One, two. Two, two.
# So please you, sir, we much regret
# If we have failed in etiquette
# Towards a man of rank so high
# We shall know better by and by
# But youth, of course, must have its fling
# So pardon us, so pardon us
# And don't in girlhood's happy spring
# Be hard on us, be hard on us
# If we're inclined to dance and sing
# Tralalalala
# But youth, of course, must have its fling
# So pardon us
# And don't in girlhood's happy spring
# Be hard on us
# But youth, of course, must have its fling
# So pardon us
# Tralalala la la la
# Tralalala la la
# Tra lalalalalala
# Tralalalalalala la!
- Sir Arthur, what are you doing? - Going to the theatre.
- No, it is not possible. - I have no choice!
- You must get back... - Louis!
- Hot coffee, very strong, please. - D'accord.
- Louis! "Schnell", please! - Don't move.
Clothilde, encore du café. Vite.
Sir Arthur, la tasse, s'il vous plaît.
- Bonne chance, Sir Arthur. - Merci.
Nicht so schnell.
Louis, ich muss das allein tun.
I'll be fine. Now go and fetch the cab.
- Canton. - Good evening, sir.
Arthur!
- Arthur, is this wise? - No, it's foolish.
- Do you intend to go on? - Yes, Helen. I've never missed one yet.
I'll let everybody know.
- Here, take a drink. - Thank you.
Oh, that's better, Frank.
- Your gloves, sir. - Very good, Louis.
This "is" a surprise, sir.
# As up we string the faithless king
# In the old familiar way
# We'll shout ha ha! Hip hip hurrah!
# Hip hip hip hip hurrah!
# As we make an end of her false papa!
# Hurrah! Hurrah!
- Permission, Mr Cook. - Permission, Shrimp.
Come!
Five minutes, Mr Grossmith.
# If you give me your attention I will tell you what I am
# I'm a genuine philanthropist
# All other kinds are sham
# Each little fault of temper
# And each social defect
# In my erring fellow creatures
# I endeavour to correct
# To all their little weaknesses
# I open people's eyes
# And little plans to snub the self-sufficient I devise
# I love my fellow creatures
# I do all the good I can
# Yet everybody says I'm such a disagreeable man
# And I can't think why
# I'm sure I'm no ascetic
# I'm as pleasant as can be
# You'll always find me ready with a crushing repartee
# I've an irritating chuckle, I've a celebrated sneer
# I've an entertaining snigger
# I've a fascinating leer
# To everybody's prejudice I know a thing or two
# I can tell a woman's age in half a minute - and I do
# But although I try to make myself
# As pleasant as I can
# Yet everybody says I am a disagreeable man
# And I can't think why
# He can't think why
# I can't think
# Why
- Monsieur. - Bonsoir.
- Vous avez lá un succés certain. - Merci.
What do you expect me to do? Kiss the carpenters?
Arthur!
Let's get him up.
Come on, sir.
Arthur, take some brandy.
What happened? What happened?!
Is Doctor Lynch in the house?
Listen to this! Today's "Times".
"'Princess Ida' will probably run for a year...
...keeping the Savoy treasury agreeably replete all the while."
"All London will flock to hear it."
"So will our provincial, American and continental visitors."
"Copies of its words and music will be sold by tens of thousands."
"Everybody connected with it will have a good time for at least twelve months."
"So mote it be."
- How splendid, Willie! - Sugared words, Lucy.
Listen.
"The opera is above the level of all other entertainments before the public."
"Still, I cannot pronounce it to be in any way...
...an improvement upon its predecessors."
"To me, words and music alike reveal...
...symptoms of fatigue in their respective composer and author."
"Arthur Sullivan cannot write other than in pleasing manner...
...but several numbers in 'Princess Ida' lack the freshness and spontaneity...
...of 'The Pirates of Penzance', 'Patience, lolanthe'...
...or 'The Sorcerer', his best operatic work."
Oh! Is it?
"Or 'HMS Pinafore', the most popular."
"WS Gilbert abundantly proves he is still the legitimate monarch...
...of the realm of Topsy-Turvydom."
Thank you very much(!)
"But his incongruities are more elaborately worked up than of yore...
...and therefore less funny."
"Moreover, the story is a dull one!"
- Burn it, Pidgeon! - Sir.
Willie...!
Your kidneys are getting cold!
The show's doing splendidly. Full houses and a healthy advance.
- Capital. - Three tours on the road.
Pirates, Patience and lolanthe.
- And four in rehearsal. - Merveilleux.
New York can't wait for "Ida".
Ah, New York. How splendid.
- Helen has us booked up to year's end. - Tireless as ever.
All part of my day's work.
- Tea, Miss Lenoir? - No, thank you, Louis.
Very well.
I hope your confinement hasn't made you restless.
How have you been passing the time?
I've made some resolutions, Helen.
- A little late in the new year, perhaps. - Better late than never.
May we know what they are, Arthur?
Why not?
One.
To travel to the Continent as soon as my health permits.
- Very wise. - I think so.
Two.
To look for a country house where I may repair each summer...
...without having to cross the Channel.
- Three. To take more exercise. - Excellent, Arthur. About time, too.
A leaf out of your book, D'Oyly. I must walk more.
And is there a number four?
Yes.
To write no more operas for the Savoy.
- And what is number five? - To fly to the moon in his bed socks!
No, I'm serious. I have to write a grand opera.
People expect it of me. I must not disappoint them.
I cannot waste any more time on these trivial soufflés.
Do you know I haven't written a symphony for over 20 years?
Not an unprofitable 20 years, if I may say so.
Arthur.
If you would learn to organise your time more efficiently...
...you could do everything you wished.
My time is finite, Helen. I must fill it with that which is important to me.
Is not the Savoy Theatre important to you?
This work with Gilbert is quite simply killing me.
Working with Gilbert would kill anybody.
Is your contract with D'Oyly and Mr Gilbert not important to you?
But our present concern is your health.
You must go to the South of France and recover.
