PHYL. If we're weak enough to tarry Ere we marry, You and I, With a more attractive maiden, Jewel-laden, You may fly. If by chance we should be parted, Broken-hearted I should die— So I think we will not tarry Ere we marry, You and I. PHYL. But does your mother know you're—I mean, is she aware of our engagement? (Enter Iolanthe.) IOL. She is; and thus she welcomes her daughter-in-law! (Kisses her.) PHYL. She kisses just like other people! But the Lord Chancellor? STREPH. I forgot him! Mother, none can resist your fairy eloquence; you will go to him and plead for us? IOL. (much agitated). No, no; impossible! STREPH. But our happiness—our very lives—depend upon our obtaining his consent! PHYL. Oh, madam, you cannot refuse to do this! IOL. You know not what you ask! The Lord Chancellor is—my husband! STREPH. and PHYL. Your husband! IOL. My husband and your father! (Addressing Strephon, who is much moved.) PHYLL. Then our course is plain; on his learning that Strephon is his son, all objection to our marriage will be at once removed! IOL. No; he must never know! He believes me to have died childless, and, dearly as I love him, I am bound, under penalty of death, not to undeceive him. But see—he comes! Quick—my veil! (Iolanthe veils herself. Strephon and Phyllis go off on tiptoe.) (Enter Lord Chancellor.) LORD CH. Victory! Victory! Success has crowned my efforts, and I may consider myself engaged to Phyllis! At first I wouldn't hear of it—it was out of the question. But I took heart. I pointed out to myself that I was no stranger to myself; that, in point of fact, I had been personally acquainted with myself for some years. This had its effect. I admitted that I had watched my professional advancement with considerable interest, and I handsomely added that I yielded to no one in admiration for my private and professional virtues. This was a great point gained. I then endeavoured to work upon my feelings. Conceive my joy when I distinctly perceived a tear glistening in my own eye! Eventually, after a severe struggle with myself, I reluctantly—most reluctantly—consented. (Iolanthe comes down veiled.) RECITATIVE—IOLANTHE (kneeling). My lord, a suppliant at your feet I kneel, Oh, listen to a mother's fond appeal! Hear me to-night! I come in urgent need— 'Tis for my son, young Strephon, that I plead! BALLAD—IOLANTHE.