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<h2> ACT II </h2> Scene.—Palace Yard, Westminster. Westminster Hall, L. Clock tower up, R.C. Private Willis discovered on sentry, R. Moonlight. SONG—PRIVATE WILLIS. When all night long a chap remains On sentry-go, to chase monotony He exercises of his brains, That is, assuming that he's got any. Though never nurtured in the lap Of luxury, yet I admonish you, I am an intellectual chap, And think of things that would astonish you. I often think it's comical—Fal, lal, la! How Nature always does contrive—Fal, lal, la! That every boy and every gal That's born into the world alive Is either a little Liberal Or else a little Conservative! Fal, lal, la! When in that House M.P.'s divide, If they've a brain and cerebellum, too, They've got to leave that brain outside, And vote just as their leaders tell 'em to. But then the prospect of a lot Of dull M. P.'s in close proximity, All thinking for themselves, is what No man can face with equanimity. Then let's rejoice with loud Fal la—Fal lal la! That Nature always does contrive—Fal lal la! That every boy and every gal That's born into the world alive Is either a little Liberal Or else a little Conservative! Fal lal la! (Enter Fairies, with Celia, Leila, and Fleta. They trip round stage.) CHORUS OF FAIRIES. Strephon's a Member of Parliament! Carries every Bill he chooses. To his measures all assent— Showing that fairies have their uses. Whigs and Tories Dim their glories, Giving an ear to all his stories— Lords and Commons are both in the blues! Strephon makes them shake in their shoes! Shake in their shoes! Shake in their shoes! Strephon makes them shake in their shoes! (Enter Peers from Westminster Hall.) CHORUS OF PEERS. Strephon's a Member of Parliament! Running a-muck of all abuses. His unqualified assent Somehow nobody now refuses. Whigs and Tories Dim their glories, Giving an ear to all his stories Carrying every Bill he may wish: Here's a pretty kettle of fish! Kettle of fish! Kettle of fish! Here's a pretty kettle of fish! (Enter Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller from Westminster Hall.) CELIA. You seem annoyed. LORD MOUNT. Annoyed! I should think so! Why, this ridiculous protege of yours is playing the deuce with everything! To-night is the second reading of his Bill to throw the Peerage open to Competitive Examination! LORD TOLL. And he'll carry it, too! LORD MOUNT. Carry it? Of course he will! He's a Parliamentary Pickford—he carries everything! LEILA. Yes. If you please, that's our fault! LORD MOUNT. The deuce it is! CELIA. Yes; we influence the members, and compel them to vote just as he wishes them to. LEILA. It's our system. It shortens the debates. LORD TOLL. Well, but think what it all means. I don't so much mind for myself, but with a House of Peers with no grandfathers worth mentioning, the country must go to the dogs! LEILA. I suppose it must! LORD MOUNT. I don't want to say a word against brains—I've a great respect for brains—I often wish I had some myself—but with a House of Peers composed exclusively of people of intellect, what's to become of the House of Commons? LEILA. I never thought of that! LORD MOUNT. This comes of women interfering in politics. It so happens that if there is an institution in Great Britain which is not susceptible of any improvement at all, it is the House of Peers! SONG—LORD MOUNTARARAT. When Britain really ruled the waves— (In good Queen Bess's time) The House of Peers made no pretence To intellectual eminence, Or scholarship sublime; Yet Britain won her proudest bays In good Queen Bess's glorious days! CHORUS. Yes, Britain won, etc. When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte, As every child can tell, The House of Peers, throughout the war, Did nothing in particular, And did it very well: Yet Britain set the world ablaze In good King George's glorious days! CHORUS. Yes, Britain set, etc. And while the House of Peers withholds Its legislative hand, And noble statesmen do not itch To interfere with matters which They do not understand, As bright will shine Great Britain's rays As in King George's glorious days! CHORUS. As bright will shine, etc. LEILA. (who