Topsy Turvy Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Topsy Turvy script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Mike Leigh movie about The Mikado.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Topsy Turvy. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Topsy Turvy Script





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



 # 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, 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.






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?






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.






"The opera is above the level of all

other entertainments before the public."



"Still, I cannot pronounce it

to be in any way...


            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.






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?






To travel to the Continent

as soon as my health permits.



- Very wise.

- I think so.






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?






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    years?



Not an unprofitable    years,

if I may say so.






If you would learn to organise

your time more efficiently...


            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.






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.






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   

covered in freckles...



...and has a total disdain for authority.






I shall miss this fragrance.



Sicilian lemons.



Have you chosen your Beethoven

for the Philharmonic Society?



As a matter of fact, I have.






- No. ?

- 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  :  ?



 Á peu prés.



How will you spend

your first night of liberty?



I shall take some exercise.






 La poupée de Paris, alors!



 # Les oiseaux



 # Dans la charmille



 C'est émouvant!






 Allez, battez!



 C'est mes cuisses!



 Plus de cuisses!






 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



# As many a guardsman knows



# As many a guardsman knows



# 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...


            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?






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...


            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!












- 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.    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.






- Mr Hollingshead told you a fib, Barker.

- Indeed?



He's only playing to    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?












- 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...


            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...


            any time.



But, please, do try to inform us

of your intention to visit.



A father should not have

to seek permission...


            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...


            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?



£    ?



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    bathrooms.



The builder was much bemused.



"What's the point of 'aving a bathroom

to every bedroom?"



"Who's gonna be staying there?




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.









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.






 ... 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      it was a magic coin.



And before that, it was a magic lozenge.



And in      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...


            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!






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...


            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"...


            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!



# Appear!



# 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



# 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...


            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   .



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...






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...


            take exception to a great deal

of my work of the past    years.



Not to mention much of what you and I

have written together since     .



- 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...


            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...


            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...


            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.






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.






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.






- Where have you been?

- Shopping.






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.






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...


            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...


            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.






"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,




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    families were

slaughtered on the Island of Skye?



- Really? When was that?

- In '   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.




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...


            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    /  per cent.






   / .



Now, that would work out at, er...



- £   per week.

-   ! Mm.



I see. Well, £   per week

wasn't quite the sum I had in mind...


            I wended my weary way here.






That would be three productions

with a negligible increase.



I don't consider an increase

of two pounds per week...



...over    months negligible, George.



One might have thought

the name of George Grossmith...


            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...


            be wholly unacceptable.



Not to mention mildly insulting,

if one may say so.



And what figure had you in mind,

Mr Grossmith?






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   -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.




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.






# 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.






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.






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.






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...


            ingratiate oneself

with the management.



Particularly when

the management have difficulty...



...locating the whereabouts

of the arse and the elbow!



Serves them both right.






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.




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 must decline

- # So I object



- # I'd take your share

- # 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.



Do one's hands remain within,

Madame Leon?



Oh, no, my dear. No, no, no. Look! Here!



 - Comme ça.

- Oh, I see!






Are you still troubled by

your understandings, Miss Bond?



- I'm in much pain this afternoon.

- I'm so sorry to hear it.



 Ah, trés jolie, trés jolie. Superbe!



Such exquisite embroidery.



What are you wearing

underneath your gown?



Only my frillies.



Alas, no corsets, I'm afraid to say.



Shall we be revealing a little,

Madame Leon?



- I certainly hope not, Miss Braham.

- Oh, what a pity.



Do take care, Miss Morton!



Makes one rather drowsy.



- It does look comfortable, Sibyl.

- Indeed it is.



 La kimono! Doucement, doucement!

Gently, gently.



Ooh, the silk is sublime, Madame Leon.




From Mr Liberty's store, don't you know?



Bona fide Japanese,

and just a "soupçon" from gay Paris.



 - C'est magnifique!

 - Oui.



Is one to be prevented

from wearing one's corset?



None of the ladies shall be

wearing corsets during the performance.



- That's simply preposterous.

- Our aim is to emulate Japanese ladies.



And they are as thin as threadpaper!



As a Roman column

is opposed to a Grecian urn.



Quite so.



I fear for my reputation, don't you know?



I am following Mr Gilbert's instructions.



Mr Gilbert desires

the Japanese appearance.



That which Mr Gilbert desires,

Mr Gilbert must have. "Fait accompli!"



One can hardly cut a dash

in this... dressing gown!



Do stop fussing, Jessie, please!



- It's delightful, Madame Leon!

- Thank you.



- It's shapeless.

- Yes, Miss Bond, it is shapeless.



Japanese ladies are most shapeless...



...but there is no need

for "you" to be shapeless.



I have devised a solution -

if I may crave your indulgence.



Miss Morton... Miss Grey,

would you kindly raise your arms?



 Merci, merci!

Now, the bow goes at the back.



The sash at the front, lined with calico.



Now... "tournez. Tournez, s'il vous plaît."



Now, this may be laced

as tightly as you require.



 Tournez... á gauche, á gauche.






So you see, in effect, it is a corset!



- Where's the whalebone?

- There are no bones, Miss Bond.



Well, Madame Leon, I do fear

that if there are no bones...



...then it is plainly not a corset.



No, Miss Bond, it is not a corset,

but it may serve for a corset.



It may give you the shape you desire.



Tighter, please, Miss Morton, tighter!



I cannot appear on stage without a corset.



It certainly feels like a corset, Jessie.



You do resemble a birthday gift.

I could eat you.



Do forgive me, Miss Bond. One is

working to the best of one's abilities.



I fear sometimes it is not appreciated.



- That is the "hori". Am I correct, Wilhelm?