We can discuss this on your return.
I shall recover, D'Oyly.
And I shall return.
But there will be nothing to discuss.
Did you dine at the Beefsteak Club?
Yes. Somewhat unsatisfactory.
Oh.
Well, you missed Mrs Judd's rabbit curry.
One gets the impression that everyone is snickering behind one's back.
Perhaps you could have some for tomorrow's lunch.
The king of Topsy-Turvydom.
Humiliating.
You look a little uncomfortable.
I'm comfortable enough.
I watched a bit from the wings.
- Oh, did you? - The first act.
Seemed to be going well, surprisingly.
There! You see?
Would you like me to read to you?
No, thank you. I'll leave you.
You must be tired.
No, I'm not in the slightest.
Wrong of me to unburden myself on you.
Don't be silly. That's why I'm here.
Come and talk to your Kitty.
Sometimes one wonders why one bothers.
They say jump... you jump.
- Good night, my dear. - Good night.
Lady Colin is endeavouring to persuade us to take up smoking.
She's writing an article for The Saturday Review.
She proposes that nicotine is a gift from the gods...
...and if men may benefit from its soothing qualities...
...why, then, may women not also?
My poor daughter now believes that...
...smoking is an extension of the communion...
...between a woman and her husband.
- Will she smoke on her wedding day?
Heaven forfend!
Lady Colin is... irresistible.
She cannot conceive why the Irish are starving...
...when there's "lots of good fish in the sea".
She most probably has a point.
- Oh, there's good news from Dublin. - Mmm?
The Churchills "are" to return to London.
Forgiven, but not forgotten.
I do hope so.
Jenny says Winston is 11, covered in freckles...
...and has a total disdain for authority.
Mmm.
I shall miss this fragrance.
Sicilian lemons.
Have you chosen your Beethoven for the Philharmonic Society?
As a matter of fact, I have.
Yes.
- No.2? - The Seventh.
- Ah. - More dramatic.
And that is to be your work whilst you're away?
That... and only that.
Will there be room for Mr Gilbert in your baggage?
Certainly not. He's far too large.
Food for thought.
Ce n'est pas á moi de dire.
Indeed not.
Which train will you catch?
The tidal train.
Up at seven.
Arriver á Paris á 3:30?
Á peu prés.
How will you spend your first night of liberty?
I shall take some exercise.
Hmm!
La poupée de Paris, alors!
# Les oiseaux
# Dans la charmille
C'est émouvant!
Whoo!
Allez, battez!
C'est mes cuisses!
Plus de cuisses!
Whoo!
Comment vous appelez-vous?
Voilá Mademoiselle Fromage, monsieur.
Oui, c'est vrai.
Quelle sorte de fromage?
Peut-ìtre un fromage suisse?
Oui, oui!
Avec des petits trous?
Si je peux vous embrasser...
Et vous aussi.
# This helmet I suppose
# Was meant to ward off blows
# It's very hot and weighs a lot
# As many a guardsman knows
# So off
# So off that helmet goes
# Yes, yes, yes!
# So off that helmet goes
# This tight-fitting cuirass
# Is but a useless mass
# It's made of steel and weighs a deal
# This tight-fitting cuirass
# Is but a useless mass
# A man is but an ass
# Who fights in a cuirass
# So off
# So off goes that cuirass
# Yes, yes, yes
# So off goes that cuirass
# Behold!
My voice. My voice - I've strained my voice.
I've been trying too hard.
The smaller the house, the greater the effort.
I'm very cross with myself. I should know better.
One's knocking one's pipes out in a vain attempt to elicit a response...
...from three colonial bishops, two elderly ladies and an intoxicated costermonger!
They're roasting in their own lard, like the Christmas goose.
And the costermonger left at the interval.
- Did he? - Mm.
Ha! A man of infinite taste. Clearly!
Will you take a wee gargle of my salt water?
No, thank you. It would put me in mind of my boyhood.
Mm. Do forgive me.
Not at all.
I fear that dear Mr Gilbert has run out of ideas.
- No. - He doesn't know what to do with me!
Ponder this.
He thrusts me into tight-fitting pots and pails...
...and poaches me like a fucking haddock!
Forgive my Anglo-Saxon, Mr Butt. Have a biscuit.
Thank you, sir. I'll take one 'ome with me for me supper.
Dickie, it's just this heat.
It addles the noodles. It happened to me in Milan frequently.
Ah, Milano. Bellissimo.
The heat less hellish.
I am humiliated.
One might as well be in the chorus.
Away wi' you, you wee monkey!
Alas, no!
The reign of the Emperor Gilbert is all but at an end.
I consider this to be his best piece so far.
With all due respect, Durward, your romantic opinion may be informed...
...by the fact that you take a rather good role, in which you are "trés splendide".
- Mm, grazie. - Prego.
But I consider "Princess Ida" to be their worst.
- Do you? - I do.
Where is the panache of "Pirates"?
The wit of the "Pinafore"?
From such a face and form as mine...
...the noblest sentiments...
...sound like the black utterances...
...of a depraved imagination.
It was very good, you know.
- Yes, Dickie. - Do forgive me, dear boy.
I don't wish to be the prophet of doom.
But one has the distinct feeling...
...that the sword of Damocles hovers ominously over the Savoy Theatre.
How was Temple?
Oh. Rather disgruntled, I fear.
As though he wasn't quite enjoying himself.
His heart wasn't in it.
No. One can usually rely on Mr Temple, can't one?
Mmm.
And the ladies' chorus look as though they could all do with a hearty meal.
It's this infernal heat.
One still has to feed oneself, Willie, whatever the weather.
And the audience were fanning themselves...
...with their programmes and libretti.
Most distracting when one is striving to concentrate on the performance...
...to have in the corner of one's eye this confounded flapping!
Makes one want to stand up and shout!
- I trust you restrained yourself. - Of course I did, Willie.
- More tea, ma'am? - No, thank you, Pidgeon.
- Coffee, sir? - Yes.
