattered and obliged if you will kindly afford us a sitting for your photograph at your earliest convenience.

“We are, Honored Madam, “With much esteem, “Most respectfully yours, “SCUMLEY & RIPP.”

When these people address me, I am degraded indeed! My name a word of reproach in every household in the country; my story a thing to be whispered and hinted at, but not to be openly discussed, by reason of its very shame. My years of atonement held to be mere evidences of skillfully sustained hypocrisy. Myself a confessed counterfeit, a base and worthless imposition, a living fraud on the immaculate beings with whom I dared to surround myself. And Ruth--Ruth, to whom my heart opened--even Ruth has left me. Poor blind, wayward woman, you are of the world, worldly; your idol is shattered, and there is the end. So let it be; it is meet that such as I should be alone!

_Enter EVE, who has overheard the last few lines. She approaches her mother quietly, and places her arms round her neck._

_Eve._ Mamma, you have many kind friends left to you; Dr. Athelney, who has given you a home; Edward and myself.

_Mrs. V. B._ A daughter’s love comes of honor. Can that love live without the honor that gives it sustenance?

_Eve._ Mamma, I am very young, and I know little of the world and its ways. Will you forgive me if I speak foolishly? Dear mamma, I think my love for you began with my life. It was born with me, and came of no other cause than that you are my mother. As I brought it with me into the world, so I believe I shall take it with me out of the world. Do you understand me? I mean, that if I had no other reason for loving than that you are my mother, I should still love you, for I am your child.

_Mrs. V. B._ A child to whom I have given a life that is worse than death; a life that brings with it a curse that will be flung in your teeth by all who know you, and first of all, and above all, by him who was to have married you.

_Eve._ No, no; your bitter sorrow has made you unjust. Remember, he loves me. I do not know why he loves me, but whatever he saw in me to love is there still. _I_ am not changed, and why should _he_ change? I trust his heart as I trust my own.

_Mrs. V. B._ Eve, I know the world too well. That man will visit my fault upon you. He will renounce you now, my poor child, and the world will say he is right.

_Eve._ I will believe this when I hear it from his own lips.

_Mrs. V. B._ You will hear it to-day. It is part of the punishment of women who sin as I have sinned, that those who are dearest to them shall suffer with them. See how I am punished. I have placed a mark of shame on you whom I love beyond all on earth. I have inflicted a lasting injury on you whom I would have died to serve. I have cursed you whom I would have blessed. I have degraded you whom I would have exalted. Eve, my darling--out of my sin has come your love for me. I have no claim to that love. I have cheated you into honoring me; for that honor comes of my sin. I do not ask for love--I do not ask for honor. Humbled, unworthy, and spirit-broken, I plead to you for pardon--only for pardon. (_Kneels to EVE._)

_Eve._ Pardon! My mother--my gentle-hearted mother. There is no thought in my mind but of the perfect woman of the past eighteen years. The luster of those years fills my world. I can see nothing else; I will see nothing else. As you have always been to me, so shall you always be--the type of gentle charity, tender helpfulness, brave, large-hearted womanly sympathy. When the bright light of those bygone years pales in my eyes, then let me suffer ten times the sorrow of to-day, for indeed I shall have deserved it. (_She rises and they embrace._)

_Enter FITZ PARTINGTON cautiously, L._

_Mrs. V. B._ Mr. Fitz Partington?

_Fitz._ Yes, but don’t be alarmed. If it is open to a person in my debased position to be regarded as a friend, regard me as one.

_Mrs. V. B._ Mr. Fitz Partington, I did you an injustice when I saw you last--I doubted you. Will you forgive me? (_Holding out her hand._)

_Fitz._ (_much affected, takes it_). Ma’am, this is the most unprofessional moment of my career. No one ever apologized to me before. It is very unmanning. It is like having a tooth out. I hope no one will ever apologize to me again.

_Eve._ Have you brought us any news, Mr. Fitz Partington? I am sure you are here for some kind purpose.

_Fitz._ It is my fate to appear continually before you in the character of the Mysterious Warner of penny romance. Mrs. Van Brugh, once more, beware of Smailey. That abject man is going at you again.

_Mrs. V. B._ Has he not done with me yet? Can I be poorer than I am--or more unhappy--or more despised?

_Fitz._ He proposes to make you so, but he will be sold.

_Eve._ But with what motive does he do this?

_Fitz._ Revenge. To adapt the words of the poet to Smailey’s frame of mind, “Revenge is sweet, especially on women.”

_Mrs. V. B._ Revenge on _me_! Through him, whom I have never injured, I have lost my home, my fortune, and my good name, and _he_ seeks revenge on _me_?

_Fitz._ Mrs. Van Brugh, if it is a source of pain to you to know that your friends have cut _you_, it may console you to know, that in their strict impartiality they have also cut _him_. He is hooted in the streets. His windows are a public cockshy. Nobody is at home to him, and though he is at home to everybody, it is to no purpose. The very tradesmen refuse to supply him. He is a desolate, and a hungry being, and nobody calls on him except the taxes.

_Eve._ I fear, Mr. Fitz Partington, that you may yourself have suffered from your association with this man.

_Fitz._ (_to EVE_). I? I believe you! Why I go about in fear of my life. Not only am I deprived of the necessaries of existence, but I have become the very focus of public execration. I couldn’t be more unpopular if I had come down to stand for the borough.

_Eve._ But, Mr. Fitz Partington, how in heaven’s name does he propose to injure my mother? What can he do to her, that he has not already done?

_Fitz._ He is advertising for the present Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage certificate, and the late Mrs. Van Brugh’s burial certificate, with a view to a prosecution for bigamy.

_Eve._ Mamma, mamma, do you hear this? (_Crosses to her._)

_Mrs. V. B._ Yes, I hear it. I knew that he had conceived this monstrous idea, but I have already assured him there is no ground for his suspicion. I have told him (_after a pause, and with much shame_) the truth.

_Fitz._ Yes, but he don’t believe you. Read that. (_Hands newspaper to EVE, who gives it to MRS. VAN BRUGH, pointing out advertisement._) Such is the snake-like and foxy character of that unparalleled old Pharisee, that he don’t believe you. Why, I am a professional skeptic at two guineas a day, and even I believe you.

_Mrs. V. B._ (_who has been reading the advertisement_). This is most shameful. This is monstrous beyond expression. I have borne my terrible punishment to this point patiently, and without undue murmur, but I will bear no more. Let that man know this. He has roused me at last, and I will meet him face to face. Let him know that, helpless and friendless as he believes me to be; crushed as I am under the weight of the fearful revelation he has extorted from me; shunned as I am, and despised even by those whom all despise but I, I am yet strong in this, that I have nothing more to lose. He has made me desperate, and let him beware. There are men in these days as hot in the defense of an insulted woman as in the days gone by, and he shall have a legion of them about his ears. I have been punished enough. I will be punished no further.

_Eve._ But who could have put this monstrous scheme into his head? What demon could have suggested it to him?

_Fitz._ I suggested it to him, but I ain’t a demon.

_Eve and Mrs. V. B._ You!

_Fitz._ I--I drew up the advertisement, put it in, and paid for it. It’s a dodge, I’ve put him on a wrong scent.

_Mrs. V. B._ How am I to understand this?

_Fitz._ That’s just it; you are _not_ to understand--at present. You are to do me justice to believe that, when you _do_ understand it, you will like it very much. I’ve put him on a wrong scent, and if I’m not very much mistaken, it will have the effect of taking him in his own toils. For the present it is enough to tell you that his advertisement has been answered, and that the person who answered it is to meet him here this afternoon.

_Mrs. V. B._ Here? Why does he come to _me_?

_Fitz._ Because he conceives, with some reason, that you are not likely to go to him. But don’t be alarmed, _I_ shall accompany him, as per usual. [_Exit FITZ PARTINGTON._

_Mrs. V. B._ (_covering her face_). Oh, the shame of it! Oh, the shame of it! To know that my terrible story is the common gossip of every plow-boy in the village; to feel that there is not a flighty servant-girl who does not gather her skirts about her as she passes me; to be certain when women cross the road it is to escape the contamination of my presence; and when they meet me face to face, it is that they may toss their head and tell each other that they knew it from the first! Oh, the shame of it! Oh, the shame of it!

_Eve._ But Mr. Smailey can do nothing. His wicked schemes must recoil upon himself. We will leave Locroft; we will leave this fearful place. Dr. Athelney sails in a fortnight, and he has made arrangements that we may accompany him. There, in a new world, with new friends and new duties, we shall forget all that is bitter in the past, and gather new stores of happiness from the future that is before us. (_They embrace._)

_Enter DR. ATHELNEY, L. D. Crosses to EVE._

_Dr. A._ Mrs. Van Brugh; Eve, my dear, prepare yourself for a surprise. This morning, Mrs. Van Brugh and I were discussing Frederick Smailey’s probable course of action. That very good or very bad young man is at this moment crossing the lawn with my son, Ted. He is coming with the view, no doubt, of setting all future discussion on that point at rest. Let us suspend judgment on that admirable or detestable lad until he has explained himself.

_Eve._ I knew he would come; I was sure of it. Mamma, dear, I told you he loved me, I told you he would come.

_Enter FRED and TED ATHELNEY, arm-in-arm._

_Fred._ Eve!

_Eve._ (_running to him_). Fred, my dear Fred! (_He embraces her._)

_Ted._ Here he is, I was sure of him; Eve and I were both sure of him. We knew him, Eve, didn’t we?

