Libretto list

H.M.S. Pinafore Libretto

H.M.S. PINAFORE

OR,

THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR

Libretto by William S.Gilbert
Music by Sir Arthur Sullivan

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE RT.HON SIR JOSEPH PORTER, K.C.B.
(First Lord of the Admiralty).
CAPTAIN CORCORAN (Commanding H.M.S.Pinafore).
TOM TUCKER (Midshipmite).
RALPH RAKESTRAW (Able Seaman).
DICK DEADEYE (Able Seaman).
BILL BOBSTAY (Boatswain's Mate).
BOB BECKET (Carpenter's Mate).
JOSEPHINE (the Captain's Daughter).
HEBE (Sir Joseph Porter's First Cousin).
MRS.CRIPPS (LITTLE BUTTERCUP) (A Portsmouth Bumboat Woman).
First Lord's Sisters, his Cousins, his Aunts, Sailors, Marines, etc.

Scene:
QUARTER-DECK OF H.M. S. PINAFORE, OFF PORTSMOUTH

ACT I.
—Noon.
ACT II.
—Night

First produced at the Opera Comique on May 25, 1878.

ACT I

SCENE—Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore.
Sailors, led by BOATSWAIN,
discovered cleaning brasswork, splicing rope, etc.


CHORUS

We sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship's a beauty;
We're sober men and true,
And attentive to our duty.

When the balls whistle free
O'er the bright blue sea,
We stand to our guns all day;
When at anchor we ride
On the Portsmouth tide,
We have plenty of time to play.


Enter LITTLE BUTTERCUP, with large basket on her arm

RECITATIVE

Hail, men-o'-war's men-safeguards of your nation
Here is an end, at last, of all privation;
You've got your play—spare all you can afford
To welcome Little Buttercup on board.


ARIA

For I'm called Little Buttercup—dear Little Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why,
But still I'm called Buttercup—poor little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup I!

I've snuff and tobaccy, and excellent jacky,
I've scissors, and watches, and knives
I've ribbons and laces to set off the faces
Of pretty young sweethearts and wives.


I've treacle and toffee, I've tea and I've coffee,
Soft tommy and succulent chops;
I've chickens and conies, and pretty polonies,
And excellent peppermint drops.


Then buy of your Buttercup—dear Little Buttercup;
Sailors should never be shy;
So, buy of your Buttercup—poor Little Buttercup;
Come, of your Buttercup buy!

BOAT.
Aye, Little Buttercup—and well called—for you're the
rosiest,
the roundest, and the reddest beauty in all Spithead.

BUT.
Red, am I? and round—and rosy! Maybe, for I have
dissembled well!
But hark ye, my merry friend—hast ever thought that beneath a
gay and
frivolous exterior there may lurk a canker-worm which is slowly
but
surely eating its way into one's very heart?

BOAT.
No, my lass, I can't say I've ever thought that.


Enter DICK DEADEYE.
He pushes through sailors, and comes down

DICK.
I have thought it often.
(All recoil from him)
BUT.
Yes, you look like it! What's the matter with the man?
Isn't he
well?
BOAT.
Don't take no heed of him; that's only poor Dick Deadeye.

DICK.
I say—it's a beast of a name, ain't it—Dick Deadeye?
BUT.
It's not a nice name.

DICK.
I'm ugly too, ain't I?
BUT.
You are certainly plain.

DICK.
And I'm three-cornered too, ain't I?
BUT.
You are rather triangular.

DICK.
Ha! ha! That's it.
I'm ugly, and they hate me for it; for
you all
hate me, don't you?
ALL.
We do!
DICK.
There!
BOAT.
Well, Dick, we wouldn't go for to hurt any fellow
creature's
feelings, but you can't expect a chap with such a name as Dick
Deadeye to
be a popular character—now can you?
DICK.
No.

BOAT.
It's asking too much, ain't it?
DICK.
It is.
From such a face and form as mine the noblest
sentiments
sound like the black utterances of a depraved imagination It is
human
nature—I am resigned.


