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No. 22: FINALE (Act II)
"Comes the Pretty Young Bride"
Enter Yeomen and Women.
| Women. |
Comes the pretty young bride, a-blushing, timidly shrinking —
Set all thy fears aside — cheerily, pretty young bride!
Brave is the youth to whom thy lot thou art willingly linking!
Flower of valour he — loving as loving can be!
Brightly thy summer is shining,
Brightly thy summer is shining,
Fair as the dawn, as the dawn of the day;
Take him, be true to him —
Tender his due to him —
Honour him, honour him, love and obey! |
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Enter Dame Carruthers, Phœbe, and Elsie as Bride.
| Phœbe, Elsie & Dame Carruthers. |
'Tis said that joy in full perfection
Comes only once to womankind —
That, other times, on close inspection,
Some lurking bitter we shall find.
If this be so, and men say truly,
My day of joy has broken duly
With happiness my/her soul is cloyed —
With happiness is cloyed —
With happiness my/her soul is cloyed —
This is my/her joy-day unalloyed, unalloyed,
This is my/her joy-day unalloyed! |
| All. |
Yes, yes, with happiness her soul is cloyed!
This is her joy-day unalloyed! |
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Flourish. Enter Lieutenant.
| Lieutenant. |
Hold, pretty one! I bring to thee
News — good or ill, it is for thee to say.
Thy husband lives — and he is free,
And comes to claim his bride this very day! |
| Elsie. |
| No! No! recall those words — it cannot be! |
| Elsie. |
Dame Carruthers & Phœbe |
Lieutenant, Meryll & Wilfred. |
Chorus. |
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Oh, day of terror! |
Come, dry these unbecoming tears, |
Oh, day of terror! |
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Oh, day of terror! |
Most joyful tidings
greet thine ears. |
Oh, day of terror! |
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The man to whom
thou art allied |
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Day of terror! |
| Oh, Leonard, |
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Come, dry these unbecoming tears, |
Day of tears! |
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Most joyful tidings
greet thine ears. |
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Appears to claim thee
as his bride. |
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Day of terror! |
| Oh, Leonard, |
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The man to whom
thou art allied |
Day of tears! |
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Appears to claim thee
as his bride. |
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| Come thou to my side, |
The man to whom
thou art allied |
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Who is the man, who in his pride |
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The man to whom
thou art allied |
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| And claim me as as thy loving bride |
Appears to claim thee
as his bride. |
Appears to claim thee
as his bride,
as his bride. |
Claims thee as his bride? |
| Day of terror! |
Day of terror! |
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Day of terror! |
| Day of tears! |
Day of tears! |
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Day of tears! |
Flourish. Enter Colonel Fairfax, handsomely dressed, and attended by other Gentlemen
Colonel Fairfax (John Dean) keeps Elsie in doubt as to his identity
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| Fairfax. (sternly) |
All thought of Leonard Meryll set aside.
Thou art mine own! I claim thee as my bride. |
| All. |
Thou art his own!
Alas! he claims thee as his bride. |
| Elsie. |
A suppliant at thy feet I fall;
Thine heart will yield to pity's call! |
| Fairfax. |
Mine is a heart of massive rock,
Unmoved by sentimental shock! |
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| Elsie. (aside) |
Leonard, my loved one — come to me.
They bear me hence away!
But though they take me far from thee,
My heart is thine for aye!
My bruised heart,
My broken heart,
Is thine, my own, for aye!
Is thine, is thine, my own,
Is thine, for aye! |
| (To Fairfax) |
Sir, I obey!
I am thy bride;
But ere the fatal hour
I said the say
That placed me in thy pow'r
Would I had died!
Sir, I obey!
I am thy bride!
Looks up and recognizes Fairfax.
Leonard! |
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| Elsie & Fairfax. |
With happiness my soul is cloyed,
This is our joy-day unalloyed! |
| All. |
Yes, yes!
With happiness their souls are cloyed,
This is their joy-day unalloyed!
With happiness their souls are cloyed,
This is their joy-day unalloyed,
Their joy-day unalloyed, unalloyed! |
Enter Jack Point. |
| Point. |
Oh, thoughtless crew!
Ye know not what ye do!
Attend to me, and shed a tear or two —
For I have a song to sing, O! |
| All. |
| Sing me your song, O! |
| Point. |
It is sung to the moon
By a love-lorn loon,
Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
It's a song of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye. |
| All. |
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me — lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye! |
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1961 Production
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It's the song of a merryman, moping mum. Watercolour by W. Russell Flint
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| Elsie. |
| I have a song to sing, O! |
| All. |
| What is your song, O! |
| Elsie. |
It is sung with the ring
Of the songs maids sing
Who love with a love life-long, O!
It's the song of a merrymaid, nestling near,
Who loved her lord, but who but dropped a tear
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye! |
| All. |
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me — lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me — lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Heighdy! heighdy! |
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Fairfax embraces Elsie as Point falls insensible at their feet.
CURTAIN
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