Chorus

The Executive

Our aspect's stern, Etc.

(Enter the Witches, the Harpies of Hades, nine of them, each bearing a broomstick, They are dressed in black, and all are extremely dirty and repellent. This chorus should be female, not male. They from up in line in front of The Executive, who fall back, and sing the following Chorus.

Chorus

Witches.

When we appear Etc.

The Executive and The Witches gracefully execute a combined Pitchfork and Broomstick Ballet to the music)

Gilbert.

(After the conclusion of the Ballet) Well, we'd better get down to business. Things have definitely come to a crisis.

Ermyntrude.

Yes, and whatever anyone says, we have not turned the corner.

Albert.

And we're not likely to, at this rate. Now, what we want is some calm dispassionate thinking.

Gertae.

From my experience of you, Albert, I know It's quite impossible for you to be dispassionate.

Rosebud.

Let's go on strike!

Ethelbert.

I thought of that some centuries ago, Rosebud.

page break

Its logically bad. We haven't got any work to go on strike from.

Constance.

Let's complain again to Mr. Nemesis, then.

Cuthbert.

A fat lot of good that'll do. Last time we complained, he foew into a rage and ordered us to square the seventh circle before sunset.

Bert.

And when we couldn't, we had to stand head downwards in the mud lake all night.

Sophonisba.

(Reminiscently) Ugh! That lake!

Gilbert.

But we must do something - we cant stand this much longer!

Song

Gillert with Chorus of Executive And Witches.

The numerous cliques Etc.

Hubert.

(Turning to Wurzel and Flummery) And what do you gentlemen think we ought to do?

Wurzel & Flummery

(Together) Go away - we're busy.

Gilbert.

Leave them alone, poor things, The boss's ordered then to discover a new torture by tonight - he thinks that if Dulce Domum's made a little more up-to-date, we might get more visitors. What's going to happen to you if you can't find a new one Wurzel?

W & F

(Together - very expressively) Something very, very, lingering? (They collapse over the table)

(There, is a loud booming peal of thunder in the distance)

Rosebud.

Hullo! here comes the Old Boy!

(The thunder is heard again much nearer)

Gilbert.

Coming fast too.

Bert.

I suppose we've got to welcome him in the approved fashion?

Gilbert.

Might as well. No use annoying the old chap. Pub on your nice party smiles, everybody.

(The thunder becomes louder, and more continuous, and the stage darkens; but the red glow at the back becomes brighter. The Executive and the Witches form up on either side of the stage Gilbert standing in the middle and singing the following song. The thunder rumbles, very low and monotonous, throughout the page break song getting louder towards the finish.)

Song.

Gilbert With Chorus Of Executive And Witches.

In fiery chariot winging Etc.

(There is a sudden terrific peal of thunder, very close. An immediate black out follows, for one second, and as the lights slowly come up, Mr. Nemesis is seen, his arm outstretched in the Nazi salute, standing on the top step in front of his throne. He is tall, majestic - an awe - inspiring figure, with pointed black beard, moustache, and small horns. There is dead silence for a moment, and then a wind instrument in the orchestra plays "Pop-eye the Sailor Man" in a plaintive tone. Whenever Mr. Nemesis appears during the play, this air should be played. He wears a flowing red cloak, and faultless evening dress underneath. He is smoking a large cigarette.)

Song Mr. Nemesis and Chorus.

For - I am the Demon King! Etc.

(Mr Nemesis

knocks the ash from his cigarette on the head of the nearest member of the Executive, who starts violently.)

Mr. Nemesis.

(In a deep loud voice) Avaunt! Black hags of the night! (The witches scuttle out slmost too fast for the eye to follow them.) Avaunt, oh my council who councel not! (The Executive scamper off noislessly on the opposite side. He sinks into his chair, and rests his head in his hands.) Avaunt to be alone. (He raises his head, and his eyes light on Wurzel and Flummery shivering in their chairs. He descends the steps in an agile manner.) Wurzel, Flummery.

(They quail and sink [unclear: guil in the bairs.])

Wurzel and Flummery [unclear: anting] in a dull tremulous monotone)

Searching through the panorama -
We've triad Turk and Shiek and Llama -
Marching over deserts bootless,
But our journeys have been fruitless.
Every torture that we saw
Had been done by you before!

Mr. Nemesis.

I suppose you remember what's to happen to you if page break you can't [unclear: fie] something by six tonight?

W & F

No - We really forget.

Wurzel.