_Fred._ Edward came to me, Mrs. Van Brugh, and told me that--that you doubted me. (_Much affected._)

_Ted._ Yes, I told him that. Don’t be angry with me, but when Fred Smailey’s honor is at stake, Ted Athelney doesn’t beat about the bush. I went straight to him and told him at once how the land lay. “Fred,” said I, “Eve knows you, and I know you, but the others don’t. Come over with me and show them what you really are. Show them that you are the brave, straight-hearted, thorough-going fellow I know you to be.” He didn’t give me time to say it twice.

_Fred._ Mrs. Van Brugh, will you take my hand? (_Shakes her hand. Crosses to DR. A., then shakes his hand._) Dr. Athelney, my very dear friend, this is very, very kind of you. You are too noble-hearted a man to confound the son with the father.

_Dr. A._ I hope and trust, sir, that I have done you an injustice. (_Goes up._)

_Fred._ Mrs. Van Brugh, I know not how to express my opinion of my father’s behavior in terms that would be consistent with my duty as a son. I am most painfully situated. Permit me to content myself with offering you my deepest and most respectful sympathy.

_Mrs. V. B._ Mr. Smailey, you speak very kindly.

_Ted._ And he means kindly, mind that. I’ll stake my life he means kindly.

_Fred._ Thank you, Edward; thank you very heartily. My father, Mrs. Van Brugh, is, I have learnt, a very hard man; a good man, a truly good man, but a very hard one. He is unaccountably incensed against you; I have pleaded for you, but, alas, in vain. I have implored him to allow you, at least, to continue to occupy the cottage which is endeared to me by so many happy recollections, dear Eve, but in vain. (_He takes EVE’S hand._) He--he answered me harshly for the first time in his life. (_Much moved._)

_Ted._ My very dear fellow, heaven bless you for that.

_Fred._ Under these circumstances I said to myself, How can I lighten this intolerable burden to them? If not to Mrs. Van Brugh, at least to Eve. I lay awake all last night, thinking it over, and at last--at last I saw my way.

_Ted._ (_to DR. A._). Trust Fred Smailey to find the right thing to do.

_Fred._ I said to myself, Here is an amiable and blameless young lady placed, through no fault of her own, in the painful position of being engaged to a member of a family which has done her and her mother a fearful and irreparable injury. Association with such a family must be, to her, a source of inconceivable distress. To a sensitive and high-minded girl, such as I know my darling to be, an alliance with such a family must be simply insupportable. Deeply as I love her, and because I love her deeply, I will fight with the great love that is within me; I will act as becomes a man of honor; I will at once, and of my own free will, release her from this engagement. Eve, my dear Eve, you are free. (_EVE faints in MRS. VAN BRUGH’S arms._)

_Mrs. V. B._ My darling! My poor, poor darling!

_Dr. A._ (C.) Sir, I have been a clergyman of the Church of England for five-and-forty years, and, until to-day, I have never regretted the restrictions that my calling has imposed upon me. My hands, sir, are tied. Ted, my boy, these remarks do not apply to you.

_Ted._ (_crosses to FRED SMAILEY_). You infernal villain! You unutterably mean and sneaking villain! (_Seizing him._)

_Mrs. V. B._ Edward! Edward!

_Ted._ Don’t stop me, or I shall kill him. Look there, you miserable hound (_pointing to EVE_), look there! Do you see the work that your infernal heart has done? Why, you miserable cur, she loved you! You trembling hypocrite, she loved you! Eve loved you--loved _you_! Look at her, man, and if your devil’s heart don’t beat the harder for the sight, it hasn’t a beat left in it!

_Mrs. V. B._ Dr. Athelney, pray, pray stop him.

_Dr. A._ Stop him? No, certainly not. I’m too fond of plain truth, and I hear it too seldom to stop it when I do hear it. Go on with your remarks, my boy, if you’ve any thing else to say.

_Enter SMAILEY, followed by FITZ PARTINGTON, L._

_Mr. S._ When your son has quite finished shaking my son, perhaps you will kindly devote a little attention to me.

_Fred._ Edward, I sincerely hope you may live to apologize for this. (_Offers to shake hands; TED refuses._)

_Dr. A._ Mr. Smailey, I must tell you that your presence here is an act of audacity for which I was not prepared.

_Mr. S._ I fear that the surprise of my appearance here is but the first of a series of surprises in store for you.

_Fitz._ And I am convinced of it.

_Dr. A._ Leave my house, sir! (_To SMAILEY._)

_Mr. S._ Nay, nay. I am here in the discharge of a high public duty, and I propose to remain. Come, Dr. Athelney, is this quite considerate? Is this quite as it should be? You are a minister of the Church, about to be invested with the very highest Colonial functions. In affording shelter to this unhappy person, have you not allowed your sympathy for her misfortunes to blind you to the fact that you are a clergyman?

_Dr. A._ Sir, I never had my duty as a clergyman so strongly before my eyes as when I placed my home at the disposal of this admirable lady. And, believe me, sir, I never felt so strongly disposed to forget my duty as a clergyman as I do at this moment. My hands are tied. Ted, my boy, these remarks do not apply to you.

_Ted._ Mr. Smailey, if you’ll come with me, I’ll see you out.

_Fitz._ (_to TED_). See him out? Nonsense. Hear him out. He’s worth listening to, I can tell you.

_Mr. S._ Miss Brandreth (_to MRS. VAN BRUGH_), when you denied having ever gone through the form of marriage with Captain Van Brugh, I considered it my duty, as a magistrate accustomed to deal with evidence, to disbelieve you. At the suggestion of my solicitor (_aside, to FITZ_) A lie, sir, for you are no solicitor; heaven forgive you! (_Aloud._) At his suggestion I advertised for the burial certificate of the late Mrs. Van Brugh. That advertisement has been answered.

_Fitz._ That advertisement has been answered.

_Mr. S._ The person who answered it is at this moment waiting without.

_Fitz._ Waiting without.

_Mr. S._ And, with or without your permission, shall be introduced.

_Fitz._ Shall be introduced.

_Mr. S._ Mr. Fitz Partington shall introduce him.

_Fitz._ It ain’t a _him_, it’s a _her_. (_Opens door, and discovers RUTH._)

_Mrs. V. B._ Ruth Tredgett!

_Ruth._ Ay, missis, ’tain’t no other.

_Mr. S._ What does this mean? Is this a hoax? (_Indignantly, to FITZ PARTINGTON._)

_Fitz._ Is this a hoax? (_Appealing to the others_).

_Mr. S._ What does this woman want here?

_Fitz._ Woman, what do you want here?

_Ruth._ Want to help you agin _her_. (_Indicating MRS. VAN BRUGH._)

_Mrs. V. B._ Oh, Ruth, Ruth!

_Mr. S._ Do you mean this, Tredgett? (_Crosses to RUTH._)

_Ruth._ Ay, I mean it, Smailey. It’s justice; and justice must be done. It was done agin me, years ago, and why not agin her now?

_Mr. S._ Dr. Athelney, this poor woman is an example to you. She has learned her mistress’s true character.

_Ruth._ Ay, I have. I have learned my missis’s true character.

_Mrs. V. B._ Ruth, how have I injured you, that even you turn against me? I loved you, Ruth!

_Ruth._ (_with some emotion_). You ha’n’t injured me, but I’m a ’spectable woman. You’ve made me ’spectable, and you must bide the consequence. (_To MR. SMAILEY_)--You want the burial-ticket of Captain Van Brugh’s dead wife?

_Mr. S._ Yes; I have offered £50 for it.

_Ruth._ Gi’ us the money.

_Mr. S._ Why?

_Ruth._ I’ve got the paper.

_Mr. S._ How? How did you get it?

_Ruth._ No odds how. I’ve got it.

_Mr. S._ Give it to me, and you shall be paid.

_Ruth._ Nay, I must ha’ the brass first.

_Mr. S._ As soon as I’ve verified it you shall be paid.

_Ruth._ Maybe you’ll take some time over it. I must ha’ the brass.

_Mr. S._ (_giving her a bank note_). There is the money, but mind, if you are deceiving me, there is a constable outside.

_Ruth._ No fear. (_Tears up the note._)

_Mr. S._ You fool, what have you done! Give me the paper.

_Ruth._ I’ll give it to him. (_Indicating FITZ PARTINGTON, who has come between them._)

_Fitz._ (_takes paper and reads_). “St. Andrew’s Church, Port Philip, 17 July, 1858.”

_Mr. S._ ’58! Why, she died in ’69--I know she died in ’69. This is some forgery--we shall want the constable yet.

_Fitz._ This is some forgery. We shall want the constable yet. (_Reads._) “This is to certify that on the above date I read the burial service over the remains of Martha Vane, of Port Philip.” (_SMAILEY sinks into a chair._)

_Dr. A._ Martha Vane!

_Mrs. V. B._ That was her maiden name, the name under which she passed when she left her husband.

_Mr. S._ (_much confused_). This is not what I advertised for.

_Fitz._ No, but it’s what _I_ advertised for.

_Mr. S._ You? What have you to do with this?

_Fitz._ I was engaged to trace this forgery to you at the time when you engaged me to undermine the character of this inestimable lady. In strict compliance with the terms of our contract, you have allowed me the free run of all your books, papers, and memoranda, and I am much obliged to you.

_Fred._ (_who has heard this with the greatest concern_). Father! Tell them that it’s a lie.

_Fitz._ It ain’t a lie. The case is only too clear. Tredgett and he were both in it, but she turns Queen’s evidence. Mr. Smailey, I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creature, but your own policeman is without, and he will be happy to walk off with you whenever you find it convenient to be arrested. (_About to touch SMAILEY on shoulder._)

_Fred._ Father, tell them that it’s a lie. (_To FITZ._) Keep your hands off him,--stand back--it’s a lie, I tell you. Stand back, or I shall do you a mischief. Father, whatever others believe of you, _I_ believe you to be the best and truest man on earth. For my sake, for the sake of my belief, tell them that it’s a lie. For the love of God, tell them it’s a lie.

