Good morrow, good lover! Good lover, good morrow! I prithee discover, Steal, purchase, or borrow, Some means of concealing The care you are feeling, And join in a measure Expressive of pleasure,
For we're to be married to-day—to-day, For we're to be married to-day!
Both.
Yes, we're to be married, &c.
Streph.
(embracing her.) My Phyllis! And to-day we are to be made happy for ever !
Phyl.
Well, we're to be married.
Streph.
It's the same thing.
Phyl.
I suppose it is. But, oh Strephon, I tremble at the step I'm taking ! I believe it's penal servitude for life to marry a Ward of Court without the Lord Chancellor's consent ! I shall be of age in two years.
Don't you think you could wait two years ?
Streph.
Two years ! Why you can't have seen yourself ! Here, look at that (showing her a pocket mirror), and tell me if you think it rational to expect me to wait two years ?
Phyl.
(looking at herself.) No. You're quite right—it's asking too much. One must be reasonable.
Streph.
Besides, who knows what will happen in two years ? Why
you might fall in love with the Lord Chancellor himself by that time !
Phyl.
Yes. He's a clean old gentleman.
Streph.
As it is, half the House of Lords are sighing at your feet.
Phyl.
The House of Lords are certainly extremely attentive.
Streph.
Attentive ? I should think they were ! Why did five-and-twenty Liberal Peers come down to shoot over your grass-plot last autumn ? It couldn't have been the sparrows. Why did five-and-twenty Conservative Peers come down to fish your pond ? Don't tell me it was the gold-fish ! No, no—delays are dangerous, and if we are to marry, the sooner the better.
Duet—Strephon and Phyllis,
None shall part us from each other, One in life and death are we:
All in all to one another— I to thee and thou to me!
Thou the tree and I the flower— Thou the idol; I the throng—
Thou the day and I the hour— Thou the singer; I the song!
