La Fille de Madame AngÔt.
Jas. Miller & Co., General Machine Printers Sydney: 78 Clarence Street.
1885.Dramatis Personæ.
Madlle. Lange.—Actress and favourite of Barras.
Clairette Angôt.—Betrothed to Pomponnet.
Larivaudiere.—Friend of Barras, and conspiring against the Republic.
Pomponnet.—Barber of the Market, and Hairdresser of Madlle. Lange.
Ange Pitou.—A Poet in love with Clairette.
Louchard.—Police Officer at the orders of Larivaudière.
Amarante. Market Women.
Javotte. Market Women.
Hersilie.—Servant of Madlle. Lange.
Trenitz.—Dandy of the period, Officer of the Hussars,
Babet.—Clairettc's servant.
Cadet Market Men.
Guillaume Market Men.
Buteux Market Men.
Market Men and Women. People, Citizens, Ladies, Hussars, Soldiers, etc.
La Fille de Madame Ancôt.
Act I.
Street in Old Paris.
Chorus of Market Men and Women.
Chorus.
Pom. (outside)
Cho.
Pom.
Cho. (looking off R.)
Bab.
Cho.
Bab.
Cho.
Hand in hand, here we're meeting,
Blessings rare
We wish the happy pair.
Hallo ! Pomponnet!
Fine at both ends.
Clairette !
A bride must wear on wedding day.
She must wear on her wedding day.
(Enter Pomponnet.)
Pom.
'Tis for me,
Pomponnet,
She wears this wreath so gay.
Song.
Pom.
Cho.
Bab.
Pom.
Cho.
Of this wreath so sweet and fair;
You may look, but must not dare pull.
E'en one leaf or blossom there.
I alone, am its sole owner.
Yes, 'tis mine, you understand,
And to-night I'll have the honour
To undo it with this hand.
Ah!
page 4
When I think on't, when I think on't,
How I shake from top to toe,
My wedding-day I'm on the brink on't,
What I feel you ne'er can know.
How he shakes from top to toe !
His wedding day lie's on the brink on't,
What he feels none e'er can know.
(Minuet Chorus, during which Clairette enters from House L. in Bridal Costume.)
Cho.
Model of innocence,
See her there !
Beauty e'en unadorned
By no means should be scorned,
But by such splendour warned
We hail her, doubly fair.
Chorus of Women.
Come kiss me for your mother !
Chorus of Men
Pom.
Clair.
Cadet.
Javotte.
Clair.
Cho.
Clair.
Come hug me for your brother !
You'd better kiss no one but me.
What think you of your wedding-morning?
Make no delay.
Romance.
Clair.
Cho.
Pom.
Clair.
Cho.
Pom.
Buteux.
Cadet.
Pom.
Cho.
And when you tell me that wed I must be,
Bright be my future fortune, or dark; it
Rests with you now, I'm obedient you see.
Still, I don't know what I'm vowing and swearing.
No more than a salmon, or basket of greens,
For what wedlock is. Now don't all be staring,
I don't know—on my word—in the least what it means.
page 5
You have been parents and guardians to me;
And I've believed what you've always asserted
That parents should order and children obey.
Marriage is pleasant, you always are saying,
To all young girls who are out of their teens;
And I'd content be, since now 'tis past praying,
If I but knew, only knew, what it means.
Indeed you know, the truth I'm stating,
For an hour he'll not be there.
For every moment seems a day;
So let us haste, and have it o'er,
My trembling heart can bear no more.
His trembling heart can bear no more.
Hand-in-hand, gaily greeting,
Hand-in-hand, here we're meeting.
Blessings rare
We wish the happy pair.
(Enter Amaranthe, running.)
(Legend of Madame Angôt.)
A fishwife bold and trusty,
For reasons big us plums
'Gainst her none e'er ran rusty
In market, street, or slums.
When she got in a passion,
And whether right or wrong,
With fist on hip, so fashion—
Her arguments were strong.
Plump and pretty,
Rough and ready,
Lots of spirit she could show;
Joking, smiling,
Sport ne'er spiling,
A rare good sort was Ma'am Angôt.