_Mr. S._ I have nothing to say, my boy; I have lied enough.

_Fred._ But they will take you away! Great heaven, think what will follow!

_Mr. S._ I care not what may follow. Whatever punishment may be in store for me, will be as nothing compared to the bitter shame of my degradation in the eyes of my poor boy, whom I have loved. He will desert me now! And what matters the rest--what matters the rest?

_Fred._ Father, I swear that where you are, there will I be to the end.

_Mr. S._ Heaven bless you for that.

_Fred._ Whatever you may have been--whatever I may have been--I am your son, and I love you; and I will be with you--to the end!

_Mr. S._ And the end is at hand.

_Fitz._ And the end is at hand.

[_Exeunt FREDERICK SMAILEY, followed by FITZ PARTINGTON. EVE stretches out her arms towards FREDERICK as he goes, but he does not see her._

_Ruth._ (_who, during the preceding dialogue, has been kneeling at MRS. VAN BRUGH’S feet._). Mistress, my good and kind mistress, I had that paper in safe keeping miles away, I walked day and night to fetch it. It was hard to leave you in your sorrow, but none other could have got it. My mistress, my pure and perfect mistress, my angel from heaven, we will never part again.

_Mrs. V. B._ We will never part again, Ruth. Under the guidance of our loving friend, we will sail to the new land, where, humbly as becomes penitents, cheerfully as becomes those who have hope, earnestly as becomes those who speak out of the fullness of their experience, we will teach lessons of loving kindness, patience, faith, forbearance, hope, and charity.

_Dr. A._ “And the greatest of these is CHARITY.”

THE PRINCESS:

_A Whimsical Allegory._

(_Being a Respectful Perversion of Mr. Tennyson’s Poem._)

Dramatis Personæ. KING HILDEBRAND MR. DAVID FISHER. PRINCE HILARION, _his Son_ MISS MARIA SIMPSON. (MRS. W. H. LISTON.) CYRIL } _his friends, Noblemen of_ {MISS AUGUSTA THOMSON. FLORIAN } _King Hildebrand’s Court_ {MISS MONTGOMERY.

KING GAMA MR. ELLIOTT.

PRINCE ARAC } {MISS JESSIE EARLE. PRINCE GURON } _his Sons_ {MISS HARRINGTON. PRINCE SCYNTHIUS } {MISS EWELL.

ATHO, _King Hildebrand’s Chamberlain_ MR. FRANKS. FIRST OFFICER MR. ARTHUR BROWN. SECOND OFFICER MR. DAVIS. GOBBO, _a Porter_ MR. ST. MAUR.

{_Daughter of King Gama,_} PRINCESS IDA { _and Principal of the_} MISS MATTIE REINHARDT. { _Ladies’ University._ }

LADY PSYCHE {_Professor of_ } MISS FANNY ADDISON. { _Experimental Science_}

LADY BLANCHE {_Professor of Abstract_ } MRS. POYNTER. { _Philosophy_ }

MELISSA, _her Daughter_ MISS PATTI JOSEPHS.

BERTHA } {MISS JOY. ADA } {MISS CLYFOARD. CHLOE } {MISS MOORE. SACHARISSA} _Undergraduates._ {MISS ALMA. SYLVIA } {MISS EVERARD. PHŒBE } {MISS FITZJAMES.

PHYLLIS MISS CORINNE. AMARANTHE MISS GRAHAM. LAURA MISS CLARA.

_Undergraduates, Soldiers, Courtiers, Pages, &c._

THE PRINCESS.

SCENE FIRST.--_Court in King Hildebrand’s Palace._

_KING HILDEBRAND, discovered seated, in gloomy mood--FLORIAN and other COURTIERS discovered looking off through telescopes--CYRIL standing by the KING._

_Hilde._ See you no sign of Gama?

_Flori._ None, my liege.

_Hilde._ It’s very odd indeed! If Gama fails To put in an appearance at our court, Before the sun has set in yonder west, And fails to bring the Princess Ida here-- To whom our son Hilarion was betrothed At the extremely early age of one-- There’s war between King Gama and ourself. (_Aside to CYRIL_) Oh Cyril, how I dread this interview! It’s twenty years since he and I have met. He was a twisted monster--all awry, As though Dame Nature, angry with her work, Had crumbled it in fitful petulance!

_Cyril._ But, sir, a twisted and ungainly trunk, Often bears goodly fruit--perhaps he was A kind, well-spoken gentleman?

_Hilde._ Oh, no-- For, adder-like, his sting lay in his tongue! His bitter insolence still rankles here, Although a score of years have come and gone! His outer man, gnarled, knotted as it was, Seemed to his cruel and cynical within, Hyperion to a Saturday Review!

_Cyril._ Oh, bear with him--he is an old, old man. Old men are fretful--peevish, as we know. A worm will sometimes turn--so will the milk Of human kindness, if it’s kept too long.

_Flori._ (_looking through glass_). But stay, my liege; o’er yonder mountain’s brow Comes a small body bearing Gama’s arms; And, now I look more closely at it, sir, I see attached to it King Gama’s legs; From which I gather this corollary-- That that small body must be Gama’s own!

_Hilde._ Ha! Is the Princess with him?

_Flori._ Well, my liege, Unless her ladyship is six feet high, And wears moustachios, too, and smokes cigars, And rides _en cavalier_, in coat of mail, I do not think she is.

_Hilde._ (_excited_). Come, bustle there! For Gama, place the richest robes we have! For Gama, place the coarsest prison dress! For Gama, let our best spare bed be aired! For Gama, let our deepest dungeon yawn! For Gama, lay the costliest banquet out! For Gama, place cold water and dry bread! For as King Gama brings the Princess here, Or brings her not, so shall King Gama have-- Much more than every thing--much less than nothing!

_Enter PRINCE HILARION._

_Hilar._ Well father, is there news for me, at last?

_Hilde._ My son, King Gama’s host is now in sight: Prepare to meet the fascinating bride To whom you were betrothed so long ago. Why, how you sigh!

_Hilar._ My liege, I’m much afraid The Princess Ida has not come with him.

_Hilde._ And why?

_Hilar._ I’ve heard she has forsworn the world, And, with a band of women, shut herself Within a lonely country house, and there Devotes herself to stern philosophies.

_Hilde._ Then, I should say, the loss of such a wife Is one to which a reasonable man Would easily be reconciled.

_Hilar._ Oh no-- Or I am not a reasonable man. She is my wife: has been for twenty years.

_Hilde._ That’s true--you were a baby in long clothes When you gained Ida’s heart and she gained yours.

_Hilar._ Yes--I remember--each of us was won! I think I see her now! (_looking through telescope_).

_Hilde._ Ha! let me look!

_Hilar._ In my mind’s eye, I mean--a blushing bride-- All bib and tucker--frill and furbelow! How exquisite she looked as she was borne Recumbent in the monthly nurse’s arms! How the bride wept!--nor would be comforted Until the hireling mother-for-the-nonce Administered refreshment in the vestry. And I remember feeling much annoyed That she should weep at marrying with me; “But then,” I thought, “these brides are all alike! Cry on, young lady--brides are bound to cry. You cry at marrying me? How much more cause You’d have to cry if it were broken off!” These were my thoughts--I kept them to myself, For, at that age, I had not learnt to speak.

_Hilde._ Your memory is singularly good.

_Hilar._ Do you remember, too, the wedding feast-- Rolls steeped in milk, and other softened food, Fit for our undeveloped little gums? And talk of drink, I never shall forget, How merrily we passed that nursing bottle! A curly headed patriarch of three-- The Princess Ida’s uncle--then proposed The happy couple’s health--the bridesmaids, then, Fifteen in number--each six weeks of age, Began to weep--the fifteen groomsmen, too (The eldest of them eighteen months or so), Wept also--then, remembering they were men, Dashed from their eyes the unaccustomed brine! We parted then--and since, for twenty years, We have not met. It seems quite strange that she Should have become a woman in the while! She speaks a hundred languages I’m told.

_Hilde._ Your late mamma had mastered only one, Yet she was never at a loss for words!

_Hilar._ But think how useful is a wife who can Express her fancies in a hundred tongues.

_Hilde._ You will find one, of average length, enough.

_Hilar._ I’ve heard she hopes to make all women swear That they’ll abjure, for aye, the tyrant Man! She’s far before the age in which she lives!

_Hilde._ At all events she’s singular in that; Most grown up ladies of our court give out That they are several years behind their age!

_Hilar._ A woman thus endowed should have been born A century hence, at least!

_Hilde._ The day will come When you will most devoutly wish she had.

_Enter CYRIL._

_Cyril._ My liege, King Gama’s train is at the gate, And prays admission.

_Hilde._ Cyril, show him in. Though Princess Ida wore a Gorgon’s head, He shall not tamper with King Hildebrand!

_Flourish--Procession. Enter CYRIL, FLORIAN and COURT, ushering KING GAMA, and one ATTENDANT._

_Gama._ So this is Castle Hildebrand?--well, well-- Dame Rumor whispered that the place was grand; She told me that your taste was exquisite-- Superb--unparalleled--

_Hilde._ Oh, really, king--

_Gama._ But she’s a liar! Why, how old you’ve grown! Is this Hilarion?--why you’ve changed, too! You were a singularly handsome child! (_to CYRIL_) Are you a courtier? Come, then, ply your trade! Tell me some lies: how do you like your king? Vile Rumor says he’s all but imbecile-- Now that’s not true!

