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Peter in Blunderland. A Dialectical Fantasy in Two Negations [1945]

Act One

page break

Act One

(The first scene is played between front and centre tabs. It is a room in Parliament Buildings which is occupied by our hero, Peter. It is very bare, being furnished only with a d sk, up centre, littered with papers, and a chair behind it. A hat stand, or chest of drawers, with a looking-glass surmounting it, stands to the right of the desk. The stage is empty when the curtain rises. Suddenly, a Chorus of Typistes and Secretaries enters. They form a line in front of the footlights and sing).

Chorus - Typistes and Secretaries

(Air - "You Are My Sunshine" - hotted up).

We're Peter's typistes, we're Peter's flunkeys,
We blow his trumpet and his nose;
We calm his passions, collect his rations,
Love his friends, and hate his foes.

We work for Peter, for Pious Peter,
There's no one sweeter than Pious Pete;
Each senorita is sweet on Peter -
He's the friend of the Man in the Street.

We type his letters, and pay his debtors,
We wash his hands and scratch his back;
We brush his breeches, and write his speeches,
And we dress him, like Hamlet, in black.

We work for Peter, for Pious Peter;
There's no one sweeter than Pious Pete;
Each senorita is sweet on Peter -
He's the friend of the Man in the Street.

(After a very short ballet, if possible in the best Russian tradition, the chorus of the song is repeated once. The recitatives and songs which follow at this point are taken from Act I of "The Gondoliers" from the recitative, "See, See At Last They Come" to "We Sing Them To Sleep".)

1st Secretary: (Recit.)

See, see he comes! Observe his handsome face!
What tender charm! What dignity and grace!

(Enter Peter. on a tricycle, clad in ordinary clothes - one of his customary suits of solemn black. The Typistes and Secretaries kneel before him, and bow their heads to the ground. While they sing the following couplet. Peter rides round and round through their ranks on his tricycle.

Chorus:
Hail! Hail! Mighty, mighty Master, heaven-directed! heaven-directed!
Accept our love, oh pray do not reject it! Mighty Master! Mighty Master!

Solo and Chorus - Peter. Secretaries and Typistes

Peter:

Good morning, Secretaries,
And my typistes so beautiful!

Chorus: (Raising their heads)

Our devotion never varies,
Ever upright, ever dutiful!

page 2 Peter:

But why are you kneeling
In this parasitic attitude?

Chorus:

(Raising their heads)
Oh Master, all-healing,
We're displaying our gratitude!

(The Solo and Chorus are repeated once, Peter meanwhile performing interesting feats of horsemanship on his tricycle.) Finally, Peter comes to the foots, and, still mounted, sings the following song. The Chorus remains kneeling.)

Solo - Peter

I'm called Pious Peter
And each senorita
Vows no-one is sweeter
Or neater than I.

When laying foundations
Of churches and stations
By splendid orations
I make people cry.

By enemies branded
As rude and high-handed,
You'll see by the "Standard"
I'm righteous and fair.

My voice in the Caucus
Is rampant and raucous
And no-one can baulk us
When I'm in the chair.

My temper's splenetic,
My speeches phrenetic
And like an emetic,
They're noble and free.

They bore me no malice
At Buckingham Palace,
But gave me a chalice
Of sugarless tea.

With tender caresses
I told the Princesses
About my addresses
To the boys by the Nile.

And one of the Minxes
Said that's what she thinks is
The cause of the Sphinx's
Inscrutable smile!

Peter:

(To Chorus) Upsy-daisy!

(The Typistes and Secretaries rise briskly to their feet, and stand awaiting orders. Peter goes over to his desk and sits down, hanging his hat and tricycle on the stand.)

Peter:

Well, boys and girls, I've got a pleasant surprise for you. It's my birthday, and I'm going to give you all a holiday.

(General Jubilation. The Typistes and Secretaries dance round in a circle, singing:)

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, pretty Peter -
Happy birthday to you!

page 3 Peter:

Please don't wish me many happy returns. Sid Holland did that in Bellamy's, and I didn't like the way he said it. Go, children, and play in the sunshine. I want to be alone, so that I can work out my back pay.

(The Typistes and Secretaries exeunt, with whoops and cheers. Peter settles himself down in his chair and yawns.)

Peter:

Gosh, I'm tired. I think I'll have a little read first.

(He takes an enormous tome from the table, the title being "How To Win Friends and Influence People." He takes a quick glance, and then replaces it, with a gesture of disgust.)

Peter:

I've tried that. It's all a dirty lie.