Pidgeon. Did my father say anything else?
Nothing I should care to repeat, sir.
There were more people on the stage than in the audience.
Did you count them?
- No, of course I didn't. - Then how do you know?
I was speaking metaphorically.
You were exaggerating.
- Anything else, sir? - No, thank you.
Oh, horror!
Horror!
Willie.
- Come in.
- Good morning, my dear. - Good morning, Richard.
- Another scorcher. - The everlasting bonfire.
- Good morning, guv'nor. - Morning, Barker.
Thank you.
- Shocking. - Most alarming.
A mediocre evening.
- Three fainters. - In the audience?
I fear so. All women.
- Any absentees? - Four chorus members.
- With doctors' notes? - Yes.
And... how are the returns?
- Oh, good grief! - It's an improvement on Monday.
Seven dead horses in the Strand this morning...
Well, one down by Trafalgar Square.
How can you sit there in your hat and coat, Barker?
I'm too hot to remove them, Mr Carte.
- This is developing into a crisis. - Indeed it is.
- A man has a family to support. - I fear we shall all have to "pray" for rain.
If it's any consolation, every theatre in town is afflicted.
Even the Gaiety, graced as it is with...
...Madame Bernhardt's execrable Lady Macbeth. 38 per cent.
- Who told you that, Barker? - Hollingshead.
I played a game of cricket with him this morning at Coram's Fields.
- In this heat? - Er, yes, madam, but not in this attire.
Good.
- Mr Hollingshead told you a fib, Barker. - Indeed?
He's only playing to 29 per cent.
Mr Hollingshead has no need to lie to "me", Mr Carte.
Mr Hollingshead has much need to lie to everybody, Mr Barker.
- Especially you. - Gentlemen...!
Are you there?
Yes.
8505.
Hello!
- Is that you, Mr Gilbert? - Hello!
- Hello? - Good morning, Barker.
This is Barker speaking!
- Gilbert here! - Good morning, Mr Gilbert.
How are we today, Barker?
Are we popular, or are we mad?
Er... We are popular!
Very good. Carry on.
Here is your message for today!
U, U, plus ten shillings and sixpence!
- Can you repeat that, please?! - Yes.
U... U!
So that's U for udder...
...U for udder, plus ten shillings and sixpence.
So you have two udders, Barker!
- Er... yes. - I always suspected as much!
- Thank you. - Thank you!
- Goodbye! - Goodbye, Mr Gilbert!
I'm going to hang up the telephone now!
In... Indeed you are, sir.
Well, I'm, er... going out to seek a little Italian hokey-pokey...
...and I care not who knows it. - Thank you, Barker.
I shall not return with any for you, sir, because it would melt.
Au revoir.
I owe you an apology, Kitty. I fear you weren't exaggerating after all.
Apology accepted. Thank you, Willie.
Schwenck speaks to the Savoy every morning in code, Father-in-law...
...just in case the telephone operator should be eavesdropping.
One might as well open the window and shout down the street.
- That will be more comfortable for you. - Sheer waste of time.
It will only result in the further erosion of the written word.
Would you care to sit down now?
Er... er... thank you.
- Ah, there you are, Pidgeon. - Ma'am.
I do apologise, sir, that neither I nor Schwenck was here...
...to welcome you on your arrival last night.
I do not appreciate being left upon the doorstep like a hawker.
If you'll only press the electric bell, Father, you'll be admitted at once.
- Is that not so, Pidgeon? - Indeed it is, sir.
I have no intention of placing my life in danger, sir!
How many doorstep deaths have we had thus far, Pidgeon?
Er, none to my certain knowledge, sir.
There you are, Father. The odds appear to be in your favour.
- Anything else, sir? - No, thank you.
Would you tell Mrs Judd Dr Gilbert will join us for lunch?
Certainly, ma'am.
You know, Father-in-law, that you are most welcome in our home...
...at any time.
But, please, do try to inform us of your intention to visit.
A father should not have to seek permission...
...to visit his own son!
The son shouldn't be expected to be clairvoyant!
Who does he think I am? Harlequin?
Would you excuse me?
I take it that you will be joining us for lunch, Father-in-law?
I-I have no idea where I shall be taking luncheon...
...thank you.
Well, perhaps Schwenck can persuade you.
Take lunch with us, Father.
We shall enjoy your company.
Am I to understand, sir...
...that you have been in communication with your mother?
No, Father, not for some considerable time, I'm glad to say.
You are a liar, sir.
No, sir!
I can assure you, Papa, that the last person...
...with whom I wish to have any communication...
...is your estranged wife!
The vicious woman who bore me into this ridiculous world!
How dare you, sir! Have you no respect?
Don't misunderstand me, Father.
Nobody respects her more than I do, and I can't stand her.
She is a veritable gorgon!
She is indeed! And she has chosen her own path.
And in so doing, she has turned her back on yourself and myself.
And for that small mercy, we should both of us be eternally grateful.
Those terrors...
...that visit me in the night.
They can never be vanquished.
Ah! Insomnia. I suffer from it myself.
But it is she who sends them.
I know it is she!
I know not what heathen oracle she consults...
...what filthy familiar she employs.
I know that... they will come.
Wh... Wh... What are these walls?
£5,000?
The last ten shares. Worth every penny.
Trust me, Arthur.
I do, D'Oyly.
- What's this? - Pull it.
It's a reservoir pen. It contains its own ink.
Good gracious me! Whatever will they think of next?
Try it.
Now, how long is all this going to take?
Two years.
I shall begin the foundations next month.
Thank you.
To the Savoy Hotel.
The Savoy Hotel.
With its 70 bathrooms.
The builder was much bemused.
"What's the point of 'aving a bathroom to every bedroom?"
"Who's gonna be staying there? Amphibians?"
D'Oyly, I can't tell you how delightful it is to see you here in Paris.
- You're looking much better. - A new man!
Monte Carlo was most profitable.
Florence was hideously hot. I sampled the chartreuse at Certosa.