Chorus.
page 6
Once up in a balloon, boys,
She sailed upon the breeze,
Got safely down, and soon boys
She dared the raging seas;
Ta'en captive in far Malabar,
Fat, fair, and forty she,
They took her for a widow there,
And got up a "Suttee."
Fair and forty,
Stout and hearty,
Tempest, faggot, friend, or foe;
Rude wave? dashing,
Lightning flashing,
Nothing daunted Ma'am Angôt.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Through all her life a rover,
Of sweethearts she'd a score;
But Turkey gave a lover
Was worth them all, and more.
The Sultan, who'd five hundred wives
In sere and yellow leaf,
Cut off their whole five hundred lives,
And flung her his handkerchief.
(Rondo—Ange Pitou.)
Yes : certainly I love Clairetta;
But should I therefore die of grief,
When some other girl, both young and pretty,
Unto my heart may bring relief.
This little note so sweet and pressing,
In style quite worthy of a Queen,
A passion most sincere expressing,
Perfume breathes its folds between.
Yes; certainly I loved Clairetta,
'Tis she, not I, forgets her vows,
And though at first I may regret her
I'll find myself another spouse.
T'other was lovely, there's no denying,
For without beauty there's no power,
So I conclude 'tis worth the trying;
I burn to meet this beauteous flower.
Yes : certainly I loved Clairetta,
But she may wedded be to-day,
page 7
And so 'tis easy to forgot her
Since she herself lias led the way;
Besides, the unknown, the uncertain
Has for me a charm divine,
So to my first intent reverting,
This unknown fair one shall be mine.
But, still I think I love Clairetta,
Although she's false to me to-day,
And we shall see who'll get the better
When she is Madame Pomponnet.
Who's here, I wonder?
Duet.
Ange Pitout and Clair.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Together let us seek the way—
Your mother, dear, would have preferred to—
We'll find it out this very day.
A due.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Madam Angôt would never have done so.
Suppose I kill your future spouse.
A due.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair. (a due.)
Ange Pitou (a due.) (Solo)
Clair (solo.)
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Madam Angôt would never have done so.
Renounce my hand this very day !
Or you may find that with my true Love
I might perchance prove falso to you. Love!
But talked about by none.
We're done for I fear !
If nought turn up to set me free;
When the Mayor makes the demand
"Say, will you give this man your hand?"
Instead of "Yes" I'll answer "No."
page 8
One sweet kiss, just for pity.
My bridal wreath you might displace.
I ask you now, on bended knee,
Clairette, grant me this favour sweet,
Or I die—Here at your feet.
I must go, or else they'll miss me.
Oh; you'll be my ruin now (he kisses her.)
Ah ! what are you doing now ?
Never fear, no one will miss you;
Quite wrong you arc construing now
What I would bo doing now.
One sweet foretaste of our bliss,
Clairette!
(a due)
Ange Pitou (a due.)
You will be my ruin now.
Ah ! what are you doing now?
Don't blame what I am doing now (kisses her.)
Duet.
Ange Pitou
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou.
Lar.
Ange Pitou and Larivandiere.
That you ill person should be here.
Don't you feel it rather queer ?
page 9
Will you help me at my need sir,
And just change in your clever song
Larivaudiére to Lavaujon.
A thousand crowns I'll freely spend.
'Tis a fortune for Clariette!
Why Pomponnet she'd quite forget.
Come, come, don't count the cost,
Ten thousand.
Say thirty thousand told.
Come, d'ye say Done!"
But you must pay me on the nail.
With Clairette I'll gaily spend it.
For in Paris all's for sale
If you can pay down on the nail;
Easy way to end all bother,
Swap one surname for another,
And just change in my little song
Larivaudière to Lavaujon.
page 10
He may gaily go and spend it,
For in Paris all's for sale
If you can pay down on the nail.
Easy way my fault to smother,
Swap one surname for another,
And just change in a little song
Larivaudière to Lavaujon.
(Exit Larivaudiere.)
Finale.—Chorus of Citizens.