(He takes up another huge volume, entitled "Railway Tribunal Evidence.")

Peter:

What's the use of a book without pictures, and all conversations, and such a lot of dissenting opinions?

(He replaces the large volume, and takes up a small book wrapped in a piece of paper. He unwraps it, and takes a note out of it.)

Peter:

(Reading). "Alice in Wonderland" - now where did this come from? (Reading the note). Why, it's from Mr. Boswell! "Dear Peter, I don't know what this is all about, but it's the English translation of a book that's all the rage in Moscow Just now. Send me a cable if there are any fruity passages. Stalin and I are in the pink. Yours, Bozzy." How nice of him! (Reads) "Through the Looking-Glass". (Pause) Say, this is cute. If it wasn't Russian, I'd probably like it. (Reads) "In another moment Alice was through the glass." Hmmm - she drinks too fast. Oh, I see - it's the Looking-Glass. She goes through the Looking-Glass into a New World. (Yawns) Wish I could find the way to a better world Just by going through a Looking-Glass! (Yawns, and looks at the looking-glass at the side of the desk). I wonder. Well, we tried Stabilisation and it nearly worked - I'll try anything once.

(Peter mounts the hatstand, and looks at the Looking-Glass).

Peter:

I suppose this is awfully silly (yawns) but I do so want to find the way to a Better World. Get ready - get steady - go!

(He dives through the Glass, and at that moment there is a blackout a crash of breaking glass, and a hidden orchestra plays a few bars of a stormy Wagnerian piece. A few seconds elapse, and then a spotlight catches Peter, right, walking slowly across the stage, in the midst of Stygian blackness. He is now wearing short pants and an open shirt.)

Peter:

Well, I've got here all right. But I'm just as much in the dark as I was when I went through the Looking-Glass. (Pause - looking about him) I wonder what it is makes me feel so small in this place?

(A second spot illuminates a sort of ticket-box, left down-stage, with a small pigeon-hole, and the words, "Turakina Tunnel, Enquiries" written on the front.)

Peter:

Ah - Turakina! That's what makes me feel so small! I didn't realise the explanation was so Semple! I wonder if there's anybody at home?

(He goes cautiously up to the ticket-box, and knocks timidly. The slide flies open suddenly, and the face of the Kidderminster Cat appears).

Peter:

Excuse me - er - the face is familiar - but --

page 4 Cat:

I am the Kidderminster Cat.

Peter:

I didn't know cats could talk.

Cat:

How strange! I'm sure there are few people who've heard more cat-calls in their time than you. (Sings, to the air of "Annie Laurie")

I'm the Cat from Kidderminster -
With my disarming grin
I charm each withered spinster
And gather in the tin.

(The Cat withdraws his head, and the pigeon-hole shuts with a bang.)

Peter:

Well, he isn't very helpful. But I'll try again.

(He knocks on the box, and the slide flies open.)

Cat:

What on earth do you want now? Can't you let a body balance his budget in peace?

Peter:

Please, could you tell me which way I ought to go from here? I'm looking for the way to a better world.

Cat:

Oh, that's very easy. I've written a book that'll tell you all about that. (Hands a book to Peter) Here you are. "Ao Toheroa, a Shirking Democracy". No don't bother me again. (The slide slams down.)

Peter: Of all the unsatisfactory people I ever -

(Peter

is interrupted by the White Rabbit, who is illuminated by a spotlight, up right. The White Rabbit is dressed as in "Alice", and carries a bucket of whitewash in one hand and a bucket of tar in the other).

White Rabbit:

Oh dear! I shall be too late! Oh, won't the Duchess be savage if I've kept her waiting. Oh, my tar and whitewash!

Peter:

Excuse me, please -

White Rabbit:

See my Secretary. I'm a great Union leader - I don't mix with the common people.

Peter:

Oh, please! I'm looking for the Way to a Better World, and I'm lost.

White Rabbit:

You poor little boy! I've never been able to find it, either.

Peter:

Who are you, please?

White Rabbit:

Latrine is the name - Sir Walter Latrine. My mother called me that because my face was always flushing. (Pause) You're a nice little boy. (Sobs) I was a little boy like you once - looking for the way to a Better World. But now the Duchess makes me go round the world with my tar and whitewash. I've whitewashed General Plastiras and General Mannerheim and blackened Stalin - I'm an expert. (Sobs) I was a little boy with curly hair, Just like you. (Pauses - then looks round cautiously and whispers) I'll help you. You see that book?