- Quite so, Mr Gilbert.



As opposed to the "zori",

which is the stocking, is it not?



- The stockings are the "tarbi", sir.

- Ah! "Tarbi".



- The sandals are the "zori".

- Exactly, sir.



I'm beginning to get it, Grossmith.



- Mr Gilbert.

- Lely?



Is this to be the length of my gown

for Nanki-Poo?



- I believe so. Wilhelm?

- Indeed it is.






Do you not consider it to be perhaps...

too short?



Too short for what?



For propriety.

Might it not be rather unseemly?



- I'm sorry, unseemly to whom?

- To the audience of the Savoy Theatre.



Hmm. I shouldn't have thought so.



In any case, I shall be the judge.



Rest assured, Mr Lely, my designs

are properly researched and authentic.



No offence to you, Mr Wilhelm,

but your properly authentic costume...



...seems to have left me

in the buff somewhat!



- Quite.

- No more in the buff...



...than Japanese peasants

have been for the last     years.



May I draw your attention to the fact that

I am not, actually, a Japanese peasant.



No. You're a Scotch actor, who is

taking the part of a Japanese prince...



...who is posing as an itinerant minstrel.



Lely, I would be only too happy

for the tailor here...


            chop off some of my surplus

and stitch it to your kilt.



Thank you, Grossmith.

I'm sure we shall reap the benefits...



...of your remonstrations in time.



Yes, GG. Do you not agree with me

that this garment is rather vulgar?



I do, as it happens.



Mr Grossmith...



...kindly oblige me by removing your hat.



Why, sir? Are you ready for me?



Would that I were, sir!



I'll thank you not to refer

to my designs as vulgar, Mr Lely.



Mr Wilhelm, to my eyes, your designs

are not only vulgar but obscene!



- How dare you, sir?

- Strong words, Lely. What do you mean?



Mr Gilbert, I'm a respectably married man

and I love my wife dearly.



One of the few pleasures

she has enjoyed...



...since the untimely demise

of my beloved mother-in-law...



...has been to watch me

perform upon the stage.



But I am not prepared to allow her to

suffer the embarrassment of seeing me...



...flaunted before the public like a...

half-dressed performing dog!



You have my sympathies, Lely.



But, unfortunately,

your avocation as an actor...



...compels you on occasion to endure

the most ignominious indignities...


            Grossmith will doubtless testify.



- Without question, sir.

- Mr Lely, let me be clear.



I will not alter

one stitch of your costume...


            protect the sensibilities of your wife...



...your children or any other member

of your unfortunate family.



Mr Wilhelm, I would strongly advise

you not to speak of my family...


            such a despicable manner!






Will you remove your corset?



I beg your pardon?!



Kindly remove your corset, Mr Lely.



It'll spoil the hang of the cloth.



Mr Gilbert.



I never perform without my corset.



- What, never?

- I'm afraid not, sir.



Why not?



One cannot produce

the required vocal vigour...



...without the necessary

diaphragmatical support...



...that the corset affords.



Come, come, Lely.

This is not grand opera in Milan.



It is merely low burlesque in a small

theatre on the banks of the Thames.



You have a fine, strong voice...



...which is more than adequate

for our purposes, corset or no corset.



Kindly remove it this instant.



You may retire behind the screen,

if you wish.



Very well, sir.



But, may I just say...



...that in five years

of loyal service to this company...



...I have never, until now,

lodged a complaint.



Your noble restraint

has been much appreciated.



Thank you, sir.



# A wandering minstrel I



# A thing of shreds and patches



# Of ballads, songs and snatches



# And dreamy lullaby



# My catalogue is long



# Though every passion ranging



# And to your humours changing



# I tune my supple song



# I tune my supple song



# Are you in sentimental mood?



# I'll sigh with you



# Oh



# Sorrow



# On maiden's coldness do you brood?



# I'll do so, too



# Oh, sorrow



# Sorrow



# I'll charm your willing ears



# With songs of lovers' fears



# While sympathetic tears



# My cheeks bedew



# Oh, sorrow



# Sorrow



Thank you, Seymour!



Miss Sixpence Please,

would you kindly come along with me?



Make haste, make haste!



- Johnny.

- Thank you very much.



Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce

you all to Miss Sixpence Please?



You may have heard me speak of her

with reverence and respect. Thank you.



Very good.

Make yourselves comfortable.



Please be seated. Thank you.



Ah! Sir! My apologies.

I've been neglecting you.



Would you like to come this way?



No, it's all right, Seymour.

He can use your chair.



Here you are, sir. Be seated here.



Very good indeed. Pride of place, sir!

Make yourself comfortable.






Yes. Now.



D'Auban! Will you kindly withdraw

to the side of the stage immediately?



- Johnny!

- Thank you, "Monsieur" D'Auban!



Ladies, will you take up

your fans, please?



What I'd like you to do, sir,

is to observe the proceedings.



Would you give all your attention

to the performance? Thank you.



Barker, what are you doing? Joining in?



My dancing days are long over,

Mr Gilbert.



Over, Barker, but not forgotten.



Ladies, opening attitudes, "s'il vous plaît".



From the beginning,

counting two bars, Mrs Russell.



- Thank you.

- One, two. Two, two.



# Three little maids from school are we



# Pert as a schoolgirl well can be



# Filled to the brim with girlish glee



- # Three little maids from school

- Fans!



# Everything is a source of fun



# Nobody's safe, for we care for none



# Life is a joke that's just begun



# Three little maids from school



All fans rising slowly...



- And!

- # Three little maids who all unwary



Stop! Thank you very much!

Now, Miss Sixpence...



Carte! I beg your pardon.