You said you'd sing a song,
Hot, and fierce, and strong
Come, begin at once, or dread our anger,
Come, eome, now don't be long,
We'll have it right or wrong;
You promised us a song, you did,
So come begin, do as you're bid,
Sing us the song,
Don't be so long.
(Re-enter the Market People.)
Market People.
Citizens.
Market People.
Citizens.
A Nondescript.
Clair. (at the window.)
Citizens.
Clair. (coming forward)
Pom.
Clair.
Cho.
Pom.
Cadet (furious).
Cho.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
What's this rout?
What's about?
A lout! a lout! a dirty lying lout!
I'll work it out,
For singing treason they'll nab one, no doubt.
So let him sing it quick;
Come, don't be long,
Or we will break your neck.
Sing the song,
Don't be long,
You said you'd sing a song,
Both hot, and fierce, and strong;
Come, begin at once, or dread our anger,
Come, come, now don't be long,
Well have it right or wring.
page 11
You promised us a song, you did.
So come begin, do as you're bid,
Sing us the song,
Don't be so long.
I picked up as it in the gutter lay;
I can sing it every line,
Indeed it's monstrous line.
Her voice all through the dirty gutters ringing;
Yet I'd like to hear the song.
Come listen all to this fine song.
Political Song.
Clair.
Chorus.
They presents gave both rich and rare
To all their fav'rites of the hour,
Both male and female, dark and fair.
Republics now are all the go,
Yet things are no better as they are,
For Ma'amselle Lange, as we all know
Is the fav'rite Sultana of Barras.
He is our King, and she is our Queen,
And I don't think we've altered our case at all,
For no better off the people's been,
The Rich still push us to the wall.
(Louchard appears, listening at back.)
Clair.
Chorus.
Our kings they did it ev'ry day,
And Barras lets Larivaudière
Our pockets pick his debts to pay;
Thus you see things are the same,
Whether Royalty be up or down,
Nought is changed except the name,
Our Monarch reigns without his crown.
He is our King, &c. (Louchard exit.)
(Re-enter Louchard, with Soldiers)
Lou. (to Soldiers.)
Cho.
Ange Pitou.
Cho.
Pom.
Ange Pitou.
Pom.
Cho.
Clair
Cho.
You do it at your peril,
The song I say is mine.
We'll murder you as you stand there.
T' arrest her on our wedding-day.
Pris'ner on her wedding-day;
Clairette shall not be forsaken,
Nor a captive made, we say.
Than remain here free to-day,
For while in prison I am quaking,
I can't wed little Pomponnet.
She must wed Pomponnet.
End of Act.
Act II.
Saloon in the house of Mdlle. Lange—brilliantly illuminated.
Mddles. Delaunay, Cydalise. Madame Herbelin, and others all dressed in the most exaggerated fashion of the period (Merveilleuses) and Larivaudiere.
Chorus of Merveilleuses.
No! we really cannot believe it,
Our minds will not receive it,
This story you tell is so strange;
Though we read it in the papers—
Such scandal, such dreadful capers,
Sure the world must be going to change.
Song and Chorus.
Lange.
Cho.
Lange.
Cho.
Lange. Cho.
page 13
We by the nose lead them along;
For we can coax and charm them still.
And make them do just as we will.
A soldier is just like a stupid bird—
All fuss and feathers, trained and spurred;
He thinks he knows a thing or two,
We'll show him that we do.
In woman's weakness lies her power,
The weapons that we prize
They flash from out our eyes;
And 'neath that flery shower
The strong man faints and dies.
At the glance of our eyes
He faints and dies.
And for flirting:
And though we're weak and they are strong
We by the nose lead them along;
For we can coax and charm them still.
And make them do just as we will.
The conqueror of Barbary.
He shall not make us fear
Tho' he took Aboukir;
We, without danger vict'ry gaining,
Our conquests have secured
By Smile and glance and word;
Much greater end? obtaining
Than he does by the sword.
Romance.
Pom.
That she scarce knows what she should say,
And in her childish simple play
She's ignorant of ev'ry danger.
