I spent the evening at a performance of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience or, Bunthorne’s Bride and feel compelled to share.
Patience is the story of two poets–Reginald Bunthorne, an idyllic poet; and Archibald Grosvenor, a fleshly poet–both of whom love Patience, the milkmaid. Patience, a happy girl who at first says she has never loved anyone except her great-aunt, confesses she does loves her childhood friend, Grosvenor; and Grosvenor loves Patience.
Patience, however, having been told that pure love is unselfish, says she cannot love Grosvenor, because her love would be selfish, since she really loves him. She says she must love Bunthorne, because, since she does not love him, that love would be unselfish and therefore pure.
Are still with me?
Bunthorne, at first delighted with Patience’s profession of love, becomes jealous when the handsome Grosvenor appears and attracts the attention of the twenty lovesick maidens, who leave Bunthorne to tag along after Grosvenor (from Monday to Saturday, until he requests a half-holiday). The jealous Bunthorne makes Patience miserable, which is exactly what a person loving unselfishly is supposed to be…
And then there are Jane and the 35th Dragoons.
And more complications.
In the passage below, Bunthorne reads one of his poems to the twenty lovesick maidens and the completely un-lovesick Patience.
*****
Bunthorne. … The poem is finished, and my soul has gone out into it. That was all. It was nothing worth mentioning, it occurs three times a day. (Sees Patience, who has entered during this scene.) Ah, Patience! Dear Patience! (Holds her hand; she seems frightened.)
Angela. Will it please you read it to us, sir?
Saphir. This we supplicate. (All kneel.)
Bunthorne. Shall I?
Dragoons. No!
Bunthorne. (annoyed – to Patience) I will read it if you bid me!
Patience. (much frightened) You can if you like!
Bunthorne. It is a wild, weird, fleshy thing; yet very tender, very yearning, very precious. It is called, “Oh, Hollow! Hollow! Hollow!”
Patience. Is it a hunting song?
Bunthorne. A hunting song? No, it is not a hunting song. It is the wail of the poet’s heart on discovering that everything is commonplace. To understand it, cling passionately to one another and think of faint lilies. (They do so as he recites)
“OH, HOLLOW! HOLLOW! HOLLOW!”
What time the poet hath hymned
The writhing maid, lithe-limbed,
Quivering on amaranthine asphodel,
How can he paint her woes,
Knowing, as well he knows,
That all can be set right with calomel?
When from the poet’s plinth
The amorous colocynth
Yearns for the aloe, faint with rapturous thrills,
How can he hymn their throes
Knowing, as well he knows,
That they are only uncompounded pills?
Is it, and can it be,
Nature hath this decree,
Nothing poetic in the world shall dwell?
Or that in all her works
Something poetic lurks,
Even in colocynth and calomel?
I cannot tell.
Exit Bunthorne.
Angela. How purely fragrant!
Saphir. How earnestly precious!
Patience. Well, it seems to me to be nonsense.
Saphir. Nonsense, yes, perhaps – but oh, what precious nonsense!
Precious nonsense: Mr. Gilbert’s words describe Bunthorne’s poem–and the entire play.
As Andy Griffith said of Hamlet, it’s a pretty good show.
Sounds like a lovely evening. (and Andy Griffith is a sage.)
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It was lovely, and I agree with you about Andy Griffith. As a resident of a small Southern town, I classified his TV show as gritty realism.
Thanks for the visit and the comment.
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Such a wit, WS Gilbert 😀 I love his stuff even if Queen Victoria didn’t. If I had ben queen, I would have knighted him.
Your first picture stopped me in my tracks – it’s the author of more precious nonsense, the Diary Of A Nobody, isn’t it? One book I would HAVE to have on a desert island.
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Gilbert is one of my idols. I’m sure if Prince Albert had lived, he’d have made the Queen see the error of her ways.
Thanks for the tip on the Diary of a Nobody. I found it online and am going to order it. I need a desert island book.
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Thanks for the laugh. *Is it a hunting song?* Too funny! I’ve never seen or read this play. I hope to someday!
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It was a delight. Not so good as the Mikado, of course, but nothing is.
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what fun!
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‘Twas. Wish you could have been there.
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love this
thanks for the 🙂
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Thank you. I owe you a lot of :-)s in exchange for all the cats.
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Nah, nothing owed 🙂
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There is nothing so preciously nonsensical as Gilbert & Sullivan.
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Exactly.
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Great stuff! I’ve nominated you for The Very Inspiring Blogger Award, congrats! 🙂
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Thank you so much! I’m honored to be nominated for this award, especially by a Cat Protectress.
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Hey Kathy,
I love your restful banner. It looks like the environment I choose when I want to find my “happy place.”
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I’m glad you like it. I grew up along (and in) that river. No place like home.
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Kathy, a chance visit brought me here. I was raised on Gilbert and Sullivan, and have loved these operas all my life. Thank you for sharing your experience.
You made my day!
John
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John,
It’s great to hear from another lover of Gilbert and Sullivan. I wasn’t raised on them, but I found them as soon as possible.
Thank you for saying I made your day. Your doing so made my day!
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