RECITATIVE

BUT.
(looking down hatchway).

But, tell me—who's the youth whose faltering feet
With difficulty bear him on his course?
BOAT.
That is the smartest lad in all the fleet—
Ralph Rackstraw!
BUT.
Ha! That name! Remorse! remorse!

Enter RALPH from hatchway

MADRIGAL—RALPH

The Nightingale
Sighed for the moon's bright ray
And told his tale
In his own melodious way!
He sang "Ah, well-a-day!"

ALL.
He sang "Ah, well-a-day!"
The lowly vale
For the mountain vainly sighed,
To his humble wail
The echoing hills replied.

They sang "Ah, well-a-day!"

All.
They sang "Ah, well-a-day!"

RECITATIVE

I know the value of a kindly chorus,
But choruses yield little consolation
When we have pain and sorrow too before us!
I love—and love, alas, above my station!

BUT.
(aside).
He loves—and loves a lass above his station!
ALL (aside).
Yes, yes, the lass is much above his station!

Exit LITTLE BUTTERCUP

BALLAD — RALPH

A maiden fair to see,
The pearl of minstrelsy,
A bud of blushing beauty;
For whom proud nobles sigh,
And with each other vie
To do her menial's duty.

ALL.
To do her menial's duty.


A suitor, lowly born,
With hopeless passion torn,
And poor beyond denying,
Has dared for her to pine
At whose exalted shrine
A world of wealth is sighing.

ALL.
A world of wealth is sighing.


Unlearned he in aught
Save that which love has taught
(For love had been his tutor);
Oh, pity, pity me—
Our captain's daughter she,
And I that lowly suitor!
ALL.
And he that lowly suitor!

BOAT.
Ah, my poor lad, you've climbed too high:
our worthy
captain's
child won't have nothin' to say to a poor chap like you.
Will
she, lads?
ALL.
No, no.

DICK.
No, no, captains' daughters don't marry foremast hands.

ALL (recoiling from him).
Shame! shame!
BOAT.
Dick Deadeye, them sentiments o' yourn are a disgrace to
our
common natur'.

RALPH, But it's a strange anomaly, that the daughter of a man
who hails
from the quarter-deck may not love another who lays out on the
fore-yard
arm.
For a man is but a man, whether he hoists his flag at the
main-truck
or his slacks on the main-deck.

DICK.
Ah, it's a queer world!
RALPH.
Dick Deadeye, I have no desire to press hardly on you,
but such
a revolutionary sentiment is enough to make an honest sailor
shudder.

BOAT.
My lads, our gallant captain has come on deck; let us
greet him
as so brave an officer and so gallant a seaman deserves.


Enter CAPTAIN CORCORAN

RECITATIVE

CAPT.
My gallant crew, good morning.

ALL (saluting).
Sir, good morning!
CAPT.
I hope you're all quite well.

ALL(as before).
Quite well; and you, sir?
CAPT.
I am in reasonable health, and happy
To meet you all once more.

ALL (as before).
You do us proud, sir!

SONG—CAPTAIN

CAPT.
I am the Captain of the Pinafore;
ALL.
And a right good captain, tool
You're very, very good,
And be it understood,
I command a right good crew,
ALL.
We're very, very good,
And be it understood,
He commands a right good crew.

CAPT.
Though related to a peer,
I can hand, reef, and steer,
And ship a selvagee;
I am never known to quail
At the furry of a gale,
And I'm never, never sick at sea!
ALL.
What, never?
CAPT.
No, never!
ALL.
What, never?
CAPT.
Hardly ever!
ALL.
He's hardly ever sick at seal
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore!

CAPT.
I do my best to satisfy you all—
ALL.
And with you we're quite content.

CAPT.
You're exceedingly polite,
And I think it only right
To return the compliment.

ALL.
We're exceedingly polite,
And he thinks it's only right
To return the compliment.