In this our Land of Liberty
She told the truth, and so you see
How very simple she must be;
Yes; she's to Liberty a stranger,
She is so innocent of evil,
That e'en the powerful she would chaff,
And meaning not to be uncivil,
'Gainst e'en the highest raise a laugh
page 14
And with a song so light and gay
She'd sing our characters away,
And all in simple childish play
She's to society a stranger.
Duet.—Clair and Lange.
Clair. & Lange.
Lange. (solo.)
Clair. (solo.)
Lange. (solo.)
When we sweetly lisped "Mamma," "Papa;"
When all our cares our mother mild would
Soothe, and teach us B A, ba.
Those days have vanished far away—
Ah! why could they no longer stay?
You told me all your life's strange story;
And, on the sly, we turned it to a play,
And acted it in solitary glory ?
We pattered long ere we could walk,
And innocently swore and cursed,
And of market slang we used the worst.
Safely assert we learned the first.
A due.
Lange. (solo.)
Clair. (solo.)
Lange.
Oh! happy, happy days, &c.
What things they write and sing of me.
'Twas I who said such things of thee.
But in old times long ago
I'd have done a little snarling,
In the style of Ma'am Angôt.
(Sticks her arms akimbo, and, assumes the manner of a fish fag.)
Let me alone,
Clair.
Lange.
Clair.
Lange.
Ma'am'selle Suzon.
If you address me in that tone
I'll make you groan, and sigh, and moan,
For I'll demolish your chignon.
See this pink of virtue rare,
with her arms and legs all bare;
page 15
Sure it must be Venus fair,
Dressed in nothing but her hair,
Come from ocean's ebb and flow,
Just to make a good scare-crow.
And the tone of your so-called best society.
A due.
Clair.
Lange.
Ah ! at school we lasses learnt a lot
Of curious things each day;
But whether from our books or not
I'd hardly dare to say;
And indeed no girls are fools
Who have studied in good schools.
A due.
For our school days—hurrah !
Couplets.
Lange and Ange Pitou.
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
It's very best friends must allow it;
But you may find out before long
That you blame it because you don't know it.
The Republic may not have an air
So soft, so alluring as mine.
With the grace that distinguishes thine.
Not even to recognise merit;
And tho' you will not own it. I fear,
The Republic admires your spirit.
The Government loves a brave man
Who points out its faults without shrinking.
I'm of you, not of politics, thinking.
Quintette.
Lariv.
Louch.
Lariv.
Louch.
Lange.
Clair.
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
Lariv.
Louch.
Lariv.
Clair.
Lange (to Lariv.)
Lariv.
Clair.
Lange.
Louch.
Lariv.
Ange Pitou.
Lange (aside.)
Lariv.
Ange Pitou.
Louch.
Clair
Lange.
A. Pitou
Lariv.
Louch.
page 16
'Twas tor her
This gentleman did on us call.
Ugh! you horrid bear,
How you stare,
For ladies' nerves you little care.
That Pitou came in here to see;
But still the fear that he was faithless
Made me quite uneasy be.
But t'other whom he came to see;
Yes! yes! you horrid growling bear,
For ladies' nerves you little care.
That I was hither brought to see,
So from temptation I will flee,
Or lost I'll surely be.
That this fellow came to see.
That this fellow came to see.
And you deceive me still?
Can you distrust my sincerity ?
'Tis this young man you love?
That I love but him.
The blush would come, but what matter!
Was it love for Clairette did you send here?
I came for her and her alone.
Oh ! Fie ! fie !
page 17
I never heard before,
And though doubts may be rising
They'll act on them no more.
I never heard before,
And tho' doubts may be rising
They'll act on them no more.
I never told before,
And tho' doubt? may be rising
They'll act on them no more.
I never heard before,
And tho' doubts may be rising
I'll act on them no more.
I never heard before,
And tho' doubts may be rising
He'll act on them no more.
Lariv.(to Louchard.)
Lough.
Lariv.
Lough. (recollecting himself.)
Lange
Clair.
A. Pitou
Lariv.
Louch.
Though to my eyes all things do change;
Yet still I think.