(Frantically) Please may I leave the room?

Flummery.

(More frantically) Please I desire to interview a gentleman concerning a domestic animal.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Grabbing each by the collar) So you forget, eh? Well, I'll have to think of something a little more---er---Well at six tonight. And even the great Sausage I heard you talking about wouldn't be able to legislate you out of this. Now scram! And remember--(But they are gone before he has time to say another word. Mr. Nemesis trips up the step and from a hidden cavity under the throne removes a large bottle - "Public School Spirit" - and a glass. Pouring some into the glass, he drinks, furtively, glancing around to see that no one is looking. Holding the glass in front of him, he soliloquises:-)

Mr. Nemesis.

I drink - to the bad old days! Oh, Tempus, Tempus, why must you fugit so?

(He drinks. His meditations are cut short by an excited scurry of feet outside, and he hurriedly replaces the bottle. The Executive, the witches, and other rabble rush on left, bowing to Mr. Nemesis, pointing to the right, and singing, all at the same time

Chorus

Executive and Witches.

On yonder billows tossing Etc.

(They rush out right, but Mr. Nemesis immobilizes two of the Executive, Albert and Egbert.)

Mr. Nemesis.

And what is this outrageous caterwauling?

Albert.

Its Captain Charon, your grace.

Mr. Nemesis.

Has he got any cargo?

Albert.

I can't say your Grace. But he looked very pleased with himself.

Mr. Nemesis.

That's no indication; Charon suffers from aninflated

page break

(Mr Nemesis ascends his throne, and assumes a majestic pose. Albert and Egbert [unclear: tily] stand on either side of the throne, their pitchforks hild like rifles.

The Executive and Witches surge in, carrying Captain Charon shoulder high.)

Chorus

Executive and Witches.

Here's Charon the Sailor-man, Etc.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Rising, in a loud voice.) Scram!

(The rabble rushes out, dropping Charon with a thud on the floor.

Albert & Egberts., remain motionless on guard.)

Mr. Namesis.

So you're here!

Charon.

(Who is rather deaf) Eh?

Mr. Nemesis.

I said, so you're here?

Charon.

Yes, I would like a beer Mr. Nemesis - it is hot.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Shouting) I said, so you're here?

Charon.

(Crestfallen) Oh, well - I am, aren't I? It is rather obvious.

Mr. Nemesis.

Painfully so. Did you have a good voyage?

Charon.

Terrible Mr. Nemesis, terrible! On one occasion

I almost lost my ferry and on another - my toga.

Mr. Nemesis.

Your what?

Charon.

(Pointing to towel,) My Toga, Nice, isn't it? (Displaying it from all angles) I picked it up in a place upstaires, when I had my New Year bath. The fellow who dropped it didn't notice. But I nearly lost it - Oh, it was so lowering to my dignity!

Mr. Nemesis.

It is rather risky.

Charon.

Yes Mr. Nemesis, I would like a whiskey.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Louder) I said risky.

Charon.

(Sadly) Oh you did say risky didn't you?

Mr Nemesis.

(Thundering) Yes! But - Have you brought any souls?

Charon.

We'll corns to that in a minute. When you sent me upstaires, I took my abode in a castle overlooking the sea - Dam- page break nation castle : I called it.

Mr. Nemesis.

Sounds a pleasant spot.

Charon.

Well Mr. Nemesis, I would like a spot. (Long cause, during which Charon Cazes longingly at Mr, Nemesis, then shrugs hopelessly and proceeds.) I made only one friend - my Daisy.

Mr. Nemesis.

Your Daisy?

Charon.

She is a bull, Mr. Nemesis, a bull of massive and ungainly proportions, but my bull's a lamb, Mr. Nemesis, he's as harmless as a mouse. Though I'm afraid the magistrate didn't thihk so. That Magistrate!

Mr. Nemesis.

Daisy is a funny name for a bull isn't it?

Charon.

Ah - But Daisy is a funny bull. (Casually) I've brought her down here.

Mr. Nemesis.

You've What?

(A loud bellowing is heard outside)

Charon.

That's him. Isn't she a loving little thing? (Looking out) I'm afraid he's going to have a fight with Cerberus in a minute.

Mr. Nemesis.

(With dangerous calm) Captain Charon, can you drag your thoughts away from your bovine acquaintance for a moment and answer me one question? If not, your bull will soon be Bovril.

Charon.

(Proceeding unperturbed) By the way, I've renamed my boat. I now call it the "Sic Transit". Rather apt isn't it ? But to proceed. I have a cargo.

