The Complete Plays of Gilbert and SullivanGilbert, W. S. (William Schwenck)
General
The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan
Gilbert, W. S. (William Schwenck)
Operas -- Librettos
NANK. Yum-Yum in tears—and on her wedding morn!
YUM. (sobbing). They've been reminding me that in a month
you're to be beheaded! (Bursts into tears.)
PITTI. Yes, we've been reminding her that you're to be
beheaded. (Bursts into tears.)
PEEP. It's quite true, you know, you are to be beheaded!
(Bursts into tears.)
NANK. (aside). Humph! Now, some bridegrooms would be
depressed by this sort of thing! (Aloud.) A month? Well,
what's a month? Bah! These divisions of time are purely
arbitrary. Who says twenty-four hours make a day?
PITTI. There's a popular impression to that effect.
NANK. Then we'll efface it. We'll call each second a
minute—each minute an hour—each hour a day—and each day a
year. At that rate we've about thirty years of married happiness
before us!
PEEP. And, at that rate, this interview has already lasted
four hours and three-quarters!
[Exit
Peep-Bo.
YUM. (still sobbing). Yes. How time flies when one is
thoroughly enjoying oneself!
NANK. That's the way to look at it! Don't let's be
downhearted! There's a silver lining to every cloud.
YUM. Certainly. Let's—let's be perfectly happy! (Almost
in tears.)
GO-TO. By all means. Let's—let's thoroughly enjoy
ourselves.
PITTI. It's—it's absurd to cry! (Trying to force a
laugh.)
YUM. Quite ridiculous! (Trying to laugh.)
(All break into a forced and melancholy laugh.)
MADRIGAL.
YUM-YUM, PITTI-SING, NANKI-POO, and PISH-TUSH
Brightly dawns our wedding day;
Joyous hour, we give thee greeting!
Whither, whither art thou fleeting?
Fickle moment, prithee stay!
What though mortal joys be hollow?
Pleasures come, if sorrows follow:
Though the tocsin sound, ere long,
Ding dong! Ding dong!
Yet until the shadows fall
Over one and over all,
Sing a merry madrigal—
A madrigal!
Fal-la—fal-la! etc. (Ending in tears.)
Let us dry the ready tear,
Though the hours are surely creeping
Little need for woeful weeping,
Till the sad sundown is near.
All must sip the cup of sorrow—
I to-day and thou to-morrow;
This the close of every song—
Ding dong! Ding dong!
What, though solemn shadows fall,
Sooner, later, over all?
Sing a merry madrigal—
A madrigal!
Fal-la—fal-la! etc. (Ending in tears.)
[Exeunt Pitti-Sing and
Pish-Tush.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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