Is of virtue the pink !
I'm an angel, good as gohd,
So you see ev'ry one knows it,
And my wings I'll soon untold.
She's an angel, good as gold.
Ye? ! indeed ev'ry one knows it,
And her wings she'll soon unfold.
page 18
She's an angel, good as gold.
Yes ! indeed ev'ry one knows it,
And her wings she'll soon unfold.
She's an angel good as gold.
Yes ! indeed ev'ry one knows it,
And her wings she'll soon untold.
She's an angel, good as gold.
Yes I indeed ev'ry one knows it
And her wings she'll soon unfold.
Enter Trenitz and Conspirators.
Lange.
Tren.
Ange Pitou.
Lange.
Tren.
Omnes.
Clair. (enters.)
Omnes.
Lange.
Clair.
Omnes.
Tren.
Lange.
Tren.
Omnes.
Finale.
Chorus of Conspirators.
When we Conspirators would be,
And turn the world topsy-turvee,
Each one must wear beneath his hat
A fair-haired wig, and black cravat.
We ah not afwaid of meeting
A wegiment—we would not feah to face.
I but present you a recruit,
The singer whom you've heard about;
Who, in the street, does every day
'Gainst wealth and power still raise his lay.
A fair-haiwed wig and bwack cwavat.
A fair-haired wig and black cravat.
From my casement clear
Fierce soldiers do appear.
They're coming near—
Augereau's soldiers now are here.
page 19
Fly from here, fly from here!
The house is quite surrounded,
And we are all impounded.
To surprise these soldiers rough and hearty,
We'll improvise a wedding party.
Here's the Bridegroom and the fair Bride—
But all these wigs of yellow hair
And black cravats that you all wear—
Bah! Theah goes wig and yellow haiah,
My black cwavat will follow—Theah!
Our black cravats must follow—there!
(knocks outside.)
Lange. (speaking)
Lange, presenting her hand to Trenitz and Valsing.
Dancing, glancing,
All delight enhancing.
Oh! what pleasure,
Beyond measure,
Sweeter far than power or treasure.
Chorus of Ladies.
Dancing, glancing,
All delight enhancing.
Oh ! what pleasure,
Beyond measure,
Sweeter far than gold or power.
Full Chorus.
Dancing, glancing,
All delight enhancing.
Oh ! what pleasure,
Beyond measure,
Sweeter far than gold or power. Tra, la!
(enter soldiers.)
Lange.
Officer.
Lange.
page 20
The traitors you fear
Shall appear.
They are here.
(pointing to Clairette and Pitou.)
A wedding party is here assembled;
And tho' not invited, still welcome you'll be.
But tho' at your valour Egyptians have trembled,
You'll not find Parisians so weak in the knee.
Stay then, stay,
We heartily pray!
Mirth, feasting and pleasure's tho order of the day.
Happy we'll be,
For pleasure is free;
And you, Mister Officer, shall dance with me.
Around we'll spin.
See who will win—yes !
Dancing, &c.
Chorus. Dancing, &c.
Clair. (valsing with Pitou)
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Lange. (overhearing.)
Officer.
Lange.
Officer.
Lange. (aside)
Cho.
I swear that my hand shall be thine, only thine.
But avenged I will be.
End of Second Act.
Act III.
Gardens of Calypso.
All the Market People, &c.
Grand Dance "Fricassee."
Cho.
Cadet.
Amar.
Cadet.
Amar.
Clair.
Cho.
Clair.
Cho.
Lariv.
Pleasure now is all the go.
For we can see whene'er she passes,
'Tis Mademoiselle Angôt.
page 21
Who gave these gaudy things to you.
And brought me up nice and genteely,
And taught me still the truth to tell,
And I've obeyed you pretty well.
Whene'er I walked in square or street,
With eyes cast down each man I'd meet;
But, though I seem demure and quiet,
My nature impels me to noise and riot;
Yes! of Ma'am Angôt I'm the true daughter,
My blood can't run slow like cold water.
Look at me, and you'll know
That I'm Ma'am selle Angôt.
A husband worthy of affection.