(A second spot illuminates a very tall table, about ten feet high, standing up centre. A large book, labelled "Dialectical Materialism, by Karl Marx", is leaning against the foot of the table).

White Rabbit:

Devour that book, and you'll find the way all right. But don't tell the Duchess I told you - she'll have my head off in a moment! Goodbye, little boy.

page 5

(He shudders, and hurries off, right. Peter goes over to the table, picks up the book, and examines it intently).

Peter:

Devour the book, and you'll find the way. All right -here goes.

(He tears a few pages out of the book, and munches them soulfully).

Peter:

Why - I'm growing taller -

(The single leg of the table telescopes, and the table reduces suddenly to about five feet high. A large golden key is lying on the table. Peter takes it and looks at it.)

Peter:

A key! Now all I need is a door to fit it!

(The spot follows Peter as he searches in the centre tabs, finally disclosing a little door, half hidden in the folds of the curtain. Peter puts the key in the lock, turns it, and opens the door. There is a blackout, and the same stormy Wagnerian theme is heard from a hidden orchestra. When the lights go on again, a large brick wall is seen stretching right across the stage. It is a very high wall, and on the front of it is painted a rough map of the world. The wall is crumbling, and obviously in a very bad state of repair; there is a yawning hole where the Soviet Union should be on the map, and the bricks in the region of Eastern Europe are very worn. On top of the wall sits Humpty Dumpty, an extremely fat bald gentleman, with a top hat and striped morning suit. In front of the wall stands a Chorus of Soldiers each holding a modern rifle. The Soldiers are attired like the playing-card people in "Alice", the suit being Clubs. The Orchestra strikes up the air of the next Chorus.)

Chorus and Solo - Soldiers and Humpty Dumpty.

(Air - "Pour, oh Pour the Pirate Sherry" - "The Pirates".)

Chorus:
Guard, oh guard our Humpty Dumpty,
Watch, oh watch his crumbling wall!
He's a wizard, he's a rumpty,
We must guard against his fall.

Humpty:
Guard me well, ye royal forces,
If I fell from my domain,
All the men and all the horses
Couldn't put me back again!

Chorus:
He's a wizard, he's a rumpty,
Guard, oh guard our Humpty Dumpty!

Guard, oh guard our Humpty Dumpty,
Watch, oh watch his crumbling wall!
He's a wizard, he's a rumpty,
We must guard against his fall.

(Enter Peter, right. He watches the scene with amazement.)

Peter:

Why, this must be Humpty Dumpty! And how exactly like an egg he is!

Humpty:

Limited! Humpty Dumpty Limited, if you please. I am registered under the Companies Act. And, just by the way, it is very provoking to be called an egg - very!

Peter:

Some eggs are very pretty, you know, Mr. Humpty Dumpty.

Humpty:

Yes, child, and some are very bad. Don't stand gaping there like a sick cow. State your business and be off with you.

Peter:

Don't you think you'd be safer on the ground? That wall looks as if it's going to fall to pieces at any moment.

page 6 Humpty:

Of course, I don't think so. Why, if ever I did fall off - which there's little chance of - but if I did, the White King has promised me - with his very own mouth - to send -

Peter:

- All his horses and all his men.

Humpty:

(Angrily) How did you know that? You're a saboteur! You' re a spy of the Red King!

(The Soldiers, at the mention of the words "Red King", form a circle around Peter, manacing him with their rifles.)

Peter:

No - really I'm not - I read it in a book!

Humpty:

(Annoyed) Oh yes - one of these Left Book Clubs Books, I suppose. All right, boys - let him off this time.

(The Soldiers fall back smartly into line along the wall.)

Humpty:

Now, take a good look at me. I'm one that knows a King, I am - and to show you I'm democratic, you may shake hands with me.

(Peter solemnly shakes hands with Humpty Dumpty).

Humpty:

I'm a very great man, my child. I own the whole of this wall, every bit of brick and morsel of mortar. I'm worth millions, millions!

Peter:

But the question is, whether you can do much with all those millions when you're sitting up on the wall all day.

Humpty:

The question is, what is to be master - that's all.

Solo and Chorus - Humpty Dumpty and Soldiers

(Air - "There's a Bridle Hanging on the Wall.")

Humpty:

Oh, I sit and wobble on my wall,
From morningtide to evenfall;
There's nothing else to do at all,
But sit and wobble on my wall.

Humpty:

There's a garden here with trees and flowers,
Where the birdies warble in the bowers,

Chorus:

But we'll never hear those birdies call
While he sits and wobbles on his wall.

