The Mikado Page #7

disguised as a second trombone.

A second trombone!

Yes. Would it be troubling you too

much if I asked you to produce him?

He goes by the name of, uh - of, uh -

- Nanki-Poo.

- Nanki-Poo.

Nanki-Poo?

Oh, not at all.

It's quite easy. Uh -

Th-That is, it's rather difficult.

In point of fact, he's gone abroad.

Gone abroad?

See here! His name!

Nanki-Poo - beheaded this morning.

Oh, where shall I find another?

Where shall I find another?

Dear, dear, dear.

This is very tiresome.

My poor fellow, in your anxiety

to carry out my wishes...

you've beheaded

the heir to the throne of Japan.

I beg to offer an unqualified apology.

I desire to associate myself

with that expression of regret.

We really hadn't the least notion.

Of course you hadn't.

How could you?

If a man of exalted rank chooses

to disguise himself as a second trombone...

he must take the consequences.

I've no doubt he thoroughly

deserved all he got.

We are infinitely

obliged to Your Majesty.

Much obliged, Your Majesty.

Very much obliged, Your Majesty.

Obliged? Not a bit. Don't mention it.

How could you tell?

No. Of course we couldn't tell

who the gentleman really was.

It wasn't written on his forehead,

you know.

It might have been

on his pocket handkerchief...

but Japanese don't use

pocket handkerchiefs.

I forget the punishment for compassing

the death of the heir apparent.

"Punishment. "

Hmm. Yes. Uh -

Uh -

Something lingering,

with boiling oil in it, I fancy.

Something of that sort.

I think boiling oil occurs in it,

but I'm not sure.

And I know it's something

humorous, but lingering -

with either boiling oil

or melted lead.

Come, come.

Don't fret. I'm not a bit angry.

If Your Majesty will accept our

assurance, we had no idea -

- Of course.

- I knew nothing about it.

I wasn't there.

Unfortunately, the fool of an act says

"compassing the death of the heir apparent. "

Yes.

- There's not a word in it

about a mistake. - No.

- Or not knowing.

- No!

- Or having no notion.

- No.

- Or not being there.

- No.

- There should be, of course.

- Yes.

But there isn't.

That's the slovenly way

these acts are always drawn.

Now, let's see.

About your execution -

Would after luncheon suit you?

Can you wait till then?

Oh, yes. We can wait till then.

Very well then.

We'll make it tomorrow, after luncheon.

Um, I shan't want any lunch.

Well! And a nice mess

you've got us into...

with your nodding head and "the

deference due to a man of pedigree. "

Merely corroborative detail,

intended to give artistic verisimilitude...

to an otherwise bald

and unconvincing narrative.

Corroborative detail indeed.

Corroborative fiddlestick.

Oh, you're just as bad as he is...

with your cock-and-a-bull story about

catching his eye and whistling an air.

But that's so like you.

You must put in your oar.

But how about your big right arm?

Yes. And your snickersnee.

Yeah. Well, well -

Well, never mind about that now.

There's only one thing to be done.

Nanki-Poo hasn't started yet.

He must come to life again at once.

Nanki-Poo! Nanki-Poo!

- I'm a dead man, and I'm off

for my honeymoon. - Oh, wait, wait.

Nanki-Poo! Nanki-Poo!

I've good news for you.

- You're reprieved.

- Oh, but it's too late.

Nonsense.

A terrible thing has just happened.

It seems that you are

the son of the Mikado.

Oh, but that happened some time ago.

Is this a time for airy persiflage?

Your father is here -

and with Katisha.

- My father? And with Katisha?

- Yes. He wants you particularly.

Oh! So does she.

- But he's married now. - Bless me

heart. What has that got to do with it?

Well, Katisha claims me in

marriage, but I'm married already.

Consequently, she'll insist on my execution,

and my wife will have to be buried alive.

I don't know what's to be done.

There's one chance for you. If you

can persuade Katisha to marry you -

Ah, but wait.

I can then come to life without

any fear of being put to death.

I marry Katisha?

I really think it's the only course.

But, my good girl...

have you seen her?

She's something appalling.

Well, it comes to this: While Katisha is

single, I prefer to be a disembodied spirit.

When Katisha is married, existence

will be as welcome as the flowers in spring.

# The flowers that bloom in the spring

Tra-la #

# Breathe promise of merry sunshine #

# As we merrily dance and we sing

Tra-la #

# We welcome the hope that they bring

Tra-la #

# Of a summer of roses and wine #

# Of a summer of roses and wine #

# And that's what we mean

when we say that a thing #

# Is welcome as flowers

that bloom in the spring #

# Tra-la-la-la-la

Tra-la-la-la-la #

# The flowers that bloom in the spring #

# Tra-la-la-la-la

Tra-la-la-la-la #

# Tra-la-la-la-la-la #

# The flowers that bloom in the spring

Tra-la #

# Have nothing to do with the case #

# For I've got to take under my wing

Tra-la #

# A most unattractive old thing

Tra-la #

# With a caricature of a face #

# With a caricature of a face #

# And that's what I mean when I say

or I sing #

# Oh, bother the flowers

that bloom in the spring #

# Tra-la-la-la-la

Tra-la-la-la-la #

# Bother the flowers of spring #

# Tra-la-la-la-la

Tra-la-la-la-la #

# Tra-la-la-la-la-la #

# The flowers that bloom in the spring

Tra-la #

# Have nothing to do with the case #

# For I've got to take under my wing

Tra-la #

# A most unattractive old thing #

# With a caricature of a face #

# With a caricature of a face #

# And that's what I mean

when I say or I sing #

# Oh, bother the flowers

that bloom in the spring #

#Tra #

# Tra-la-la-la-la

Tra-la-la-la-la #

# Oh, bother the flowers of spring #

# Tra-la-la-la-la

Tra-la-la-la-la #

# Tra-la-la-la-la-la ##

Katisha.

The miscreant who robbed me

of my love.

But vengeance pursues.

They are heating the cauldron.

Katisha, behold a suppliant

at your feet.

Katisha, mercy.

Mercy?

Had you mercy on him?

You have slain my love.

Well, he is dead,

and where shall I find another?

It takes years to train

a man to love me.

Where shall I find another?

Here.

Here!

What?

Katisha, for years I have loved

you with a white-hot passion...

which is slowly but surely

consuming my very vitals!

Ah, shrink not from me.

Kat -

Katisha, I dare not

hope for your love...

but I will not live without it.

Darling!

You! You, whose hands still reek

with the blood of my betrothed...

dare to address words of passion to

the woman you have so foully wronged?

I do. Accept my love,

or I perish on the spot!

Go to!

Who knows so well as I that no one

ever yet died of a broken heart.

You know not what you say.

Listen.

# On a tree by a river a little tomtit #

# Sang

Willow, tit-willow, tit-willow #

# And I said to him

Dickey bird, why do you sit #

# Singing

Willow, tit-willow, tit-willow #

# Is it weakness of intellect, birdie

I cried #

# Or a rather tough worm

in your little inside #

# With a shake of

his poor little head #

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