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第67章

the complete plays-第67章

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RICH。                    Slight little…

ROSE。                    Light little…

BOTH。               Trim little; prim little craft!



CHORUS。        For she is such a smart little craft; etc。



                                          (Exeunt all but Robin。)



     ROB。  For a week I have fulfilled my accursed doom!  I have

duly committed a crime a day!  Not a great crime; I trust; but

still; in the eyes of one as strictly regulated as I used to be;

a crime。  But will my ghostly ancestors be satisfied with what I

have done; or will they regard it as an unworthy subterfuge?

(Addressing Pictures。)  Oh; my forefathers; wallowers in blood;

there came at last a day when; sick of crime; you; each and

every; vowed to sin no more; and so; in agony; called welcome

Death to free you from your cloying guiltiness。  Let the sweet

psalm of that repentant hour soften your long…dead hearts; and

tune your souls to mercy on your poor posterity!  (Kneeling)。 



(The stage darkens for a moment。  It becomes light again; and the

     Pictures are seen to have become animated。)



                      CHORUS OF FAMILY PORTRAITS。



               Painted emblems of a race;

                    All accurst in days of yore;

               Each from his accustomed place

                    Steps into the world once more。



(The Pictures step from their frames and march round the stage。)



               Baronet of Ruddigore;

                    Last of our accursed line;

               Down upon the oaken floor

                    Down upon those knees of thine。



                    Coward; poltroon; shaker; squeamer;

                    Blockhead; sluggard; dullard; dreamer;

                    Shirker; shuffler; crawler; creeper;

                    Sniffler; snuffler; wailer; weeper;

                    Earthworm; maggot; tadpole; weevil!

                    Set upon thy course of evil;

                    Lest the King of Spectre…land

                    Set on thee his grisly hand!



      (The Spectre of Sir Roderic descends from his frame。)



SIR ROD。       Beware! beware! beware!

ROB。                Gaunt vision; who art thou

               That thus; with icy glare

                    And stern relentless brow;

                    Appearest; who knows how?



SIR ROD。       I am the spectre of the late

                    Sir Roderic Murgatroyd;

               Who comes to warn thee that thy fate

                    Thou canst not now avoid。



ROB。           Alas; poor ghost!



SIR ROD。                      The pity you

                    Express for nothing goes:

               We spectres are a jollier crew

                    Than you; perhaps; suppose!



CHORUS。        We spectres are a jollier crew

                    Than you; perhaps; suppose!



                          SONGSIR RODERIC。



When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls; and the bat in

     the moonlight flies;

And inky clouds; like funeral shrouds; sail over the midnight

     skies

When the footpads quail at the night…bird's wail; and black dogs

     bay at the moon;

Then is the spectres' holidaythen is the ghosts' high…noon!



CHORUS。                  Ha! ha!

               Then is the ghosts' high…noon!



As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees; and the mists lie

     low on the fen;

From grey tomb…stones are gathered the bones that once were women

     and men;

And away they go; with a mop and a mow; to the revel that ends

     too soon;

For cockcrow limits our holidaythe dead of the night's

     high…noon!



CHORUS。                  Ha! ha!

               The dead of the night's high…noon!



And then each ghost with his ladye…toast to their churchyard beds

     takes flight; 

With a kiss; perhaps; on her lantern chaps; and a grisly grim

     〃good…night〃;

Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth its

     jolliest tune;

And ushers in our next high holidaythe dead of the night's

     high…noon!



CHORUS。                  Ha! ha!

               The dead of the night's high…noon!

                    Ha! ha! ha! ha!



     ROB。  I recognize you nowyou are the picture that hangs at

the end of the gallery。

     SIR ROD。  In a bad light。  I am。

     ROB。  Are you considered a good likeness?

     SIR ROD。  Pretty well。  Flattering。

     ROB。  Because as a work of art you are poor。

     SIR ROD。  I am crude in colour; but I have only been painted

ten years。  In a couple of centuries I shall be an Old Master;

and then you will be sorry you spoke lightly of me。

     ROB。  And may I ask why you have left your frames?

     SIR ROD。  It is our duty to see that our successors commit

their daily crimes in a conscientious and workmanlike fashion。 

It is our duty to remind you that you are evading the conditions

under which you are permitted to exist。

     ROB。  Really; I don't know what you'd have。  I've only been

a bad baronet a week; and I've committed a crime punctually every

day。

     SIR ROD。  Let us inquire into this。  Monday?

     ROB。  Monday was a Bank Holiday。

     SIR ROD。  True。  Tuesday?

     ROB。  On Tuesday I made a false income…tax return。

     ALL。  Ha! ha!

     1ST GHOST。  That's nothing。

     2ND GHOST。  Nothing at all。

     3RD GHOST。  Everybody does that。

     4TH GHOST。  It's expected of you。

     SIR ROD。  Wednesday?

     ROB。  (melodramatically)。  On Wednesday I forged a will。

     SIR ROD。  Whose will?

     ROB。  My own。

     SIR ROD。  My good sir; you can't forge your own will!