Humpty:

In Greenland and in Greece
I employ the Storm Police,
In uniforms of brown;
With hordes of hired thugs
I suppress the silly mugs
Why try to pull me down.

Humpty:

I sit and wobble on my wall,
And I'll sit and wobble till I fall -

Chorus:

And we'll never hear those birdies call
While he sits and wobbles on his wall.

Peter:

Thank you, Mr. Humpty Dumpty, for the song. It was very beautiful.

Humpty:

The song isn't quite true, you know. I really do a lot of things besides Just sitting on my wall. Arithmetic, for instance.

Peter:

Arithmetic?

Humpty:

Yes - multiplying my profits, adding to my family, and squaring the Manpower Officers.

page 7 Peter:

You must have worked very hard to build up this lovely big wall?

Humpty:

Oh, quite, quite. The amount of money I put into cotton underpants and Jews' Harps for the Maoris in Ao Toheroa, for instance, was very considerable. Still, it was fairly easy in Ao Toheroa. They're a lot of suckers there - the Plunket system shows that.

Peter:

Well, I think I'd better be going, Mr. Humpty Dumpty. I wonder if you could tell me which way I ought to go?

Humpty:

Where do you want to go, my child? Or would you rather whisper?

Peter:

I'm looking for the way to a Better World.

(The effect of this on Humpty Dumpty is electric. He goes purple in the face, and wobbles dangerously to and fro.)

Humpty:

(Furiously) A Better World! You are a spy of the Red King then! Help! help! Shoot him, soldiers!

(The Soldiers kneel down and aim at Peter, who flees off stage, left. The Soldiers shoot after him wildly, and Humpty Dumpty weeps and wobbles in rage. The lights fade, and there is a black-out! After a short pause, Peter is seen walking on stage, right. He walks across the stage to where a large apple tree is standing, left. Peter is about to pick an apple, when a voice calls out and startles him.)

Voice:

Would you like to have pieces picked off you?

Peter:

Who - who's that?

(A head appears at the top of the trunk of the apple tree, and the light gets a little stronger. We see that the apple tree is really a man, with his arms held out like branches and his body encases in a brown trunk-like tube.)

Appletree:

I am. Holy Willie Appletree, the Mayor of Blunderland.

Peter:

Well, Mr. Appletree, can you tell me where to go?

Appletree:

Oh yes - I'm very good at telling people where to go. But before you go anywhere, you simply must have a Civic Reception. Are you distinguished? You don't look very distinguished. Would you like me to show you the sights of our beautiful city - the mansions of Newtown and the dinky little palaces of Tinakori Road?

Peter:

Oh no, thank you all the same, I'm looking for the way to a Better World. And when I told Humpty Dumpty that, he ordered his soldiers to shoot me. (Rubbing his behind) Fortunately, they only winged me.

Appletree:

Quite right, quite right. It's dangerous to look for Better Worlds, child. I never tried in all ray life - and look at me now, Mayor of Blunderland.

Peter:

If you please, Mr, Appletree, I really would like to be directed there. Do you know where the Better World is to be found?

Appletree:

Tush, child! I'm a very busy man - I haven't got time to waste on such trivialities as a Better World. You can ask at the Caucus Race-Course, if you like - that's Just round the corner past Te Aro Flat. Now, before you go, I'm sure you'd like to hear me recite the speech I'm going to use to welcome Lord Sucking-Pigge when he arrives in Blunderland next week.

Peter:

Well, Mr. Appletree, that's very good of you, but I -

page 8 Appletree:

(Magnanimously) No trouble at all, I assure you. (Orates) As Mayor of this beautiful city set in the Southern Seas, it is with the most obsequious delight and pleasure that I welcome you, Lord Sucking-Pigge, and your gracious - er - pardon me, Lord Sucking-Pigge, is she your wife? Thank you - Your gracious wife, Lady Sucking-Pigge. The citizens of Blunderland, whose representative I am,....

(Peter has commenced to creep out stealthily at the beginning of this speech, stopping every time Appletree looks to the side. Finally, he manages to rush off-stage, right, and Appletree's voice fades away. There is a dim-out, and when the lights go on again, the Caucus Race-Course is disclosed to our view.

