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This character page is designed for use with Total Drama Island, by Gilbert and Sullivan
Characterization[]
Trent is the cast's cool musician. He was something of a cipher, although he performed competently in the challenges, and being Gwen’s love interest appeared to be his main dramatic function. Trent was eliminated after Heather staged a compromising situation to estrange him from Gwen. That incident, and its aftermath, is particularly relevant to the TDI-G&S compilation.
Trent's Theme[]
“A Wandering Minstrel I” from The Mikado
(click the link below for the MIDI file)
"A Wandering Minstrel, I" from Gilbert & Sullivan's The Mikado
Trent's theme
A wandering minstrel I—
A thing of shreds and patches,
Of ballads, songs and snatches,
And dreamy lullaby!
My catalogue is long,
Through every passion ranging,
And to your humors changing
I tune my supple song!
Are you in sentimental mood?
I’ll sigh with you—
On maiden’s coldness do you brood?
I’ll do so, too—
I’ll charm your willing ears
With songs of lovers’ fears,
While sympathetic tears
My cheeks bedew—
But if patriotic sentiment is wanted,
I’ve patriotic ballads cut and dried;
For where’er our country’s banner may be planted,
All other local banners are defied!
Our warriors, in serried ranks assembled,
Never quail—or they conceal it if they do—
And I shouldn’t be surprised if nations trembled
Before the mighty troops of Titipu!
And if you call for a song of the sea,
We’ll heave the capstan round,
With a yeo heave ho, for the wind is free,
The anchor’s a-trip and her helm’s a-lee,
Hurrah for the homeward bound!
Then man the capstan—off we go,
As the fiddler swings us round,
With a yeo heave ho,
And a rumbelow,
Hurrah for the homeward bound!
A wandering minstrel I—
A thing of shreds and patches,
Of ballads, songs and snatches,
And dreamy lullaby!
My catalogue is long,
Through every passion ranging,
And to your humors changing
I tune my supple song!
Trent/Gwen Relationship Theme[]
“There Grew a Little Flower” from Ruddigore
(click on the link below for the MIDI file)
There grew a little flower
‘Neath a great oak tree:
When the tempest ‘gan to lower
Little heeded she:
No need had she to cower,
For she dreaded not its power—
She was happy in the bower
Of her great oak tree!
Sing hey,
Lackaday!
Let the tears fall free
For the pretty little flower and her great oak tree!
When she found that he was fickle,
Was that great oak tree,
She was in a pretty pickle,
As she well might be—
But his gallantries were mickle,
For Death followed with his sickle,
And her tears began to trickle
For her great oak tree!
Sing hey, etc.
Said she, “He loved me never,
Did that great oak tree,
But I’m neither rich nor clever,
And so why should he?
But though fate our fortunes sever,
To be constant I’ll endeavor,
Aye, forever and forever,
To my great oak tree!”
Sing hey, etc.