ys you. No, George; you are very fond of me, and I
cannot consent to give you a week's uneasiness on my account.
LORD MOUNT. But, dear Thomas, it would not last a week!
Remember, you lead the House of Lords! On your demise I shall take
your place! Oh, Thomas, it would not last a day!
PHYL. (coming down). Now, I do hope you're not going to fight
about me, because it's really not worth while.
LORD TOLL. (looking at her). Well, I don't believe it is!
LORD MOUNT. Nor I. The sacred ties of Friendship are
paramount.

QUARTET--LORD MOUNTARARAT,
LORD TOLLOLLER, PHYLLIS, and PRIVATE WILLIS.

LORD TOLL. Though p'r'aps I may incur your blame,
The things are few
I would not do
In Friendship's name!

LORD MOUNT. And I may say I think the same;
Not even love
Should rank above
True Friendship's name!

PHYL. Then free me, pray; be mine the blame;
Forget your craze
And go your ways
In Friendship's name!

ALL. Oh, many a man, in Friendship's name,
Has yielded fortune, rank, and fame!
But no one yet, in the world so wide,
Has yielded up a promised bride!

WILLIS. Accept, O Friendship, all the same,

ALL. This sacrifice to thy dear name!

(Exeunt Lord Mountararat and Lord Tolloller, lovingly, in one
direction, and Phyllis in another. Exit Sentry.)

(Enter Lord Chancellor, very miserable.)

RECITATIVE--LORD CHANCELLOR.

Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest:
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers:
Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!

SONG--LORD CHANCELLOR.

When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is
taboo'd by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in,
without impropriety;
For your brain is on fire--the bedclothes conspire of usual
slumber to plunder you:
First your counterpane goes, and uncovers your toes, and your
sheet slips demurely from under you;
Then the blanketing tickles--you feel like mixed pickles--so