Haste to the Wedding - Web Opera Act III


No. 12: Duet (Woodpecker & Bunthunder)
	MIDI File [16Kb, 2' 25"]

Enter WOODPECKER.

Woodpecker (chant).
	Your pardon, sir. Am I addressing
		The Major-General Bunthunder
		I greatly wonder?
			In search of him I roam.
Bunthunder (chant).
	I am, as you are rightly guessing,
		That most unhappy warrior — No man sorrier —
			But I am not at home.
Woodpecker (suspiciously).
			You're not at home?
Bunthunder.
			No, sir, I'm not at home.
Woodpecker (chant).
	This information is distressing;
		If you will shortly be returning, My soul is burning
			With keen anxiety to know?
Bunthunder.
	I've gone abroad on business pressing;
		When home from places foreigneering I shall be steering
			Is quite uncertain! Go!
Woodpecker (doubtfully).
			Uncertain? Oh!
Bunthunder.
			It's quite uncertain! Go!
Woodpecker.
			Oh!
Bunthunder.
			Go!

Woodpecker.
		From the Marchionesses, Whom nobody guesses
	To be of the rank of a peeress or peer —
		In courtesy lacking They sent us all packing,
	And each with a very fine flea in his ear.
		Those Johnnies and Jackies The overfed lackies
	They "went for" the bride and her guests with a rush —
		The combat was heated, But we were defeated
	By insolent armies of powder and plush.
		And Mister Maguire, Who's raging with ire,
	Has taken an oath by the powers that be,
		That restaurant-keeper, Shall not close a peeper
	Until she has published an apologee!

Woodpecker.			Bunthunder.
		From the Marchionesses,		Tho' called upon
		Whom nobody guesses				I've never been
	To be of the rank of a peeress or peer —				To court a warrior's tomb,
		In courtesy lacking		Or to defend
		They sent us all packing,				my Sovereign Queen
	And each with a very fine flea in his ear.				In battle's dread boom-boom!
		Those Johnnies and Jackies		Resistless I,
		The overfed lackies				when I am stirr'd
	They "went for" the bride and her guests with a rush —				To doughty deeds of wrath,
		The combat was heated		So on myself
		But we were defeated				I have conferr'd
	By insolent armies of powder and plush.				The Order of the Bath.
	And Mister Maguire,			You trace my humour's
		Who's raging with ire,				devious path?
	Has taken an oath by the powers that be,				You see my meaning through?
		That restaurant-keeper,		The knightly Order
		Shall not close a peeper				of the Bath —
	Until she has published an apologee!				I don't believe you do!
		Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
					No!
		Ho, ho! Ho, ho! Ho, ho!
					No!
	Until she has published an apologee!				I don't believe you do!
		Published an apologee! Ha, ha!			I don't believe you do!
		Apologee, apologee,			No! No!
		Published an apologee!			I don't believe you do!

Page modified 21 June 2010