Let me introduce our Japanese guests.



Ladies. Mr D'Oyly Carte. Our proprietor.



- Please continue.

- Thank you very much.



Now. Miss Sixpence Please.



That performance

that you have witnessed...



...was not even remotely Japanese.

Am I right?






- Sir. Japanese?

- Japanese.



- No.

- No.



- Thank you very much.

- Excuse me, Mr Gilbert, sir.



- Japanese.

- Japanese.



- Yes.

- Yes.



- He hasn't got any idea what you mean.

- That's blatantly obvious, D'Auban!



 - Parlate italiano?

- If he doesn't speak English...



...he's hardly likely to speak Italian!



I beg your pardon, Mr Gilbert.



 Porca miseria!

 Non posso lavorare cosí!



It's a waste of time!



If you three ladies come with me,




Please go to the back of the stage.

Thank you.



Yes, yes. Come upstage.

As quickly as you can. Come along.



Thank you.



- Thank you.

- Thank you very much indeed.



One, two, three.



Very good. Thank you.



Now, what I would like you to do

when the music commences...



...I would like you to advance downstage.



Thank you very much.



- Cellier.

- One, two. Two, two.



- Off you go. Come along.



Stop, stop!



Will this take long?

I'm to arrange a mazurka at four o'clock.



I have not made myself clear.



When Mrs Russell commences playing

the pianoforte, diddle-dum, diddle-dee...



...what I would like you to do

is to advance downstage.



"Comme ça", diddle-dum, diddle-dee.



Do you understand?

I think you do. Let's try once more.






- One, two. Two, two.



Come along. That's it. Very good!



Excellent! That is exactly it!

Thank you very much indeed!



Excellent! First rate.



Thank you very much indeed.



D'Auban, that is exactly what I want.



I do beg your pardon,

but I appear to have missed the point.



- That is the very effect I need.

- And what effect exactly is that?



- What did they do?

- They walked downstage.



They appeared to me to be

ambling along the Strand.



They walked downstage

in the Japanese manner!



They walked in the Japanese manner

because they are Japanese.



Exactly! And that is precisely

why they are here.



Our maids are not Japanese.

However, they are very funny.



No funnier, however, than they would be

if they all sat down on pork pies.



- Young fella-me-lad, Mr Gilbert, sir.



I've arranged

Terpsichore, Chinese, Japanese...



...for pantomime, burlesque

and the ballet...



...for many a season,

always to great acclaim.



D'Auban... this is not low burlesque.



This is an entirely original

Japanese opera.



Miss Bond, Miss Braham and Miss Grey,

kindly resume your opening positions!



Please be seated once more.

Please be seated. Thank you.



Thank you!



Come along!

Come along, tortoise! Quickly, quickly!



What I would like you to do now

is to perform it...



...just as you have seen our guests

perform it. Thank you very much.



- Mr Gilbert!

- Yes, Jessie.



- Is that "exactly" as we have just seen?

- Exactly!



Without using "Monsieur" D'Auban's steps,

Mr Gilbert?



I want you to perform it

precisely as you have seen...



...our Japanese friends perform it.

Thank you very much!



 - Exactement. C'est pas difficile.

- Very slowly and very boringly.



One, two. Two, two.



Very good!



First rate.



That is exactly right.

Thank you very much indeed!



That's as funny as when me tights caught

fire in Harlequin Meets ltchity-Switch.



Decorum in rehearsal, D'Auban.



That's the way, yes!



Very good indeed.



Try them together, try them together.



Three of them, do it all together.

The same noise.



One, two, three!



Ah! Excellent!



# Three little maids from school are we



# Pert as a schoolgirl well can be



# Filled to the brim with girlish glee



# Three little maids from school



# Everything is a source of fun



# Nobody's safe for we care for none



# Life is a joke that's just begun



# Three little maids from school



# Three little maids who all unwary



# Come from a ladies' seminary



# Freed from its genius tutelary



# Three little maids from school



# Three little maids from school



# One little maid is a bride, Yum-Yum



# Two little maids in attendance come



# Three little maids is the total sum



# Three little maids from school



# From three little maids take one away



# Two little maids remain and they



# Won't have to wait very long, they say



# Three little maids from school



# Three little maids from school



# Three little maids who all unwary



# Come from a ladies' seminary



# Freed from its genius tutelary



# Three little maids from school



# Three little maids from school



Laughing, ha ha, chaffing, ha ha



Nectar quaffing, ha ha ha haa,



But condemned to die is he,



Wretched meritorious B.



Mikado leads Katisha off.



Off, up the stairs...



Thus... the traditional Japanese posture...


            adopted by well-meaning

but misguided underlings...



...upon the departure

of their august superiors.



- Thank you.

- Is that a recognised Japanese attitude?



Not as yet, Grossmith. But I have every

confidence that it will become one.



Much obliged.



I'm sure I've seen this

on a vase somewhere.






Thank you, Mr Gilbert.



Ha! A pretty picture! Eh, Seymour?



Charming, sir.



The Mikado has left. Grossmith.




another fine mess you've got us into.



No! My line is,

'A nice mess you've got us into.'



And I should be much obliged

if you would play it "comme ça".



Well... a nice mess you've got us into.



Righto, sir.



- Well...

- No! Well...






...a nice mess you've got us into...



...with your nodding head and

the deference due to a man of pedigree.



Mr Grossmith,

you are under sentence of death...


            something lingering.



Either boiling oil or melted lead.



Kindly bear that in mind. Thank you.



Well, a nice mess you've got us into...



...with your nodding head and

the deference due to a man of pedigree.



Merely corroborative detail...



