se as the warm west-wind;
Sweet is Rose as the new-mown hay--
Rose is queen of maiden-kind!
Rose, all glowing
With virgin blushes, say--
Is anybody going
To marry you to-day?

SOLO--ZORAH.

Every day, as the days roll on,
Bridesmaids' garb we gaily don,
Sure that a maid so fairly famed
Can't long remain unclaimed.
Hour by hour and day by day,
Several months have passed away,
Though she's the fairest flower that blows,
No one has married Rose!

CHORUS.

Rose, all glowing
With virgin blushes, say--
Is anybody going
To marry you to-day?

ZORAH. Hour by hour and day by day,
Months have passed away.

CHORUS. Fair is Rose as bright Mayday, etc.

(Enter Dame Hannah, from cottage.)

HANNAH. Nay, gentle maidens, you sing well but vainly, for
Rose is still heart-free, and looks but coldly upon her many
suitors.
ZORAH. It's very disappointing. Every young man in the
village is in love with her, but they are appalled by her beauty
and modesty, and won't declare themselves; so, until she makes
her own choice, there's no chance for anybody else.
RUTH. This is, perhaps, the only village in the world that
possesses an endowed corps of professional bridesmaids who are
bound to be on duty every day from ten to four--and it is at
least six months since our services were required. The pious
charity by which we exist is practically wasted!
ZOR. We shall be disendowed--that will be the end of it!
Dame Hannah--you're a nice old person--you could marry if you
liked. There's old Adam--Robin's faithful servant--he loves you
with all the frenzy of a boy of fourteen.
HAN. Nay--that may never be, for I am pledged!
ALL. To whom?
HAN. To an eternal maidenhood! Many years ago I was
betrothed to a god-like youth who woo'd me under an assumed name.
But on the very day upon which our wedding was to have been
celebrated, I discovered that he was no other than Sir Roderic
Murgatroyd, one of the bad Baronets of Ruddigore, and the uncle
of the man who now bears th