But ah ! I loved another man.
I can't help that ! Can you ? who can?
So, as my love I could not smother,
And I could not wed the other,
I thought it much the better way
To go to gaol on my wedding-day.
For of Ma'am Angôt I'm the true daughter, &c.
(They jostle each other.)
Duet.
Lariv.
Pom.
A due.
Lariv.
Pom. (getting away from each other.)
What have I said?
A due.
Oh dear ! I fear that I am done for,
He'll surely find me out I fear;
Oh dear ! how queer—'twould be no fun, for
He's certainly a market rough.
(They put on a boastful air. and bully each other.)
page 22
Lariv.
Pom. (aside.) (Aloud.)
Lariv. (aside.) (Aloud)
Pom. (aside.) (Aloud)
Lariv.
Pom.
Lariv.
Of fistic science I can boast,
Blow me tight, will you fight?
Don't keep me here all night.
If you want a bellyful, put your dukes and perform.
(putting himself into shape) Come and take your gruel hot.
(starts to escape—his hat and wig falls off, leaving his head quite bald.)
Pom.
Lariv.
Pom.
Lariv.
Pom.
Lariv.
Pom.
A due.
Ha ! ha ! ha ! &c.
Just twig his ugly mug there.
Oh ! yes, I see his pug there !
He put me in a pretty fright.
Dressed up like that at night.
Ha ! ha ! ha ! &c.
Trio.
Clair.
Pom.
Lariv.
Clair.
Pom.
Clair.
Lariv.
Pom.
Clair. (a trè.)
Clair.
Pom.
Lariv.
Clair.
Lariv. (furiously.)
Pom.
Clair.
Lariv.
Pom.
Clair.
Pom.
Clair.
Lariv. (a tré.)
Lariv.
Clair.
Lariv.
Pom.
Clair. (giving him her hand.)
Pom.
Clair.
Lariv.
Clair.
Pom.
Lariv.
Clair.
Lariv. and Pom.
And charming I declare;
And as a friend I like him well,
But as a husband I do not care.
page 23
I'm going to faint away.
And my true love to betray.
This is the matter so mysterious
Which must be brought to light,
The affair so grave and serious
Which calls us here to-night.
An actress, young, clever, and fair—
Which they're telling ev'rywhere?
For Barras she made believe to care;
But was not true,
She tricked him too
For that old ass Larivaudière.
This fair lady did not stop there;
But for a third gallant so gay,
She humbugged old Larivaudière.
What is this I hear ?
And for the youthful lover here
She hoodwinks and deceives him.
I am going to faint away,
And my false love tempts away.
page 24
And very soon the quarry will fly. (looking off.)
Ah ! there below, can it be ? Sure 'tis he !
For to punish this false lover,
And my deep disgrace to cover,
I declare over and over (to Pomponnet)
I could almost marry you.
Come with mo,
You shall see
That I mean what I am saying,
And perhaps.
My brave chaps,
Into your hands I may be playing.
I desire
Vengeance dire,
All my blood is now on fire.
If she means what she is saying;
And perhaps, lucky chaps,
Into our hands she may be playing.
Here's my hand, understand
That for one thing we are praying.
We desire
Vengeance dire,
All our blood is now on fire.
(Eenter Ange Pitou.)
Finale.
Ange Pitou (reading lettter.)
Lange.
Ange Pitou (shewing letter.)
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
Lange. (a due)
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
Omnes.
Ange Pitou.
Clair. (appearing.)
Omnes.
To punish whom I ought to do my best,
I must confess—since there's no use in feigning,
My yielding heart, forgetting its disdaining,
Now humbly prays, to Belleville you will go
At nine to-night, at the Ball of Calypso;
There a fond and faithful damsel you will meet
Who treads all former quarrels 'neath her feet."
page 25
"I know I'm silly in yielding to passion
Without e'en hope or joy to cheer me on;
But then I love you with such adoration
That for me, without you, pleasure life has really none.
There is a place close by your gates, quite free from noise or city riot,
A little ball, select and quiet;
There you can go,
Incognito,
Dressed like a woman of the market
And we'll meet in groves so dark it
'Twill ne'er be known that we did so.