has been much attracted by the Peers during this song). Charming persons, are they not? CELIA. Distinctly. For self-contained dignity, combined with airy condescension, give me a British Representative Peer! LORD TOLL. Then pray stop this protege of yours before it's too late. Think of the mischief you're doing! LEILA (crying). But we can't stop him now. (Aside to Celia.) Aren't they lovely! (Aloud.) Oh, why did you go and defy us, you great geese! DUET—LEILA and CELIA. LEILA. In vain to us you plead— Don't go! Your prayers we do not heed— Don't go! It's true we sigh, But don't suppose A tearful eye Forgiveness shows. Oh, no! We're very cross indeed— Yes, very cross, Don't go! FAIRIES. It's true we sigh, etc. CELIA. Your disrespectful sneers— Don't go! Call forth indignant tears— Don't go! You break our laws— You are our foe: We cry because We hate you so! You know! You very wicked Peers! You wicked Peers! Don't go! FAIRIES. LORDS MOUNT. and TOLL. You break our laws— Our disrespectful sneers, You are our foe: Ha, ha! We cry because Call forth indignant tears, We hate you so! Ha, ha! You know! If that's the case, my dears— You very wicked Peers! FAIRIES. Don't go! Don't go! PEERS. We'll go! (Exeunt Lord Mountararat, Lord Tolloller, and Peers. Fairies gaze wistfully after them.) (Enter Fairy Queen.) QUEEN. Oh, shame—shame upon you! Is this your fidelity to the laws you are bound to obey? Know ye not that it is death to marry a mortal? LEILA. Yes, but it's not death to wish to marry a mortal! FLETA. If it were, you'd have to execute us all! QUEEN. Oh, this is weakness! Subdue it! CELIA. We know it's weakness, but the weakness is so strong! LEILA. We are not all as tough as you are! QUEEN. Tough! Do you suppose that I am insensible to the effect of manly beauty? Look at that man! (Referring to Sentry.) A perfect picture! (To Sentry.) Who are you, sir? WILLIS (coming to "attention"). Private Willis, B Company, 1st Grenadier Guards. QUEEN. You're a very fine fellow, sir. WILLIS. I am generally admired. QUEEN. I can quite understand it. (To Fairies.) Now here is a man whose physical attributes are simply godlike. That man has a most extraordinary effect upon me. If I yielded to a natural impulse, I should fall down and worship that man. But I mortify this inclination; I wrestle with it, and it lies beneath my feet! That is how I treat my regard for that man! SONG—FAIRY QUEEN. Oh, foolish fay, Think you, because His brave array My bosom thaws, I'd disobey Our fairy laws? Because I fly In realms above, In tendency To fall in love, Resemble I The amorous dove? (Aside.) Oh, amorous dove! Type of Ovidius Naso! This heart of mine Is soft as thine, Although I dare not say so! CHORUS. Oh, amorous dove, etc. On fire that glows With heat intense I turn the hose Of common sense, And out it goes At small expense! We must maintain Our fairy law; That is the main On which to draw— In that we gain A Captain Shaw! (Aside.) Oh, Captain Shaw! Type of true love kept under! Could thy Brigade With cold cascade Quench my great love, I wonder! CHORUS. Oh, Captain Shaw! etc. (Exeunt Fairies and Fairy Queen, sorrowfully.) (Enter Phyllis.) PHYL. (half crying). I can't think why I'm not in better spirits. I'm engaged to two noblemen at once. That ought to be enough to make any girl happy. But I'm miserable! Don't suppose it's because I care for Strephon, for I hate him! No girl could care for a man who goes about with a mother considerably younger than himself! (Enter Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller.) LORD MOUNT. Phyllis! My darling! LORD TOLL. Phyllis! My own! PHYL. Don't! How dare you? Oh, but perhaps you're the two noblemen I'm engaged to? LORD MOUNT. I am one of them. LORD TOLL. I am the other. PHYL. Oh, then, my darling! (to Lord Mountararat). My own! (to Lord Tolloller). Well, have you settled which it's to be? LORD TOLL. Not altogether. It's a difficult position. It would be hardly delicate to toss up. On the whole we would rather leave it to you. PHYL. How can it possibly concern me? You are both EarIs, and you are both rich, and you are both plain. LORD MOUNT. So we are. At least I am. LORD TOLL. So am I. LORD MOUNT. No, no! LORD TOLL. I