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No. 3: It's Missus
| MARIA: |
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It’s not the work I care about,
Or that one has to do without,
Excepting on one’s Sundays out, |
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All blisses: |
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Its just the way I’m spoken to,
As if I was a black Hindoo!
The reason, Sir, I’m leaving you, |
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It’s missus, its missus — |
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It’s all along o’ missus. |
PEN. (speaking). Go and tell all that to the cook, Maria.
| MARIA: |
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Untouched is beer, uneat cold meat,
Poor Robert starves upon his beat, I can but throw him glances sweet, |
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And kisses! |
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Why she, she’s at one day and night,
One never can’t do nothing right!
The reason, sir, I’m taking flight, |
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It’s missus, its missus — |
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It’s all along o’ missus. |
[Exit MARIA.]
Page modified
20 September, 2007
Copyright © 2007 The Gilbert and Sullivan Archive All Rights Reserved
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