The Mountebanks Dialogue Folowing Song No. 18

Dialogue Following Song No. 18

BARTOLO.: Nita.
NITA.: Well?
BARTOLO.: This is a very uncomfortable state of things.
NITA.: Very. How do you find your clockwork this evening.
BARTOLO.: Ticking, ticking, thank you. And you?
NITA.: I fancy I want regulating.
BARTOLO.: Eh?
NITA.: I think I'm rather fast.
BARTOLO.: Nita, you surprise and shock me.
NITA.: Mechanically speaking, I mean.
BARTOLO.: Oh, I take you. This condition of existence is rather degrading. We are common clockwork, I believe?
NITA.: Mere Geneva. The cheapest thing in the trade.
BARTOLO.: So I was given to understand.
NITA.: It might have been worse. We might have been Waterbury, with interchangeable insides.
BARTOLO.: That's true. But when I remember the delicately-beautiful apparatus with which I was filled from head to foot - and which never, never ticked - when I contemplate the exquisite adjustment of means to end - which never, never wanted oiling - I am shocked to think that I am reduced to a mere mechanical complication of arbors, pallets, wheels, mainsprings, and escapements!
NITA.: Still you were always complaining. You never were quite well.
BARTOLO.: Because I eat too much.
NITA.: That's true.
BARTOLO.: Never weary of putting into operation the exquisitely-beautiful apparatus of digestion, I over-taxed its powers. I was a scientific enthusiast and I over-did it. Still, it is something to have an apparatus that never, never aches. I - I - hallo!
NITA.: What's the matter?
BARTOLO (very slowly).: I - beg your pardon. I - think - I - must be running down. May - I - trouble you? They've thoughtlessly - put the key-hole - in - the - small of my back - and - I - can't get at it. (NITA winds him up.) Thank you. That's very nice, indeed. Now I can go on again. Hallo! c'ck! c'ck! c'ck!
NITA.: What's wrong now?
BARTOLO.: I - c'ck - c'ck - I am not conversant with clockwork; but do you feel, from time to time, a kind of jerkiness that catches you just here?
NITA.: No; I work as smooth as butter. The continued ticking is tiresome; but it's only for an hour.
BARTOLO.: The ticking is simply maddening. C'ck! C'ck! There it is again!
NITA.: Something wrong with your works, I'm afraid. Stop a bit - I'll see. (Opens door in chest, revealing a quantity of clockwork.) No; all right there. Turn round. (He does so; she opens door in the back of his head.) No; the head appears to be empty. (Opens door in his side.) I see what it is; a halfpenny has got into your escapement. Stop a bit. (Takes out halfpenny.)
BARTOLO.: Bless my heart, how dangerous! What a relief! Thank you very much. You may keep it for your trouble; but do not - oh, do not spend it on foolishness.
NITA.: While I'm about it, I'll just oil you, and then -- (Proceeds to oil his works with a feather.)
BARTOLO (squirming).: Don't! You tickle!
PIETRO (not seeing them).: The Duke and Duchess will be here in half an hour - their escort is already in sight. Dying by slow poison is a very painful process, and I couldn't have held out much longer. (Sees them.) Nita! what are you doing?
NITA.: I'm oiling Bartolo.
BARTOLO.: I am being oiled by Nita, and she does tickle! I don't like it. At least I don like it, but it's wrong.
PIETRO.: How dare you take such a liberty? Shut the gentleman up at once. Nice occupation for a young lady!
NITA.: But there's something wrong with his works.
PIETRO.: That's no affair of yours. If Bartolo's works are out of order, that is a matter for Bartolo's medical attendant - I mean his clockmaker. Don't let me catch you oiling him again.
NITA.: Ha! Ha! Ha!
PIETRO.: If this occurs again, I'll take both your keys away - upon my word I will!