CAPT.
Bad language or abuse,
I never, never use,
Whatever the emergency;
Though "Bother it" I may
Occasionally say,
I never use a big, big D—
ALL.
What, never?
CAPT.
No, never!
ALL.
What, never?
CAPT.
Hardly ever!
ALL.
Hardly ever swears a big, big D—
Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,
For the well-bred Captain of the Pinafore!
[After song exeunt all but
CAPTAIN]

Enter LITTLE BUTTERCUP

RECITATIVE

BUT.
Sir, you are sad! The silent eloquence
Of yonder tear that trembles on your eyelash
Proclaims a sorrow far more deep than common;
Confide in me—fear not—I am a mother!

CAPT.
Yes, Little Buttercup, I'm sad and sorry—
My daughter, Josephine, the fairest flower
That ever blossomed on ancestral timber,
Is sought in marriage by Sir Joseph Porter,
Our Admiralty's First Lord, but for some reason
She does not seem to tackle kindly to it.


BUT, (with emotion).
Ah, poor Sir Joseph! Ah, I know too well
The anguish of a heart that loves but vainly!
But see, here comes your most attractive daughter.

I go—Farewell!
[Exit.


CAPT.
(looking after her).
A plump and pleasing person!
[Exit.


Enter JOSEPHINE, twining some flowers which she carries in a
small
basket

BALLAD JOSEPHINE

Sorry her lot who loves too well,
Heavy the heart that hopes but vainly,
Sad are the sighs that own the spell,
Uttered by eyes that speak too plainly;
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When love is alive and hope is dead!

Sad is the hour when sets the sun—
Dark is the night to earth's poor daughters,
When to the ark the wearied one
Flies from the empty waste of waters!
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When love is alive and hope is dead!

Enter CAPTAIN

CAPT.
My child, I grieve to see that you are a prey to
melancholy.
You
should look your best to-day, for Sir Joseph Porter, K.
C.
B.
, will
be here
this afternoon to claim your promised hand.

JOS.
Ah, father, your words cut me to the quick.
I can esteem—
reverence—venerate Sir Joseph, for he is a great and good man;
but oh, I
cannot love him! My heart is already given.

CAPT.
(aside).
It is then as I feared.
(Aloud) Given? And to
whom? Not
to some gilded lordling?
JOS.
No, father—the object of my love is no lordling.
Oh, pity
me, for
he is but a humble sailor on board your own ship!
CAPT.
Impossible!
JOS.
Yes, it is true.

CAPT.
A common sailor? Oh fie!
JOS.
I blush for the weakness that allows me to cherish such a
passion.

I hate myself when I think of the depth to which I have stooped
in
permitting myself to think tenderly of one so ignobly born, but I
love
him! I love him! I love him! (Weeps)
CAPT.
Come, my child, let us talk this over.
In a matter of the
heart I
would not coerce my daughter—I attach but little value to rank
or
wealth, but the line must be drawn somewhere.
A man in that
station may
be brave and worthy, but at every step he would commit solecisms
that
society would never pardon.

JOS.
Oh, I have thought of this night and day.
But fear not,
father, I
have a heart, and therefore I love; but I am your daughter, and
therefore
I am proud.
Though I carry my love with me to the tomb, he shall
never,
never know it.

CAPT.
You are my daughter after all.
But see, Sir Joseph's
barge
approaches, manned by twelve trusty oarsmen and accompanied by
the
admiring crowd of sisters, cousins, and aunts that attend him
wherever he
goes.
Retire, my daughter, to your cabin—take this, his
photograph, with
you—it may help to bring you to a more reasonable frame of mind.

JOS.
My own thoughtful father!

[Exit JOSEPHINE.
CAPTAIN remains and ascends the poop-deck.


BARCAROLLE.
(invisible)

Over the bright blue sea
Comes Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B.
,
Wherever he may go
Bang-bang the loud nine-pounders go!
Shout o'er the bright blue sea
For Sir Joseph Porter, K.C. B.


[During this the Crew have entered on tiptoe, listening
attentive to
the song.


