| Description |
File |
| Overture |
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| Tripping hither, tripping hither |
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| Iolanthe! From thy dark exile thou art summoned |
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| Good morrow, good mother |
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| Fare thee well, attractive stranger |
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| Good morrow, good lover |
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| None shall part us from each other |
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| Loudly let the trumpet bray |
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| The law is the true embodiment of everything that's excellent |
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| My well-loved Lord and Guardian dear |
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| Nay, tempt me not |
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| My Lords, it may not be |
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| When I went to the Bar as a very young man |
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| When darkly looms the day |
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| Oh shameless one, tremble |
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| For riches and rank I do not long |
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| Can I inactive see my fortunes fade |
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| Go away, madam |
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| Oh, Chancellor unwary |
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| Henceforth Strephon cast away |
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With Strephon for your foe, no doubt, a fearful prosect opens out
— Young Strephon is the kind of lout we do not care a fig about |
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| When all night long a chap remains |
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| Strephon's a Member of Parliament |
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| When Britain really ruled the waves |
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| In vain to us you plead |
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| Oh, foolish fay |
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| Tho' p'r'aps I may incur your blame |
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| Love unrequited robs me of my rest |
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| If you go in |
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| If we're weak enough to tarry |
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| My Lord, a suppliant at your feet I kneel |
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| Soon as we may, off and away |
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