The Yeomen of the Guard by W. S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

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No. 22: FINALE (Act II)

"Comes the Pretty Young Bride"

MIDI File [64KB, 9' 03 "] Sequenced by Colin Johnson.

Enter Yeomen and Women.

Women.

Comes the pretty young bride, a-blushing, timidly shrinking —
Set all thy fears aside — cheerily, pretty young bride!
Brave is the youth to whom thy lot thou art willingly linking!
Flower of valour he — loving as loving can be!
Brightly thy summer is shining,
Brightly thy summer is shining,
Fair as the dawn, as the dawn of the day;
Take him, be true to him —
Tender his due to him —
Honour him, honour him, love and obey!

Click on picture to enlarge — Anne Guthrie as Elsie, 1970

Enter Dame Carruthers, Phœbe, and Elsie as Bride.

Phœbe, Elsie & Dame Carruthers.

'Tis said that joy in full perfection
Comes only once to womankind —
That, other times, on close inspection,
Some lurking bitter we shall find.
If this be so, and men say truly,
My day of joy has broken duly
With happiness my/her soul is cloyed —
With happiness is cloyed —
With happiness my/her soul is cloyed —
This is my/her joy-day unalloyed, unalloyed,
This is my/her joy-day unalloyed!

All.

Yes, yes, with happiness her soul is cloyed!
This is her joy-day unalloyed!

Flourish. Enter Lieutenant.

Lieutenant.

Hold, pretty one! I bring to thee
News — good or ill, it is for thee to say.
Thy husband lives — and he is free,
And comes to claim his bride this very day!

Elsie.

No! No! recall those words — it cannot be!

Elsie.	Dame Carruthers & Phœbe	Lieutenant, Meryll & Wilfred.	Chorus.
	Oh, day of terror!	Come, dry these unbecoming tears,	Oh, day of terror!
	Oh, day of terror!	Most joyful tidings greet thine ears.	Oh, day of terror!
	The man to whom thou art allied		Day of terror!
Oh, Leonard,		Come, dry these unbecoming tears,	Day of tears!
Oh, Leonard,		Most joyful tidings greet thine ears.
	Appears to claim thee as his bride.		Day of terror!
Oh, Leonard,		The man to whom thou art allied	Day of tears!
Oh, Leonard,		Appears to claim thee as his bride.
Come thou to my side,	The man to whom thou art allied		Who is the man, who in his pride
		The man to whom thou art allied
And claim me as as thy loving bride	Appears to claim thee as his bride.	Appears to claim thee as his bride, as his bride.	Claims thee as his bride?
Day of terror!	Day of terror!		Day of terror!
Day of tears!	Day of tears!		Day of tears!

Flourish. Enter Colonel Fairfax, handsomely dressed, and attended by other Gentlemen

Fairfax. (sternly)

All thought of Leonard Meryll set aside.
Thou art mine own! I claim thee as my bride.

All.

Thou art his own!
Alas! he claims thee as his bride.

Elsie.

A suppliant at thy feet I fall;
Thine heart will yield to pity's call!

Fairfax.

Mine is a heart of massive rock,
Unmoved by sentimental shock!

All.

Thy husband he!

Elsie. (aside)

Leonard, my loved one — come to me.
They bear me hence away!
But though they take me far from thee,
My heart is thine for aye!

My bruised heart,
My broken heart,
Is thine, my own, for aye!
Is thine, is thine, my own,
Is thine, for aye!

(To Fairfax)

Sir, I obey!
I am thy bride;
But ere the fatal hour
I said the say
That placed me in thy pow'r
Would I had died!
Sir, I obey!
I am thy bride!

Looks up and recognizes Fairfax.

Leonard!

Click on image to enlarge — Thomas Round as Fairfax & Ann Hood as Elsie, 1960s

Leonard.

My own!

Elsie.

Ah! (Embrace)

Elsie & Fairfax.

With happiness my soul is cloyed,
This is our joy-day unalloyed!

All.

Yes, yes!
With happiness their souls are cloyed,
This is their joy-day unalloyed!
With happiness their souls are cloyed,
This is their joy-day unalloyed,
Their joy-day unalloyed, unalloyed!

Enter Jack Point.

Point.

Oh, thoughtless crew!
Ye know not what ye do!
Attend to me, and shed a tear or two —
For I have a song to sing, O!

All.

Sing me your song, O!

Point.

It is sung to the moon
By a love-lorn loon,
Who fled from the mocking throng, O!
It's a song of a merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye.

All.

Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me — lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

It's the song of a merryman, moping mum. Watercolour by W. Russell Flint. — It's the song of a merryman, moping mum. Watercolour by W. Russell Flint

Elsie.

I have a song to sing, O!

All.

What is your song, O!

Elsie.

It is sung with the ring
Of the songs maids sing
Who love with a love life-long, O!
It's the song of a merrymaid, nestling near,
Who loved her lord, but who but dropped a tear
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum,
Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,
Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

All.

Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me — lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

Heighdy! heighdy!
Misery me — lack-a-day-dee!
He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb,
As he sighed for the love of a ladye!

Heighdy! heighdy!
Heighdy! heighdy!
Heighdy! heighdy!

Fairfax embraces Elsie as Point falls insensible at their feet.

CURTAIN

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