Mr. Nemesis.

That's the spirit.

Charon.

(Eagerly) Where is the spirit, Mr. Nemesis? I have not seen any yet.

Mr. Nemesis.

I'm sitting on a bottle of the best in Dulce Domum at the moment, but I'm not to take it from under my -er- control until I know.......

Charon.

I have a cargo of the finest souls since Nero's day on board. Queer people - they didn't like Daisy a bit. Daisy is my bull you know - Did I tell you about her?

(In desperation Mr Nemesis obtains the bottle from under the seat and hands it to Charon. While Mr. Nemesis is getting the glass, Charon removes the cork with his teeth, spits it out page break into Albert's face, and rains the bottle with incredible rapidity. Mr. Nemesis turns round with the glass, and looks at the empty bottle; his jaw drops in amazement, Charon passes him the bottle.

(Mr Nemesis raises the bottle on high ready to smite Charon but pauses as a noise is heard off. Several members of the Executive push on a large packing case right, with a huge label attached, reading Mr Nemisis, Dulce Domum, Agile, With Care.")

Mr. Nemesis.

At last! Scram everyone! I'll deal with this myself

Albert and Egbert noislessly disappear centre, and the others exit right. Charon, seeing that Mr. Nemesis is busy inspecting the packing case, creeps up to the throne, falls on his hands and knees beside it, fishes out a large bottle, waves it with a triumphant air at Mr. Nemesis' back, and scurries out on all fours. A moment later, the bull bellows joyously off. Mr. Nemesis having inspected the packing case, suddenly gets an idea. He smiles wickedly and produces a pair of horn-rimmed glasses from the air, puts them on, and sits in a studious manner at the tabls left, and appears to be writing busily. The orchestra commences playing softly, and a muffled chorus comes from within the packing case,)

Chorus

The Plutocrats.

Bump, bump, bump along the highway. Etc.

These four take some time painfully emerging, singing the whole time.)

Bump, bump bump along the gangway Etc.

(By the time the four have emerged the song is completely finished and they have straightened their ruffled clothes. They stand looking round Oliver playing with his tie, and Stanley with his hair. As the two walk together round the room, the Laurel and Hardy entrance tune is played by a violin in the orchestra.

Vere de Vere. (His voice rough and uncultured, in contrast to his clothes and lordly air.) Phew - its damned hot. Just page break about we het to that drought we had in Aussie in '98, Do you know, during that drought I saw two trees chasing a dog.

Mr. Nemesis.

Names please? (He looks hurriedly through the pages of a large book.)

Stan Sausage.

I am Stanley Sausage.

Oliver Mask.

And I am Oliver Mash.

Mr. Nemesis.

O yes, I remember you Sausage and Mash, the celebrated radio entertainers.

Oliver Mash.

And this is the Reverend Scrounger - known to his intimates as Uncle Sacking, the friendly toad.

Mr. Nemesis.

And who is this? (Pointing to Vere de Vere.)

Vere de Vere.

(Proudly) I am Lord Vere de Vere.

Stan Sausage.

A gentleman of the old school tie.

Oliver Mash.

Have you a cigarette, young man?

Mr. Nemesis.

(Standing up) Certainly.

(He produces before their bewildered eyes four lighted ones from the air. The Plutocrats gape at them and smoke them suspiciously. Mr Nemesis goes through the motions of opening a case and putting a cigarette in his mouth. When his hands are removed he also is smoking a cigarette.)

Stan Sausage.

(Doing finger wiggle excitedly very awe struck) Can you - can you do that often?

Mr. Nemesis.

Why not.

Stan Sausage.

Can you do it with money?

(For answer Mr. Nemesis produces a shower of silver coins from the air.)

Oliver Mash.

Stanley our search is at end! Young man, our economical system was perfect except in one tiny detail, money. We had intended to print it, but if you will go in with us -.

Mr. Nemesis.

Money won't be much use to you in the Fiery Lake.

Stan Sausage.

Is - is that where we are going?

Mr. Nemesis.

If I choose.

Oliver Mash.

If you choose. (Amazed.) Then you are -

Mr. Nemesis.

(Drawing himsslf up to full height - the Plutocrats quail,) Yes I am Mr. Nemesis! I may be a little moth eaten, but I am still the ruler of Dulce Domum.

page break Vere de Vere.

Who is this Dulcie Domum, anyway?

Mr. Nemesis.

