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                           CHORUS

                    Yes!  Contrasted when
                    With Englishmen,
          Are little better than half-clothed barbarians!

       Enter all the Flowers of Progress, led by Fitzbattleaxe.


              SOLOS -- Zara and the Flowers of Progress.

               (Presenting Captain Fitzbattleaxe)

          When Britain sounds the trump of war
               (And Europe trembles),
          The army of the conqueror
               In serried ranks assemble;
          'Tis then this warrior's eyes and sabre gleam
               For our protection--
          He represents a military scheme
               In all its proud perfection!

Chorus:                       Yes--yes
          He represents a military scheme
                    In all its proud perfection.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

                         SOLO -- Zara.

           (Presenting Sir Bailey Barre, Q.C., M.P.)

     A complicated gentleman allow to present,
     Of all the arts and faculties the terse embodiment,
     He's a great arithmetician who can demonstrate with ease
     That two and two are three or five or anything you please;
     An eminent Logician who can make it clear to you
          That black is white--when looked at from the proper point of
               view;
          A marvelous Philologist who'll undertake to show
     That "yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."

Sir Bailey:              Yes--yes--yes--
     "Yes" is but another and a neater form of "no."
     All preconceived ideas on any subject I can scout,
     And demonstrate beyond all possibility of doubt,
     That whether you're an honest man or whether you're a thief
     Depends on whose solicitor has given me my brief.

Chorus:                  Yes--yes--yes
          That whether your'e an honest man, etc.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

Zara:          (Presenting Lord Dramaleigh and County Councillor)
               What these may be, Utopians all,
                    Perhaps you'll hardly guess--
               They're types of England's physical
                    And moral cleanliness.
               This is a Lord High Chamberlain,
                    Of purity the gauge--
               He'll cleanse our court from moral stain
                    And purify our Stage.

Lord D.:                 Yes--yes--yes
               Court reputations I revise,
               And presentations scrutinize,
               New plays I read with jealous eyes,
                    And purify the Stage.

Chorus:             Court reputations, etc.

Zara:          This County Councillor acclaim,
                    Great Britain's latest toy--
               On anything you like to name
                    His talents he'll employ--

               All streets and squares he'll purify
                    Within your city walls,
               And keep meanwhile a modest eye
                    On wicked music halls.

C.C.:                    Yes--yes--yes
               In towns I make improvements great,
               Which go to swell the County Rate--
               I dwelling-houses sanitate,
                    And purify the Halls!

Chorus:   In towns he makes improvements great, etc.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

                         SOLO -- Zara:

                   (Presenting Mr. Goldbury)

     A Company Promoter this with special education,
     Which teaches what Contango means and also Backwardation--
     To speculators he supplies a grand financial leaven,
     Time was when two were company--but now it must be seven.

Mr. Gold.:               Yes--yes--yes
          Stupendous loans to foreign thrones
               I've largely advocated;
          In ginger-pops and peppermint-drops
               I've freely speculated;
          Then mines of gold, of wealth untold,
               Successfully I've floated
          And sudden falls in apple-stalls
               Occasionally quoted.
          And soon or late I always call
               For Stock Exchange quotation--
          No schemes too great and none too small
               For Companification!

Chorus:   Yes! Yes! Yes!  No schemes too great, etc.
               Ulahlica! Ulahlica! Ulahlica!

Zara:     (Presenting Capt. Sir Edward Corcoran, R.N.) 

          And lastly I present
               Great Britain's proudest boast,
          Who from the blows
          Of foreign foes
               Protects her sea-girt coast--
          And if you ask him in respectful tone,
          He'll show you how you may protect your own!

                    SOLO -- Captain Corcoran

          I'm Captain Corcoran, K.C.B.,
          I'll teach you how we rule the sea,
               And terrify the simple Gauls;
          And how the Saxon and the Celt
          Their Europe-shaking blows have dealt
          With Maxim gun and Nordenfelt
               (Or will when the occasion calls).
          If sailor-like you'd play your cards,
          Unbend your sails and lower your yards,
               Unstep your masts--you'll never want 'em more.
          Though we're no longer hearts of oak,
          Yet we can steer and we can stoke,
          And thanks to coal, and thanks to coke,
               We never run a ship ashore!

All:      What never?

Capt.:                             No, never!

All:      What never?

Capt:                              Hardly ever!

All:           Hardly ever run a ship ashore!
          Then give three cheers, and three cheers more,
          For the tar who never runs his ship ashore;
          Then give three cheers, and three cheers more,
               For he never runs his ship ashore!

                             CHORUS

          All hail, ye types of England's power--
               Ye heaven-enlightened band!
          We bless the day and bless the hour
               That brought you to our land.