     ROB。  Can't I; though! I like that!  I did!  Besides; if a

man can't forge his own will; whose will can he forge?

     1ST GHOST。  There's something in that。

     2ND GHOST。  Yes; it seems reasonable。

     3RD GHOST。  At first sight it does。

     4TH GHOST。  Fallacy somewhere; I fancy!

     ROB。  A man can do what he likes with his own!

     SIR ROD。  I suppose he can。

     ROB。  Well; then; he can forge his own will; stoopid!  On

Thursday I shot a fox。

     1ST GHOST。  Hear; hear!

     SIR ROD。  That's better (addressing Ghosts)。  Pass the fox;

I think?  (They assent。)  Yes; pass the fox。  Friday?

     ROB。  On Friday I forged a cheque。

     SIR ROD。  Whose cheque?

     ROB。  Old Adam's。

     SIR ROD。  But Old Adam hasn't a banker。

     ROB。  I didn't say I forged his bankerI said I forged his

cheque。  On Saturday I disinherited my only son。

     SIR ROD。  But you haven't got a son。

     ROB。  Nonot yet。  I disinherited him in advance; to save

time。  You seeby this arrangementhe'll be born ready

disinherited。

     SIR ROD。  I see。  But I don't think you can do that。

     ROB。  My good sir; if I can't disinherit my own unborn son;

whose unborn son can I disinherit?

     SIR ROD。  Humph!  These arguments sound very well; but I

can't help thinking that; if they were reduced to syllogistic

form; they wouldn't hold water。  Now quite understand us。  We are

foggy; but we don't permit our fogginess to be presumed upon。 

Unless you undertake towell; suppose we say; carry off a lady? 

(Addressing Ghosts。)  Those who are in favour of his carrying off

a lady?  (All hold up their hands except a Bishop。)  Those of the

contrary opinion?  (Bishop holds up his hands。)  Oh; you're never

satisfied!  Yes; unless you undertake to carry off a lady at

onceI don't care what ladyany ladychoose your ladyyou

perish in inconceivable agonies。

     ROB。  Carry off a lady?  Certainly not; on any account。 

I've the greatest respect for ladies; and I wouldn't do anything

of the kind for worlds!  No; no。  I'm not that kind of baronet; I

assure you!  If that's all you've got to say; you'd better go

back to your frames。

     SIR ROD。  Very goodthen let the agonies commence。



       (Ghosts make passes。  Robin begins to writhe in agony。)



     ROB。  Oh! Oh!  Don't do that!  I can't stand it!

     SIR ROD。  Painful; isn't it?  It gets worse by degrees。

     ROB。  OhOh!  Stop a bit!  Stop it; will you?  I want to

speak。



   (Sir Roderic makes signs to Ghosts; who resume their attitudes。)



     SIR ROD。  Better?

     ROB。  Yesbetter now!  Whew!

     SIR ROD。  Well; do you consent?

     ROB。  But it's such an ungentlemanly thing to do!

     SIR ROD。  As you please。  (To Ghosts。)  Carry on!

     ROB。  StopI can't stand it!  I agree!  I promise!  It

shall be done!

     SIR ROD。  To…day?

     ROB。  To…day!

     SIR ROD。  At once?

     ROB。  At once!  I retract!  I apologize!  I had no idea it

was anything like that!



                              CHORUS。



               He yields!  He answers to our call!

                    We do not ask for more。

               A sturdy fellow; after all;

                    This latest Ruddigore!

               All perish in unheard…of woe

                    Who dare our wills defy;

               We want your pardon; ere we go;

               For having agonized you so

                    So pardon us

                    So pardon us

                    So pardon us

                                   Or die!



ROB。                I pardon you!

                    I pardon you!



ALL。                He pardons us…

                                   Hurrah!



              (The Ghosts return to their frames。)



CHORUS。        Painted emblems of a race;

                    All accurst in days of yore;

               Each to his accustomed place

                    Steps unwillingly once more!



(By this time the Ghosts have changed to pictures again。  Robin

     is overcome by emotion。)



                         (Enter Adam。)



     ADAM。  My poor master; you are not well

     ROB。  Old Adam; it won't doI've seen 'emall my

ancestorsthey're just gone。  They say that I must do something

desperate at once; or perish in horrible agonies。  Gogo to

yonder villagecarry off a maidenbring her here at onceany

oneI don't care which

     ADAM。  But

     ROB。  Not a word; but obey! Fly!

                                                    (Exeunt Adam)



                      RECIT。 and SONGROBIN。



Away; Remorse!

          Compunction; hence!。

Go; Moral Force!

          Go; Penitence!

To Virtue's plea

          A long farewell

Propriety;

          I ring your knell!

Come; guiltiness of deadliest hue!

Come; desperate deeds of derring…do!



Henceforth all the crimes that I find in the Times。

     I've promised to perpetrate daily;

To…morrow I start with a petrified heart;

     On a regular course of Old Bailey。

There's confidence tricking; bad coin; pocket…picking;

     And several other disgraces

There's postage…stamp prigging; and then thimble…rigging;

     The three…card delusion at races!

Oh!  A baronet's rank is exceedingly nice;

But

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