The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan

Chapter 143

FAIRFAX My good and kind friend, thou runnest a grave risk for me!

MERYLL Tut, sir, no risk. I'll warrant none here will recognise you. You make a brave Yeoman, sir! So-- this ruff is too high; so-- and the sword should hang thus.

Here is your halbert, sir; carry it thus. The Yeomen come. Now, remember, you are my brave son, Leonard Meryll.

FAIRFAX If I may not bear mine own name, there is none other I would bear so readily.

MERYLL Now, sir, put a bold face on it, for they come.

No. 12. Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true (FINALE OF ACT I) Ensemble

[Enter YEOMEN of the Guard

YEOMEN Oh, Sergeant Meryll, is it true-- The welcome news we read in orders?

Thy son, whose deeds of derring-do Are echoed all the country through, Has come to join the Tower Warders?

If so, we come to meet him, That we may fitly greet him, And welcome his arrival here With shout on shout and cheer on cheer, Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

MERYLL Ye Tower warders, nursed in war's alarms, Suckled on gunpowder, and weaned on glory, Behold my son, whose all-subduing arms Have formed the theme of many a song and story!

Forgive his aged father's pride; nor jeer His aged father's sympathetic tear!

[Pretending to weep]

YEOMEN Leonard Meryll!

Leonard Meryll!

Dauntless he in time of peril!

Man of power, Knighthood's flower, Welcome to the grim old Tower, To the Tower, welcome thou!

FAIRFAX Forbear, my friends, and spare me this ovation, I have small claim to such consideration; The tales that of my prowess are narrated Have been prodigiously exaggerated, prodigiously exaggerated!

YEOMEN 'Tis ever thus!

Wherever valor true is found, True modesty will there abound.

1ST YEOMAN Didst thou not, oh,

Standard lost in last campaign, Rescue it at deadly peril-- Bear it safely back again?

YEOMEN Leonard Meryll, at his peril, Bore it safely back again!

2ND YEOMAN Didst thou not, when prisoner taken, And debarred from all escape, Face, with gallant heart unshaken, Death in most appalling shape?

YEOMEN Leonard Meryll, faced his peril, Death in most appalling shape!

FAIRFAX [aside] Truly I was to be pitied, Having but an hour to live, I reluctantly submitted, I had no alternative!

FAIRFAX [aloud] Oh! the tales that are narrated Of my deeds of derring-do Have been much exaggerated, Very much exaggerated, Scarce a word of them is true!

Scarce a word of them is true!

YEOMEN They are not exaggerated, Not at all exaggerated, Could not be exaggerated, Ev'ry word of them is true!

3RD YEOMAN [optional] You, when brought to execution, Like a demiG.o.d of yore, With heroic resolution s.n.a.t.c.hed a sword and killed a score.

YEOMEN [optional] Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll s.n.a.t.c.hed a sword and killed a score!

4TH YEOMAN [optional] Then escaping from the foemen, Boltered with the blood you shed, You, defiant, fearing no men, Saved your honour and your head!

YEOMEN [optional] Leonard Meryll, Leonard Meryll Saved his honour and his head.

FAIRFAX [optional] True, my course with judgement shaping, Favoured, too, by lucky star, I succeeded in escaping Prison-bolt and prison bar!

FAIRFAX [optional] Oh! the tales that are narrated Of my deeds of derring-do Have been much exaggerated, Very much exaggerated, Scarce a word of them is true!

Scarce a word of them is true!

YEOMEN [optional] They are not exaggerated, Not at all exaggerated, Could not be exaggerated, Ev'ry word of them is true!

[Enter PHOEBE. She rushes to FAIRFAX. Enter WILFRED.

PHOEBE Leonard!

FAIRFAX [puzzled] I beg your pardon?

PHOEBE Don't you know me? I'm little Phoebe!

FAIRFAX [still puzzled] Phoebe? Is this Phoebe?

What! little Phoebe?

[aside] Who the deuce may she be?

It can't be Phoebe, surely?

WILFRED Yes, 'tis Phoebe-- Your sister Phoebe! Your own little sister!

YEOMEN Aye, he speaks the truth; 'Tis Phoebe!

FAIRFAX [pretending to recognise her]

Sister Phoebe!

PHOEBE Oh, my brother!

FAIRFAX Why, how you've grown!

I did not recognize you!

PHOEBE So many years! Oh, brother!

FAIRFAX Oh, my sister!

BOTH Oh, brother!/Oh, sister!

WILFRED Aye, hug him, girl!

There are three thou mayst hug-- Thy father and thy brother and-- myself!

FAIRFAX Thyself, forsooth?

And who art thou thyself?



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