...intended to give artistic verisimilitude...


            a bald and unconvincing narrative.



No, Barrington. An "otherwise" bald

and unconvincing narrative.



Was that incorrect? I do beg your pardon.



No, sir. It has only just occurred to me.



Oh! To an otherwise bald

and unconvincing narrative.



- Much better.

- Corrobatative detail indeed!



- Corroborative detail.

- Corrobatative.



- Corroborative.

- Corroborative.



- Corroborative.

- Corroborative.



Thank you.






Corroborative detail indeed!



Corroborative fiddlestick!



And "you're" just as bad as he is...



...with your cock-and-bull stories.

- Cock and "a" bull.



Cock and a bull about catching his eye.



- Line?

- And his whistling an air.



- And his whistling hair!



- Boiling oil, Grossmith. Melted lead.

- Beg pardon, sir.



About catching his eye,

and his whistling an air.



But that's so like you!

You must stick your oar in.



- You must put in your oar.

- Over again.



And "you're" just as bad as he is...



...with your cock-and-a-bull stories

about catching his eye...



...and his whistling an air.



But that's so like you.

You must put your oar in.



- You must put in your oar.

- Over again.



You're just as bad as he is,

with your cock-and-a-bull stories...



...about catching his eye

and his whistling an air!



But that's so like you.

You must put in your oar!



- But how about your big right arm?

- Yes, and your snickersnee.



Well, well, never mind that now.



There's only one thing to be done.

Nanki-Poo hasn't started yet.



He must come to life again at once!



Appear! Appear!



- # Appear!



Yes, now. Since Nanki-Poo

and Yum-Yum have decided...



...not to grace us with their presence...


            would transpire, Mr Seymour, that

your moment of glory has finally arrived.



On your feet, slopkins!



Whence would you like us

both to enter, sir?



The honeymoon couple appear

at the upstage right entrance...



...travelling in a westerly direction

towards Knightsbridge.



But your journey is interrupted

by Mr Grossmith.



- Mr Gilbert.

- Jessie.



- Might I use my stick?

- By all means. Are you troubled?



I'm quite all right, thank you.



- Well, well.

- Well, well.



Well, well, never mind that now!



There's only one thing to be done.



Nanki-Poo hasn't started yet.



He must come to life again... at once!



- Here he comes.



'Ere... Nanki-Poo!



I've good news for you. You're reprieved.



I beg your pardon, Mr Gilbert.

I have failed to provide a valise.



Indeed, Seymour. And you have also

failed to provide two actors.



Pray continue.



Oh! But it's too late!



- I'm a dead man and I'm off...



...for my honeymoon.



Uncanny, is it not?



Mr Seymour, please inform Mr Lely that

his services will no longer be required.



Thank you very much, sir.






A terrible thing has 'appened.

You're the son of the Mikado!



A terrible thing "has" happened!

You've become a cockney!



I thought one would suggest

something of his lowly station...



...being a cheap tailor and all.



Rubbish! We're in Japan,

not Stepney or Bow. Do it properly.



Oh. Very well.



Nonsense. A terrible thing has happened.

It seems you're the son of the Mikado.



Yes! But that happened some time ago.



Is this a time for airy persiflidge?



Persiflage, Grossmith.



- Is it?

- It is.



Is this a time for airy persiflage?



Doesn't sound right to me.



Persiflage, mirage, fromage.



- Decoupage.

- Exactly.



Your father is here...



...and with Ka-tisha.



- Katisha.

- It amuses me to say Ka-tisha.



It doesn't amuse me, Grossmith.

Nor does it scan.



My father? And with Katisha?!



Yes, he wants you particularly.



So does she.



- Ooh, but he's married now!



But bless my heart,

what has that to do with it?



Katisha claims me in marriage, but I can't

marry her because I'm married already.




she will insist on my execution...



...and if I'm executed,

my wife will have to be buried alive.



You see our difficulty.



- Yes, I don't know what's to be done.

- Make as to leave. Stop him.



There's one chance for you.



If you could persuade

Katisha to marry you...



...she would have no further claim on me.



And in that case, I could come to life

without any fear of being put to death.



I? Marry Katisha?



I really think it's the only course.



My good girl, have you seen her?

She's something awful.



- Appalling.

- Something appalling.



Ah... that's only her "face".



Ah, that's "only" her face.



She has a left elbow

which people come miles to see.



I'm told her right heeeeel

is much admired by connoisseuuuurs.



Could we do that line again, Barrington?

This time, try it in English.



I'm told her right heel

is much admired by connoisseurs.



That better, sir?






My good sir, I decline to pin my heart

upon any lady's right heel.



Make as to leave.



Stop him.



It comes to this. While Katisha is single,

I prefer to be a disembodied spirit.



When Katisha is married...



...existence will be as welcome

as the flowers in spring.



Tra la.



Very good. Over again, if you please.



- And!



Thank you, gentlemen.



Not surprisingly...



...we were somewhat foxed

by the abbreviated, er... restatement.



Er... letter A.



Discord bordering on cacophony.

Second fiddles?



- Indeed, Sir Arthur.

- My mistake. I do beg your pardon.



- My error, sir.

- I suspect we were a trifle early.



Indeed you were, Mr Harris.

And more than a trifle.



I really don't mind whose mistake...


            was, Mr Plank,

as long as it doesn't happen again.



The entry is on the third beat of the bar,

not the first. I think that's quite clear.



- Yes, sir.

- It is, sir, yes.



Very good.



And now, we return to Mr Hurley.



- Good morning, Mr Hurley!

- Good morning, Doctor Sullivan.



You was late, Mr 'Urley.



My profuse apologies to you, sir.



Thank you.