Down stage left is a stall like those at Fairs and Shows, with a canvas awning above it, and piles, of cakes, sandwiches, and bottles of all descriptions standing upon it. There is a chair at the end, and three chairs behind it. Protruding diagonally downstage from the wings right centre is a grass bank, on which are sitting a dozen or so spectators, with their backs to the audience, apparently watching a race which is going on in a field below them. The Back cloth shows a race-course, with the grandstand at the opposite side of the track. Behind the stall are sitting the Harsh Hare, the Dormouse, and the Mad Hatter, all dressed as in "Alice", except that, of course, the Mad Hatter wears a large bowler hat. The Dormouse is fast asleep. On the side of the stall is written, "Caucus Race-Course. Refreshments." Peter enters right, and walks over to the Refreshment Stall.)

Mad Hatter et alia:

No room! No room!

Peter:

(Sitting down in the chair at the end of the stall) There's plenty of room.

Harsh Hare:

Are you a Stalinite, Leeite, Hoganite, Buchmanite, or Termite?

Peter:

(Puzzled) I don't think so.

Harsh Hare:

Then you may sit down. Have some wine.

Peter:

(Looking around) I don't see any wine.

Mad Hatter:

There isn't any. But there will be - if our team boats the opposition's in the Grand Election Hack Handicap next year.

Peter:

What races are being run today?

Harsh Hare:

The heats, child - the heats for the big race next year. I've Just been getting the runners ready - giving them their running shoes, you know.

Peter:

And can anyone enter for the heats?

Harsh Hare:

Oh, anyone can enter if he pays his half-dollar -except, of course, Stalinites, Leeites, Hoganites, Buchmanites, Term -

Mad Hatter:

You're not a Red Pawn, are you? The Red Pawns are always trying to worm their way into our team.

Harsh Hare:

The dirty verminous bloodthirsty white-anting snuffle busters!

Mad Hatter:

(Suddenly) Why is Bellamy's like Heaven?

Peter:

Oh, a riddle! Yippee! I think I can guess that. Let's see - or - long bars -

Mad Hatter:

Do you mean that you think you can find an answer to it?

page 9 Peter:

Exactly so.

Harsh Hare:

Then you should say what you mean.

Peter:

I do - at least, I mean what I say - that's the same thing, you know.

Mad Hatter:

No the same thing a bit! Why, you might as well say that "I doff my hat when the miners are pleased," (doffs hat) is the same thing as "The miners are pleased when I doff my hat." Which isn't the case at all.

Peter:

(Changing the subject) Why is the Dormouse asleep?

Mad Hatter:

Because he's tired. He's our Left Wing, you know - he very rarely wakes up, thank God. When he does, we sit on him, or Big Jim does. His name's really Blank Tombstone.

Harsh Hare:

(Eating a sandwich - gives a howl of rage) No butter! No butter! (To the Mad Hatter) You did this, you para-site! I told you you shouldn't have given that butter to your bloody miners.

Mad Hatter:

(Doffing his hat hastily) It was the best butter.

Spectators:

They're off! They're off! (Buzz of excited conversation from the bank, and off-stage.)

Peter:

(Looking up-stage) They've started running!

Harsh Hare:

Yes - they closed the Votalisator a few minutes ago.

Peter:

Why, all the runners are White Pawns!

(Cheers and catcalls from the crowd. More cheering from offstage. )

Peter:

What on earth are they doing? They're standing on their heads and turning somersaults.

Harsh Hare:

Of course! They'll need to be very good at that when they start running in the Grand Election Hack Handicap.

Peter:

Look what they're doing now! They're pulling something that looks like a crayfish from side to side on the end of a string.

Harsh Hare:

They're drawing a red herring across the trail. That's a most useful thing.

Peter:

Now they're passing a great big animal from one to another. I think it's a deer.

Mad Hatter:

That's called "Passing the Buck." It's most essential.

Peter:

Now some people are running out from the grandstand, and the runners are Jumping on top of them.

Harsh Hare:

That's called Riding on the People's Backs. It's the easiest part of the race. (To the Mad Hatter) The race is nearly over. Are the refreshments ready?

Mad Hatter:

They're O.K. Wake up, Dormouse. (He pours some water on it.)

Dormouse:

(Waking up and shaking his head) I wasn't asleep. I heard every word you fellows were saying.

Harsh Hare:

Tell us a story, Blank.

Peter:

Oh, yes, please do, Mr. Tombstone.

page 10 Dormouse:

Once upon a time there was a job going as Minister to Washington. (His voice rising to a scream) And I Ought to Have got it! (He falls asleep).

(There is a final burst of cheering from the crowd.)

Harsh Hare:

The race is over. It doesn't take as long as it used to.

Mad Hatter:

No. They used to go onwards and upwards. Now they only go round and round. (To Peter) Would you like to help serve the refreshments?

Peter:

Oh, yes, if I may. What do you serve the people with?

