Sca.: Suppose we all--(whispers) Phan.: Now there I think you"re right.
Then we might all--(whispers) Tar.: That"s true, we certainly might.
I"ll tell you what--(whispers) Sca.: We will if we possibly can.
Then on the spot-- (whispers) Phan. and Tar.: Bravo! A capital plan!
Sca.: That"s exceedingly neat and new!
Phan.: Exceedingly new and neat.
Tar.: I fancy that that will do.
Sca.: It"s certainly very complete.
Phan.: Well done you sly old sap!
Tar.: Bravo, you cunning old mole!
Sca.: You very ingenious chap!
Phan.: You intellectual soul!
(All, coming down and addressing audience.)
At last a capital plan we"ve got We won"t say how and we won"t say what: It"s safe in my noddle-- Now off we will toddle, And slyly develop this capital plot!
(Business. Exeunt Scaphio and Phantis in one direction, and Tarara in the other.)
(Enter Lord Dramaleigh and Mr. Goldbury.)
Lord D.: Well, what do you think of our first South Pacific Drawing-Room? Allowing for a slight difficulty with the trains, and a little want of familiarity with the use of the rouge-pot, it was, on the whole, a meritorious affair?
Gold.: My dear Dramaleigh, it redounds infinitely to your credit.
Lord D.: One or two judicious innovations, I think?
Gold.: Admirable. The cup of tea and the plate of mixed biscuits were a cheap and effective inspiration.
Lord D.: Yes--my idea entirely. Never been done before.
Gold.: Pretty little maids, the King"s youngest daughters, but timid.
Lord D.: That"ll wear off. Young.
Gold.: That"ll wear off. Ha! here they come, by George! And with- out the Dragon! What can they have done with her?
(Enter Nekaya and Kalyba timidly.)
Nekaya: Oh, if you please, Lady Sophy has sent us in here, because Zara and Captain Fitzbattleaxe are going on, in the garden, in a manner which no well-conducted young ladies ought to witness.
Lord D.: Indeed, we are very much obliged to her Ladyship.
Kalyba: Are you? I wonder why.
Nekaya: Don"t tell us if it"s rude.
Lord D.: Rude? Not at all. We are obliged to Lady Sophy because she has afforded us the pleasure of seeing you.
Nekaya: I don"t think you ought to talk to us like that.
Kalyba: It"s calculated to turn our heads.
Nekaya: Attractive girls cannot be too particular.
Kalyba: Oh pray, pray do not take advantage of our unprotected inno- cence.
Gold.: Pray be rea.s.sured--you are in no danger whatever.
Lord D.: But may I ask--is this extreme delicacy--this shrinking sensitiveness--a general characteristic of Utopian young ladies?
Nekaya: Oh no; we are crack specimens.
Kalyba: We are the pick of the basket. Would you mind not coming quite so near? Thank you.
Nekaya: And please don"t look at us like that; it unsettles us.
Kalyba: And we don"t like it. At least, we do like it; but it"s wrong.
Nekaya: We have enjoyed the inestimable privilege of being educated by a most refined and easily shocked English lady, on the very strictest English principles.
Gold.: But, my dear young ladies---
Kalyba: Oh, don"t! You mustn"t. It"s too affectionate.
Nekaya: It really does unsettle us.
Gold.: Are you really under the impression that English girls are so ridiculously demure? Why, an English girl of the highest type is the best, the most beautiful, the bravest, and the brightest creature that Heaven has conferred upon this world of ours. She is frank, open-hearted, and fearless, and never shows in so favorable a light as when she gives her own blameless impulses full play!
Nekaya Oh, you shocking story!
and Kalyba:
Gold.: Not at all. I"m speaking the strict truth. I"ll tell you all about her.
SONG -- Mr. Goldbury.
A wonderful joy our eyes to bless, In her magnificent comeliness, Is an English girl of eleven stone two, And five foot ten in her dancing shoe!
She follows the hounds, and on the pounds-- The "field" tails off and the m.u.f.fs diminish--
Over the hedges and brooks she bounds, Straight as a crow, from find to finish.
At cricket, her kin will lose or win-- She and her maids, on gra.s.s and clover, Eleven maids out--eleven maids in-- And perhaps an occasional "maiden over!"
Go search the world and search the sea, Then come you home and sing with me There"s no such gold and no such pearl As a bright and beautiful English girl!
With a ten-mile spin she stretches her limbs, She golfs, she punts, she rows, she swims-- She plays, she sings, she dances, too, From ten or eleven til all is blue!
At ball or drum, til small hours come (Chaperon"s fans concealing her yawning) She"ll waltz away like a teetotum.
And never go home til daylight"s dawning.
Lawn-tennis may share her favours fair-- Her eyes a-dance, and her cheeks a-glowing-- Down comes her hair, but then what does she care?
It"s all her own and it"s worth the showing!