Operas Every Child Should Know

"Nancy, girl, you are not what I sought for – a good servant – but some way, I feel as if – as if as a wife, I should find thee a good one. I vow, I begin to love thee, for all of thy bothersome little ways."

"Well, well, good-night, good-night, sirs," Nancy cried hastily and somewhat disconcerted. To tell the truth, she had begun to think kindly of Plunkett. Plunkett went thoughtfully to the outer door and carefully locked it, then turned and regarded the girls who stood silently and a little sadly, apart.

"Good-night," he said: and Lionel looking tenderly at Martha murmured, "Good-night," and the two men went away to their own part of the house, leaving the girls alone.

"Nancy – " Martha whispered softly, after a moment.

"Madame?"

"What next? – how escape?"

"How can we go?"

"We must – "

"It is very dark and the way is strange to us," she said, sadly and fearfully.

"Well, fortune has given us gentle masters, at least," Martha murmured.

"Yes – kind and good – "

"What if the Queen should hear of this?"

"Oh, Lord!" And at that moment came a soft knocking at the window. Both girls started. "What's that?" More knocking! "Gracious heaven! I am nearly dead with fear," Martha whispered, looking stealthily about. Nancy pointed to the window.

"Look – " Martha looked.

"Tristram – Sir Tristram!" she whispered excitedly. "Open the window. I can't move, I am so scared. Now, he'll rave – and I can't resent it. We deserve anything he may say." Nancy opened the window, and Sir Tristram stepped in softly, upon receiving a caution from the girls.

"Lady Harriet, this is most monstrous."

"Oh, my soul! Don't we know it. Don't wake the farmers up, in heaven's name! Things are bad enough without making them worse."

"Yes, let us fly, and make as little row about it as we can," Nancy implored.

"Then come – no words. I have my carriage waiting; follow me quickly and say good-bye to this hovel."

"Hovel?" Lady Harriet looked about. Suddenly she had a feeling of regret. "Hovel?"

"Nay," Nancy interrupted. "To this peaceful house – good-bye." Nancy, too, had a regret. They had had a gleeful hour here, among frank and kindly folk, even if they had also been a bit frightened. Anything that had gone wrong with them had been their fault. Tristram placed a bench at the window that the ladies might climb over, and thus they got out, and immediately the sound of their carriage wheels was heard in the yard. Plunkett had waked up meantime and had come out to call the girls. It was time for their day's work to begin. Farmer folk are out of bed early.

"Ho, girls! – time to be up," he called, entering from his chamber. Then he saw the open window. He paused. "Do I hear carriage wheels – and the window open – and the bench – and the girls – gone! Ho there! Everybody!" he rushed out and furiously pulled the bell which hung from the pole outside. His farmhands come running. "Ho – those girls hired yesterday have gone. Get after them. Bring them back. I may drop dead the next instant, but I'll be bound they shan't treat us in this manner. After them! Back they shall come!" And in the midst of all this confusion in ran Lionel.

"What – "

"Thieves! – the girls have run off – a nice return for our affections!"

"After them! – don't lose a minute," Lionel then cried in his turn, and away rushed the farmhands.

"They are ours for one year, by law. Bring them back, or ye shall suffer for it. Be off!" And the men mounted horses and went after the runaways like the wind.

"Nice treatment!"

"Shameful!" Plunkett cried, dropping into a chair, nearly fainting with rage.

ACT III

Plunkett's men had hunted far and wide for the runaways, but without success. The farmer was still sore over his defeat: he felt himself not only defrauded, but he had grown to love Nancy, and altogether he became very unhappy. One day he was sitting with his fellow farmers around a table in a little forest inn, drinking his glass of beer, when he heard the sound of hunting horns in the distance.

"Hello! a hunting party from the palace must be out," he remarked, but the music of the horn which once pleased him could no longer arouse him from his moodiness. Nevertheless an extraordinary thing was about to happen. As he went into the inn for a moment, into the grove whirled – Nancy! all bespangled in a rich hunting costume and accompanied by her friends who were enjoying the hunt with her. They were singing a rousing hunting chorus, but Martha – Lady Harriet – was not with them.

"What has happened to Lady Harriet?" some one questioned of Nancy, who was expected to know all her secrets.

"Alas – nothing interests her ladyship any more," she replied! Nancy knew perfectly well that, ever since their escapade, Harriet had thought of nothing but Lionel. For Nancy's part, she had not thought of much besides Plunkett; but she did not mean to reveal the situation to the court busybodies. Then while the huntresses were roaming about the inn, out came Plunkett! and Nancy, not perceiving at first who he was, went up to him and began to speak.

"Pray, my good man, can you tell – Good heaven!" she exclaimed, recognizing him; "Plunkett!"

"Yes, madame, Plunkett; and now Plunkett will see if you get the better of him a second time. We'll let the sheriff settle this matter, right on the spot."

"Man, you are mad. Do not breathe my name or each huntress here shall take aim and bring you down. Ho, there!" she cried distractedly to her friends; and she took aim at Plunkett, while all of the others closed round him. It was then Plunkett's turn to beg for mercy.

"They're upon me, they've undone me!" he cried. "This is serious," and so indeed it was. "But oh, dear me, there is a remarkable charm in these girls, even if they do threaten a man's life," and still looking back over his shoulder, away he ran, pursued by the girls. They had no sooner gone than Lionel came in. He was looking disconsolately at the flowers to which Martha sang the "Last Rose of Summer." He himself sang a few measures of the song and then looked about him.

"Ah," he sighed, thinking still of Martha:

[Listen]

None so rare,
None so fair,
Yet enraptur'd mortal heart;
Maiden dear.
Past compare,
Oh, 'twas death from thee to part!
Ere I saw thy sweet face
On my heart there was no trace
Of that love from above,
That in sorrow now I prove;
but alas, thou art gone,
And in grief I mourn alone;
Life a shadow doth seem,
And my joy a fleeting dream,
A fleeting dream.
None so rare, etc.

And after he had sung thus touchingly of Martha, he threw himself down on the grass, and remained absorbed in his thoughts. But while he was resting there, Lady Harriet and Sir Tristram had also wandered thither. At first they did not see Lionel.

"I have come here away from the others, in order to be alone," Harriet declared impatiently.