The monks were uncommonly charming.
The train journey through the St Gotthard Pass is spectacular.
You must go. And Lucerne...
Tranquillity itself.
I walked until I dropped.
Did you receive my letter?
Yes, I did.
Good.
And?
It came to Brussels.
I "sent" it to Brussels, Arthur.
Yes, of course.
Nous sommes prìts.
Vouz avez tué ce pigeon vous-mìme?
Non, monsieur. Je laisse au bourreau le soin de le faire.
C'est mieux comme ça.
So, what is your position?
Much the same, I'm afraid.
I fully realise, D'Oyly, that you have me under contract.
But I cannot write any more operas for the Savoy.
At least, not of that particular character.
I think you should tell Gilbert.
I shall. The moment I return.
Messieurs...
... je vous souhaite bon appétit.
- Merci. - Merci.
# The reason is not far to find
# When we are near
# For though they say that love is blind
# Ah, never fear
# Ah, ah, ah
# We see our destinies entwined
# In noonday clear
# And love is over all
# When shadows fall
# And thou art
# Here
- Il est bien, Clothilde. - "Oui, madame." You are a tonic for him.
"Merci." Cherish him.
Of course, "madame".
Oh! Mrs Ronalds. What an unexpected pleasure.
- Mr Gilbert, how are you? - How are you?
- Quite well. - I'm so pleased.
- He's in excellent spirits. - I look forward to his tales.
- Good day. - Good day to you.
- Au revoir. - Madame.
- Ça va, Clothilde? - Ça va, monsieur?
- It is hot, no? - Yes.
- He awaits. - Thank you.
How was your crossing, Sullivan?
Mercifully smooth, thank you.
As smooth as D'Oyly Carte?
No, not quite, Gilbert!
- Lump sugar? - Thank you, no.
Oh, please do. I found it in Lucerne. It's delicious.
If you insist.
- Mmm! Very good. - Good.
- Is Lucy well? - Oh, she's in fine fettle.
She sends you her love and trusts you are in good health.
Thank you. Please reciprocate.
Oh, of course.
Now, what's this Carte's been telling me?
Oh, dear.
- You can't be serious. - I'm afraid I am.
So you've torn up our contract into tiny pieces and cast it to the four winds?
- Don't be absurd! - That would be the implication.
I hardly think so.
What else is one to deduce?
Oh, Gilbert.
There's so much that I have yet to do for music...
...for my queen, for my country.
Even if God were to grant me two days for every one I have left on this earth...
...I still should not be able to achieve everything.
Come, come, Sullivan, you're a genius.
I merely bask in your reflected glory.
Oh, Gilbert, please.
But I'm somewhat at a loss. What is the precise nature of your dilemma?
How shall I put this?
My tunes, my orchestrations, are becoming repetitious.
I've rung all the changes possible in the way of variety of rhythm.
I have such respect for your words...
...that I have continually kept down my music in order that they can be heard.
It's no more than word-setting.
Sullivan, I have always subordinated my words to your music.
Oh, I think not.
You've often expatiated on the thorough good feeling...
...with which we've worked together. - Unquestionably.
But I want a chance for my music to act in its own proper sphere.
It does. It always has and it always will.
It must be allowed to intensify the emotional depth not only of your words...
...but of the situation, which can be humorous, dramatic... What you will.
Of course. It goes without saying.
You teach me the ABC of my profession.
Now. Would you care for me to read this to you or not?
- Where is it set? - In the Sicilian mountains.
Plenty of scope there for Gypsy music, one might suggest.
Now, the local alchemist is killed in an explosion...
...and there, amongst his effects, a chorus of villagers discover a potion.
- Magic, no doubt. - Indeed.
I thought as much.
The effect of this magic potion is to transform the character who takes it...
...into whatever he or she is pretending to be.
- You and your world of Topsy-Turvydom!
In 1881, it was a magic coin.
And before that, it was a magic lozenge.
And in 1877, it was an elixir.
In this instance, it is a magic potion.
"Act One. Scene:
...a mountain inn on a picturesque Sicilian pass."
"A range of mountains with Etna in the distance."
- I've made you some beef tea, Mr Gilbert. - Take it away.
You've not had anything since yesterday afternoon, sir.
- Take it away. - You can't work on an empty stomach.
Can't work at all, Mrs Judd, if I'm being constantly pestered...
...by interfering women with hot beef tea, cold compresses, mustard poultices...
...and excessive attacks of philanthropic zeal.
- How's my wounded soldier? - He's not doing as he's told, madam.
Oh, isn't he now?
Willie, are you intending to visit the dentist tomorrow?
- You really... - Oh, for God's sake! You pair of harpies!
Get out! I'm working!
- Willie. - Madam...
I had rather spend an afternoon in a Turkish bath with my mother...
...than visit the dratted dentist.
Very well.
Good night!
- She's being just a little bit tricky.
She's coming.
Well done, Mr Gilbert!
Rinse.
She's a beauty.
- Open wide. - Wh... What?
- Bite... really hard.
I must say, my wife and I did find "Princess Ida"...
...rather too long, don't you know.
Try not to speak, old chap.
I do hope you've enjoyed your evening...
...but before we say farewell, may I suggest an impromptu?
Mr Walter Simmonds has generously offered...
...to accompany me on the harmonium!
Now, we have another very young hopeful with us this evening...
...who has kindly agreed to accompany us with a new composition of his own.
The Lost Chord!
Sir Arthur informed me a few moments ago...
...that he cannot entirely recall his new piece.
- Merci, madame.
# Seated one day at the organ
# I was weary and ill at ease
# And my fingers wandered idly
# Over the noisy keys
# I know not what I was playing
# Or what I was dreaming then
# But I struck one chord of music
# Like the sound of a great amen
# Like the sound
# Of a great amen
It's ridiculous.
It is. I sent him the thing on Monday of last week.
He could have read it on the same day. At the very least on Tuesday.
Now ten days have passed and not a word.
- This concerns me greatly. - It concerns "me" greatly.
