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The eccentric VICEROY has perfected the art of disguise --
up to a point.
CHORUS
In camouflage comes our Viceroy.
A fool would know him well enough;
But better not expose his ploy;
We'll play along, pretend and bluff.
VICEROY
Without a word, no hint, no hassle,
I steal outside at break of day,
Discard my crown, disown my castle
To make a stealthy getaway.
On the town, with a stack to squander,
Alert and in disguise I go;
At large and known to none I wander,
And known to none I wander
Incognito, incognito.
A bore to be a courtly king
Without a fling, philandering
Incognito!
With whiskers, cloak and smoky glasses,
At liberty and on my own,
I comb the street for lively lasses
That hanker for a baritone.
On the prowl, with purpose single,
I would play the Romeo,
And with the ladies mix and mingle,
With ladies mix and mingle
Incognito! Incognito!
I'd waste away and die at court
Without a taste of spice and sport
Incognito!
PERICHOLE writes a painful letter to her beloved Piquillo:
I adore you, my love, now as ever,
And for life will that love endure.
But too long we've struggled together,
Too long we've been ragged and poor.
No use to deny or delay it --
The words I must wring from my heart.
The time has come -- how can I say it?
Perhaps we'll do better apart.
Can lovers remain fond and tender
When forced to go hungry to bed?
Who can embrace in shared surrender
When craving a morsel of bread?
I am weak and only human.
I had hoped with my final breath
To bear out my pledge as a woman,
My hand in yours unto death.
So our dreams lie torn now in tatters;
I know it well -- what can I do?
Within my own heart, where it matters,
Forever I'll belong to you.
Oh, my darling! I share your sorrow,
And can find no words to console.
Far apart though we be tomorrow,
Think kindly of your Perichole.
PIQUILLO does the right thing and warns his unknown bride
about what she is letting herself in for.
My dear, I'd better warn you flatly
Before you say "I do, I do",
I love another woman madly
And cannot stand the sight of you.
Though some may find you most appealing,
My inner beast
You do not stir up in the least.
For you I've not a shred of feeling,
And when we wed
I'll have in mind another bed.
I've got a nasty, ghastly temper --
A wretched fault, we all admit.
Though coarse and brutal, do remember
I'm also dull and slow of wit.
If I appall you and repel you,
You yet may find
There still is time to change your mind.
But never say I did not tell you
That as my wife
Expect a miserable life....
PERICHOLE has sharp words for Piquillo, as well as
for the male sex in general.
My word! The way you carry on!
Sir, why this fit of childish rage?
Invited to a grand salon,
Instead of acting your own age,
Must you take over center stage?
To raise a row at my expence,
While I pursue your good alone!
Go help me God!
Your head is solid bone, bone, bone!
You men, you men!
My God, you men are dense!
So help me, men are dense!
PIQUILLO languishes in the jail cell reserved for recalcitrant husbands.
They tried to make me knuckle under;
I stood my ground, so here I am.
Forgive me if I start to wonder,
Is maybe virtue just a sham?
My dear wife, my darling,
This very moment, where are you?
My dear wife, my darling,
Could you be thinking of me, too?
While you are clad in gold and glitter
And lift a glass of Champagne,
I make a bed of straw and litter
And sigh, and wait,
And chew my nails in vain. Ah!
My dear wife, my darling,
This very moment, where are you?
My dear wife, my darling,
Could you be thinking of me, too?
Now the king appears, he advances,
He shuts the door to her boudoir;
Coming toward her, with tender glances,
He takes her hand, et cetera ...
He draws her close, et cetera ...
My dear wife, my darling,
When I implore, do you not hear?
My dearest, my darling,
So far away, and yet so near?
But what's the good of jealous fever
Inside a dark and lonely cell?
In sleep perhaps my thoughts can leave her,
And dreams can float me out of hell.
Though I try, sleep will not come near me;
My eyes stay open, come what may.
My darling, my darling, hear me ...
Are you thinking of me now?
So close, yet so far away.
So far away, so far away,
So far away ...
But PERICHOLE has more yet to tell Piquillo:
My goal, a dungeon cell,
Down dark and dismal hallways!
Piquillo! Piquillo!
Can you not figure out
The motive that compels,
That guides my footsteps always
And holds my course in tow?
My purpose can you doubt?
PIQUILLO
No hidden mystery!
The reason's rather clear --
You come to thumb your nose at me.
PÉRICHOLE
Oh, no, my dear! Oh, no, my dear!
I come to speak my heart.
PIQUILLO
For that you venture here?
PÉRICHOLE
Yes, this I swear and mean to show --
I seek no more than that,
My dearest Piquillo.
PIQUILLO
Say your piece, go ahead,
Countess of Tabago.
PÉRICHOLE
Let me speak.
PIQUILLO
Go ahead.
PÉRICHOLE
Make not a sound till all is said.
PIQUILLO
No, not a word till all is said.
PÉRICHOLE
You are not rich, handsome, or wise,
And none would call you overbright.
Men of the world, those on the rise,
Would cast you in a dreadful light.
As for skill, or a trace of talent,
To put it plainly, you're a mess;
For charming manners, smooth and gallant,
You draw a blank -- nonetheless ...
PIQUILLO
Nonetheless?
PÉRICHOLE
Nonetheless ...
You are all that I want,
I'm ashamed to confess;
I adore you and live only for your caress.
You are all that I want,
You're the rogue I adore;
In your arms I desire nothing more.
Three meals a day I'm not above --
At court they serve a rich repast.
Roaming with you, living on love,
A crust of bread was meant to last.
Here I have luxury untold,
A score of servants -- yes, oh yes --
Furs and flowing gowns, rings of gold,
Necklaces of pearl; nonetheless ...
PIQUILLO
Nonetheless?
PÉRICHOLE
Nonetheless ...
You are all that I want,
I'm ashamed to confess;
I adore you and live only for your caress.
You are all that I want,
You're the rogue I adore;
In your arms I desire nothing more.
Such words are bitter gall to the VICEROY:
Despair is gnawing at my vitals
And jealousy tears me in two.
My fortune and my worldly titles
I would trade for a love sincere and true....
PERICHOLE and PIQUILLO, free, rich and triumphant,
take off for parts unknown:
PIQUILLO
We birds of song, at times with drooping feather,
Have flown the course from hell to paradise.
PERICHOLE
But from the spot that brought us first together,
The time has come for tears and goodbyes.
PIQUILLO
So now we leave, like swallows in September;
To other skies we wing our way again.
PERICHOLE
Before we go, before we go,
We'd like you to remember:
BOTH
We're on the way!
We're on the way!
We're on the run to make a son for Spain!
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