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WS Gilbert A Mid-Victorian Aristophanes - Haddon Hall

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30 THE ENGLISH ARISTOPHANES<br />

While the selfishness of the “little fireside games” in Engaged — tailoring with “real<br />

cloth, you know; and if it fits it counts one to you” — almost fires the mind of Cheviot<br />

Hill. But on the whole a sturdy and wholesome affection — the sort of tender loyalty that<br />

runs right through Trollope’s novels — holds <strong>Gilbert</strong>’s heart even while his pleasantries<br />

play with it. Elsie’s song at the end of The Yeomen of the Guard, which<br />

Is sung with the ring of the song maids sing<br />

Who love with a love life-long O!<br />

Patience’s two love-songs, the last the most poetical, of<br />

Love that will aye endure<br />

Though the rewards be few.<br />

The first, that warns with sadness,<br />

If love is a nettle that makes you smart,<br />

Why do you wear it next your heart?<br />

Teresa’s dirge in The Mountebanks,<br />

My heart it is sad and a-weary my head,<br />

For I weep and I die for the love that is dead.<br />

All these, with many more, attest his wholesome love of love’s wholesomeness.<br />

And, above all, that frank apotheosis of the “English Girl” in Utopia, which gains<br />

double point from its place on the company-promoter’s lips and remains as a protest<br />

against the decadence and anemia trounced in Patience by<br />

Then a sentimental passion of a vegetable fashion<br />

Must excite your languid spleen,<br />

An attachment à la Plato for a bashful young potato,<br />

Or a not-too-French French bean.<br />

The last stanza of this “English Girl” may well be recalled:<br />

Her soul is sweet as the ocean-air, for prudery knows no haven there;<br />

To find mock modesty, please apply<br />

To the conscious blush and the down-cast eye.<br />

Rich in the things contentment brings. In every pure enjoyment wealthy;<br />

Blithe as a beautiful bird she sings, for body and mind are hale and healthy.<br />

Her eyes they thrill with a light good will,<br />

Her heart is light as a floating feather<br />

As pure and bright as the mountain rill<br />

That leaps and laughs in the Highland heather.<br />

Go search the world and search the sea, then come you home and sing with me,<br />

There’s no such gold and no such pearl, as a bright and beautiful English girl.

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