am indeed. Very plain. LORD MOUNT. Well, well—perhaps you are. PHYL. There's really nothing to choose between you. If one of you would forgo his title, and distribute his estates among his Irish tenantry, why, then, I should then see a reason for accepting the other. LORD MOUNT. Tolloller, are you prepared to make this sacrifice? LORD TOLL. No! LORD MOUNT. Not even to oblige a lady? LORD TOLL. No! not even to oblige a lady. LORD MOUNT. Then, the only question is, which of us shall give way to the other? Perhaps, on the whole, she would be happier with me. I don't know. I may be wrong. LORD TOLL. No. I don't know that you are. I really believe she would. But the awkward part of the thing is that if you rob me of the girl of my heart, we must fight, and one of us must die. It's a family tradition that I have sworn to respect. It's a painful position, for I have a very strong regard for you, George. LORD MOUNT. (much affected). My dear Thomas! LORD TOLL. You are very dear to me, George. We were boys together—at least I was. If I were to survive you, my existence would be hopelessly embittered. LORD MOUNT. Then, my dear Thomas, you must not do it. I say it again and again—if it will have this effect upon you, you must not do it. No, no. If one of us is to destroy the other, let it be me! LORD TOLL. No, no! LORD MOUNT. Ah, yes!—by our boyish friendship I implore you! LORD TOLL. (much moved). Well, well, be it so. But, no—no!—I cannot consent to an act which would crush you with unavaillng remorse. LORD MOUNT. But it would not do so. I should be very sad at first—oh, who would not be?—but it would wear off. I like you very much—but not, perhaps, as much as you like me. LORD TOLL. George, you're a noble fellow, but that tell-tale tear betrays you. No, George; you are very fond of me, and I cannot consent to give you a week's uneasiness on my account. LORD MOUNT. But, dear Thomas, it would not last a week! Remember, you lead the House of Lords! On your demise I shall take your place! Oh, Thomas, it would not last a day! PHYL. (coming down). Now, I do hope you're not going to fight about me, because it's really not worth while. LORD TOLL. (looking at her). Well, I don't believe it is! LORD MOUNT. Nor I. The sacred ties of Friendship are paramount. QUARTET—LORD MOUNTARARAT, LORD TOLLOLLER, PHYLLIS, and PRIVATE WILLIS. LORD TOLL. Though p'r'aps I may incur your blame, The things are few I would not do In Friendship's name! LORD MOUNT. And I may say I think the same; Not even love Should rank above True Friendship's name! PHYL. Then free me, pray; be mine the blame; Forget your craze And go your ways In Friendship's name! ALL. Oh, many a man, in Friendship's name, Has yielded fortune, rank, and fame! But no one yet, in the world so wide, Has yielded up a promised bride! WILLIS. Accept, O Friendship, all the same, ALL. This sacrifice to thy dear name! (Exeunt Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller, lovingly, in one direction, and Phyllis in another. Exit Sentry.) (Enter Lord Chancellor, very miserable.) RECITATIVE—LORD CHANCELLOR. Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest: Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers: Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest, And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers! SONG—LORD CHANCELLOR. When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is taboo'd by anxiety, I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in, without impropriety; For your brain is on fire—the bedclothes conspire of usual slumber to plunder you: First your counterpane goes, and uncovers your toes, and your sheet slips demurely from under you; Then the blanketing tickles—you feel like mixed pickles—so terribly sharp is the pricking, And you're hot, and you're cross, and you tumble and toss till there's nothing 'twixt you and the ticking. Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick 'em all up in a tangle; Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its usual angle! Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eye-balls and head ever aching. But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams that you'd very much better be waking; For you dream you are crossing the Channel, and tossing about in a steamer from Harwich— Which is something between a large bathing machine and a very small second-class carriage— And you're giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to a party of friends and relations— They're a ravenous horde—and they all came on board at Sloane Square and South Kensington Stations. And bound on that journey you find your attorney (who started that morning from Devon); He's a bit undersized, and you don't feel surprised when he tells you he's only eleven. Well, you're driving like mad with this singular lad (by the by, the ship's now a four-wheeler), And you're playing round games, and he calls you bad names when you tell him that "ties pay the dealer"; But this you can't stand, so you throw up your hand, and you find you're as cold as an icicle, In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold clocks), crossing Salisbury Plain on a bicycle: And he and the crew are on bicycles too—which they've somehow or other invested in— And he's telling the tars all the particulars of a company he's interested in— It's a scheme of devices, to get at low prices all goods from cough mixtures to cables (Which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers as though they were all vegetables— You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman (first take off his boots with a boot-tree), And his legs will take root, and his fingers will shoot, and they'll blossom and bud like a fruit-tree— From the greengrocer tree you get grapes and green pea, cauliflower, pineapple, and cranberries, While the pastrycook plant cherry brandy will grant, apple puffs, and three corners, and Banburys— The shares are a penny, and ever so many are taken by Rothschild and Baring, And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake with a shudder despairing— You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and no wonder you snore, for your head's on the floor, and you've needles and pins from your soles to your shins, and your flesh is a-creep, for your left leg's asleep, and you've cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose, and some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue, and a thirst that's intense, and a general sense that you haven't been sleeping in clover; But the darkness has passed, and it's daylight at last, and the night has been long—ditto ditto my song—and thank goodness they're both of them over! (Lord Chancellor falls exhausted on a seat.) (Enter Lords Mountararat and Tolloller.) LORD MOUNT. I am much distressed to see your Lordship in this condition. LORD CH. Ah, my Lords, it is seldom that a Lord Chancellor has reason to envy the position of another, but I am free to confess that I would rather be two Earls engaged to Phyllis than any other half-dozen noblemen upon the face of the globe. LORD TOLL. (without enthusiasm). Yes. It's an enviable position when you're the only one. LORD MOUNT. Oh yes, no doubt—most enviable. At the same time, seeing you thus, we naturally say to ourselves, "This is very sad. His Lordship is constitutionally as blithe as a bird—he trills upon the bench like a thing of song and gladness. His series of judgements in F sharp minor, given andante in six-eight time, are among the most remarkable effects ever produced in a Court of Chancery. He is, perhaps, the only living instance of a judge whose decrees have received the honour of a double encore. How can we bring ourselves to do that which will deprive the Court of Chancery of one of its most attractive features?" LORD CH. I feel the force of your remarks, but I am here in two capacities, and they clash, my Lords, they clash! I deeply grieve to say that in declining to entertain my last application to myself, I presumed to address myself in terms which render it impossible for me ever to apply to myself again. It was a most painful scene, my Lords—most painful! LORD TOLL. This is what it is to have two capacities! Let us be thankful that we are persons of no capacity whatever. LORD MOUNT. Come, come. Remember you are a very just and kindly old gentleman, and you need have no hesitation in approaching yourself, so