W. S. Gilbert

“ A Baronet of Ruddigore can only die through refusing to commit his daily crime.
Rod. No doubt.
Rob. Therefore, to refuse to commit a daily crime is tantamount to suicide!
Rod. It would seem so.
Rob. But suicide is, itself, a crime—and so, by your own showing, you ought never to have died at all!
Rod. I see—I understand! Then I'm practically alive!
Rob. Undoubtedly! [Sir Roderic embraces Hannah.] Rose, when you believed that I was a simple farmer, I believe you loved me?
Rose. Madly, passionately!
Rob. But when I became a bad baronet, you very properly loved Richard instead? ”

“ I have duly committed a crime a day! Not a great crime, I trust, but still, in the eyes of one as strictly regulated as I used to be, a crime. But will my ghostly ancestors be satisfied with what I have done, or will they regard it as an unworthy subterfuge? [Addressing Pictures.] Oh, my forefathers, wallowers in blood, there came at last a day when, sick of crime, you, each and every, vowed to sin no more, and so, in agony, called welcome Death to free you from your cloying guiltiness. ”

“ Rose.A few gifts, dear aunt, for deserving villagers. Lo, here is some peppermint rock for old gaffer Gadderby, a set of false teeth for pretty little Ruth Rowbottom, and a pound of snuff for the poor orphan girl on the hill.
Han.Ah, Rose, pity that so much goodness should not help to make some gallant youth happy for life! Rose, why dost thou harden that little heart of thine? Is there none hereaway whom thou couldst love?
Rose.And if there were such an one, verily it would ill become me to tell him so.
Han.Nay, dear one, where true love is, there is little need of prim formality. ”

“ Rich. [Looking after him.] Ah, it's a thousand pities he's such a poor opinion of himself, for a finer fellow don't walk! Well, I'll do my best for him. "Plead for him as though it was for your own father"—that's what my heart's a remarkin' to me just now. But here she comes! Steady! Steady it is! [Enter Rose—he is much struck by her.] By the Port Admiral but she's a tight little craft! Come, come, she's not for you, Dick, and yet—she's fit to marry Lord Nelson! By the Flag of Old England, I can't look at her unmoved.
Rose. Sir, you are agitated—
Rich. Aye, aye, my lass, well said! ”

“ Rich. My poor lad, my heart grieves for thee, but it's like this: the moment I see her, and just as I was a-goin' to mention your name, my heart it up and it says, says it—"Dick, you've fell in love with her yourself," it says. "Be honest and sailor-like—don't skulk under false colours—speak up," it says. "Take her, you dog, and with her my blessin'!"
Bridesmaids. "Hail the Bridegroom—hail the bride!"—
Rob. Will you be quiet! Go away! [Chorus make faces at him and exeunt.] Vulgar girls!
Rich. What could I do? I'm bound to obey my heart's dictates. ”

“ Sir Rod.
Alas, poor ghost!
The pity you
Express for nothing goes:
We spectres are a jollier crew
Than you, perhaps, suppose!
Chorus.
Yes! yes!
We spectres are a jollier crew
Than you, perhaps, suppose!
Ha! ha!
Song—Sir Roderic
When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies—
When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs bay at the moon,
Then is the spectres' holiday—then is the ghosts' high-noon!
Chorus
Ha! ”

“ If that's all you've got to say, you'd better go back to your frames.
Sir Rod. Very good—then let the agonies commence.
[Ghosts make passes. Robin begins to writhe in agony.
Rob. Oh! Oh! Don't do that! I can't stand it!
Sir Rod. Painful, isn't it? It gets worse by degrees.
Rob. Oh—Oh! Stop a bit! Stop it, will you? I want to speak.
[Sir Roderic makes signs to Ghosts, who resume their attitudes.
Sir Rod. Better?
Rob. Yes—better now! Whew!
Sir Rod. Well, do you consent?
Rob. But it's such an ungentlemanly thing to do!
Sir Rod. As you please. [To Ghosts.] Carry on! ”

“ Hannah, who has taken a formidable dagger from one of the armed figures, throws her small dagger to Robin.
Han. Harkye, miscreant, you have secured me, and I am your poor prisoner; but if you think I cannot take care of myself
you are very much mistaken. ”

“ Admit that Dick is not a steady character, and that when he's excited he uses language that would make your hair curl.—Grant that—he does. It's the truth, and I'm not going to deny it. But look at his good qualities. He's as nimble as a pony, and his hornpipe is the talk of the fleet!
Rich. Thankye, Rob! That's well spoken. Thankye, Rob!
Rose. But it may be that he drinketh strong waters which do bemuse a man, and make him even as the wild beasts of the desert! ”

