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Freshwater: Act 1 Scene 2

Act 1 Scene 2 SCORE
page 172  Interlude
page 183  'Well, here we are!'
page 198  'Here's my wedding ring'
page 206  'Well that's unlucky, because today I'm Modesty'
page 212  'Well, it's better than that awful model's throne'
page 220  'It makes me think such dreadful thoughts'
page 225  'I've been in the tropics, but I've seen nothing like this'
page 241  'That's fixed then'
page 255  'Look. Look. What's that?'
page 259  'There, porpoise – take that!'

Act 1 Scene 2 RECORDING—December 5, 1994 (Cast 2) performance
n.b. this recording is of the unrevised version and in many places, deviates substantially from the revised score
Act 1 Scene 1
Act 2

Act 1 Scene 2 SCENARIO
John Craig and Ellen, both in bathing costumes, are sitting on the Needles, a group of chalk rocks off the coast of the Isle of Wight, some two miles from Dimbola. Ellen inquires whether he is "the young man who jumped over the lane on a red horse" and John whether she is "the young woman who was picking primroses in the lane." As details of Ellen's constrained and bizarre life emerge, and of John's plain and commonsensical life, they are drawn closer together until they kiss. Nell, as John prefers to call her, suspects this is wrong–it makes her think of "beef steaks; beer; standing under an umbrella in the rain; waiting to go into a theatre; crowds of people; hot chestnuts; omnibuses—all t\he things I've always dreamed about." After some thought and discussion they decide to marry and to live in Bloomsbury in the heart of London. A sigh is heard and Nell tells John that it must be one of the reporters forever lying in wait for Tennyson. Nell spots a hungry porpoise, removes her wedding ring and throws it out to sea—"Now you're married to Mr. Watts, porpoise! The Utmost for the Highest, porpoise." John and Nell exit.

Act 1 Scene 2 LIBRETTO
The Needles
Ellen and John Craig are sitting on the rocks wearing bathing costumes 

John
Well, here we are! 

Ellen
Oh, how lovely it is to sit on a rock in the middle of the sea! 

John
In the middle of the sea? 

Ellen
Yes, it's a sea.
Are you the young man who jumped over my head in the lane? 

John
I am.
Are you the young woman who was picking primroses in the lane? 

Ellen
I am. 

John
Lor'
What a lark! 

Ellen
Oh you mustn't let Signor hear you say that—or if you do, please pronounce the final ´d.´ 

John
D—be damned!
Who's Signor? 

Ellen
Who's Signor?
Oh he's the modern Titian. 

John
Titian? 

Ellen
Yes.
Titian. Titian. Titian. 

John
Sneezing?
I hope you haven't caught cold 

Ellen
No.
I feel heavenly.
As warm as toast—sitting in the sun here,
You can't think how cold it is sitting for Modesty in a veil. 

John
Sitting for Modesty in a veil?
What the dickens d´you mean? 

Ellen
Well, I'm married to a great artist.
And if you're married to a great artist you do sit for Modesty in a veil. 

John
Married?
You're a married woman?
You?
Was that old gentleman with a white beard your husband? 

Ellen
Oh everybody's got a white beard at Dimbola.
But if you mean, am I married to the old gentleman with a white beard 
 in the lane, picking primroses, 
yes, of course I am.
Here's my wedding ring
She pulls it off her finger
With this ring I thee wed.
With this body I thee worship.
Aren't you married?
She puts the ring back on

John
I married?
Why I'm only twenty-two.
I'm a lieutenant in the Royal Navy.
That's my ship over there.
Can you see it? 

Ellen
Looking
That?
That's a real ship.
That's not the kind of ship that sinks with all we love below the verge. 

John
My dear girl. I don't know what you're talking about.
Of course it's a real ship.
The 'Iron Duke.'
Thirty-two guns.
Captain Andrew Hatch.
My name's Craig.
Lieutenant John Craig of Her Majesty's Navy. 

Ellen
And my name's Mrs. George Frederick Watts. 

John
But haven't you another? 

Ellen
Oh plenty!
Sometimes I'm Modesty
Sometimes I'm Chastity.
Sometimes, generally before breakfast, I'm merely Nell. 

John
I like Nell best. 

Ellen
Well that's unlucky, because today I'm Modesty.
Modesty crouching at the feet of Mammon.
Only Mammon's great toe was out of drawing and so I got down; and then I heard a whistle.
Dear me, I suppose I'm an abandoned wretch.
Everybody says how proud I ought to be.
Think of hanging in the Tate Gallery for ever and ever—
what an honour for a young woman like me!
Only—isn't it awful—
I like swimming. 