_Cyril._ My lord, we love our king: His wise remarks are valued by his court As precious stones.

_Gama._ And for the self-same cause! Like precious stones the wit of Hildebrand Derives its value from its scarcity! Come now, be honest, tell the truth for once, Tell it of me! Come, come, I’ll harm you not! This leg is crooked--this foot is ill-designed-- This shoulder wears a hump--come, out with it! Look, here’s my face--now am I not the worst Of Nature’s blunders?

_Hilar._ Nature never errs. To those who know the workings of your mind, Your face and figure, sir, suggest a book Appropriately bound.

_Gama._ Why, harkye, sir! How dare you bandy words with me?

_Hilar._ No need To bandy aught that appertains to you.

_Gama._ (_to HILDEBRAND_). Do you permit this, king?

_Hilde._ We are in doubt Whether to treat you as an honored guest, Or as a traitor knave who plights his word And breaks it!

_Gama._ If the casting vote’s with me I give it for the former.

_Hilde._ We shall see: By the terms of our contract, signed and sealed You’re bound to-day to bring the Princess here To join her spouse. Why is she not with you?

_Gama._ Why? Come, I’ll tell you, if you’ll answer this: What think you of a wealthy purse-proud man Who, when he calls upon a starving friend, Pulls out his gold, and flourishes his notes, And flashes diamonds in the pauper’s eyes-- What name have you for such an one?

_Hilde._ A snob!

_Gama._ Just so: King Hildebrand, I am no snob The girl has beauty, virtue, learning, wit, Grace, humor, wisdom, charity, and pluck. Would it be kindly, think you, to parade These brilliant qualities before _your_ eyes? Oh no, King Hildebrand, I am no snob!

_Hilde._ But hang it, man, the contract that we signed Some twenty years ago--

_Gama._ Why, here’s good news! (_to Court_) At last your king is going to redeem His lengthy list of broken promises-- And very properly, as wise men should, Begin at the beginning!

_Hilde._ Stop that tongue, Or you shall lose the monkey head that holds it! Oh, I’ll be even with you, yet, for this.

_Gama._ Bravo! Your king deprives me of my head, That he and I may meet on equal terms!

_Hilde._ Of this anon--we’ll try the force of arms-- Where is she now?

_Gama._ In Castle Adamant-- One of my many country houses. There She rules a woman’s University, With full five hundred girls who learn of her.

_Cyril._ Five hundred girls! Five hundred ecstasies!

_Gama._ But no mere girls, my good young gentleman! With all the college learning that you boast, The youngest there will prove a match for you!

_Cyril._ With all my heart, if she’s the prettiest! Fancy--five hundred matches--all alight! That’s if I strike them, as I hope to do.

_Gama._ Despair your hope--their hearts are dead to man. He who desires to gain their favor must Be qualified to strike their teeming brains, And not their hearts! They’re safety-matches, sir, And they light only on the knowledge box, So _you’ve_ no chance!

_Hilar._ We’ll try, at all events. I’ll take no soldiers, father, in my train-- Cyril and Florian here will go with me, And we will storm them ere the week is out.

_Gama._ That’s brave! They’re only women--storm away!

_Hilar._ Oh, don’t mistake us, sir, we mean to storm Their eyes and hearts, and not their citadel. With sighs we’ll charge our mines and counter-mines, Dance steps shall be our scaling ladders, with Those croquêt mallets for our battering rams. Fair flowers shall bear the only blades we wield, Our eyes shall be our very deadliest darts, And bon-bon crackers our artillery!

_Gama._ And so you think to conquer them with sighs? My good young gentleman, a sigh, to them, Is simply an exceptionally marked Contraction of the intercostal muscles! Croquêt is interesting only when It illustrates familiar theories Of incidental and reflecting angles. Fair flowers, to them, are mere embodiments Of calyx, pistil, stamina, and petal. Expressive eyes would have their charm, no doubt--

_Hilar._ Of course!

_Gama._ But only, be it understood, As illustrating theories of vision! But here are letters--take them if you like-- Perhaps she’s tired of disobedience, And may admit you.

_Hilde._ Good: Hilarion, go, Take Florian and Cyril, as you say, King Gama, we detain you pris’ner here, As hostage for the safety of our son.

_Gama._ A prisoner? Why, what should I do here At Castle Hildebrand? I am not mad!

_Hilde._ You can amuse yourself by fancying That there’s an execution in our house, And you’re the party in possession--or That we are dead and you’ve succeeded us. In short, suppose whatever state of things Would offer you the greatest happiness;

_Gama._ (_to HILARION_). You run a risk, my friend; so take good heed, For no one knows her temper but myself: (_to KING_) Since her betrothal, king, until the day When she abjured all male society, I was the only man she ever saw!

_Hilar._ Oh, that explains the mystery at once, And simplifies our task--come, Florian, And we will show these maidens what they’ve lost. [_Exeunt HILARION, FLORIAN, and CYRIL._

SCENE SECOND.--_The Gates of Castle Adamant._

_Enter GOBBO, with ladies’ robes on his arm._

_Gobbo._ More robes for undergraduates! I suppose Some students are expected here to-day. No girl without a robe may pass those gates! They are so proud of these here caps and gowns, They hardly like to take ’em off a-night! They even wear (or so I’ve heard it said) Night-caps and night-gowns when they go to bed! [_Exit into porter’s lodge._

_Enter HILARION, CYRIL, and FLORIAN._

_Hilar._ So, here’s the Princess Ida’s castle? Well, They must be lovely girls if it requires Such walls as these to keep intruders off!

_Cyril._ To keep men off is only half their charge, And that the easier half. I much suspect The object of these walls is not so much To keep men off as keep the maidens in!

_Hilar._ Here lives the porter, Cyril. I’ll be bound He’s quite as learned as the rest of them, Half Newton and half Bacon! Here he comes.

_Enter GOBBO from lodge._

_Cyril._ Half Bacon? No,--all Bacon I should say!

_Gobbo._ Now then, what is it?

_Hilar._ I’m a royal prince; These gentlemen are followers of mine; We hold King Gama’s letters, charging you To bear us safely to the Council Hall, In which the Princess Ida holds her state.

_Gobbo._ Ho! ho! ho! ho!

_Hilar._ How now?--you mock at us? (_Draws sword._)

_Gobbo._ Mock you? Why, bless your heart and soul alive, No man may place his foot within those walls; It’s death to disobey our Princess, sir!

_Flori._ It’s double death to disobey your king! (_draws._)

_Cyril._ It’s treble death to disobey ourselves! (_draws._)

_Gobbo._ But, sirs, I am the only man alive Who ever enters!

_Flori._ You?

_Gobbo._ Yes! Once a year I am led through their ranks that they may see What sort of thing’s a man! “See here!” she cries. “See--this is what you lose in losing man! This is a courtly knight--well born, well formed!” (I’m comely, sirs; but, bless you, I’m no knight!) “Look, girls,” she cries, “this is a courtly knight-- A type of all that’s beautiful in man!” (_aloud_) And then they make me gibber, squeak, and mow; Then, with much deference and mock courtesy, They bow me to my duty at the gate!

_Flor._ Are there no males whatever in those walls?

_Gobbo._ None, gentlemen, excepting letter mails! And they are driven (as males often are In other large communities)--by women! If you’ll believe me, gentlemen, I swear, She’s so confoundedly particular, She’ll scarcely suffer Dr. Watts’s hymns; And all the animals she owns are “hers”! The ladies rise at cockcrow every morn--

_Hilar._ Oh, then they have male poultry!

_Gobbo._ Not at all. (_confidentially._) The crowing’s done by an accomplished hen!

_Cyril._ And what are these? (_Looking at robes in lodge._)

_Gobbo._ The academic robes, Worn by the lady undergraduates When they matriculate.

_Hilar._ I’ll try one on. (_Does so._) Why, see--I’m covered to the very toes! Ha! I’ve a proposition!

_Flori._ State it then.

_Hilar._ Suppose we dress ourselves as girls, and claim Admission to this University? It is a thing we’ve often done at home In amateur theatricals. You know How well I play viragos in burlesque!

_Flori._ My Cleopatra, too--remember that!

_Cyril._ My Mrs. Bouncer, too, in ‘Box and Cox’!

_Hilar._ Wilt play the woman, then?

_Cyril._ Of course! What knight Would hesitate to “take a woman’s part”?

_Quartette.--HILARION, CYRIL, FLORIAN, and GOBBO, as they dress themselves in women’s clothes._

“_Les Trois Cousines_” (_La Perichole_).

_Flori._ If we are hailed with any query, Say we are nice young ladies, three; Who of the world terribly weary, Enter a University. Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha!

_All._ Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Cyril._ We will declare to them that lately, We have been bored with suitors stately, And we prefer young ladies greatly-- Sorry to say that that’s too true!

_All._ Sorry to say that that’s too true!

_Hilar._ We must take care when we are talking, Never our manly tastes to show; Hold up our dresses thus in walking, Showing an inch of ankle--so!

_All._ Showing an inch of ankle--so! Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha! Such lovely girls, ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Gobbo._ (_in terror_). But, gentlemen, observe--if you do this, What’s to become of me?

_Hilar._ I do not know What will become of you if we do this; But I can read the fate in store for you If you presume to interfere with us. Now, porter, say to whom we should apply To gain admission.

_Gobbo._ (_in tears_). Why, to Lady Blanche Or Lady Psyche.

_Flori._ Which is prettier?

_Gobbo._ Well, _I_ like Lady Blanche by far the best.

