You are here: Archive Home > Arthur Sullivan > Major Works > The Emerald Isle > Web Opera > Dialogue following No. 5

Dialogue following No. 5


Terence.
(looking through park gates) Rosie! (Enter Lady Rosie.) You had my note?

Enter Susan. She stands demurely waiting, with eyes fixed on ground.

Rosie.
(to Terence) Yes. How do you do? - (after glance at Susan) - Darling!

Terence.
I am quite well, thank you - (after glance at Susan) - dearest! And you?

Rosie.
Very well, indeed - (aside) - love!

Susan.
Shall I wait, my lady?

Rosie.
Oh, are you there, Susan? No, you need not wait, Susan. Er - Susan -

Susan.
Yes, my lady?

Rosie.
Is that soldier a friend of yours?

Susan.
The sentry, my lady? Well, my lady, I believe I do happen to have made his acquaintance.

Rosie.
You may talk to the sentry if you like.

Susan.
Thank you, my lady.

Rosie.
You may even walk a little way with him, on his beat, up the coach road.

Susan.
Thank you, my lady. (She goes to Sentry. He is still rigid, in a mesmeric trance.)

Terence.
(to Rosie) I'm afraid the sentry is not quite himself -- the fact is, my messenger who took my letter -

Rosie.
Oh, he had one for Papa, too.

Terence.
For the Lord Lieutenant! A letter! From whom?

Susan.
(to Rosie) It's a curious thing, my lady, but he don't seem to take no notice.

Rosie.
It is his sense of discipline, Susan, because I am here. You can whisper to him that I shall not mind his walking up the coach road. I shall not report him for it.

Susan.
Oh, I've told him you're dying for him to go, my lady. I'll tell him again. (Goes to Sentry.)

Terence.
(to Rosie) You say my messenger had a letter for the Lord Lieutenant?

Rosie.
Susan said so - I have reason to believe she is a painfully truthful girl.

Terence.
What can it have been? (Goes up.)

Susan.
(to Rosie) I can't upset his discipline not anyhow, my lady. But there's a gentleman coming down the drive who's winking at me, my lady. The one who brought the note -

Rosie.
Do you think you could - just for once - make the sentry - er, jealous! Do you think that would - er - move him?

Susan.
I'll see what I can do, my lady.

Enter Bunn. He ogles Susan.


Terence.
I must talk to this Mr. Bunn.

Rosie.
Don't interrupt them, please - to please me. (She takes him up. Business with Susan.)

Bunn.
Remarkably warm evening, miss - ?

Susan.
(coyly) Susan. - Do you think so? I'm such a chilly mortal. Just feel my fingers! (offers hand)

Bunn.
(taking it) Ah! cold hands, warm --

Susan.
(coyly) We are not alone. (Indicating Sentry.)

Bunn.
Oh, he won't take any notice.

Susan.
I think perhaps he will, soon. I believe I saw him twitch.

Bunn.
Oh, well, I don't want you to feel any restraint. I'll send him on his beat.

Susan turns up to Rosie and Bunn turns to Sentry and releases him from his mesmeric trance.


Susan.
(to Rosie) It'll be all right soon, my lady.

Rosie.
Thank you, Susan.

Bunn.
(to Sentry) Right!

The Sentry wakes. His expression changes as he sees Susan; he smiles. She goes to him.


Sentry.
Lord Lieutenant's domestics require no pass.

Exeunt Susan and Sentry arm in arm. Bunn is left astounded and disconsolate.


Terence.
I want to talk to you, Mr. Bunn, on business. I hear you left a letter -

Rosie.
Oh, must you talk business now? I thought - (pouting)

Terence.
Well, the business shall wait. (To Bunn.) But so must you. I am not going to let you out of my sight -

Rosie.
Need this gentleman wait? I thought - (pouts)

Enter Susan.


Terence.
Some one must keep an eye on him.

Susan.
Could I help, my lady?

Rosie.
Susan! Why have you come back?

Susan.
The sentry has just been made a prisoner by the Corporal, my lady -- for talking to me.

Rosie.
But I thought the Corporal was a particular friend of yours?

Susan.
That's just it, my lady, he is - most particular.

Rosie.
Then you had better go and talk to the Corporal.

Susan.
Thank you, my lady. (Exit.)

Terence.
The problem is, how to take two persons from three persons, and not leave a remainder of one person.

Rosie.
I think I could do it with apples. Suppose you had three apples -

Bunn.
Allow me. (Produces three apples by a conjuring trick.)

Archive Home  |  Arthur Sullivan  |  Major Works   |  The Emerald Isle

Page Modified 5 September, 2011