- You'll have to go and see him. - I'll be buggered if I do any such thing!
I present the man with my idea, he rejects it...
...I respond in detail to his misgivings but answer came there none.
Either he hasn't read it, or he has read it and he doesn't like it.
If he doesn't, he should say so. At least we shall know where we stand.
- Go and see him. - No, Carte! You go and see him.
I've no more shots in my locker.
Sullivan & Gilbert! Who are they?
At least we're going to revive "The Sorcerer".
Only as a stopgap.
- It's breathing space. - It won't run more than three months.
Your unbounded optimism is inspiring, Carte.
I have great confidence in "The Sorcerer", but I'm not in the business of revivals.
You are now. Since you've decided to withdraw the ailing "Princess Ida"...
...in spite of the cooler weather.
# Sprites of earth and air
# Fiends of flame and fire
# Demon souls come here in shoals
# This fearful deed inspire
# Appear! Appear!
# Appear!
# Good master, we are here!
# Noisome hags of night
# Imps of deadly shade
# Pallid ghosts
# Arise in hosts
# And lend me all your aid
# Appear!
# Good master, we are here!
# Hark, hark, they assemble
# These fiends of the night
# Oh, Alexis, I tremble
# Seek safety in flight!
# Let us fly to a far-off land
# Where peace and plenty dwell
# Where the sigh of the silver strand
# Is echoed in every shell
# To the joys that land will give
# On the wings of Love we'll fly
# In innocence there to live
# In innocence there to die
# In innocence there to live
# There to die
# To live and die
# Too late, too late
# That may not be!
# It may not be
# That happy fate
# Is not for thee
# That happy fate
# Is not for thee
# Now, shrivelled hags with poison bags
# Discharge your loathsome loads
# Spit flame and fire, unholy choir
# Belch forth your venom, toads
# Ye demons fell with yelp and yell
# Shed curses far afield
# Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight
# In noisome plenty yield
Number one!
# It is done!
Number two.
# One too few!
Number three!
# Set us free! Set us free! Our work is done
# Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!
# Ha ha ha haa!
# Let us fly to a far-off land
# Where peace and plenty dwell
# Too late, too late
# Let us fly where the silver strand is echoed in every shell
# Too late, too late
# Let us fly! Let us fly!
# That happy fate
# Let us fly! Let us fly!
- How many today, Jessie? - Only nine, alas!
"Oh, alas!"
I have received none today.
I'm utterly neglected.
Have these, you poor soul!
I don't want your scraps, Jessie Bond.
Too vigorous, Emily. Apply the bandage.
Beg your pardon, Miss Bond.
- Shall I ever find anybody again? - Don't be so gloomy, Leonora.
Sadly, I seem to appeal only to elderly gentlemen.
Where are my young bucks and blades? Quel dommage!
I've told you what you must do.
The last thing a girl wants after an evening's performance...
...is to have to go and sing all night for London society.
Idle ladies and their odious husbands.
One has to sing for one's supper.
It's damned exhausting. I detest it.
Anyway, they're not all married.
And some of them are rather cute and courteous.
You have them dangling on a leash, Jessie.
One must keep oneself amused, don't you know?
So terribly trying.
When I meet a gentleman, he invites me to supper.
I mention my little... secret...
...and then he's off, quick smart.
C'est impossible!
You shouldn't reveal your secret...
...until he's fallen in love with you and has proposed!
Oh, Jessie, for goodness' sake!
By the by, "monsieur", you do realise I have a little boy?
I couldn't possibly pretend that Stanton doesn't exist. No.
No, he's my precious little bundle.
- How's his toothache? - Earache.
He suffers terribly, poor mite.
- Shall I lace you up now, Miss Bond? - Of course, Emily.
Surely your Mr Barnes would be willing?
Mr Baker. Jessie, please!
I do not intend to become a widow again before I'm 50.
No. Neither do I.
# No doubt, yet spite of all your pains
# The interesting fact remains
- Come in.
#... a little boy
# He was a little boy
Five minutes, Miss Braham.
- Thank you, Shrimp. - Pleasure, miss.
# But soft, they waken one by one
# The spell has worked
# The deed is done
# I would suggest that we retire
# While Love, the housemaid
# Lights her kitchen fire
# While Love, the housemaid
# Lights her kitchen fire
# Why
# Where be oi
# And what be oi a-doin'
# A-sleepin' out just when
# The dew do rise?
# Why, that's the very way your 'ealth to ruin
# And don't seem quite respectable likewise
# 'Ey, that's you
# Only think of that now
# What may you be at now?
# Tell me do
# 'Ey, what a nose
# And oh, what eyes, miss
# Lips like a rose
# And cheeks likewise, miss
# Oi'll tell you true
# Which I never done, sir
# Oi like you
# As oi never liked none, sir.
# 'Ey, but I do
# Like you
- Morning, Carte. - Good morning, Gilbert.
- Cigar? - Thank you.
- Gilbert. - Sullivan. May I?
- Certainly. - Morning, D'Oyly.
- Good morning, Miss Lenoir. - Good morning.
Good day, Helen.
Now, gentlemen. We all know why we're here.
We seem to have come to something of a standstill.
- Indeed we have. - Which, Arthur, is because...
Oh.
Because, Helen...
...I am unable to set the piece that Gilbert persists in presenting.
The piece I persist in presenting is substantially altered each time.
Otherwise there'd be little point in my presenting it to you.
With respect, old chap, it is not substantially altered at all.
You seem merely to have grafted on to the first act...
...the tantalising suggestion that we are to be in the realms of...
...human emotion and probability...
...only to disappoint us by reverting to your familiar world of Topsy-Turvydom.
That which I have grafted on to Act One, Sullivan, has been at your request.
But if you take exception to Topsy-Turvydom...
...you take exception to a great deal of my work of the past 25 years.
Not to mention much of what you and I have written together since 1871.
- That is patent balderdash! - Is it?
Gentlemen, if we might keep things cordial, we may make some progress.