_Flori._ Then we declare for Lady Blanche at once.

_Gobbo._ You see, she’s more my age--the other one Is young and pretty! (_contemptuously_).

_Cyril._ Bah! Then I retract; We will be Psyche’s interesting charge! So go and summon her. (_GOBBO rings and then exit._)

_Flori._ But stop a bit, What will your father think of such a scheme?

_Cyril._ Oh, he be--dashed!

_Hilar._ Extremely shocked I am!

_Cyril._ I meant my sire--

_Hilar._ I thought you meant your “dam”!

_Enter LADY PSYCHE from gate, attended._

_Psyche._ Who summons us?

_Hilar._ Three would-be students, ma’am-- Three noble ladies, ma’am, of good estate, Who wish to join this University (_they courtesy_).

_Psyche._ If, as you say, you wish to join our ranks, And will conform with all our rules, ’tis well; But understand--you must adapt yourselves To all the regulations now in force, In Princess Ida’s University.

_Hilar._ To all its rules, we cheerfully subscribe.

_Flori._ (_aside to HILARION_). Here’s a catastrophe, Hilarion! This is my sister! She’ll remember me, Though years have passed since she and I have met!

_Hilar._ No matter, hide your face--she’ll know you not.

_Psyche._ You say you’re noblewomen--well, you’ll find No sham degrees for noblewomen, here-- Or other cruel contrivances to draw An arbitrary line ’twixt rich and poor, No butteries, or other institutes, To make poor students feed rich cooks--no tufts To mark nobility; except such tufts As indicate nobility of brain. As to your fellow-students, mark me well-- There are five hundred maidens in these walls All good, all learned, and all beautiful. You must select your intimates from these; They are prepared to love you; will you swear You’ll do your best to love them in return?

_Flori._ Upon our words and honors, ma’am, we will!

_Psyche._ And will you swear that if, by any chance, You’re thrown into a man’s society, You’ll not allow your thoughts to stray from us, But, at the earliest opportunity, You’ll give up his society for ours?

_Cyril._ All this, dear madam, cheerfully we swear.

_Psyche._ But we go further: will you undertake That you will never marry any man?

_Flori._ Indeed we never will!

_Psyche._ Consider well,-- You must prefer our maids to all mankind!

_Hilar._ To all mankind we much prefer your maids!

_Cyril._ We should be dolts, indeed, if we did not, Seeing how fair--

_Hilar._ (_aside to CYRIL_). Take care, that’s rather strong! (_aloud_) We have seen men of wealth--ay, princes too-- Whose beauty has been so remarkable, That half the maidens in our monarch’s court Have pined away and died for love of them! These men--Apollos in their manly grace, Indeed in every thing (except in that They wore a proper quantity of clothes)-- We think of with profound indifference, But, when we see a woman who excels In virtue, scholarship, and loveliness, We long to lay our heads upon her breast, And join our lives with hers!

_Psyche._ Why, that’s well said. But have you left no lovers at your home, Who may pursue you here?

_Hilar._ No, madam, none-- We’re homely ladies, as no doubt you see, And we have never fished for lover’s love-- We smile at girls who deck themselves with gems, False hair, and meretricious ornaments, To chain the fleeting fancy of a man; But do not imitate them. What we have Of hair is all our own--our color, too, Unladylike, but not unwomanly, Is but the glow of rugged, boisterous health; Our gait, untrammeled by the influence Of high heeled boots, small waists, and Grecian bends, May seem undignified--but then we walk As Nature meant us to--and man has learnt To reckon Nature an impertinence!

_Psyche._ I know how coldly men regard a girl, Whose beauty is her poorest excellence; But beauty goes for nothing in these walls. You’ll find yourselves appreciated here: If what you say is true, you’ll spend with us A happy, happy time!

_Cyril._ If, as you say, Five hundred lovely maidens wait within To welcome us with smiles and open arms, I think there’s very little doubt we shall! [_Exeunt into Castle._

_Scene Third._--_Grounds of Castle Adamant; Waterfall and Stream, crossed by rustic bridge; GIRL-STUDENTS discovered grouped about the stage, occupied with philosophical instruments, &c._

_Ada._ I shall be quite alone, dear, in my rooms, So come and spend a long, long evening--do! And bring your steam-engine!

_Chloe._ Oh, that I will! And you shall show me all your nice new things-- That quadrant--and the anemometer; And oh, that darling, darling dumpy-level I’ve heard so much about!

_Lydia._ My love, I see You’ve got another new theodolite. (_aside to CHLOE_) That’s the fifteenth this month! The one I use Went out of fashion half a year ago! Oh, I’ve a bit of scandal! What d’you think? Melissa found a _billet-doux_, concealed In that Egyptian mummy we unrolled Last night. Just think of that!

_Enter MELISSA, from, bridge, running._

_Melissa._ I say, my dear, I have such news for you! I’ve just been shown The robe for doctors of divinity. Oh, it’s the sweetest thing!--Magenta silk, Trimmed with chinchilla, _bouillonné_ behind, Gored to the figure though; and on the skirt, Two rows of Cluny lace as deep as that!

_Chloe._ Oh my! how lovely!

_Melissa._ Then the trencher cap Is amber satin, trimmed with Cluny lace And rows of pearls; and round the outer edge The tiniest, tiniest rosebuds in the world!

_Ada._ (_to CHLOE_). It’s much more lovely than the legal gown-- Green grenadine, with rûchings down the front, That we shall wear.

_Chloe._ (_pouting_). I shall give up the law And go into the church! I’ve always felt A serious longing for a pastor’s life; Besides, I’m dark, and look a fright in green!

_Sacha._ Take care, here’s Lady Blanche. How stern she looks!

_Enter LADY BLANCHE, L., GIRLS study vigorously._

_Blanche._ Attention, ladies, while I read to you The Princess Ida’s list of punishments: The first is Sacharissa. She’s expelled.

_All._ Expelled!

_Blanche._ Expelled--because, although she knew No man of any kind may see these halls, She dared to bring a set of chessmen here!

_Sacha._ (_in tears_). I meant no harm--they’re only men of wood!

_Blanche._ They’re men with whom you give each other mate-- And that’s enough! The next is Sylvia--

_Sylvia._ Oh!

_Blanche._ Sylvia is rusticated for a month Because, in spite of all our college rules Upon the point, she dared to put three rows Of lace insertion round her graduate’s gown! Phyllis will lose three terms, for yesterday, When, looking through her drawing book, I found A sketch of a perambulator!

_All._ (_shocked_). Oh!

_Blanche._ _Double_ perambulator, shameless girl! That’s all at present. Now, attention please, Your principal, the Princess, comes to give Her usual inaugural address, To those young ladies who joined yesterday.

(_March.--Enter the PRINCESS, over bridge, attended by eight “daughters of the plow.” All courtesy profoundly._)

_Princess._ Women of Adamant--fair neophytes, Who pant for the instruction we can give, Attend, while I unfold a parable: The elephant is stronger than the man, Yet man subdues him. Why? The elephant Is elephantine everywhere but here (_tapping forehead_), And Man, who’s brain is to the elephant’s As Woman’s brain to Man’s--that’s rule of three-- Conquers the foolish giant of the woods, As Woman, in her turn, shall conquer Man. In mathematics Woman leads the way! The narrow-minded pedant still believes That two and two make four! Why, we can prove-- We women, household drudges as we are-- That two and two make five--or three--or seven-- Or five-and-twenty, as the case demands! Finance? Why, I’ve heard clever men declare, Their bankers’ balance being overdrawn, They don’t know where to turn for ready cash, Yet willfully ignoring all the while That remedy unfailing--draw a check! Diplomacy? The wily diplomate Is absolutely helpless in our hands: He wheedles monarchs--Woman wheedles him! Logic? Why, tyrant man himself admits It’s waste of time to argue with a woman! Then we excel in social qualities-- Though man professes that he holds our sex In utter scorn, I’ll undertake to say If you could read the secrets of his heart, He’d rather be alone with one of you Than with five hundred of his fellow-men! In all things we excel. Believing this, Five hundred maidens here have sworn to place Their foot upon his neck. If we succeed, We’ll treat him better than he treated us, But if we fail--oh then let hope fail too! Let no one care one penny how she looks! Let red be worn with yellow--blue with green, Crimson with scarlet--violet with blue! Let all your things misfit, and you yourselves At inconvenient moments come undone! Let hair-pins lose their virtue; let the hook Disdain the fascination of the eye,-- The bashful button modestly evade The soft embraces of the button hole! Let old associations all dissolve, Let Swan secede from Edgar--Grant from Gask, Sewell from Cross--Lewis from Allenby-- In other words, let Chaos come again! Who lectures in the Upper Hall to-day?

_Blanche._ I, madam, on Abstract Philosophy. There, I propose considering at length Three points--the Is, the Might Be, and the Must. Whether the Is, from being actual fact, Is more important than the vague Might Be, Or the Might Be, from taking wider scope, Is, for that reason, greater than the Is, And lastly, how the Is and Might Be stand Compared with the inevitable Must.

_Prin._ The subject’s deep--how do you treat it, pray?

_Blanche._ Madam, I take three Possibilities, And strike a balance then between the three, As thus--the Princess Ida Is our head-- The Lady Psyche Might Be--Lady Blanche-- Neglected Blanche--inevitably Must. Given these three hypotheses--to find The actual betting against each of them! Come, girls! [_Exeunt LADY BLANCHE and STUDENTS._

_Prin._ (_looking after her_). Ambitious fool. And do you think you can Provide this college with a head. Go, go! Provide yourself with one--you want it more!