I assumed it to be an error

on the part of the copyist.



The second beat

of the previous bar appeared...


            me to be masquerading

as the first beat of the next.



Most alarming! But it was not.



Oh, indeed not, for which I do apologise,

Doctor Sullivan.



Mr Hurley, once again -

saving your blushes, maestro -



...Dr Sullivan is dead. Long live Sir Arthur.



Thank you, Mr Cellier.



- Mr Tripp.

- Sir?



Owing to the somewhat

tardy entry of Mr Hurley...


           , quite understandably,

followed suit.



Absolutely, sir.



So assuming that Mr Hurley "does" enter

at the correct place, you will too.



- Assuming he does, sir, I will, sir.

- Very good.



- Thank you, Mr Tripp!

- Thank you, sir.



- Capital! Er, gentlemen...



...once more from the beginning, please.

I shall give you one bar.



# A more humane Mikado never



# Did in Japan exist



# To nobody second I'm certainly

reckoned a true philanthropist



# It is my very humane endeavour



# To make, to some extent



# Each evil liver



# A running river



# Of harmless merriment



# My object all sublime



# I shall achieve in time



# To let the punishment fit the crime



# The punishment fit the crime



# And make each prisoner pent



# Unwillingly represent



# A source of innocent merriment



# Of innocent merriment



# The advertising quack



# Who wearies with tales

of countless cures



# His teeth, I've enacted



# Shall all be extracted

by terrified amateurs



# The music-hall singer attends a series



# Of masses and fugues and ops



# By Bach interwoven

with Spohr and Beethoven



# At classical Monday pops



# The billiard sharp

whom anyone catches



# His doom's extremely hard



# He's made to dwell in a dungeon cell



# On a spot that's always barred



# And there he plays extravagant matches



# In fitless fingerstalls



# On a cloth untrue



# With a twisted cue



# And elliptical billiard balls



# My object all sublime



# I shall achieve in time



# To let the punishment fit the crime



# The punishment fit the crime



# And make each prisoner pent



# Unwillingly represent



# A source of innocent merriment



# Of innocent merriment



# His object all sublime



# He will achieve in time



# To let the punishment fit the crime



# The punishment fit the crime



# And make each prisoner pent



# Unwillingly represent



# A source of innocent merriment



# Of innocent merriment



Did I say come in?



You are required in the auditorium,

Mr Grossmith.



I requested five minutes' grace.



You've had eight, sir.



- Mayn't it wait until tomorrow?

- No, sir.



Thank you, Miss Braham.



Is that everyone, Seymour?



- All present and correct, Mr Gilbert.

- Good.



I won't keep you, ladies and gentlemen.



We're all extremely tired

and looking forward to our beds.



Observations. The use of fans,

particularly in Act One...



...was flabby and erratic.



- Very scrappy.

- Indeed, D'Auban.



We shall address this tomorrow afternoon

at two o'clock, Seymour.



Two of the clock.



Ko-Ko's entrance.

Mr Kent and Mr Cunningham.



Please ensure that you do not flinch

at Mr Grossmith's sword.



You must have confidence that

he is not about to chop off your heads.



Even if it may appear

that that is your inevitable fate.



I take it, Mr Grossmith...



...that today's performance

was an aberration.






I beg your pardon, sir.

Were you addressing me?



I was indeed, sir. How are you?



Quite well, thank you.



I believe a good night's sleep

will cure all ills.



That I took to be the case.



Your performances were,

on the whole, promising.



Which is more than can be said,

alas, for that of the sliding doors.



One of which might have

thought it was in Japan.



The other was labouring under the

delusion it was on holiday in Yorkshire.



- Where was the man?

- Rest assured, Mr Barker...



...that tomorrow night

he will be with us in Japan.






Now. Cuts. There is only one.



In Act Two, the Mikado's song.



- I beg your pardon, Mr Gilbert?

- Yes, Miss Brandram.



Surely you can't mean Mr Temple's solo?



That is exactly what I mean.



- I do think that's a shame, sir.

- It's a dreadful shame.



Hear, hear.



- My dear Mr Gilbert.

- Temple.



I am fully aware that the standard of

my singing was not quite up to the mark.



Your singing was exemplary, Temple.



But I can assure you that once

I have mastered the leg business...



...I shall most certainly

be at liberty to serve the lyric.



I do apologise.

I have not made myself clear.



My decision to cut the song in no way

reflects upon your performance...



...which was fine in every respect.



Fault, if there is one,

lies in my obtuse decision...


            write the thing in the first place.



I have nothing more to say.

Thank you very much. Sullivan?



Excuse me.



Ladies and gentlemen.



If I might presume to take

a few more moments of your time.



I should like to thank

you all most passionately...



...for your tremendous hard work and

application during these last few weeks.



And if I may say so...



...the contribution of the chorus

was particularly fine.



I'm immensely proud of you all.



I do not wish to tempt the fates...



...but I feel that we will have

a great success.



I have nothing further to add.



Only remember...



 ... voce, voce, voce. Buonanotte a tutti.



Now then, young fella-me-lads.



The Terpsichore was

executed magnifiquely...



...notwithstanding the Topsy-Turvydom

befuddling Mr Ko-Ko's entrance.




# In the sea, in the sea, in the sea...


            out on sea, not in. "Bonsoir."



Should any gent require a libation...



...I shall be shortly located

at The Coal Hole with Mr Johnny Ward.



Thank you, Johnny.



Excellent. "Bravissimi."



A splendid achievement.



Be confident...



...and may you have a good night's rest.



Miss Lenoir.



My thanks and congratulations to you all.



To hasten you to your slumbers,

cabs have been ordered...