Mad Hatter:

There's boloney -

Harsh Hare:

And apple sauce -

Mad Hatter:

And tripe -

Harsh Hare:

And bullswool -

Mad Hatter:

And raspberries - lots of lovely food.

Peter:

Who won the race?

Harsh Hare:

Everybody has won - but no one's going to get any prizes! At least, not until we pick the team. This race hasn't really got anything to do with the selection of the actual starters, you know.

Spectators:

Here they come! Here they come! The Caucus! The Caucus!

(Cheers and cat-calls. The Caucus, consisting of a Chorus of White Pawns, surrounded by more Spectators wearing pink rosettes, enters, hot and flushed. There is an excited babble of noise as they grab refreshments from the stall, and the White Pawns line up at the front of the stage. The orchestra strikes up the air of the Caucus song. The Pawns sing "one, two, three, four," etc., and the Spectators clap their hands in time to the music.)

Chorus - White Pawns and Spectators.

(Air - "The Caissons Come Rolling Along".)

Pawns:

What a pace, what a pace, we have run the Party's race,

Chorus:

And the Caucus comes rolling along.

Pawns:

"Just sit tight, you'll be right," all the Ministers recite,

Chorus:

As the Caucus comes rolling along.

Pawns:

And we say, "Yes, yes, yes" to each Minister's address,
But somehow it always turns out wrong -
Though we shrink, though we stink, we would rather sink than think,

Chorus:

As the Caucus comes rolling along.
As the Caucus comes rolling along.

(There is a very short ballet, consisting largely of simple movements, during which the Chorus is repeated. At the end of the Chorus, the Dormouse wakes up again. The Harsh Hare and the Mad Hatter try to suppress it.)

1st Pawn:

The Dormouse is waking up!

page 11 Harsh Hare:

He isn't - he's fast asleep.

Dormouse:

I'm awake - I want to speak!

2nd Pawn:

Come on - let's hear the Dormouse!

Pawns:

Yes, let him speak! Give him a fair go! Down with him! etc., etc.

Dormouse:

(When silence falls - drawing himself up to his full height - very impressively) Nationalise the Bank of ao Toheroa!

(There is immediate consternation; everybody rushes hither and thither; the Mad Hatter and the Harsh Hare cry "Out of order! Out of order!", and various pawns echo the cry "Nationalise the Bank of Ao Toheroa". Then, out of the hubbub, one of the Pawns is heard to cry - "Ask the Kidderminster Cat". "What does the Cat say?" This is gradually taken up by the rest of the Pawns, and silence eventually falls.)

Harsh Hare:

(Grudgingly) All right. We'll ask the Kiddermin-ster Cat. (Calling) Wally!

(The Kidderminster Cat appears on the top of the grassy bank, and stands motionless for a moment. Some of the Pawns throw themselves prostrate on, the floor.)

Cat:

O.K., O.K. - let 'em have it if they want it. It won't make the slightest difference, anyhow.

(There is loud and enthusiastic cheering, and the Chorus of Pawns breaks out again into the Caucus song. During the Chorus, the Mad Hatter and the Harsh Hare endeavour to push the Dormouse into a large teapot on the stall.)

Chorus - White Pawns and Spectators.

Pawns:

What a pace, what a pace, we have run the Party's race,

Chorus:

And the Caucus comes rolling along.

Pawns:

"Just sit tight, you'll be right," all the Ministers recite,

Chorus:

As the Caucus comes rolling along.

Pawns:

And we say "Yes, yes, yes", to each Minister's address,
But somehow it always turns out wrong -
Though we shrink, though we stink, we would rather sink than think,

Chorus:

As the Caucus comes rolling along.
As the Caucus comes rolling along.

(Blackout. After a few seconds, a splotlight catches Peter walking on stage right. To him comes the White Rabbit. Side spot, if possible, giving the effect of light coming in upon them from the end of a tunnel.)

Peter:

(Pointing) Oh, look - at the end of the tunnel there -I do declare all the land's marked out just like a large chessboard! It's a huge game of chess that's being played all over the world! I wish I could Join in the game!

White Rabbit:

Well, I think you'd make a pretty good White Pawn. You've had some practice, anyway - I remember reading in the papers that Sid Holland was always checking you these days. You can be the White King's Pawn.

Peter:

Oh, goody, goody! When do I start?

page 12 White Rabbit:

Let's see now - you're on the second square now. The third square will be the Trial - the next is occupied by the Dock Turtle and the Gryphon. Then you'll find the Tweedles on the fifth - and in the sixth you'd better be careful, because that the Duchess's kitchen, and she'll execute you if you aren't careful. The seventh square belongs to the White Knight, and then on the eighth square you'll become a real King. And you'll be banqueted by the Red King!

