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MIDI File [0'30", 4Kb] |
SCENE II
In the Country. Somewhereshire. Enter CYMON.
| Cymon. | Alas! I am turned out. The miller said That, as I'd shot him, I should not be paid, He wouldn't stand the shot — he'd got a lot of it, 'Twas a long shot, and that's the long and shot of it. If I can bring him twenty thousand crowns — He might as well name twenty thousand towns — By two to-morrow, then he'll let Janetta Become my bride; if not, he will not let her, But he will force her, though she'll kick and cry, To marry that gay Marquis de Mincepie. Well, here I am at large, but not at ease, And now — I'll eat a slice of bread and cheese. (Music.) |
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| Enter DUMPY the DWARF. | ||||
| Dumpy | I'm very hungry Mr. Whatsyourname. | |||
| Cymon. | You're hungry, are you? well, I am the same, If you are famished, my small friend, look here, Here is some bread and cheese, and here's some beer. |
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| Four pieces. One I take — The other three Are yours. Oh! this is quite enough for me. |
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| (He has divided a haunch of bread into four parts — three very small, and one very large which he keeps himself.) | ||||
| Dumpy. | Oh, generous stranger! Noble-hearted youth! I am a sort of genius, that's the truth. Perhaps you thought I was; p'raps you have been taught 'Tis oft the fate of Genius to be short. I'm a magician. Now, for your three dishes, I'll grant you — anything you like — three wishes. Name them. |
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| Cymon. | I want a bow. When I shoot game at | |||
| The bow must hit whatever I may aim at. | ||||
| Dumpy. | Go on. | |||
| Cymon. | I said a bow, don't be alarmed | |||
| If I demand a fiddle. | ||||
| Dumpy. | Oh, I'm charmed! | |||
| Cymon. | So must the fiddle be, that when I chance To play a tune all listeners shall dance, Except the folks who hold on by my skirt. |
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| Dumpy. | Granted. What next? | |||
| Cymon. | Well, one more will not hurt. | |||
| I ask but this — whatever the request That I shall make, in earnest or in jest, Whoe'er I ask shall grant it. |
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| Dumpy. | Grant — hey — what! | |||
| Yes — if he can. | ||||
| Cymon. | No, if he can or not. | |||
| Dumpy. | You have your wishes (opens his bag) There's the bow, and there's The fiddle. Won't he give himself some airs! Good-bye, young man. |
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| Cymon. | Your name before you're off. | |||
| Dumpy. | I'm Slumpy Dumpy, the Deluvian Dwarf. | |||
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Page modified 16 December 2012