Arthur, can you really not see your way to setting this new piece?
- Alas, Helen, I cannot. - Cannot or will not?
I am truly unable to set any piece that is so profoundly uncongenial to me.
Uncongenial though it may be to you...
...I must remind you that we here are conducting a business.
May I remind you, Helen, that I am not a machine.
I would not suggest for one moment that you were.
You all seem to be treating me as a barrel organ.
You have but to turn my handle...
...and out pops a tune! - That's not strictly true.
- Arthur. - Come now, that's unfair.
You are both contractually obliged to supply a new work on request.
The very act of signing a joint contract dictates that we must be businesslike.
Yes, Mr Gilbert.
And I was wondering whether "you" might be able to solve our wee difficulty.
- How, pray? - By simply writing another libretto.
It's out of the question. I have worked for many long months at this play...
...which I have every confidence will be the best we have produced at the Savoy.
To abandon it would be both criminal and wasteful.
I see.
Had the complaint been lodged earlier, that might have been different.
I did so when you presented the libretto.
I was unable to present you with the libretto...
...until you returned from your grand tour!
- That is neither here nor there. - No, Sullivan. Indeed.
I was here and you were there. Ha!
What I don't understand, Arthur...
...is why you cannot set this piece.
You're our greatest composer. Surely you can do anything?
How very kind you are, Helen.
But I say again to you all, I am at the end of my tether.
I have been repeating myself in this... class of work for too long...
...and I will not continue so to do.
Neither of us runs any risk of repeating himself.
This is an entirely new story, quite unlike any other.
It's markedly similar to "The Sorcerer".
People say we're repeating ourselves.
How is it similar to "The Sorcerer"?
Obviously both involve characters...
...who are transformed by the taking of a magic potion.
A device which I continue to find utterly contrived.
Every theatrical performance is a contrivance by its very nature.
Yes, but this piece consists entirely of an artificial and implausible situation.
If you wish to write a grand opera about a prostitute...
...dying of consumption in a garret...
...I suggest you contact Mr lbsen in Oslo.
I'm sure he can furnish you with something suitably dull.
- Gilbert, please. - Hmm?
I do beg your pardon, Miss Lenoir.
Oh, no. Granted.
The opportunity to treat a situation of tender, human and dramatic interest...
...is one I long for more than anything else in the world.
If that is your sincere desire, I would be willing, with Carte's permission...
...to withdraw my services whilst you write a grand opera...
...with a collaborator with whom you have more affinity.
- No, Gilbert. - I'm in earnest, Sullivan.
No doubt we shall be pursuing that in the future.
Indeed.
Well, that is your prerogative, Carte.
However, we are concerned with the present.
Arthur. Will you or will you not set Mr Gilbert's new and original work?
Ma belle Héléne: Ce n'est pas possible.
Truly?
I'm afraid so.
That being the case... Mr Gilbert...
Am I right to suppose that you remain unable to accommodate us?
Indeed, Miss Lenoir.
I have had what I deem to be a good idea...
...and such ideas are not three a penny.
What a pity.
This will be a very sad day for many thousands of people.
Well, gentlemen, I don't know about you...
...but speaking for myself, I could murder a pork chop.
If you'll excuse me, I shall retrieve my hat.
- Gilbert. - Sullivan.
Good day to you both.
No doubt we shall be in communication in the near future.
- Good day, Mr Gilbert. - Good day.
You know where to find me.
Arthur.
- Where have you been? - Shopping.
Surprising(!)
I was in Knightsbridge... and guess what I saw?
An elephant gilding two lilies.
- No. - I have no idea.
Three tiny Japanese ladies!
- How do you know they were Japanese? - They had on their funny dressing gowns.
Had they just got up?
No, there's a Japanese exhibition at Humphreys' Hall.
Oh, yes. Japanese village of some sort.
Yes! Yes, sounds rather intriguing. Might we visit?
- No. - But the whole of London will be going!
- Precisely! - Don't be so stubborn!
I have other things on my mind, you know that!
Yes, I do know that and I understand...
...but a little distraction will do you good.
- Kitty, I don't want to be distracted. - Yes, you do.
Oh, do I? You know my mind better than I do, do you?
I know you better than you think I do.
Lucy, if you wish to visit Humphreys' Hall, by all means do so...
...but I shall not accompany you for all the tea in China.
What are you writing, sir?
- Good afternoon, Lucy. - Maude!
Good heavens! What are you doing here?
- How are you, Schwenck? - How jolly! You must join us.
Unfortunately, we're about to leave.
- Oh, what a pity. - What do you make of it all?
- It's entrancing. - It's frightful.
- How's Mother? - Quite well.
She's in bed.
Come along, Maude.
- We mustn't keep you. Good day to you. - Give her my best.
Of course.
- Well... "au revoir". - Good day, Maude.
Au revoir.
- My goodness! - Mmm.
Perfectly green.
- Spinach water. - Oh, Willie!
Thank you very much.
Shikuspen, prease.
- I beg your pardon? - Shikuspen, prease.
- She speaks English! - What did she say?
She said, "Sixpence, please"!
- Shikuspence, prease. - Oh, sixpence!
- Thank you very much. - Arigato gozaimasu.
Shixpence, prease.
Here we are, sir.
- There, Pidgeon. - Very good, sir.
Comme ça.
Yes, sir.
Show it to me.
To your right.
More... Good. Down a bit.
Down a bit... There.
- Mark it there. - Yes, sir.
- Give it to me. - Thank you, sir.
That's a fine-looking instrument, sir.
Now, would that be Spanish or Italian?
- Neither, Pidgeon. - Er, of course, sir.
- Excellent! Thank you. - Thank you, sir.
Do we suppose that Lucy is... with child?
- I beg your pardon, Mama? - Lucy.
Is she "enceinte"? With child?
Why ever would you think that?
One wouldn't have said she was sickly.
Although... she did ask after "you", Mama.
What did he say?
- Who? - Schwenck!