_Enter LADY PSYCHE, over bridge, conducting HILARION, FLORIAN, and CYRIL._

_Lady P._ Here is the Princess Ida’s favorite grove, And here’s the Princess. (_To PRINCESS._) These are ladies three Who join our College.

_Hilar._ (_aside to CYRIL_). Gods! how beautiful!

_Prin._ What special study do you seek, my friend?

_Hilar._ (_enraptured_). Madam, I come that I may learn to live, For, if I come not here, I die!

_Prin._ (_laughing_). Indeed? Your case is desperate! We welcome you. We meet at luncheon--until then, farewell! [_Exit PRINCESS._

_Flori._ (_aside to HILARION_). When Psyche sees my face, I’m confident She’ll recognize her brother Florian. Let’s make a virtue of necessity, And trust our secret to her gentle care. (_HILARION assents._) (_aloud_) Psyche! Why don’t you know me--Florian? (_PSYCHE amazed._)

_Psyche._ Why, Florian!

_Flori._ My sister!

_Psyche._ Oh, my dear, What are you doing here--and who are these?

_Hilar._ I am that Prince Hilarion to whom Your Princess is betrothed--I come to claim Her promised love--your brother Florian, here, And Cyril--come to see me safely through.

_Psyche._ The Prince Hilarion!--Cyril too! How strange! My earliest playfellows!

_Hilar._ (_astonished_). Why let me look! Are you that learned little Psyche who At school alarmed her mates because she called A buttercup “ranunculus bulbosus”?

_Cyril._ Are you indeed that Lady Psyche, who At children’s parties drove the conjurer wild, Explaining all his tricks before he did them?

_Hilar._ Are you that learned little Psyche, who At dinner parties brought into dessert Would tackle visitors with “you don’t know Who first determined longitude--I do-- Hipparchus ’twas, B.C. one sixty three!” Are you indeed that little Psyche then?

_Psyche._ That small phenomenon in truth am I! But gentlemen, ’tis death to enter here-- My vow will make me speak. What shall I do? This palace is a rat trap--we the bait-- And you the foolish victims!

_Cyril._ Be it so-- A prisoned rat, before he dies the death, Has liberty to nibble at the bait! (_kisses her_).

_Psyche._ Forbear, sir--pray--you know not what you do! We have all promised to renounce mankind.

_Hilar._ But on what grounds do you, fair Psyche, base This senseless resolution?

_Psyche._ Senseless? No! It’s based upon the grand hypothesis That as the Ape is undeveloped Man, So Man is undeveloped Woman.

_Hilar._ Then, This, of all others, is the place for us!

_Enter MELISSA unperceived, at back; she listens in astonishment._

If Man is only undeveloped Woman, We men, if we work very hard indeed, And do our utmost to improve ourselves-- May in good time _be_ women! Though I own Up to this point (as far as I’m aware) The metamorphosis has not commenced.

_Melissa._ (_coming down_). Oh, Lady Psyche!--

_Psyche._ (_startled_). What--you heard us, then? Oh, all is lost!

_Melissa._ Not so; I’ll breathe no word. (_Advancing in astonishment to FLORIAN._) How marvelously strange! And are you then, Indeed, young men?

_Flori._ Well, yes--just now we are; But hope, by dint of study, to become, In course of time, young women!

_Melissa._ (_eagerly_). No! no! no! Oh, don’t do that! Is this indeed a man? I’ve often heard of them, but till this day Never set eyes on one. They told me men Were hideous, idiotic, and deformed! They’re quite as beautiful as women are! (_patting FLORIAN’S cheek_) Their cheeks have not that pulpy softness which One gets so weary of in womankind! Their features are more marked,--and oh! their chins (_feeling his chin_) How curious!

_Flori._ I fear it’s rather rough.

Melissa. Oh, don’t apologize--I like it so! But I forgot; my mother, Lady Blanche, Is coming--and her eyes are very keen-- She will detect you, sir!

_Hilar._ Oh, never fear! We saw her ladyship an hour ago; She seemed to have suspicions of our sex, And showed us robes, and gave us needlework, As though to test us. Well, we did the work Like seamstresses--and named the various stuffs, As if we’d spent a full apprenticeship At Swan and Edgar’s!

_Enter LADY BLANCHE. Exeunt the three GENTLEMEN with LADY PSYCHE._

_Blanche._ (_aside to MELISSA_). Here, Melissa--hush! Those are the three new students?

_Melissa._ (_confused_). Yes, they are-- They’re charming girls!

_Blanche._ (_sarcastically_). Particularly so! So graceful, and so very womanly; So skilled in all a girl’s accomplishments!

_Melissa._ (_confused_). Yes very skilled!

_Blanche._ You stupid little fool! Awhile ago, I placed before their eyes, Some Cluny lace--_they called it Valenciennes_-- Hemming is stitching--so at least they say-- A gusset is a gore--a tuck’s a flounce-- Merino’s cotton--linen’s calico-- Poplin is silk, and rep is corduroy! I bade them hem a pocket handkerchief-- _They placed their thimbles on their forefingers!_ And set about their work as clumsily As if they had been men, in girls’ disguise!

_Melissa._ (_trembling_). You surely wrong them, Mother dear, for see-- (_picking up a case from floor_) Here is an _étui_ dropped by one of them-- Containing scissors, needles, and--

_Blanche._ (_taking it from her, and opening it_). Cigars!!! Why these _are_ men! And you knew this, you cat!

_Melissa._ Oh, spare them--they _are_ gentlemen, indeed, The Prince Hilarion--betrothed long since To Princess Ida--with two trusted friends! Consider, Mother, he’s her husband now! And has been, twenty years! Consider, too, (_insidiously_) You’re only second here--you should be first-- Assist the Prince’s plan, and when he gains The Princess Ida’s hand, you _will_ be first! You will design the fashions--think of that! And always serve out all the punishments! The scheme is harmless, Mother--wink at it!

_Blanche._ The prospect’s tempting! Well, well, well, I’ll try-- Though I’ve not winked at any thing for years! ’Tis but one step towards my destiny-- The mighty Must! Inevitable Shall! [_Exit LADY BLANCHE._

_Melissa._ Saved for a while, at least!

_Enter FLORIAN._

_Flori._ Melissa here?

_Melissa._ Oh, sir, you must away from this at once, My mother guessed your sex--it was my fault, I blushed and stammered so, that she exclaimed: “Can these be men” (then seeing this) “Why these--” “_Are men!_” she would have added, but “_are men_” Stuck in her throat! She keeps your secret, sir, For reasons of her own; but fly from this, And take me with you--that is--no, not that!

_Flori._ I’ll go--but not without you. (_Bell._) Why, what’s that?

_Melissa._ The luncheon bell.

_Flori._ I’ll wait for luncheon, then. See, here’s Hilarion with the stern Princess, And Cyril with my sister Psyche, too.

_Enter CYRIL with PSYCHE, and HILARION with PRINCESS, LADY BLANCHE, also all the other GIRLS, over bridge, bearing luncheon, which is spread. They all sit down and eat, CYRIL drinking freely._

_Prin._ You say you know the Court of Hildebrand? There is a prince there--I forget his name.

_Hilar._ Hilarion?

_Prin._ Exactly. Is he well?

_Hilar._ If it is well to droop and pine and mope-- To sigh, “Oh, Ida! Ida!” all day long-- “Ida! my love! my life! Oh, come to me!”-- If it is well, I say, to do all this, Then Prince Hilarion is very well.

_Prin._ He breathes _our_ name? Well, it’s a common one! And is the booby comely?

_Hilar._ Pretty well. I’ve heard it said that if I dressed myself In Prince Hilarion’s clothes (supposing this Consorted with my maiden modesty), I might be taken for Hilarion’s self. But what is this to you or me, who think Of all mankind with unconcealed contempt?

_Prin._ Contempt? Why, damsel, when I think of man, Contempt is not the word!

_Cyril._ (_getting tipsy_). I’m sure of that; Or, if it is, it surely should not be!

_Hilar._ (_to CYRIL_). Be quiet, idiot, or they’ll find us out!

_Cyril._ The Prince Hilarion’s a goodly lad!

_Prin._ _You_ know him, then?

_Cyril._ I rather think I do! We were inseparables.

_Prin._ Why, what’s this? You loved him then? (_horrified_).

_Cyril._ We did--and do--all three! And he loves us sincerely in return!

_Hilar._ (_confused_). Madam, she jests-- (_aside to CYRIL._) Remember where you are!

_Cyril._ Jests? Not at all--why, bless my heart alive, You and Hilarion, when at the Court, Rode the same horse!

_Prin._ Astride?

_Cyril._ Of course--why not? Wore the same clothes--and once or twice, I think Got tipsy in the same good company!

_Prin._ Well, these are nice young ladies, on my word--

_Cyril._ (_to FLORIAN_). Don’t you remember that old laughing song, That he and we would troll in unison, At the Three Pigeons--just when daylight broke? I’ll give it you!

_Song, CYRIL, Air--Laughing Song from “Manon Lescaut.”_

A young and earnest reader, Once with a special pleader, Was reading for the bar, Ha! ha! ha! ha! A budding luminary, Particularly wary, As lovers often are, Ha! ha! ha! ha! He met a lady bright, ha! ha! ’Twas very late at night, ha! ha! There shone no moon nor star, Ha! ha! ha! ha! Her head lay on his shoulder, And what d’you think he told her?-- You’ll never guess, I know. I scarcely like to tell you, For fear it should repel you-- Come, whisper, whisper low! No! no! no! no! no! no! no! no! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

They threaded many mazes, Of buttercups and daisies, They wandered very far, Ha! ha! ha! ha! So amiable he found her, He put his arms around her, And she opposed no bar, Ha! ha! ha! ha! He squeezed her little fin, ha! ha! He chucked her little chin, ha! ha! And christened her his star, Ha! ha! ha! ha! Her head lay on his shoulder, And what d’you think he told her? You’ll never guess, I know-- I’ll hazard it and tell you, Although it may repel you-- Come, whisper, whisper low! No! no! no! no! no! no! no! no! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! (_After song he lights a cigarette._)

_Prin._ Infamous creature--get you hence away!