                            QUARTET

          Ye wanderers from a mighty State,
          Oh, teach us how to legislate--
          Your lightest word will carry weight,
               In our attentive ears.
          Oh, teach the natives of this land
          (Who are not quick to understand)
          How to work off their social and
               Political arrears!

Capt. Fitz.:   Increase your army!
Lord D.:                                Purify your court!
Capt. Corc:    Get up your steam and cut your canvas short!
Sir B.:        To speak on both sides teach your sluggish brains!
Mr. B.:        Widen your thoroughfares, and flush your drains!
Mr. Gold.:     Utopia's much too big for one small head--
               I'll float it as a Company Limited!

King:          A Company Limited?  What may that be?
               The term, I rather think, is new to me.

Chorus:        A company limited? etc.

Sca, Phant, and Tara (Aside)
          What does he mean?  What does he mean?
               Give us a kind of clue!
          What does he mean?  What does he mean?
               What is he going to do?

SONG -- Mr. Goldbury 

          Some seven men form an Association
               (If possible, all Peers and Baronets),
          The start off with a public declaration
               To what extent they mean to pay their debts.
          That's called their Capital; if they are wary
               They will not quote it at a sum immense.
          The figure's immaterial--it may vary
               From eighteen million down to eighteenpence.
                    I should put it rather low;
                    The good sense of doing so
               Will be evident at once to any debtor.
                    When it's left to you to say
                    What amount you mean to pay,
               Why, the lower you can put it at, the better.

Chorus:             When it's left to you to say, etc.

          They then proceed to trade with all who'll trust 'em
               Quite irrespective of their capital
          (It's shady, but it's sanctified by custom);
               Bank, Railway, Loan, or Panama Canal.
          You can't embark on trading too tremendous--
               It's strictly fair, and based on common sense--
          If you succeed, your profits are stupendous--
               And if you fail, pop goes your eighteenpence.

               Make the money-spinner spin!
               For you only stand to win,
          And you'll never with dishonesty be twitted.
               For nobody can know,
               To a million or so,
          To what extent your capital's committed!

Chorus:             No, nobody can know, etc.

          If you come to grief, and creditors are craving
               (For nothing that is planned by mortal head
          Is certain in this Vale of Sorrow--saving
               That one's Liability is Limited),--
          Do you suppose that signifies perdition?
               If so, you're but a monetary dunce--
          You merely file a Winding-Up Petition,
               And start another Company at once!
               Though a Rothschild you may be
               In your own capacity,
          As a Company you've come to utter sorrow--
               But the Liquidators say,
               "Never mind--you needn't pay,"
          So you start another company to-morrow!

Chorus:             But the liquidators say, etc.

King:     Well, at first sight it strikes us as dishonest,
          But if its's good enough for virtuous England--
          The first commercial country in the world--
          It's good enough for us.

Sca., Phan., Tar. (aside to the King)
                                   You'd best take care--
          Please recollect we have not been consulted.

King:     And do I understand that Great Britain
          Upon this Joint Stock principle is governed?

Mr. G.:   We haven't come to that, exactly--but
          We're tending rapidly in that direction.
          The date's not distant.

King: (enthusiastically)      We will be before you!
          We'll go down in posterity renowned
          As the First Sovereign in Christendom
          Who registered his Crown and Country under
          The Joint Stock Company's Act of Sixty-Two.

All:      Ulahlica!

                             SOLO -- King

               Henceforward, of a verity,
                    With Fame ourselves we link--
               We'll go down to Posterity 
                    Of sovereigns all the pink!

Sca., Phan., Tar.: (aside to King)
               If you've the mad temerity
                    Our wishes thus to blink,
               You'll go down to Posterity,
                    Much earlier than you think!

Tar.: (correcting them)

               He'll go up to Posterity,
                    If I inflict the blow!

Sca., Phan.: (angrily)

               He'll go down to Posterity--
                    We think we ought to know!

Tar.: (explaining)  He'll go up to Posterity,
               Blown up with dynamite!

Sca., Phan.: (apologetically)

               He'll go up to Posterity,
                    Of course he will, you're right!

                            ENSEMBLE

 King, Lady Sophy, Nek.,      Sca., Phan, and Tar      Fitz. and Zara (aside)
 Kal., Calynx and Chorus             (aside)

Henceforward of a verity,    If he has the temerity    Who love with all sincerity;
  With fame ourselves we     Our wishes thus to blink    Their lives may safely link.
     link--
And go down to Posterity,    He'll go up to Posterity  And as for our posterity
  Of sovereigns all pink!      Much earlier than they    We don't care what they think!
                                 think!

                             CHORUS

                    Let's seal this mercantile pact--
                         The step we ne'er shall rue--
                    It gives whatever we lacked--
                         The statement's strictly true.
                    All hail, astonishing Fact!
                         All hail, Invention new--
                    The Joint Stock Company's Act--
                         The Act of Sixty-Two!

                             END OF ACT I