(Exeunt together, on tiptoe.)

(Enter Chorus of Bucks and Blades, heralded by Chorus of
Bridesmaids.)

CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS.

Welcome, gentry,
For your entry
Sets our tender hearts a-beating.
Men of station,
Admiration
Prompts this unaffected greeting.
Hearty greeting offer we!

CHORUS OF BUCKS AND BLADES.

When thoroughly tired
Of being admired,
By ladies of gentle degree--degree,
With flattery sated,
High-flown and inflated,
Away from the city we flee--we flee!
From charms intramural
To prettiness rural
The sudden transition
Is simply Elysian,
So come, Amaryllis,
Come, Chloe and Phyllis,
Your slaves, for the moment, are we!

ALL. From charms intramural, etc.

CHORUS OF BRIDESMAIDS.

The sons of the tillage
Who dwell in this village
Are people of lowly degree--degree.
Though honest and active,
They're most unattractive,
And awkward as awkward can be--can be.
They're clumsy clodhoppers
With axes and choppers,
And shepherds and ploughmen
And drovers and cowmen,
And hedgers and reapers
And carters and keepers,
But never a lover for me!

ENSEMBLE.

BRIDESMAIDS. BUCKS AND BLADES.

So welcome gentry, etc. When thoroughly tired, etc.

(Enter Sir Despard Murgatroyd.)

SONG AND CHORUS--SIR DESPARD.

SIR D. Oh, why am I moody and sad?
CH. Can't guess!
SIR D. And why am I guiltily mad?
CH. Confess!
SIR D. Because I am thoroughly bad!
CH. Oh yes--
SIR D. You'll see it at once in my face.
Oh, why am I husky and hoarse?
C