_Hilar._ Dog! Here is something more to sing about! (_Strikes him._)

_Cyril._ (_sobered_). Hilarion--are you mad?

_Prin._ (_astonished_). Hilarion? Help! Why these are men! Lost! Lost! betrayed! undone! (_running on to bridge_). Girls, get you hence--man-monsters, if you dare Approach one step--I--ah! (_loses balance and falls._)

_Psyche._ Oh! save her, sir!

_Blanche._ It’s useless, sir, you’ll only catch your death. (_HILARION springs in._)

_Sacha._ He catches her--

_Melissa._ And now he lets her go-- Again she’s in his grasp--

_Psyche._ And now she’s not! He seizes her back hair--

_Blanche._ And it comes off!

_Psyche._ No--no--she’s saved! She’s saved! She’s saved! She’s saved!

(_HILARION is seen swimming with the PRINCESS in one arm--he swims to a bank and the PRINCESS and he are brought to land._)

_Prin._ You’ve saved our lives and so have saved your own, But leave this palace--men in women’s clothes!

_Enter LYDIA, running._

Why, what’s the matter now?

_Lydia._ King Hildebrand, Holding your father captive, sends to say That if Hilarion suffers any harm, Your father’s life will pay the penalty, Moreover--if you do not yield yourself, According to the tenor of your oath, He will attack you ere to-morrow’s dawn-- And force compliance!

_Prin._ Will he so, indeed? We’ll teach these men a lesson. (_To HILARION._) Get you gone! You saved our lives--we thank you for it--go! Arm, Amazons! We’ll show these gentlemen, How nobly Woman vindicates her claim To equal individuality! Arm! Arm! This is our opportunity.

_The three GENTLEMEN are thrust forth by the AMAZONS. Tableau._

SCENE FOURTH.--_Hildebrand’s Camp before Ida’s Castle._

_Enter HILDEBRAND and GAMA._

_Hilde._ The Princess Ida still holds out, although Our camp is fairly pitched before her walls. King Gama, if Hilarion comes not back All safe and sound, you’ll surely suffer death! Your head for his!

_Gama._ The stakes are poorly matched: It’s Lombard Street against a China orange!

_Hilde._ In the mean time, pray make yourself at home, Direct my army as it were your own. On every matter that concerns the state, Your orders give;--they will not be obeyed, But that don’t matter!

_Gama._ Don’t it?

_Hilde._ Not a jot! The ecstasy of absolute command Is seriously dashed when you reflect, That for all consequences that ensue, You by the world are held responsible! But here, where all are bound to hear your word With every outward token of respect, They systematically disobey it, Your power of high command is just as great, The consequences absolutely _nil_.

_Enter ATHO._

_Atho._ My liege, three gentlemen await without, Attended by a troop of soldiery. (_Gives note_).

_Gama._ (_reads_). “The Princes Arac, Guron, Scynthius, King Gama’s sons, desire that you will set Their father free.” (_To ATHO._) Admit these gentlemen. [_Exit ATHO._ My sons! That’s brave!

_Enter ARAC, SCYNTHIUS, and GURON._

_Hilde._ What would you, gentlemen?

_Arac._ What would we? Why look you, King Hildebrand-- You hold our father in unkingly bonds, Our sister you beleaguer in her home, You threaten to lay waste our richest lands, And then you coolly ask us, “What would we?”

_Guron._ We come to claim our father at your hands.

_Scynthius._ We come to save our sister Ida from The rude assault of savage soldiery. Why they are girls--mere girls--and should be stormed As other girls are stormed, if stormed at all!

_Hilde._ As other girls are stormed so shall they be; We’ll use no cannon, bayonet, or sword, For such ungentlemanly arguments-- Convincing though they be--would but convince These women ’gainst their will! We’ll witch them forth With love songs, odes, and idle fripperies, Such as a woman can not long withstand. Stay, you shall see--

_Enter ATHO._

_Atho._ All is prepared, my liege To storm the walls--

_Hilde._ Then let the siege commence!

_Enter FIRST OFFICER._

Who leads the serenading party, eh?

_First Officer._ Sir Michael Costa--

_Hilde._ Good! the light guitars Fall in at six--the King’s own baritones, Led by Sir Santley--

_First Officer._ He’s not knighted, sir!

_Hilde._ He shall be, then--they will parade at five. [_Exit FIRST OFFICER._

_Enter SECOND OFFICER._

_Second Officer._ Who leads the scaling party, sir?

_Hilde._ Of course The first light tenors--they can highest go. [_Exit SECOND OFFICER._

_Atho._ And who shall first climb up the outer wall, And reconnoiter what goes on within?

_Hilde._ Some tenor, fool, who can “go up to see!” [_Exit ATHO._ Let all be furnished with their photographs, And scatter them among these amazons. Bid the director of the poets direct And post five hundred valentines, and see They get them by to-night’s delivery. Go, tell the gallant lady, who commands The horse brigade of royal milliners, To place five hundred toilet tables out Within full view of Princess Ida’s walls. Upon them place five hundred mirrors--then Lay out five hundred robes of French design; And if they still hold out they’re more than women! [_Exeunt OFFICERS, GAMA, ARAC, SCYNTHIUS, and GURON._

_King._ If all this fails, I have a deadlier scheme, Five hundred waltzing bachelors--tried men, Who can waltz forwards--backwards--anyhow-- Shall twirl and twist before their dazzled eyes, Thrumming soft music on a light guitar.

_Song--KING HILDEBRAND, Air, “Largo al Factotum.”_

Like a teetotum with a guitar-- Just so! La, la, la, la! Bachelors spin at ’em thus from afar-- Just so! La, la, la, la! Oh, tickle their vanity; Oh, never be chary, Oh, flatter your fairy, Ever unwary, Tickle it, ah! Bravo bravissimo, Generalissimo. Serve her it, ah! Flatter her beauty, With an acute eye, Say it’s your duty, Call her a star! Sneer at another, Coddle her mother, Butter her brother, Ever so far! La, la, la, la! Load her with frippery, Glovery, slippery, Cleverly planned, no going too far! Marabout feather, Gossamer airy, Fastened together, Give to your fairy. La, la, la, la! Oh, tickle her vanity, Oh, never be chary, Oh, flatter your fairy, Ever unwary, Tickle it, ah! Marry her merrily, Change it all, verily; Snapping and wrangling, Jingling and jangling, Snarling and snapping, Rubbing and rapping. “Why are you mum to me? “Why don’t you come to me? “Why are you mum to me? “Why don’t you come to me? “Quicker, oh! quicker, oh! quicker, oh!” My goodness! my gracious! A row, sir! Pucker your brow, sir, Pucker it, ah! Pucker it, ah! Lick her, oh, no more! Quicker, oh, “The door!” Set it ajar! Light a cigar! Set it ajar! Light a cigar! Give her a sou! Bid her adoo! Give her a sou! Bid her adoo! Bravo bravissimo, Finish your capering. Like a teetotum With a guitar! With a guitar! With a guitar! Bravo bravissimo, Generalissimo! Take her and marry her, Worry her, harry her; Oh, you may carry her Ever so far! Just like a teetotum With a guitar!

_Enter ATHO._

_Atho._ My liege, I bring good news, your plan succeeds. Three ladies of the Princess Ida’s band Are coming towards your camp.

_Hilde._ The mirrors did it! Admit them.

_Enter HILARION, CYRIL and FLORIAN, still in women’s clothes._

Why--Hilarion! Cyril too! And Florian! dressed as women. Ho! ho! ho! (_all jeer them_).

_Hilar._ We gained admission to fair Ida’s halls, By this disguise--We were detected though, And should have suffered death, but that she knew, In killing us, she killed her father too!

_Gama._ (_in high glee_). Here, set me free! Hilarion safe again-- Is this indeed Hilarion?

_Hilar._ Yes it is--

_Gama._ Why you look handsome in your women’s clothes, Stick to ’em--man’s attire becomes you not! (_to FLORIAN and CYRIL_) And you, young ladies, will you please to pray, King Hildebrand to set me free again? Hang on his neck and gaze into his eyes, Bring all your woman’s wiles to bear on him. He never could resist a pretty face!

_Cyril._ You dog! Though I wear woman’s garb, you’ll find My sword is long and sharp.

_Gama._ Hush, pretty one! Here’s a virago! Here’s a termagant! If length and sharpness go for any thing, You’ll want no sword while you can wag your tongue.

_Flori._ What need to talk of swords to such as he? He’s old and crippled--(_to GAMA_) Oh, if you were young, And tolerably straight--and I could catch You all alone, I’d--Ah!

_Gama._ (_bashfully_). Oh, go along, You naughty girl--why, I’m a married man! But I’ve three sons--see, ladies--here they are-- Fine fellows--young and muscular and brave. They’ll meet you, if you will. Come, what d’ye say?

_Arac._ Ay, pretty ones, engage yourselves with us, If three rude warriors who have spent their lives Hacking at enemies, affright you not!

_Hilar._ (_to GAMA_). Old as you are, I’d wring your shriveled neck If you were not the Princess Ida’s father!