CHORUS OF SAILORS

Sir Joseph's barge is seen,
And its crowd of blushing beauties,
We hope he'll find us clean,
And attentive to our duties.

We sail, we sail the ocean blue,
And our saucy ship's a beauty.

We're sober, sober men and true
And attentive to our duty.

We're smart and sober men,
And quite devoid of fe-ar,
In all the Royal N.

None are so smart as we are.


Enter SIR JOSEPH'S FEMALE RELATIVES

(They dance round stage)

REL.
Gaily tripping,
Lightly skipping,
Flock the maidens to the shipping.

SAILORS.
Flags and guns and pennants dipping!
All the ladies love the shipping.

REL.
Sailors sprightly
Always rightly
Welcome ladies so politely.

SAILORS.
Ladies who can smile so brightly,
Sailors welcome most politely.

CAPT.
(from poop).
Now give three cheers, I'll lead the way
ALL.
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurray!

Enter SIR JOSEPH with COUSIN HEBE

SONG—SIR JOSEPH

I am the monarch of the sea,
The ruler of the Queen's Navee,
Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants.

COUSIN HEBE.
And we are his sisters, and his cousins and his
aunts!
REL.
And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
SIR JOSEPH.
When at anchor here I ride,
My bosom swells with pride,
And I snap my fingers at a foeman's
taunts;
COUSIN HEBE.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
ALL.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
SIR JOSEPH.
But when the breezes blow,
I generally go below,
And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants;
COUSIN HEBE.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
ALL.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
His sisters and his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
And his aunts!

SONG — SIR JOSEPH

When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney's firm.

I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.

I polished up that handle so carefullee
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.
—He polished, etc.


As office boy I made such a mark
That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.

I served the writs with a smile so bland,
And I copied all the letters in a big round hand—
I copied all the letters in a hand so free,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.
- He copied, etc.


In serving writs I made such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;
I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit
For the pass examination at the Institute,
And that pass examination did so well for me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.
—And that pass examination, etc.


Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership.

And that junior partnership, I ween,
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.

But that kind of ship so suited me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.
- But that kind, etc.


I grew so rich that I was sent
By a pocket borough into Parliament.

I always voted at my party's call,
And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.

I thought so little, they rewarded me
By making me the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.
- He thought so little, etc.


Now landsmen all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,
Be careful to be guided by this golden rule—
Stick close to your desks and never go to sea,
And you all may be rulers of the Queen's Navee!

CHORUS.
—Stick close, etc.


SIR JOSEPH.
You've a remarkably fine crew, Captain Corcoran.

CAPT.
It is a fine crew, Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH.
(examining a very small midshipman).
A British
sailor is a
splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran.

CAPT.
A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH.
I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain
Corcoran.

CAPT.
Indeed I hope so, Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH, Never forget that they are the bulwarks of
England's
greatness, Captain Corcoran.

CAPT.
So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH.
No bullying, I trust—no strong language of any
kind, eh?
CAPT.
Oh, never, Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH.
What, never?
CAPT.
Hardly ever, Sir Joseph.
They are an excellent crew, and
do their
work thoroughly without it.

SIR JOSEPH.
Don't patronise them, sir—pray, don't patronise
them.

CAPT.
Certainly not, Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH.
That you are their captain is an accident of birth.

I
cannot permit these noble fellows to be patronised because an
accident of
birth has placed you above them and them below you.

CAPT.
I am the last person to insult a British sailor, Sir
Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH.
You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran.

Desire
that splendid seaman to step forward.


(DICK comes forward)

SIR JOSEPH.
No, no, the other splendid seaman.

CAPT.
Ralph Rackstraw, three paces to the front—march!
SIR JOSEPH (sternly).
If what?
CAPT.
I beg your pardon—I don't think I understand you.

SIR JOSEPH.
If you please.

CAPT.
Oh, yes, of course.
If you please.
(RALPH steps forward)
SIR JOSEPH.
You're a remarkably fine fellow.