...and will meet you at the stage door

as soon as you are ready.



Please share a cab with a neighbour.

Remember, we're not made of money.



Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.



- I felt so terrible.

- Oh, so did I!



My heart broke for him.

I can't bear to see a man cry.



- Was he crying?

- He was crushed.



- Really sad.

- And he's so awfully funny!



Some people only come

to see Mr Temple perform.



My cousins are always asking about him.

They already have their tickets.



- They'll want their money back now!

- There are other people in this piece!



He's hardly in it now, though, is he?



- He's playing the Mikado.

- Thank you, Violet!



- Will you be long, Catherine?

- No, I shan't.



I wish we could do something.



There ain't.

Mr Gilbert's decided and that's that.



With Mr Gilbert, one never knows.

Particularly before a first night.



I suggest we get a good night's sleep.



Absolutely. I'm certainly off.



I think you should all

mind your own business.



- Good night!

- That was a little uncalled-for!



Good night, girls!

I don't want to be late for supper.



Oh, Bunny, you look charming!



It's a fine comic song.

He sings it splendidly.



Does the paying audience

not deserve to hear it?



I agree, Walter. They do.



Rotten luck for poor old Temple.



- I'm not convinced it's an immortal song.

- Nobody said it was, Mr Lewis!



It's not the Holy Grail!



Despite your reservations

about the song...


            must concede

it is an original performance.



He should have cut

one of Grossmith's songs.



- Mr Grossmith is poorly.

- Then he should have stayed at home.



I think it's a misjudgement.

Someone should tell him.



- Tell who?

- Gilbert.



- He's only a man, like the rest of us.



He's not the devil incarnate.



He scares the living daylights out of me.



- What about us?

- Beg pardon, Price?



- Why can't "we" speak to Mr Gilbert?



Well, we could all go together.



There's no reason why we shouldn't.



Is there?



Tell a man you admire his lyrics,

he can only be gratified.



It's a splendid notion, Mr Price.



Well, here's food for thought.



Gentlemen, I have been a chorister

in this company for    seasons.



It is my intention to remain one

for at least another   .



- I'm sure you shall.

- Be very careful, Mr Price.



You must consider yourself...



...and your position.



This is tantamount

to professional suicide.



Oh, WJ, that is a little excessive...



Gentlemen, let us repair

to The Coal Hole in the Strand.



Don't be long, chaps.



- Good night, gentlemen.

- Good night.



- Take heart.

- You'll be wonderful.



Quite so.



Is that not right, wee Durward?



Ach, he'll be grand, Helen.



This has taken us all quite by surprise.



And we all know Mr Gilbert.



- I'd have thought it was a fine song.

- It is.



Thank you.



Is there anything

we can arrange for you, Mr Temple?



No, thank you, Miss Lenoir.



I'll be fine.



It's very late. Congratulations, Lely.



- First class.

- Ach, no. Did you think so?



- Oh, yes.

- Better and better.



Thank you. "Grazie. Grazie."



- The Beefsteak?

- I'm ravenous.



- Gentlemen, good night.

- Good night.



- Good night, Butt!

- Good night.



Dickie! "Courage."



Well, there you have it, Dickie.



He's an absolute bastard.



I knew something of this order

would happen.



I sensed it, I told you so!



This really is unconscionably cruel.



You've missed your last train, Dickie.



It's too late to telegraph

the Mrs Temple now.



What'll you do?



I suppose I shall toddle across the river

to my mother's. She never sleeps.



There's g'aye few like us...



...and they're all dead.



My father used to say that.












- Good afternoon, Bovill.

- Good afternoon, Mr Gilbert.



- Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon, Miss Russell.



Good afternoon, Rhys... Good heavens!



- Afternoon, Mr Gilbert.

- Good afternoon.



- Might you, er... spare us a moment?

- Of course, we're here to rehearse!



- Please, Mr Gilbert, sir.

- Yes, Price, what is it?



- We, er...

- Hmm?!



The... ladies and gentlemen

of the chorus...






Concerning Mr Temple's song, sir.



Ah, the Mikado's song.



Yes, sir.



What of that mercifully

released aberration?



- We all consider it... a very fine song, sir.

- Indeed we do.



Gratifying, I'm sure.



That must be a matter of opinion,

mustn't it, Price?



Well, yes, Mr Gilbert,

but we believe it a great loss.



- Do you?

- Yes, sir.



Especially after all our

extremely hard work.



And, of course, Mr Temple.



I'm really very sorry for you,

but as we all know, it's an unjust world.



We all feel it would have been

of great benefit to the opera.



And that perhaps

the audience should decide.



Is this the considered opinion of you all?



It is, sir.



- I am not party to this, Mr Gilbert.

- Ah, Mr Kent.



As ever, the sole voice of reason.



Temple, what do you make

of this occurrence?



I do beg your pardon, Mr Gilbert.



But I have absolutely no idea

what is taking place.



There has been a request

that your song be reinstated.









A most forceful request, I have to say.






Do clear the way.



Oh. I beg your pardon, sir.



This is surprising indeed,

ladies and gentlemen.



And somewhat overwhelming.



Temple. Would you be prepared to sing

the song at this evening's performance?



Yes, sir. I would.



Then please be so good as to do so.



- Hip-hip...



- Hooray!

- Rehearsals in five minutes.



Seymour, where's D'Auban?



- Congratulations, Temple.

- Thank you, good chappie.



Right you are, Pidgeon!

Come along! Make haste!



- Sir, it's seven o'clock, sir.

- Ah, there you are, Willie.



Willie! Willie!!



The carriage is waiting, sir.






- Out of my way, Pidgeon!

- I do apologise, sir.



Willie! We must be leaving!