“ Isn't generally heard, and if it is it doesn't matter!
Rob.⁠⁠If it is it doesn't matter—
Mar.⁠⁠If it ain't it doesn't matter—
All. If it is it doesn't matter, matter, matter, matter, matter!
[Exeunt Despard and Margaret
Enter Adam
Adam. [Guiltily.] Master—the deed is done!
Rob. What deed?
Adam. She is here—alone, unprotected—
Rob. Who?
Adam. The maiden. I've carried her off—I had a hard task, for she fought like a tiger-cat!
Rob. Great Heaven, I had forgotten her! I had hoped to have died unspotted by crime, but I am foiled again—and by a tiger-cat! Produce her—and leave us! ”

“ Yet, as we are here alone, and as I belong to that particular description of good old man to whom the truth is a refreshing novelty, let me call you by your own right title once more! [Robin assents.] Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd! Baronet! Of Ruddigore! Whew! It's like eight hours at the sea-side!
Rob. My poor old friend! Would there were more like you!
Adam. Would there were indeed! But I bring you good tidings. Your foster-brother, Richard, has returned from sea—his ship the Tom-Tit rides yonder at anchor, and he himself is even now in this very village!
Rob. My beloved foster-brother? ”

“ The man who bites his bread, or eats peas with a knife, I look upon as a lost creature, and he who has not acquired the proper way of entering and leaving a room is the object of my pitying horror. There are those in this village who bite their nails, dear aunt, and nearly all are wont to use their pocket combs in public places. In truth I could pursue this painful theme much further, but behold, I have said enough.
Han.But is there not one among them who is faultless, in thine eyes? For example—young Robin. ”

“ Oh, I'm glad of that. [To Margaret.] Yes, he's married you now [passing her over to Despard] , and anything more disreputable than my conduct seems to have been I've never even heard of. But my mind is made up—I will defy my ancestors. I will refuse to obey their behests, and thus, by courting death, atone in some degree for the infamy of my career! ”

“ Han.Nay, gentle maidens, you sing well but vainly, for Rose is still heart-free, and looks but coldly upon her many suitors.
Zor.It's very disappointing. Every young man in the village is in love with her, but they are appalled by her beauty and modesty, and won't declare themselves; so, until she makes her own choice, there's no chance for anybody else. ”

“ Granted—granted—and I don't say that Dick isn't as bad as any of 'em. [Dick chuckles.] You are, you know you are, you dog! a devil of a fellow—a regular out-and-out Lothario! But what then? You can't have everything, and a better hand at turning-in a dead-eye don't walk a deck! And what an accomplishment that is in a family man! No, no—not a word against Dick. I'll stick up for him through thick and thin!
Rich. Thankye, Rob, thankye. You're a true friend. I've acted accordin' to my heart's dictates, and such orders as them no man should disobey.
Ensemble—Richard, Robin, and Rose ”

“ Ruth.This is, perhaps, the only village in the world that possesses an endowed corps of professional bridesmaids who are bound to be on duty every day from ten to four—and it is at least six months since our services were required. The pious charity by which we exist is practically wasted!
Zor.We shall be disendowed—that will be the end of it! Dame Hannah—you're a nice old person—you could marry if you liked. There's old Adam—Robin's faithful servant—he loves you with all the frenzy of a boy of fourteen.
Han.Nay—that may never be, for I am pledged! ”

“ Yes, unless you undertake to carry off a lady at once—I don't care what lady—any lady—choose your lady—you perish in inconceivable agonies.
Rob. Carry off a lady? Certainly not, on any account. I've the greatest respect for ladies, and I wouldn't do anything of the kind for worlds! ”

“ Rich. That's true, my lass, but it's done now, ain't it, Rob?
Rose. Still it may be that I should not be happy in thy love. I am passing young and little able to judge. Moreover, as to thy character I know naught!
Rob. Nay, Rose, I'll answer for that. Dick has won thy love fairly. Broken-hearted as I am, I'll stand up for Dick through thick and thin!
Dick. [With emotion.] Thankye, messmate! that's well said. That's spoken honest. ”

“ And may I ask why you have left your frames?
Sir Rod. It is our duty to see that our successors commit their daily crimes in a conscientious and workmanlike fashion. It is our duty to remind you that you are evading the conditions under which you are permitted to exist.
Rob. Really, I don't know what you'd have. I've only been a bad baronet a week, and I've committed a crime punctually every day.
Sir Rod. Let us inquire into this. Monday?
Rob. Monday was a Bank Holiday.
Sir Rod. True. Tuesday? ”

“ Your—what I would call bumptious self-assertiveness (I mean the expression in its complimentary sense) has already made you a bos'n's mate, and it will make an admiral of you in time, if you work it properly, you dear, incompetent old impostor! ”

“ Scene—Picture Gallery in Ruddigore Castle. The walls are covered with full-length portraits of the Baronets of Ruddigore from the time of James I—the first being that of Sir Rupert, alluded to in the legend; the last, that of the last deceased Baronet, Sir Roderic.
Enter Robin and Adam melodramatically. They are greatly altered in appearance, Robin wearing the haggard aspect of a guilty roué; Adam, that of the wicked steward to such a man. ”