He said nothing, Mama! Nothing!
Nothing! Absolutely nothing!
Your dear son said very little.
And what he did say, I have already told you.
Now...
Do you care for this or not?
It is merely a piece of wood.
Very well. I shall keep it for my collection.
- Maude! - Yes, Mama?
Never bear a humorous baby.
I shall endeavour not to, Mama.
# Behold the Lord High Executioner
# A personage of noble rank and title
# A dignified and potent officer
# Whose functions are particularly vital
# Defer! Defer!
# To the Lord High Executioner
# Defer! Defer!
# To the noble Lord, to the noble Lord
# To the Lord High Executioner
# Taken from the county jail
# By a set of curious chances
# Liberated then on bail
# On my own recognisances
# Wafted by a favouring gale
# As one sometimes is in trances
# To a height that few can scale
# Save by long and weary dances
# Surely never had a male
# Under suchlike circumstances
# So adventurous a tale
# Which may rank with most romances
# Taken from the county jail
# By a set of curious chances
# Surely never had a male
# So adventurous a tale
"The Mikado, or the town of Titipu."
"Act One."
"Scene: Courtyard of Ko-Ko's palace in Titipu."
"Japanese nobles discovered standing and sitting...
...in attitudes suggested by native drawings."
"Chorus: 'If you want to know who we are We're gentlemen of Japan.'"
"'On many a vase and jar, on many a screen and fan
we figure in lively paint, our attitudes queer and quaint.'"
"'You're wrong if you think it ain't.'"
"'If you think we are worked by strings like a Japanese marionette,
you don't understand these things -
it's simply Court etiquette.'"
"'Perhaps you suppose this throng can't keep it up all day long.'"
"'If that's your idea, you're wrong.'"
"Enter Nanki-Poo, in great excitement."
"He carries a native guitar on his back and a bundle of ballads in his hand."
"Recitative, Nanki-Poo."
"'Gentlemen, I pray you, tell me...
...where a lovely maiden dwelleth named Yum-Yum, the ward of Ko-Ko.'"
"'In pity speak, oh, speak, I pray you.'"
"'I hurried back at once in the hope of finding Yum-Yum...
...at liberty to listen to my protestations.'"
"Pish-Tush: 'It is true that Ko-Ko was condemned to death for flirting...
...but he was reprieved at the last moment...
...and raised to the exalted rank of Lord High Executioner...
...under the following remarkable circumstances.'"
"Song, Pish-Tush."
"'Our great Mikado, virtuous man,
When he to rule our land began
Resolved to try a plan whereby
Young men might best be steadied.'"
"'So he decreed in words succinct
That all who flirted, leered or winked
Unless connubially linked
Should forthwith be beheaded.'"
"'And I expect you'll all agree That he was right to so decree.'"
"'And I am right, and you are right,
And all is right as right can be.'"
"'This stern decree, you'll understand,
Caused great dismay throughout the land,
For young and old and shy and bold
Were equally affected.'"
"'The youth who winked a roving eye
Or breathed a non-connubial sigh
Was thereupon condemned to die.'"
"'He usually objected.'"
"'And you'll allow, as I expect, That he was right to so object,
And I am right, and you are right
And everything is quite correct.'"
"'And so we straight let out on bail
A convict from the county jail
Whose head was next on some pretext, Condemn-ed to be mown off,
And made him Headsman, for we said:
Who's next to be decapit-ed
Cannot cut off another's head Until he's cut his own off.'"
"'And we are right, I think you'll say, To argue in this kind of way,
And I am right, and you are right,
And all is right - too-loorallay!'"
"Chorus. End of song."
Highly amusing, Willie.
- Fatuous. - Oh.
Surely Arthur likes it?
He hasn't said otherwise.
It certainly is rich in human emotion and probability.
Hardly.
"Enter Pooh-Bah."
- It's a tragedy. - It is.
Che bruto.
Absolutely. He simply hasn't played with a straight bat.
- Who's that? - His Majesty the Mahdi.
- Oh, yes. - No, it just isn't cricket.
Quite so. It's completely contrary to the rules of engagement.
The man was surrounded on all sides and massacred mercilessly.
"What full fortune doth the thick lips owe."
- What does that mean? - Philistine.
It baffles me that you're baffled, Barrington.
The Hottentot in the desert doesn't play cricket.
His natural habitation being the jungly-bungly tree...
...he is as yet hardly able to walk upright, don't you know?
We strive to bring them civilisation...
...and this is their gratitude.
Did you know that 56 families were slaughtered on the Island of Skye?
- Really? When was that? - In '82, I think.
And who perpetrated the outrage, pray?
- Oh, merely the, er... English militia. - Extraordinary.
Buon appetito.
Shall we indulge in another dozen?
- I rather think we ought, don't you? - I think we might.
- Would you care for a second fish, Lely? - No.
Or a veritable shoal, perhaps?
I've had an ample sufficiency, thank you, my wee man.
I have an appointment with Carte this afternoon.
- At what hour? - Five o'clock.
Curious. I shall be with him at half past four.
That's funny. I don't have a meeting with him at four o'clock.
And it is my firm intention to prise open his purse.
It will take a far stronger man than you, Mr Barrington...
...to fulfil that Herculean labour.
What's "your" mission, Captain Grossmith?
Oh, there are certain little matters.
I should like to offer you an increase in salary.
- Oh? Indeed? - Indeed.
- That's most benevolent of you. - It's no less than you deserve.
Thank you. And by how much, might one enquire?
By 7 1/2 per cent.
Mm.
7 1/2.
Now, that would work out at, er...
- £30 per week. - 30! Mm.
I see. Well, £30 per week wasn't quite the sum I had in mind...
...as I wended my weary way here.
Indeed?
That would be three productions with a negligible increase.
I don't consider an increase of two pounds per week...
...over 12 months negligible, George.
One might have thought the name of George Grossmith...
...my not inconsiderable contribution...
...would have been more favourably recognised.
You do receive considerably more than anyone else.