RALPH.
Yes, your honour.

SIR JOSEPH.
And a first-rate seaman, I'll be bound.

RALPH.
There's not a smarter topman in the Navy, your honour,
though I
say it who shouldn't.

SIR JOSEPH.
Not at all.
Proper self-respect, nothing more.
Can
you
dance a hornpipe?
RALPH.
No, your honour.

SIR JOSEPH.
That's a pity:
all sailors should dance hornpipes.

I will
teach you one this evening, after dinner.
Now tell me—don't be
afraid—
how does your captain treat you, eh?
RALPH.
A better captain don't walk the deck, your honour.

ALL.
Aye; Aye!
SIR JOSEPH.
Good.
I like to hear you speak well of your
commanding
officer; I daresay he don't deserve it, but still it does you
credit.
Can
you sing?
RALPH.
I can hum a little, your honour.

SIR JOSEPH.
Then hum this at your leisure.
(Giving him MS.

music) It
is a song that I have composed for the use of the Royal Navy.
It
is
designed to encourage independence of thought and action in the
lower
branches of the service, and to teach the principle that a
British sailor
is any man's equal, excepting mine.
Now, Captain Corcoran, a word
with
you in your cabin, on a tender and sentimental subject.

CAPT.
Aye, aye,
Sir Joseph (Crossing) Boatswain, in commemoration of this
joyous
occasion, see that extra grog is served out to the ship's company
at
seven bells.

BOAT.
Beg pardon.
If what, your honour?
CAPT.
If what? I don't think I understand you.

BOAT.
If you please, your honour.

CAPT.
What!
SIR JOSEPH.
The gentleman is quite right.
If you please.

CAPT.
(stamping his foot impatiently).
If you please!

[Exit.

SIR JOSEPH.
For I hold that on the seas
The expression, "if you please",
A particularly gentlemanly tone implants.

COUSIN HEBE.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
ALL.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!

[Exeunt SIR JOSEPH AND
RELATIVES.


BOAT.
Ah! Sir Joseph's true gentleman; courteous and
considerate to the
very humblest.

RALPH.
True, Boatswain, but we are not the very humblest.
Sir
Joseph
has explained our true position to us.
As he says, a British
seaman is
any man's equal excepting his, and if Sir Joseph says that, is it
not our
duty to believe him?
ALL.
Well spoke! well spoke!
DICK.
You're on a wrong tack, and so is he.
He means well, but
he don't
know.
When people have to obey other people's orders, equality's
out of
the question.

ALL (recoiling).
Horrible! horrible!
BOAT.
Dick Deadeye, if you go for to infuriate this here ship's
company
too far, I won't answer for being able to hold 'em in.
I'm
shocked!
that's what I am—shocked!
RALPH.
Messmates, my mind's made up.
I'll speak to the
captain's
daughter, and tell her, like an honest man, of the honest love I
have for
her.

ALL.
Aye, aye!
RALPH.
Is not my love as good as another's? Is not my heart as
true as
another's? Have I not hands and eyes and ears and limbs like
another?
ALL.
Aye, Aye!
RALPH.
True, I lack birth—
BOAT.
You've a berth on board this very ship.

RALPH.
Well said—I had forgotten that.
Messmates—what do you
say? Do
you approve my determination?
ALL.
We do.

DICK.
I don t.

BOAT.
What is to be done with this here hopeless chap? Let us
sing him
the song that Sir Joseph has kindly composed for us.
Perhaps it
will
bring this here miserable creetur to a proper state of mind.


GLEE!—RALPH, BOATSWAIN, BOATSWAIN'S MATE, and CHORUS

A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word.

His nose should pant and his lip should curl,
His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl,
His bosom should heave and his heart should glow,
And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.


CHORUS.
—His nose should pant, etc.


His eyes should flash with an inborn fire,
His brow with scorn be wrung;
He never should bow down to a domineering frown,
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue.

His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl;
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude—(pose).


CHORUS.
—His foot should stamp, etc.