But with the rolling away of centuries, my satanical ardour has lessened, I have grown soft - hearted. A tiny flower will move me.

Vere de Vere.

Ever tried Epsom Salts?

Mr. Nemesis.

I used to hate the little devils, but now I find I can even bear children.

Vere de Vere.

Good heavens man, you ought to see a doctor.

Mr. Nemesis.

And if I want to swear - I find I have lost the art. If something drops on my toe, and I want to say - you know - all I can do is squeeze out a miserable bother.

Vere de Vere.

(Intensely sympathetic) That must be really terrible.

Stan Sausage.

(Cautiously) Do - do I surmise that you don't like your job?

Mr. Nemesis.

Your penetration is amazing.

Stan Sausage.

(Even more cautiously) I suppose - you are still determined - to emerse us in this fiery lake of yours.

Mr. Nemesis.

I'm afraid I'll have to. Why?

Stan Sausage.

(Casually) I just thought you might hand the Government over to us.

Mr. Nemesis.

(Horrified) No! It's absolutely unprecedented.

Rev. Scrounger.

(Benignly) There is no precedent for anything when its done for the first time.

Stan Sausage.

Listen - if you don't let us take over, things may be awkward for you. Do you realise that you're liable to a fine for keeping an alsatian unlicensed and unmuzzled?

Mr. Nemesis.

An Alsatian?

Oliver Mash.

He means that thing with all the heads at the doorway.

Mr. Nemesis.

Cerberus?

Stan Sausage.

Yes - it obviously has alsatian blood in it. Do you realize that you are disobeying the Health regulations by that placard above the door - "Abandon soap all ye that enter here"

Mr. Nemesis.

Its 'Hope' not 'saop'. Are you illiterate? page break must be soap from the condition of the witches we saw.

Mr. Nemeses.

Anyway, I'm not subject to your domination.

Oliver Mash.

That's where you're wrong, Upstaires we ruled over a large piece of land, Our dominion extends, as every lawyer knows, to the sky, (hodding his head) and to the middle of the earth.

Mr. Nemesis.

But you're dead.

Oliver Mash.

(Magnificently patting his stomach in a grandiloquent manner.) I am a corporation sole. And a corporation never dies.

Mr. Nemesis.

Well I suppose there's nothing for it. Its a bargain.

(The orchestra strikes up the Toreador chorus, and the Devil's Own march on left led by Messalina, Cleopatra, Madams Pompadour, Lucrexia Borgia, Helen Of Troy Calpurnia, Xanthippe. Each dressed in the appropriate costume of her period. They perform ab elegant but wicked ballet, singing the following chorus.)

Chorus and Ballet

The Devil's Own

We are the dames....Etc.

(At the conclusion of the ballet, and during the following conversation, Messalina makes eves at the Rev. Scrounger, who is horrified, and attempts to escape from her attentions.)

Mr. Nemesis.

This is my private harem - The Devil's Own.

Stanley Sausage.

(Doing Finger Wiggle excitedly) You - you haven't got a public one, have you?

Oliver Mash.

Does this pass with the reigns of power?

Mr. Nemesis.

All except Messalina, Gentlemen, allow me to introduce the ladies. (As he introduces each one, they bow grace-fully.) Messalina -

Lord Vere de Vere I've heard about her.

Mr. Nemesis.

Lucrezia Dorgia: she simply oozes poisonality. Helen of Troy - her face, as you know sank a thousand ships. page break Xanthippe.

Messalina.

(In a soft alluring voice, sidling up to the Revd. Scrounger,) Like to come for a little walk round Dulce Domum?

Mr. Nemesis.

That's right girls take them out and show them..

Revd. Scrounger.

(Faintly) Is this necessary?

Mr. Nemesis.

Show them round girls! Show them Napoleon's Army marching on their stomachs! Show them Tantulus and Ixion and Brookie and all the other cursed things.

Lord vere de Vere

I'm going to enjoy this. I wonder if We'll hear any new Little Audrey stories.

(They start to go out arm in arm, but the Revd. Scrounger is extremely bashful.)

Revd. Scrounger.

(Shrinking from Messalina as if she had the plague.) You - you'll have to excuse me; I'm a little stiff from exertion.

Messalina.

(Seizing him by the arms and dragging him out after the others.) I don't care where you come from. Let's get going. (They go out singing "We are the Dames")

(By now they have all gone. Mr. Nemssis shrugs his shoulders, sighs, and walks slowly but proudly to his throne, where he sits, his head resting on his arm.