that you do so respectfully and with a proper show of deference. LORD CH. Do you really think so? LORD MOUNT. I do. LORD CH. Well, I will nerve myself to another effort, and, if that fails, I resign myself to my fate! TRIO—LORD CHANCELLOR, LORDS MOUNTARARAT and TOLLOLLER. LORD MOUNT. If you go in You're sure to win— Yours will be the charming maidie: Be your law The ancient saw, "Faint heart never won fair lady!" ALL. Never, never, never, Faint heart never won fair lady! Every journey has an end— When at the worst affairs will mend— Dark the dawn when day is nigh— Hustle your horse and don't say die! LORD TOLL. He who shies At such a prize Is not worth a maravedi, Be so kind To bear in mind— Faint heart never won fair lady! ALL. Never, never, never, Faint heart never won fair lady! While the sun shines make your hay— Where a will is, there's a way— Beard the lion in his lair— None but the brave deserve the fair! LORD CH. I'll take heart And make a start— Though I fear the prospect's shady— Much I'd spend To gain my end— Faint heart never won fair lady! ALL. Never, never, never, Faint heart never won fair lady! Nothing venture, nothing win— Blood is thick, but water's thin— In for a penny, in for a pound— It's Love that makes the world go round! (Dance, and exeunt arm-in-arm together.) (Enter Strephon, in very low spirits.) [The following song was deleted from production] Fold your flapping wings, Soaring legislature. Stoop to little things, Stoop to human nature. Never need to roam members patriotic. Let's begin at home, Crime is no exotic. Bitter is your bane Terrible your trials Dingy Drury Lane Soapless Seven Dials. Take a tipsy lout Gathered from the gutter, Hustle him about, Strap him to a shutter. What am I but he, Washed at hours stated. Fed on filagree, Clothed and educated He's a mark of scorn I might be another If I had been born Of a tipsy mother. Take a wretched thief, Through the city sneaking. Pocket handkerchief Ever, ever seeking. What is he but I Robbed of all my chances Picking pockets by force of circumstances I might be as bad, As unlucky, rather, If I'd only had, Fagin for a father. STREPH. I suppose one ought to enjoy oneself in Parliament, when one leads both Parties, as I do! But I'm miserable, poor, broken-hearted fool that I am! Oh Phyllis, Phyllis!— (Enter Phyllis.) PHYL. Yes. STREPH. (surprised). Phyllis! But I suppose I should say "My Lady." I have not yet been informed which title your ladyship has pleased to select? PHYL. I—I haven't quite decided. You see, I have no mother to advise me! STREPH. No. I have. PHYL. Yes; a young mother. STREPH. Not very—a couple of centuries or so. PHYL. Oh! She wears well. STREPH. She does. She's a fairy. PHYL. I beg your pardon—a what? STREPH. Oh, I've no longer any reason to conceal the fact—she's a fairy. PHYL. A fairy! Well, but—that would account for a good many things! Then—I suppose you're a fairy? STREPH. I'm half a fairy. PHYL. Which half? STREPH. The upper half—down to the waistcoat. PHYL. Dear me! (Prodding him with her fingers.) There is nothing to show it! STREPH. Don't do that. PHYL. But why didn't you tell me this before? STREPH. I thought you would take a dislike to me. But as it's all off, you may as well know the truth—I'm only half a mortal! PHYL. (crying). But I'd rather have half a mortal I do love, than half a dozen I don't! STREPH. Oh, I think not—go to your half-dozen. PHYL. (crying). It's only two! and I hate 'em! Please forgive me! STREPH. I don't think I ought to. Besides, all sorts of difficulties will arise. You know, my grandmother looks quite as young as my mother. So do all my aunts. PHYL. I quite understand. Whenever I see you kissing a very young lady, I shall know it's an elderly relative. STREPH. You will? Then, Phyllis, I think we shall be very happy! (Embracing her.) PHYL. We won't wait long. STREPH. No. We might change our minds. We'll get married first. PHYL. And change our minds afterwards? STREPH. That's the usual course. DUET—STREPHON and PHYLLIS. STREPH. If we're weak enough to tarry Ere we marry, You and I, Of the feeling I inspire You may tire By and by. For peers with flowing coffers Press their offers— That is why I am sure we should not tarry Ere we marry, You and I! 