- Do I? - Mm.
We should be terribly sorry to lose you.
Gilbert has written you a particularly fine part in the new piece.
Precisely! As one would expect.
However, I should judge an increase of a paltry two pound per week...
...to be wholly unacceptable.
Not to mention mildly insulting, if one may say so.
And what figure had you in mind, Mr Grossmith?
Er...
Forgive me, I seem to have lost my train of thought.
Are you unwell, George?
I fear I may have come over a bit queer.
- Most embarrassing. - You must take a little brandy.
A little water clears us of this deed.
I blame Grossmith for this.
- Only Grossmith? - Thank you, Helen.
Confounded glutton.
- Are you feeling better? - I do beg your pardon.
- This is awfully embarrassing. - Not at all, Rutty.
Now why don't we return to the subject of your salary?
Oh, yes.
Well, I must declare that I'm rather at a loss for words, D'Oyly.
- Excuse me.
Oh, I do beg your pardon.
This is a bally nightmare, damn it!
I shall be in my dressing room!
The more I see of men, the more I admire dogs.
I'm soon to have a meeting...
...concerning the cast for the next opera. - Yes, indeed.
I've heard a little rumour that I might be playing the part...
...of a 14-year-old schoolgirl. - Somebody's been telling tales.
They have indeed, Mr Carte!
Mr Gilbert will be very angry.
With reference to your engagement for the opera...
...I have a great concern about your little weakness.
I'm a little shocked, Mr Carte.
I really do believe that my behaviour this last year has been exemplary.
I'm pleased to say your tendency has improved...
...but I am concerned about the future.
Yes. You're perhaps suggesting, Mr Carte...
...that I shan't be performing in the next production.
Yes, I'm afraid I am.
But the outcome of that, Leonora, is in your own hands.
Sometimes, Mr Carte, I can be a very silly young woman.
You have an extraordinary talent.
It saddens me beyond measure to see someone throw it away.
I assure you, Mr Carte, that I shall be in tiptop form.
I'm very pleased to hear that.
Much relieved.
Do we have an understanding?
Yes, we do, Mr Carte.
Good.
# Charlie, Charlie
# War would not follow thee
# King of the Highland hearts
# Bonnie Prince Charlie
- Chop chop, Butt! How long do we have?
- Eight minutes, Mr Temple. - Oh, jolly good.
- Shocking news from Khartoum. - Indeed.
Something will have to be done, tout de suite.
Absolutely.
Mrs Temple hit the nail on the head, as per usual.
Oh? What did she say?
"The nation loses a hero, but the family loses a loved one."
- Ooh, how apt. - Perspicacious woman is Mrs Temple.
Hat!
Consider this, my dear Butt.
Is it not the inevitable fate of the professional soldier...
...that he may perish in battle? - Indeed, sir.
But Dickie, have you heard the "real" news of the day?
Yes, the Fenian bomb. Oh, dreadful.
No, Grossmith and Barrington.
- What? - They're off tonight.
- Both of them? - Yes.
- Why? - Oysters.
- We shared luncheon. - Did you swallow?
- No. I had sole. - Off the bone?
- Yes. It was rather succulent. - Wise man. Oysters can kill.
Unquestionably!
My aunt choked on a scallop at Herne Bay.
- Really? - Tragic.
Yes, they were away to see Carte.
- Oh, really? - Mm.
- Will you be lobbying? - No, I'll wait for my summons.
Quite right, dear boy.
One should not be rewarded on one's ability...
...to ingratiate oneself with the management.
Particularly when the management have difficulty...
...locating the whereabouts of the arse and the elbow!
Serves them both right.
Enter!
Five minutes, please, Mr Temple, Mr Lely.
- Thank you, Shrimp! - Merci, Crevette!
One, two, three, four.
# And so, although I'm ready to go
- # Yet recollect... - Dolce!
- # Did I neglect to thus effect... - Expansive!
- # So I object - Good!
- # And so, although - Rutty, temper your volume, please.
- # And greatly pine to brightly shine - And now!
# With grief condign I must decline
# And go and show both friend and foe
# How much you dare, I'm quite aware
# It's your affair yet I declare
# I'd take your share but I don't
Bovill, that's very good, but...
...I've gone to great pain to provide you with triplets.
- Triplets, Sir Arthur, yes. - On his salary!
- Rutty, please. - Apology.
Consequently, if you would be so kind as to trip.
- Of course, Sir Arthur. - One, two, three, four!
# And go and show both friend and foe
# How much you dare, I'm quite aware
# It's your affair yet I declare
# I'd take your share but I don't much care
- Very much better. - Thank you, Sir Arthur.
- The new man's doing awfully well. - Quite splendid.
Breathe, Bovill, breathe!
- It's "piano", Barrington, "piano". - I'll do my best.
- As many P's as you can muster, Rutland. - Without landing us in the soup!
One, two, three, four!
# And go and show both friend and foe
# How much you dare, I'm quite aware
# It's your affair yet I declare
# I'd take your share but I don't
And going on!
- # I must decline - # So I object
- # I'd take your share - # So I object
# To sit in solemn silence in a...
Gentlemen. "Un poco piú viva", hm?
Now, before the double-bar line, it's one, two, three, four.
And afterwards, one, two, three, four.
- Clear? - Very quiet.
From here, please. One, two, three, four.
# Care, I don't much care, I don't much care
# To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark dock
# In a pestilential prison with a lifelong lock
# Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock
# From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big, black block
# To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark dock
# In a pestilential prison with a lifelong lock
# Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock
# From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big, black block
# A dull, dark dock
# A lifelong lock
# A short, sharp shock
# A big, black block
# To sit in solemn silence in a pestilential prison
# And awaiting the sensation from a cheap and chippy chopper
# On a big
# Black
# Block
- Bravo! - Splendid!
Louis! "Wir brauchen etwas Kaffee!"
Your coffee is ready, Sir Arthur.
- My word! - First rate.
- Rutty, do go through. - Thanks, old chap.