Peter:

Really and truly? Wally always told me I'd be crowned some day, and now I know what he meant. But will I find the way to a Better World on my Journey?

White Rabbit:

Oh yes, child. All the people you'll meet will have the most interesting views on New Orders. (Sniffs the air) Oh, my tar and whitewash! Do you smell the Vodka in the air? It's the Red King!

(There is a flash of light, and the Red King appears through the tabs. He is dressed like the Red King in "Alice", but wears a walrus moustache and a crown made of a hammer and sickle intertwined, and smokes a curved pipe.)

Red King:

Mother of Marx! I Just arrived in time. (To White Rabbit) You miserable Trotskyite! Here you are, sending the child off to be a King without giving him the proper examination!

White Rabbit:

(Trembling) If you please, your comradeship - I -I -

Red King:

Of all the dumb-witted and deviating lackeys of the bourgeoisie, you're the dumbest and most deviating. (To Peter) You can't be a King, you know, until you've passed the proper examination. And the sooner we begin it, the better.

Peter:

(Terrified) But - if you please - do I have to pass an examination? Couldn't I be accredited?

Red King:

Uncle of Engels, listen to the infant! Of course, you can't. First question: Why do University students always make Jokes about toilet paper in their Extravaganzas?

Peter:

Well, - I - er -

White Rabbit:

He is dumb, isn't he? Why, because toilet paper always goes down well", of course. Even I knew that.

Red King:

Second question: If a manufacturer employs twenty men, and the Manpower takes one away, and then another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another - what's the result?

Peter:

Er - I lost count - I give up.

Red King:

Quite right. That's exactly what the manufacturer does. Third question: Do you know what Grandma said to Grandpa during Fitness Week?

Peter:

No.

Red King:

Quite correct. Two out of three - that's quite a good pass. O.K., you can get going now.

(A voice is heard off-stage, shouting "The Trial's beginning!")

Red King:

Are you going to the Trial?

Peter:

Whose trial is it?

page 13 Red King:

Don't get frightened - it isn't yours, yet. It's the Trial of the Y.M.C.A. versus the Reporters of "Veritas". Of course it isn't really a trial. It's really a new ballet put on by the Caravansky outfit called "The Y.M.C.A. Scandals", with choreography by Mr. R.H. Hippo.

White Rabbit:

Come on - let's hurry or we'll miss the beginning!

(The White Rabbit and Peter rush off hand in hand, followed by the Red King. There is a blackout, and the curtain rises a few seconds later on the Court Scene. Upstage centre is an ornate dais covered with fleur-de-lis, below which is a small table for the Clerk. In a sort of two-decker box set diagonally at the right of the stage sit the Jurors. At the left of the stage a number of tables are set diagonally, behind which sit four Barristers in wigs and gowns, Mr. Humphrey O'Bluster being furthest down-stage. Behind the Barristers' tables are forms for onlookers. Peter, the Red King, and the White Rabbit sit together on these forms. All the music for the following scene, with the exception of the Boarders' Song and the Reporters' Song is taken from Sullivan's "Trial By Jury".)

Recit. - Clerk.
Silence in Court!
Silence in Court! The man who speaks expires!
Behold your Judge - the Great Sir Cycle Tyres!

(Enter Sir Cycle Tyres, pompously, attired in wig and gown. He sits down on a chair set in his dais. The Jurors and Barristers sing.)

Chorus

All:

Oh learned friend
We kiss your feet
As you ascend
The Judgment seat.

Jurors:

All hail!

Barristers:

All hail!

Jurors:

All hail!

All:

All hail All hail!

Recit. - Sir Cycle Tyres.
For these kind words accept my thanks, I pray -
A case of Libel we've to try today.
So call the defendants now without delay -
We'll start the case of "Veritas" ats. Y.M.C.A.

(Enter, left, a Chorus of "Veritas" Reporters, As these have been dragged bodily from "Olympian Nights", it is hoped that the public has forgotten them. They still wear the same little black skirts, suspenders, and spectacles, and carry the same note-books. There song also has the same tune. The Reporters are led by Mr. Clever Bane.)