_Gama._ If I were not the Princess Ida’s father, And so had not her brothers for my sons, No doubt you’d wring my neck--in safety too!

_Hilar._ Enough! I speak for Florian and Cyril. Arac, we take your challenge--three to three-- So that it’s understood that Ida’s hand Depends upon the issue.

_Arac._ There’s my hand; If she consents not--sister though she be We’ll raze her castle to the very ground! [_Exeunt._

SCENE FIFTH.--_Inner Gate of Castle Adamant._

_All the LADY STUDENTS discovered--the eight SERVANTS as Amazons--the others all around. Flourish--Enter PRINCESS IDA, followed by LADY BLANCHE._

_Prin._ Is all prepared for war? We have to meet Stern bearded warriors in fight to-day. Wear naught but what is necessary to Preserve your dignity before their eyes, And give your limbs full play.

_Blanche._ One moment, ma’am, Here is a paradox we should not pass Without inquiry. We are prone to say, “This thing is Needful--that Superfluous”-- Yet they invariably co-exist! We find the Needful comprehended in The circle of the grand Superfluous; While the Superfluous can not be bought Unless you’re amply furnished with the Needful. These singular considerations are--

_Prin._ Superfluous, yet not Needful--so, you see, These terms may independently exist. Women of Adamant, we have to show These men how they have under-rated us. Now is the time to prove our titles to The highest honors they monopolize. Now is the time to prove our theory That woman, educated to the work, Can meet man face to face on his own ground, And beat him there. Now let us set to work! Where is our lady surgeon?

_Sacha._ Madam, here!

_Prin._ We shall require your skill to heal the wounds Of those that fall.

_Sacha._ What! heal the wounded?

_Prin._ Yes!

_Sacha._ And cut off real live legs and arms?

_Prin._ Of course!

_Sacha._ I wouldn’t do it for a thousand pounds!

_Prin._ Why, how is this? Are you faint-hearted, girl? You’ve often cut them off in theory.

_Sacha._ In theory I’ll cut them off again With pleasure, and as often as you like-- But not in practice!

_Prin._ Coward, get you hence! I’ve craft enough for that, and courage too. I’ll do your work! My Amazons, advance! Why, you are armed with spears--mere gilded toys! Where are your muskets, pray?

_Ada._ Why, please you, ma’am, We left them in the armory, for fear That, in the heat and turmoil of the fight, They might go off.

_Prin._ “They might!” Oh, craven souls, Go off yourselves! Thank heaven, I have a heart That quails not at the thought of meeting men. _I_ will discharge your muskets. Off with you! Where’s my bandmistress?

_Chloe._ Please you, ma’am, the band Do not feel well, and can’t come out to-day!

_Prin._ Why, this is flat rebellion! I’ve no time To talk to them just now! But happily I can play several instruments at once, And I will drown the shrieks of those that fall With trumpet music such as soldiers love. How stand we with respect to gunpowder? My Lady Psyche--you who superintend The lab’ratory, where your class compounds That hideous chemical--are you prepared To blow these bearded rascals into shreds?

_Psyche._ Why, madam--

_Prin._ Well?

_Psyche._ Let us try gentler means-- Treat them with the contempt that they deserve. We can dispense with fulminating grains While we have eyes with which to flash our rage. We can dispense with villainous saltpeter, While we have tongues with which to blow them up. We can dispense, in short, with all the arts That brutalize the practical polemist.

_Prin._ (_contemptuously_). I never knew a more dispensing chemist! Away! away! I’ll meet these men alone, For all my women have deserted me!

_Enter MELISSA._

_Melissa._ Madam, your brothers crave an audience.

_Prin._ My brothers? Why, what do they here?

_Melissa._ They come To fight for you.

_Prin._ Admit them!

_Blanche._ Infamous! One’s brothers, ma’am, are men!

_Prin._ So I have heard; But all my women seem to fail me when I need them most: in this perplexity Even one’s brothers may be turned to use.

_Enter ARAC, GURON, and SCYNTHIUS._

_Arac._ My sisters!

_Prin._ Arac, Guron, Scynthius, too! (_they embrace._)

_Arac._ We have arranged that Prince Hilarion And his two followers shall fight us here; And if we fall, we’ve promised him your hand.

_Prin._ (_sighing_). So be it, Arac; brothers though you be, With all your faults you’re brave, as brutes are brave. So be it--fight them here, but (_aside and bashfully_) oh, my brother, Kill whom you will, but spare Hilarion! He saved my life!

_Melissa._ (_aside to ARAC_). Oh, save me Florian, He is her brother! (_indicating PSYCHE._)

_Psyche._ (_aside to ARAC_). Oh, spare Cyril, sir, You’ve no idea what jolly songs he sings!

_Arac._ Bah! I can spare them all--I want them not! But here they come, stand back, the lists prepare-- Get you within those walls, poor trembling ones, And see that no one interferes with us.

_Enter HILARION, CYRIL, and FLORIAN, with KINGS GAMA and HILDEBRAND--PRINCESS and LADIES retire within outer wall, and group themselves on battlements._

_Gama._ Come boys, we’ve all prepared, begin! begin! Why you lack mettle!--Gad, I’ll spur you up! (_To ARAC_) Look, Arac--there’s the son of that vile king, Who, when he held me as his prisoner, Tormented me with tortures worse than death. _I hadn’t any thing to grumble at!_ He found out what particular meats I loved, And gave me them--the very choicest wine-- The costliest robes--the richest rooms were mine. He suffered none to thwart my simplest plan, And gave strict orders none should contradict me. _He made my life a curse!_ Go in at them! Avenge your father’s wrongs! (_To HILARION_) And as for you-- (_pointing to his sons_) Here are three princes, sirs, who stand between You and your happiness--so cut them down! Give them no mercy, they will give you none. Come, Prince Hilarion, begin, begin! You’ve this advantage over warriors Who kill their country’s enemies for pay, You know what you are fighting for--look there! (_pointing to LADIES on battlements._)

_Hilar._ Come on!

_Arac._ Come on!

_Cyril._ Come on!

_Scyn._ Come on!

_Flori._ Come on!

(_Desperate fight--at the end, HILARION, CYRIL, and FLORIAN wound ARAC, GURON, and SCYNTHIUS._)

_Prin._ (_entering through gate_). Hold! stay your hands!--we yield ourselves to you. Ladies, my brothers all lie bleeding there! Bind up their wounds--but look the other way. Is this the end? How say you, Lady Blanche-- Can I with dignity my post resign? And if I do, will you then take my place?

_Blanche._ To answer this, it’s meet that we consult The great Potential Mysteries; I mean The five Subjunctive Possibilities-- The May, the Might, the Would, the Could, the Should. Can you resign? The prince Might claim you; if He Might, you Could--and if you Should, I Would!

_Prin._ I thought as much. Then to my fate I yield-- So ends my cherished scheme! Oh, I had hoped To band all women with my maiden throng, And make them all abjure tyrannic Man!

_Hilde._ A noble aim!

_Prin._ You ridicule it now; But if I carried out this glorious scheme, At my exalted name Posterity Would bow in gratitude!

_Hilde._ But pray reflect-- If you enlist all women in your cause, And make them all abjure tyrannic Man, The obvious question then arises, “How Is this Posterity to be provided?”

_Prin._ I never thought of that! My Lady Blanche, How do you solve the riddle?

_Blanche._ Don’t ask me-- Abstract Philosophy won’t answer it. Take him--he is your Shall. Give in to Fate!

_Prin._ And _you_ desert me? I alone am stanch!

_Hilar._ Madam, you placed your trust in woman--well, Woman has failed you utterly--try man, Give him one chance, it’s only fair--besides, Women are far too precious, too divine To try unproven theories upon. Experiments, the proverb says, are made On humble subjects--try our grosser clay, And mold it as you will!

_Cyril._ Remember, too, Dear Madam, if at any time you feel Aweary of the Prince, you can return To Castle Adamant, and rule your girls As heretofore, you know.

_Prin._ And shall I find The Lady Psyche here?

_Psyche._ If Cyril, ma’am, Does not behave himself, I think you will.

_Prin._ And you, Melissa, shall I find you here?

_Melissa._ Madam, however Florian turns out, Unhesitatingly I answer, No.

_Gama._ Consider this, my love: if your mamma Had looked on matters from your point of view (I wish she had), why, where would you have been?

_Lady B._ There’s an unbounded field of speculation, On which I could discourse for hours!

_Prin._ No doubt! We will not trouble you. Hilarion, I have been wrong--I see my error now. Take me, Hilarion--“We will walk the world Yoked in all exercise of noble end! And so through those dark gates across the wild That no man knows! Indeed, I love thee--Come!”

_Finale, from “Le Pont des Soupirs.”_

_Cyril._ Singers know How sweetly at a piano A tenor and soprano Together sound.

_Chorus._ Singers know, &c.

_Hilar._ This will show That men and women verily Can get along more merrily Together bound.

_Chorus._ This will show That men and women verily Can get along more merrily Together bound! Together bound! Together bound!

THE PALACE OF TRUTH:

_A Fairy Comedy_,

Dramatis Personæ. KING PHANOR MR. BUCKSTONE. PRINCE PHILAMIR MR. KENDAL. CHRYSAL MR. EVERILL. ZORAM MR. CLARK. ARISTÆUS MR. ROGERS. GÉLANOR MR. BRAID. QUEEN ALTEMIRE MRS. CHIPPENDALE. PRINCESS ZEOLIDE MISS MADGE ROBERTSON. MIRZA MISS CAROLINE HILL. PALMIS MISS FANNY WRIGHT. AZÈMA MISS FANNY GWYNNE.