[All dance off excepting RALPH, who remains, leaning pensively
against
bulwark.


Enter JOSEPHINE from cabin

JOS.
It is useless—Sir Joseph's attentions nauseate me.
I know
that he
is a truly great and good man, for he told me so himself, but to
me he
seems tedious, fretful, and dictatorial.
Yet his must be a mind
of no
common order, or he would not dare to teach my dear father to
dance a
hornpipe on the cabin table.
(Sees RALPH) Ralph Rackstraw!
(Overcome by
emotion)
RALPH.
Aye, lady—no other than poor Ralph Rackstraw!
JOS.
(aside).
How my heart beats! (Aloud) And why poor, Ralph?
RALPH.
I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady—rich only
in never-
ending unrest.
In me there meet a combination of antithetical
elements
which are at eternal war with one another.
Driven hither by
objective
influences—thither by subjective emotions—wafted one moment
into
blazing day, by mocking hope—plunged the next into the Cimmerian
darkness of tangible despair, I am but a living ganglion of
irreconcilable antagonisms.
I hope I make myself clear, lady?
JOS.
Perfectly.
(Aside) His simple eloquence goes to my heart.

Oh, if
I dared—but no, the thought is madness! (Aloud) Dismiss these
foolish
fancies, they torture you but needlessly.
Come, make one effort.

RALPH (aside).
I will—one.
(Aloud) Josephine!
JOS.
(Indignantly).
Sir!
RALPH.
Aye, even though Jove's armoury were launched at the
head of the
audacious mortal whose lips, unhallowed by relationship, dared to
breathe
that precious word, yet would I breathe it once, and then
perchance be
silent evermore.
Josephine, in one brief breath I will
concentrate the
hopes, the doubts, the anxious fears of six weary months.

Josephine, I am
a British sailor, and I love you!
JOS.
Sir, this audacity! (Aside) Oh, my heart, my beating
heart!
(Aloud) This unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common
sailor!
(Aside) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (Crossing, aloud)
Oh, sir,
you forget the disparity in our ranks.

RALPH.
I forget nothing, haughty lady.
I love you desperately,
my life
is in your hand—I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I
lack in
education and polite accomplishments, that I will endeavour to
acquire.

Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for
consolation.
I
am proud and cannot stoop to implore.
I have spoken and I wait
your word.

JOS.
You shall not wait long.
Your proffered love I haughtily
reject.

Go, sir, and learn to cast your eyes on some village maiden in
your own
poor rank—they should be lowered before your captain's daughter.


DUET—JOSEPHINE and RALPH

JOS.
Refrain, audacious tar,
Your suit from pressing,
Remember what you are,
And whom addressing!
(Aside)          I'd laugh my rank to scorn
In union holy,
Were he more highly born
Or I more lowly!
RALPH.
Proud lady, have your way,
Unfeeling beauty!
You speak and I obey,
It is my duty!
I am the lowliest tar
That sails the water,
And you, proud maiden, are
My captain's daughter!
(Aside)          My heart with anguish torn
Bows down before her,
She laughs my love to scorn,
Yet I adore her!

[Repeat refrain, ensemble, then exit JOSEPHINE into cabin.


RALPH.
(Recit)   Can I survive this overbearing
Or live a life of mad despairing,
My proffered love despised, rejected?
No, no, it's not to be expected!
(Calling off)
Messmates, ahoy!
Come here! Come here!

Enter SAILORS, HEBE, and RELATIVES

ALL.
Aye, aye, my boy,
What cheer, what cheer?
Now tell us, pray,
Without delay,
What does she say—
What cheer, what cheer?

RALPH (to COUSIN HEBE).
The maiden treats my suit with scorn,
Rejects my humble gift, my lady;
She says I am ignobly born,
And cuts my hopes adrift, my lady.

ALL.
Oh, cruel one.


DICK.
She spurns your suit? Oho! Oho!
I told you so, I told you so.


SAILORS and RELATIVES.