Chorus - Veritas Reporters

Clever Bane:

Our reputation's horrible
Among the Upper Class -
We're ostracised
If it's surmised
We work for "Veritas".
I lead this band of brethren,
My name is Clever Bane -
But learn the truth,
We're not uncouth,
And rarely use cocaine.

page 14 Chorus:

Wo write of rapes and arsons
And the crimes of erring parsons,
And we love a little murder now and then;
We talk of shoddy sandals
And expose a host of scandals,
But we're really inoffensive little men.

Inoffensive little men,
Temperance supporters;
Innocent and charming folk -
"Veritas" Reporters!

We diligently study
Every murder if it's bloody,
For we love a little murder now and then,
And we often sit and wonder
How despite our blood and thunder,
We remain such inoffensive little men.

Inoffensive little men,
Temperance supporters,
Innocent and charming folk -
"Veritas" Reporters!

(A Ballet of the Reporters, short and snoopy, follows. At the conclusion of their Ballet, the Reporters bow, and sit cross-legged at the foot of the Judge's dais.)

Recit. - Sir Cycle Tyres
The plaintiffs now should soon appear;
Their voices I can plainly hear -
Those luscious maids - those ladies gay -
The staff of the Y.M.C.A.

(Enter, left, a male ballet, of Y.M.C.A. Maids, wearing low-cut frocks and the usual quota of tennis-balls, hairy legs, etc. There is great interest among the Jurors, who whisper excitedly to one another, and the Reporters, who take copious notes in their notebooks.)

Chorus - Maids
Full of indignation
Come the libelled maids:
Save our reputation
Ere our beauty fades!
Lovely limbs - observe them -
Figures you'll adore -
Who wish us to serve them,
Could Justly ask for more,
Justly ask for more?

All:

With such figures to adore,
Who could justly ask for more?
With such figures to adore,
Who could justly ask for more,
Who could justly ask for more,
Who could justly ask for more.

(A Male Ballet of the Maids and the "Veritas" Reporters follows. It should be short and ardent. At the conclusion of the Ballet, the Reporters return disconsolately to their former places, and the Maids sit in the Jurors' box on the Jurors' knees.)

Recit. - Clerk

Humphrey O'Bluster!

page 15

Recit. - Humphrey O'Bluster, K.C.
May it please you, Sir Cycle,
Gentlemen of the Jury!

Oh, I am the great O'Bluster,
I'm the cream of all K.C.'s;
I'm a legal filibuster,
And I charge enormous fees.
In my wig and gown resplendent,
I appear for the defendant.

All:

In his wig and gown resplendent,
He appears for the defendant.

O'Bluster:

Do not let these maids divert you
With the swaying of their hips;
You can calculate their virtue
By the lipstick on their lips;
You should rather place reliance
On the evidence of my clients!

All:

We don't want to place reliance
On the evidence of his clients.

(Enter, left, a Chorus of Boarders from the Y.M.C.A., a miserable set of youths, extremely grubby and unkempt.)

Chorus - Y.M.C.A. Boarders

(Air - "Who'll Do It This Time.")

Oh, there's lice in the washtub,
And vermin in the soup;
The matron has the measles,
And the cleaners have the croup.

They haven't cleaned the bathroom
Since last St. Patrick's day -
We're all pals together
At the Y.M.C.A.

Oh, there's spiders in the bedclothes,
And garbage in the sink;
You're not allowed to gamble,
And you're not allowed to drink.

The maids are very bashful
And never want to play -
We're all pals together
At the Y.M.C.A.

(The Boarders dance out miserably, repeating their last Chorus.)

Recit. - Foreman of the Jury
We have come to our decision,
All of us without division:
We decide at once for these
Luscious ladies on our knees.
If our firm decision rankles
Gaze upon their lovely ankles,
Shell-like ears and raven tresses
Think of them in bathing-dresses!

Jury:

In this solemn Judgment-hall.
That's the verdict of us all!

(The Jurors and the Maids advance to the centre of the stage, and the other characters in the scene crowd around them. Peter and his tow friends stand watching.)

page 16

Chorus - Ensemble.

Maids:

Well, thank Jehovah,
The Trial is over,
We're all in clover,
The case is won!

Jurors:

Their blows we parried,
Their plans miscarried,
And we'll get married
Ere day is done!

Repos.:

In other quarters
The poor reporters
With gins and waters
Will drown their woe!

All:

The wrongs are mended
In manner splendid,
The Trial is ended,
And away we go.

All:

Well, thank Jehovah, etc.

All:

The wrongs are mended, etc.

All:

Well, thank Jehovah, etc.

All:

The wrongs are mended, etc.

(The whole Cast is dancing out when the curtain falls. It is the end of the first Act.)