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Rob. [Interrupting angrily.] Hold your t...

Ruddigore, or The Witch’s Curse

Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd/Robin Oakapple Richard Dauntless Rose Maybud

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Rob. [Interrupting angrily.] Hold your tongues, will you! Now then, what does this mean?

Rich. My poor lad, my heart grieves for thee, but it's like this: the moment I see her, and just as I was a-goin' to mention your name, my heart it up and it says, says it�"Dick, you've fell in love with her yourself," it says. "Be honest and sailor-like—don't skulk under false colours—speak up," it says. "Take her, you dog, and with her my blessin'!"

[Bridesmaids. "Hail the Bridegroom—hail the bride!"—]

Rob. Will you be quiet! Go away! [Chorus make faces at him and exeunt.] Vulgar girls!

Rich. What could I do? I'm bound to obey my heart's dictates.

Rob. Of course—no doubt. It's quite right—I don't mind—that is, not particularly—only it's—it is disappointing,

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