John
And sitting on a rock, Nell? 

Ellen
And sitting on a rock.
Well, it's better than that awful model's throne.
Mrs. Cameron killed the turkey today.
The Muse has to have wings, you see.
But you can't think how they tickle. 

John
What the Dickens d'you mean?
Who's Mrs. Cameron? 

Ellen
Mrs. Cameron is the photographer;
and Mr. Cameron is the philosopher;
and Mr. Tennyson is the poet;
and Signor is the artist.
And beauty is truth;
truth beauty;
that is all we know and all we ought to ask.
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever.
Oh, and the Utmost for the Highest.
I was forgetting that. 

John
It's worse than shooting the sun with a sextant.
Is this the Isle of Wight?
Or is it the Isle of Dogs—the isle where the mad dogs go? 

Ellen
The apple trees bloom all the year here;
the nightingales sing all the night. 

John
Look here, Nell.
Let's talk sense for a minute.
Have you ever been in love? 

Ellen
In love?
Aren't I married? 

John
Oh but like this
He kisses her

Ellen
Not quite like that.
He kisses her again
But I rather like it.
Of course, it must be wrong. 

John
Wrong?
He kisses her once more
What's wrong about that? 

Ellen
It makes me think such dreadful thoughts, I don't think I could dare to tell you.
It makes me think of—
beef steaks; beer; standing under an umbrella in the rain;
crowds of people; hot chestnuts; omnibuses—all the things I've always dreamed about.
And then, Signor snores.
And I get up and go to the casement.
And the moon's shining.
And the bee's on the thorn
And the dew's on the lawn.
And the nightingale's forlorn. 

John
Struth!
I've been in the tropics, but I've seen nothing like this.
Now look here, Nell.
I've got something to say to you—something very sensible.
I'm not the sort of man who makes up his mind in a hurry.
I took a good look at you as I jumped over that lane.
And I said to myself as I landed in the turnip field, that's the girl for me.
And I'm not the sort of man who does things in a hurry.
Look here
He takes out his watch
Let's be married at half past two. 

Ellen
Married?
Where shall we live? 

John
In Bloomsbury. 

Ellen
Are there any apple trees there? 

John
Not one. 

Ellen
Any nightingales? 

John
None. 

Ellen
What shall we live on? 

John
Bread and butter.
Sausages and kippers. 

Ellen
Bread and butter.
Sausages and kippers.
No bees.
No apple trees.
No nightingales.
Sausages and kippers.
John, this is Heaven! 

John
That's fixed then.
Two thirty sharp. 

Ellen
Oh, but what about this?
She takes off her wedding ring. 

John
Did Mr. Watts really give you that? 

Ellen
Yes. It was dug out of a tomb.
It symbolises—let me see,
what does this wedding ring symbolise?
With this ring I thee wed;
with this brush I thee worship—
It symbolises Signor's marriage to his art. 

John
He's committed bigamy.
I thought so!
There's something fishy about that old boy,
I said to myself, as I jumped over the lane;
and I'm not the sort of chap to make up his mind in a hurry. 

Ellen
Fishy?
About Mr. Watts? 

John
Very fishy: yes. 

A loud sigh is heard 

Watts
Offstage
Oh, oh, oh.

Ellen
Looking round
I thought I heard someone sighing. 

John
Looking round
I thought I saw someone spying. 

Ellen
That's only one of those dreadful reporters.
The beach is always full of them.
They hide behind the rocks, you know,
Looking out toward the sea in case the Poet Laureate may be listening to
 the scream of the maddened beach dragged backward by the waves.
Look.
Look.
What's that? 

John
It looks like a porpoise. 

Ellen
A porpoise?
A real porpoise? 

John
Of course, Nell.
What else should a porpoise be? 

Ellen
Oh I don't know.
But as nightingales are widows, I thought the porpoise might be a widower.
He sounds so sad.
Oh poor porpoise, how sad you sound!
I'm sure he's hungry.
Look how his mouth opens!
Haven't we anything we could give him? 

John
I don't go about with my bathing drawers full of sprats. 

Ellen
And I've got nothing—or only a ring
There, porpoise—take that!
She throws the porpoise her wedding ring

John
Lord, Nell!
Now you've gone and done it!
The porpoise has swallowed your wedding ring! 

Ellen
Now you're married to Mr. Watts, porpoise!
"The Utmost for the Highest," porpoise.
Look upwards, porpoise!
And keep perfectly still!
They start to exit
I suppose it was a female porpoise, John? 

John
That don't matter a damn to Mr. Watts, Nell.
They exit