Produced by Al Haines. *MUCH ADO ABOUT SOMETHING* *BY C. E. LAWRENCE* AUTHOR OF "PILGRIMAGE," ETC. LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1909 TO MY FATHER AND MOTHER *CONTENTS* CHAPTER I. DOWN FAIRYLAND WAY II. THE MADNESS OF JUNE III. PARADISE COURT IV. COCKNEYDOM V. TOM TIDDLER’S GROUND VI. POST-PRANDIAL VII. ARCHIDIACONAL FUNCTIONS VIII. MAN AND SUPERMAN IX. THE PROGRESS OF OBERON X. THE IMPORTANCE OF BIM XI. A PROSE INTERLUDE XII. A NIGHT OUT XIII. IN SOCIETY XIV. CONVERTING A DUCHESS XV. LIBERTY HALL XVI. PROGRESS XVII. THE ARISTOCRACY MOVES XVIII. A COMPACT XIX. NEW YEAR’S DAY XX. IN PARLIAMENT XXI. OBERON AT LAST XXII. CROWNED *CHAPTER I* *DOWN FAIRYLAND WAY* Fairyland! Fairyland! There was to be high revel in Fairyland. From far and wide, from uphill and down dale, from here, there and all about, the little people were to gather in the Violet Valley. Oberon and Titania were coming, as well as Mab, Puck, Gloriana, Tinkerbell, and innumerable unnamable others of the princes, thrones, dominations, powers of Elfdom. Pixies, gnomes, kelpies, sprites, brownies, sylphs, every shadow and shape owning allegiance to the Fairy King, would endeavour to be at that congress of the mimic immortals. It was a red-letter night in the history of the aristocratical democracy: the greatest occasion of the kind since the year One. To-morrow would be Mayday, and midnight was not just yet. Nightingales were tuning, preparing. The air was honeyed with the scent of flowers. A round white moon looked from a shining sky on the Violet Valley. It lingered; travelled tardily across mountains and spaces of leisurely-drifting clouds, waiting with its best dilatoriness, intending to see all that was possible of the approaching revels. It looked upon and lighted a scene of young-leaved trees, grass of the freshest green, new-come flowers, and sparkling waters. The world which is always beautiful wore its best loveliness then. That was Fairyland. Far away northwards there was a lurid, hazy glow in the sky. Red, vast and vague it loomed, obliterating the stars beyond, marking the place where Fairyland was not. That was the shadow which shone over London. In the country there was peace--absolute peace; then, mellowed by distance, the chimes of a church clock. Twelve! The fairy-time had come.