You whom this heart doth fondly cherish.
Yes; you alone decide my fate.
If you delay I'll surely perish,
And when you come 'twill be too late."
This meeting we shall rue now.
See you not 'tis ?
Who love, nay, who adore but thee,
And woe to him who shall my rival be.
Your secret's known,
To all the winds of Heaven 'tis blown.
That o'er he stand—
(Quarrel Scene.)
Clair. (to Lange.)
Cho.
Lange.
Lariv.
Lange.
Lariv.
Lange.
Cho.
Lariv.
Ange Pitou.
Who makes all this toil and trouble;
Tho' of lovers you have two,
One very old and one not new;
page 26
But it you had of beaux a score
I do believe you'd cry for more.
This one you're welcome for to hug
Since you're so taken with his mug,
Although he did belong to me,
Yet you may have him, do you see
I make you a present of this chap,
For I don't value him a rap.
One old, one middle-ged, and one a boy makes three.
So with your triple lovers may you happy be.
Could give it to her so;
True daughter of her mother,
Pitch in Ma'am'selle Angôt.
I'm really very much afraid
That for a lady, fine as she,
We arc not fit society.
Such choice and pretty flow'rs of speech
Are not in ev'rybody's reach.
So, in accomplishments so rare,
I'm sure with you I can't compare.
But, next time, if you'd keep your sweetheart,
Don't let him my features see;
Or you'll find 'twill be indeed hard
To keep him off from spooning me.
A nod's as good's a wink To a blind
horse, so they say;
So go home, and be wiser for another day.
Faithless woman, I know all;
But be sure, this very night
Vengeance on your heads shall fall.
All this riot
Will not mend affairs one bit.
Dry up talking,
Off be walking,
Or your head I'll surely split.
(Ensemble.)
Clair.
Lange.
Ange Pitou.
Pom.
Lariv.
Chor.
Clair.
Lange.
Clair.
Lange.
Lariv.
Clair.
Lange.
Omnes.
Pom. (seeing Clairette weep).
Clair.
Pom.
Omnes.
Clair.
Ange Pitou.
Clair.
Pom.
Omnes.
Ange Pitou.
Lange.
Pom.
Lange.
Clair.
Chorus and Characters.
Need not fear to
Of my lover me deprive;
For I tell you
Such a fellow
Oh ! my dear, I
Really fear I
Of your lover you deprive;
Such a fellow,
I must toll you,
Is not often met in life.
All this riot
Will not mend affairs one bit—
Dry up talking,
Off be walking,
Let them go it,
For I know it,
All their anger will have died
In a minute;
All this din it
Into silence will subside.
I am choking;
Tremble ! for I all do know.
Vengeance dread now,
On your head now
My great rage will surely flow.
All this riot
Will not mend affairs one bit.
Dry up talking,
Off' be walking,
Or your head will surely split.
Lange! here's my hand!
We've had it out, so don't keep spite.
page 28
I'll split on that little affair
Which I found out last night.
I here propose a merry meeting;
What say you, my dear friends?
If to your side I dared to creep.
'Tis not for such as you I'd weep.
Oh! yes indeed I'm sorry,
And weep to think it true
That e'er I thought to marry
A nincompoop like you.
If I my hand should offer now
To worthy Pomponnet,
He would refuse the proffer now
And turn from me away.
Don't deny me,
I know' when I am well off;
I will take you,
And will make you
One at whom no tongue dare scoff.
But to-day now,
Trust me, it is better so,
That the padlock
Firm, of wedlock
Should make fast Ma'amselle Angôt.
As I intended,
But perhaps 'tis better so;
Time will show.
Each take partners for the dance.
page 29
To show how we do in France.
Yes ! of Ma'am Angôt
I'm the true daughter,
My blood can't run slow
Like cold water.
Look at me and you'll know
That Pm Ma'amselle Angôt.
She's the true daughter,
Her Mood can't run slow
Like cold water.
Ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ho !
Hurrah for Ma'amselle Angôt!
End of Opera.
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