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. He loves! If in the bygone years Thine eyes have ever shed Tears—bitter, unavailing tears, For one untimely dead— If, in the eventide of life, Sad thoughts of her arise, Then let the memory of thy wife Plead for my boy—he dies! He dies! If fondly laid aside In some old cabinet, Memorials of thy long-dead bride Lie, dearly treasured yet, Then let her hallowed bridal dress— Her little dainty gloves— Her withered flowers—her faded tress— Plead for my boy—he loves! (The Lord Chancellor is moved by this appeal. After a pause.) LORD CH. It may not be—for so the fates decide! Learn thou that Phyllis is my promised bride. IOL. (in horror). Thy bride! No! no! LORD CH. It shall be so! Those who would separate us woe betide! IOL. My doom thy lips have spoken— I plead in vain! CHORUS OF FAIRIES (without). Forbear! forbear! IOL. A vow already broken I break again! CHORUS OF FAIRIES (without). Forbear! forbear! IOL. For him—for her—for thee I yield my life. Behold—it may not be! I am thy wife. CHORUS OF FAIRIES (without). Aiaiah! Aiaiah! Willaloo! LORD CH. (recognizing her). Iolanthe! thou livest? IOL. Aye! I live! Now let me die! (Enter Fairy Queen and Fairies. Iolanthe kneels to her.) QUEEN. Once again thy vows are broken: Thou thyself thy doom hast spoken! CHORUS OF FAIRIES. Aiaiah! Aiaiah! Willahalah! Willaloo! Willahalah! Willaloo! QUEEN. Bow thy head to Destiny: Death thy doom, and thou shalt die! CHORUS OF FAIRIES. Aiaiah! Aiaiah! etc. (Peers and Sentry enter. The Queen raises her spear.) LEILA. Hold! If Iolanthe must die, so must we all; for, as she has sinned, so have we! QUEEN. What? CELIA. We are all fairy duchesses, marchionesses, countesses, viscountesses, and baronesses. LORD MOUNT. It's our fault. They couldn't help themselves. QUEEN. It seems they have helped themselves, and pretty freely, too! (After a pause.) You have all incurred death; but I can't slaughter the whole company! And yet (unfolding a scroll) the law is clear—every fairy must die who marries a mortal! LORD CH. Allow me, as an old Equity draftsman, to make a suggestion. The subtleties of the legal mind are equal to the emergency. The thing is really quite simple—the insertion of a single word will do it. Let it stand that every fairy shall die who doesn't marry a mortal, and there you are, out of your difficulty at once! QUEEN. We like your humour. Very well! (Altering the MS. in pencil.) Private Willis! SENTRY (coming forward). Ma'am! QUEEN. To save my life, it is necessary that I marry at once. How should you like to be a fairy guardsman? SENTRY. Well, ma'am, I don't think much of the British soldier who wouldn't ill-convenience himself to save a female in distress. QUEEN. You are a brave fellow. You're a fairy from this moment. (Wings spring from Sentry's shoulders.) And you, my Lords, how say you, will you join our ranks? (Fairies kneel to Peers and implore them to do so.) (Phyllis and Strephon enter.) LORD MOUNT. (to Lord Tolloller). Well, now that the Peers are to be recruited entirely from persons of intelligence, I really don't see what use we are, down here, do you, Tolloller? LORD TOLL. None whatever. QUEEN. Good! (Wings spring from shoulders of Peers.) Then away we go to Fairyland. FINALE. PHYL. Soon as we may, Off and away! We'll commence our journey airy— Happy are we— As you can see, Every one is now a fairy! ALL. Every, every, every, Every one is now a fairy! IOL., QUEEN, Though as a general rule we know and PHYL. Two strings go to every bow, Make up your minds that grief 'twill bring If you've two beaux to every string. ALL. Though as a general rule, etc. LORDCH. Up in the sky, Ever so high, Pleasures come in endless series; We will arrange Happy exchange— House of Peers for House of Peris! ALL. Peris, Peris, Peris, House of Peers for House of Peris! LORDS CH., Up in the air, sky-high, sky-high, MOUNT., Free from Wards in Chancery, and TOLL. I/He will be surely happier, for I'm/He's such a susceptible Chancellor. ALL. Up in the air, etc. CURTAIN <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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