Hilarion: If it be 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 be well, I say, to do all this, Then Prince Hilarion is very well.
Princess: He breathes our name? Well, it"s a common one!
And is the b.o.o.by comely?
Hilarion: Pretty well.
I"ve heard it said that if I dressed myself In Prince Hilarion"s clothes (supposing this Consisted 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 undisguised contempt?
Princess: 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!
Hilarion: (Aside to Cyril) Be quiet, idiot, or they"ll find us out.
Cyril: The Prince Hilarion"s a goodly lad!
Princess: You know him then?
Cyril: (Tipsily) I rather think I do!
We are inseparables!
Princess: Why, what"s this?
You love him then?
Cyril: We do indeed -- all three!
Hilarion: 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!
Princess: (Horrified) Astride?
Cyril: Of course! Why not?
Wore the same clothes -- and once or twice, I think, Got tipsy in the same good company!
Princess: Well, these are nice young ladies, on my word!
Cyril: (Tipsy) Don"t you remember that old kissing-song He"d sing to blushing Mistress Lalage, The hostess of the Pigeons? Thus it ran:
SONG (Cyril) "Would you know the Kind of Maid"
(During symphony Hilarion and Florian try to stop Cyril. He shakes them off angrily.)
Cyril: Would you know the kind of maid Sets my heart aflame-a?
Eyes must be downcast and staid, Cheeks must flush for shame-a!
She may neither dance nor sing, But, demure in everything, Hang her head in modest way, With pouting lips, with pouting lips that seem to say, "Oh kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, Though I die of shame-a!"
Please you, that"s the kind of maid Sets my heart aflame-a!
"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, Though I die of shame-a!"
Please you, that"s the kind of maid Sets my heart aflame-a!
When a maid is bold and gay, With a tongue goes clang-a, Flaunting it in brave array, Maiden may go hang-a Sunflow"r gay and holly-hock Never shall my garden stock; Mine the blushing rose of May, With pouting lips, with pouting lips that seem to say, "Oh kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, Though I die for shame-a!"
Please you, that"s the kind of maid Sets my heart aflame-a!
"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, Though I die of shame-a!"
Please you, that"s the kind of maid Sets my heart aflame-a!
Princess: Infamous creature, get you hence away!
(Hilarion, Who has been with difficulty restrained by Florian during this song, breaks from him and strikes Cyril furiously on the breast.)
Hilarion: Dog! There is something more to sing about!
Cyril: (Sobered) Hilarion, are you mad?
Princess: (Horrified) 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 her balance and falls into the stream)
Psyche: Oh! Save her, sir!
Blanche: It"s useless, sir -- you"ll only catch your death!
(Hilarion springs in.)
Sach.: 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: (Not looking) And it comes off!
Psyche: No, no! She"s saved!--she"s saved! she"s saved!--she"s saved!
FINALE, ACT II (Princess, Hildebrand, Melissa, Lady Psyche, Blanche, Cyril, Hilarion, Florian, Arac, Guron, Scynthius and Chorus of Girls and Men )
"Oh Joy! our Chief is Sav"d"
Girls: Oh joy! our chief is sav"d And by Hillarion"s hand; The torrent fierce he brav"d, And brought her safe to land!
For his intrusion we must own This doughty deed may well atone!
Princess: Stand forth ye three, Who-e"er ye be, And hearken to our stern decree!
Cyril, & Florian: Have mercy, O Lady Hilarion: Have disregard your Mer-- oaths! cy!
Princess: I know no mercy, men in women"s clothes!
The man whose sacrilegious eyes Invade our strict seclusion, dies.