We don't want to be late.



- You look beautiful, madam.

- Oh, thank you, Mrs Judd.



Oh, it's most pleasant to be appreciated.



Don't worry, madam.



- Good evening, Cook.

- Evening, sir.



- Come in!



- GG!

- Arthur!



- Your very good health.

- Yours too, Arthur.



- Splendid piece.

- Thank you.



We shall both be splendid tonight.



Too many words.



- I thought I'd just pop in.

- Much appreciated.



So very frightened of losing...



One had to stay by the door,

don't you know?



- I beg your pardon?

- £   per week isn't too much to ask.



Behaves more like a man than a woman.






- Try to remember to breathe properly.

- Yes, yes, yes.



This year... next year.



Too much noise.



George. Shall we fetch you a doctor?



I know doctors!



Coming in here,

picking and fussing over one!



Magnetising the children.



We shall have a great triumph, you know.



What is the time, by the way?



A quarter past.

The dreaded hour approaches.






Take a deep breath.



Very good.



- Who is it?

- Gilbert.



Do come in, Mr Gilbert.



- A brief intrusion.

- How are you, Mr Gilbert?



As well as any condemned man

can expect.



- How are you, ladies?

- Oh, a little anxious, Mr Gilbert.



You have every right to be anxious

under the circumstances.



I don't suppose

you'll be with us this evening.



Indeed not. Why on earth

should I consort with the foe?



Oh, but I'm quite sure

we shall have a great success, Mr Gilbert.



I wish I possessed your confidence.



Well, Jessie!



 Bonne chance!



- Thank you.

- And you, tortoise.



Thank you, Mr Gilbert.



Very good.



I shall put on my kimono now,

please, Emily.



Oh! Very well, Miss Braham.



- Good evening, Cook.

- Sir.



- Is Mr Grossmith respectable?

- I'm afraid not, sir.



- We'll return later, George.

- Oh, thank you.



- Good evening.

- Sir.



No, Cookie!



- Gilbert!

- I beg your pardon, sir.



May I come in?



I'm in my birthday suit.



- Ah. Are we not receiving?

- No, sir.



Good luck, Grossmith!

And be careful with the sword.






- Walk, boy!

- Yes, sir.



Permission, Mr Cook.



Permission withheld, sir. On your way.



Thank you, sir. Good luck, sir.



Five minutes, sir.



# Miya sama, miya sama



# On n'm-ma no maye ni



# Pira-Pira suru no wa



# Nan gia na



# Toko tonyare tonyare na?



# Miya sama, miya sama



# On n'm-ma no maye ni



# Pira-Pira suru no wa



# Nan gia na



# Toko tonyare tonyare na?



# From every kind of man



# Obedience I expect



# I'm the Emperor of Japan



# And I'm his daughter-in-law elect



# He'll marry his son



# He's only got one



# To his daughter-in-law elect



# My morals have been declared



# Particularly correct



# But they're nothing at all



# Compared with those

of his daughter-in-law elect



# Bow!



# Bow



# To his daughter-in-law elect



# Bow! Bow!



# To his daughter-in-law elect



# In a fatherly kind of way



# I govern each tribe and sect



# All cheerfully own my sway



# Except his daughter-in-law elect



# As tough as a bone



# With a will of her own



# Is his daughter-in-law elect



# My nature is love and light



# My freedom from all defect



# Is insignificant quite



# Compared with his daughter-in-law elect



# Bow! Bow!



# To his daughter-in-law elect



# Bow! Bow!



# To his daughter-in-law elect



# A more humane Mikado never



# Did in Japan exist



- Get off!

- Be good, be good.



- What are you do...?

- I'm good, I'm good.



- Get your hands off me!

- Oh, don't rub your smell off on me!



You stinking bitch!

Just let me go, you cow!



- Oh, you're a lovely big boy!

- Don't touch me!



Who made the world, arsehole?!



