The Sorcerer

   

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No. 13: Incantation (Aline, Alexis, Mr. Wells & Chorus)

"Sprites of earth and air"

Midi Symbol MIDI File [25KB, 3' 34"]

The stage grows dark.

Mr. Wells.

Sprites of earth and air –
Fiends of flame and fire –
Demon souls,
Come here in shoals,
This fearful deed inspire!
Appear, appear, appear.

Male Voices.
Good master, we are here!
Mr. Wells.
Noisome hags of night –
Imps of deadly shade –
Pallid ghosts,
Arise in hosts,
And lend me all your aid.
Appear, appear, appear!
Female Voices.
Good master, we are here!
Mr. Wells (John Reed) prepares for the Incantation watched by Alexis (Ralph Mason) & Aline (Julia Goss) 1971
Click on picture to enlarge

Alexis. (aside)

Hark, they assemble,
These fiends of the night!

Aline.(aside)

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 joy 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 –
There to live and die!

Chorus.
Too late – too late!
Aline, Alexis & Mr. Wells.
Too late – too late!
Chorus.
That happy fate
Is not for thee!
All.
That happy fate
Is not for thee!

Henry Lytton as Mr. Wells
Click on picture to enlarge
Mr. Wells.

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!

(pouring phial into tea-pot – flash)

Number One!

Chorus.
It is done!

Mr. Wells. (same business)
Number Two! (flash)
Chorus.
One too few!
Mr. Wells. (same business)
Number Three! (flash)
Chorus.
Set us free!
Set us free – our work is done
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

Aline & Alexis. Mr. Wells. Chorus.
Let us fly to a far-off land,    
Where peace and plenty dwell – Too late! Set us free! Set us free!
Where the sigh of the silver strand Too late!  
Is echoed in every shell. Too late! Set us free!
Set us free! ha! ha!
Let us fly! Let us fly! Too late! Too late! Ha! ha!
Let us fly! Let us fly! Let us fly! Too late! It may not be! Ha! ha! ha! ha!
Let us fly! Let us fly!
Let us fly! Let us fly!
That happy fate
is not for thee.
Ha! ha!
ha! ha! ha! ha!

Stage grows light. Mr . Wells beckons villagers.

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