# The criminal cried

as he dropped him down



# In a state of wild alarm



# With a frightful frantic fearful frown



# I bared my big right arm



# I seized him by his little pigtail



# And on his knees



# Fell he



# As he squirmed and struggled

and gurgled and guggled



# I drew my snickersnee



# My snickersnee



# Never shall I forget the cry



# Or the shriek that shriek-ed he



# As I gnashed my teeth

when from its sheath



# I drew my snickersnee



# We know him well



# He cannot tell



# Untrue or groundless tales



# He always tries to utter lies



# And every time he fails



# He shivered and shook

as he gave the sign



# For the stroke he didn't deserve



# When all of a sudden



# His eye met mine



# And it seemed to brace his nerve



# For he nodded his head



# And kissed his hand



# And he whistled an air, did he



# As the sabre true



# Cut cleanly through



# His cervical vertebrae



# His vertebrae



# When a man's afraid



# A beautiful maid



# Is a cheering sight to see



# And it's oh, I'm glad



# That moment sad



# Was soothed by sight of me



# Her terrible tale



# You can't assail



# With truth it quite agrees



# Her taste exact



# For faultless fact



# Amounts to a disease



# Now though you'd have said



# That head was dead



# For its owner dead was he



# It stood on its neck



# With a smile well-bred



# And bowed three times to me!



# It was none of

your impudent offhand nods



# But as humble as could be



# For it clearly knew



# The deference due



# To a man of pedigree



# Of pedigree



# And it's oh, I vow



# This deathly bow



# Was a touching sight to see



# Though trunkless yet



# It couldn't forget



# The deference due to me



# This haughty youth



# He speaks the truth



# Whenever he finds it pays



# And in this case



# It all took place



# Exactly as he says



# Exactly, exactly, exactly



# Exactly as he says



- # For he's gone and married Yum-Yum

- # Yum-Yum



# Your anger pray bury

for all will be merry



- # I think you had better succumb

- # Cumb-cumb



# And join our expressions of glee



- # On this subject I pray you be dumb

- # Dumb-dumb



# Your notions, though many

are not worth a penny



- # The word for your guidance is mum

- # Mum-mum



# You've a very good bargain in me



# On this subject we pray

you be dumb, dumb-dumb



# We think you had better

succumb, cumb-cumb



# You'll find there are many



# Who'll wed for a penny,

who'll wed for a penny



# There are lots of good fish in the sea



# There are lots of good fish in the sea



# There's lots of good fish,

good fish in the sea



# There's lots of good fish,

good fish in the sea



# In the sea, in the sea, in the sea



# The threatened cloud has passed away



# And fairly shines the dawning day



# What though the night

may come too soon



# We've years and years of afternoon



# Then let the throng our joy advance



# With laughing song and merry dance



# Then let the throng our joy advance



# With laughing song and merry dance



# With laughing song and merry dance



# With laughing song



# With joyous shout



# With joyous shout and ringing cheer



# Inaugurate, inaugurate their new career



# With joyous shout and ringing cheer



# Inaugurate their new career



# With joyous shout and ringing cheer



# Inaugurate their new career



# With laughing song and merry dance



# With laughing song and merry dance



# With song



# And dance



Pish, Peep!









- How bad was it?

- Utterly dreadful. A joke! I jest!



- And Grossmith?

- A lamentable spectacle.



- Are you ready, Gilbert?

- Ready for what?



The gibbet?



And... full company!



Ladies and gentlemen, bow!



Thank you very much.



There's something inherently

disappointing about success.



Climax and anticlimax, Willie.



I don't quite know how to take praise.



It makes my eyes red.



It must be rather pleasant

to receive it, nonetheless.



I suppose so...

if one feels one deserves it.



I don't think anyone would deny

that you deserve it, Willie.



I know my limitations.



I should rather like to be an actor,

upon the stage.



- An actor?

- Yes.



Wouldn't it be wondrous

if perfectly commonplace people...



...gave each other a round of applause

at the end of the day?



Well done, Kitty! Well done!



Well done, Kitty! Bravo! Encore!



Thank you, Willie.



- Well, you must be tired.

- Must I?



I shall leave you to your beauty sleep.



No, don't go.



Any thoughts racing round

in that old brain of yours?



Thoughts of what nature?



Concerning your next piece.



Ah! That monster.



No, not as yet.



Perhaps you should do something

completely different and unusual.



- Such as what?

- Oh, well, I don't know!



Come along, suggest something!






Well, you should have

a young and beautiful heroine...



...who grows old and plain.



As she gradually becomes

older and older...



...the ladies' chorus

becomes younger and younger.



Ah. Topsy-Turvy.






How would it commence,

this comic opera of yours?



With the gentlemen's chorus, of course.



A chorus of fat leeches.



- Leeches?

- Yes!



No, they'd be gentlemen.



They'd be in their carriages

and they'd be rushing across the stage.



The horses would be

galloping across the stage...



...with the ladies chasing after them

to talk to them...



...but they wouldn't be listening,

they'd be far too busy.






Expensive to stage.



And there'd be dozens of doors...



...and ticking clocks on the stage.



He's made a vow to give her the key...



...but he never does.



Who might "he" be?



Well, he's her husband, I suppose.



The hero.



No, not the hero.






One day...






Late one night...



...she suddenly decides to try the door...



...and it opens!



Ah. So it wasn't locked after all.



And she climbs up the stairs...



...and there, on the sands...



...are hundreds of nannies

all pushing empty perambulators about!



And every time she tries to be born...



...he strangles her with her umbilical cord.



I shouldn't imagine

Sullivan'd much care for "that".



I'm proud of myself...



...triumphant, exhilarated,

exhausted, revived...



...and fed up to the back teeth

with these wretched kidneys.



Poor old thing.



Arthur, an old demon has come back

to haunt us at a most unwelcome time.



What on earth do you mean?






I didn't want to tell you.



- Are you sure?

- Yes.



How long have you known?



Ten days.



Oh, Fanny.



I shall make the arrangements.



That won't be necessary.



I couldn't go through that again.



I'm sorry that you have to.



I've made my own arrangements.



Have you?



Someone has been recommended to me.



After all...


            is      Arthur.



I love "The Mikado".



You've put everything you are into it.



You light up the world.



You can't help it.



I must fly.



Yes, I am indeed beautiful.



Sometimes I sit and wonder...


            my artless Japanese way...



...why it is that I am

so much more attractive...



...than anybody else in the whole world.



Can this be vanity?






Nature is lovely...



...and rejoices in her loveliness.



I am a child of nature...



...and take after my mother.



# The sun whose rays are all ablaze



# With ever-living glory



# Does not deny his majesty



# He scorns to tell a story



# He don't exclaim, "I blush for shame



# So kindly be indulgent"



# But fierce and bold in fiery gold



# He glories all effulgent



# I mean to rule the earth



# As he the sky



# We really know our worth



# The sun and I



# I mean to rule the earth as he the sky



# We really know our worth



# The sun and I



# Observe his flame, that placid dame



# The moon's Celestial Highness



# There's not a trace upon her face



# Of diffidence or shyness



# She borrows light that through the night



# Mankind may all acclaim her



# And truth to tell



# She lights up well



# So I for one don't blame her



# Ah, pray make no mistake



# We are not shy



# We're very wide awake



# The moon and I



# Ah, pray make no mistake

We are not shy



# We're very wide awake



# The moon and I


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