Shall { we } submit? Are { we } but slaves?
they               they
Love comes alike to high and low—
Britannia's sailors rule the waves,
And shall they stoop to insult? No!

DICK.
You must submit, you are but slaves;
A lady she! Oho! Oho!
You lowly toilers of the waves,
She spurns you all—I told you so!

RALPH.
My friends, my leave of life I'm taking,
For oh, my heart, my heart is breaking.

When I am gone, oh, prithee tell
The maid that, as I died, I loved her well!

ALL (turning away, weeping).
Of life, alas! his leave he's
taking,
For ah! his faithful heart is breaking;
When he is gone we'll surely tell
The maid that, as he died, he loved her well.


[During Chorus BOATSWAIN has loaded pistol, which he hands to
RALPH.


RALPH.
Be warned, my messmates all
Who love in rank above you—
For Josephine I fall!

[Puts pistol to his head.
All the sailors stop their
ears.


Enter JOSEPHINE on deck

JOS.
Ah! stay your hand—I love you!
ALL.
Ah! stay your hand—she loves you!
RALPH.
(incredulously).
Loves me?
JOS.
Loves you!
ALL.
Yes, yes—ah, yes,—she loves you!

ENSEMBLE

SAILORS and RELATIVES and JOSEPHINE

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen,
For now the sky is all serene;
The god of day—the orb of love—
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all ablaze.


With wooing words and loving song,
We'll chase the lagging hours along,
And if {I find  } the maiden coy,
we find
I'll } murmur forth decorous joy
We'll
In dreamy roundelays!

DICK DEADEYE

He thinks he's won his Josephine,
But though the sky is now serene,
A frowning thunderbolt above
May end their ill-assorted love
Which now is all ablaze.


Our captain, ere the day is gone,
Will be extremely down upon
The wicked men who art employ
To make his Josephine less coy
In many various ways.
[Exit
DICK.


JOS.
This very night,
HEBE.
With bated breath
RALPH.
And muffled oar—
JOS.
Without a light,
HEBE.
As still as death,
RALPH.
We'll steal ashore
JOS.
A clergyman
RALPH.
Shall make us one
BOAT,                  At half-past ten,
JOS.
And then we can
RALPH                  Return, for none
BOAT.
Can part them then!
ALL.
This very night, etc.


(DICK appears at hatchway)

DICK.
Forbear, nor carry out the scheme you've planned;
She is a lady—you a foremast hand!
Remember, she's your gallant captain's daughter,
And you the meanest slave that crawls the water!
ALL.
Back, vermin, back,
Nor mock us!
Back, vermin, back,
You shock us!
[Exit DICK

Let's give three cheers for the sailor's bride
Who casts all thought of rank aside—
Who gives up home and fortune too
For the honest love of a sailor true!
For a British tar is a soaring soul
As free as a mountain bird!
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word!
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl,
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude—(pose).


GENERAL DANCE

END OF ACT I





ACT II

Same Scene.
Night.
Awning removed.
Moonlight.
CAPTAIN
discovered
singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on a
mandolin.
LITTLE
BUTTERCUP seated on quarterdeck, gazing sentimentally at
him.


SONG—CAPTAIN

Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
I have lived hitherto
Free from breath of slander,
Beloved by all my crew—
A really popular commander.

But now my kindly crew rebel,
My daughter to a tar is partial,
Sir Joseph storms, and, sad to tell,
He threatens a court martial!
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?

BUT.
How sweetly he carols forth his melody to the
unconscious
moon! Of whom is he thinking? Of some high-born beauty? It may
be! Who is
poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his glance to fall
on one so
lowly! And yet if he knew—if he only knew!
CAPT.
(coming down).
Ah! Little Buttercup, still on board?
That is
not quite right, little one.
It would have been more respectable
to have
gone on shore at dusk.

BUT, True, dear Captain—but the recollection of your sad
pale
face seemed to chain me to the ship.
I would fain see you smile
before I
go.

CAPT.
Ah! Little Buttercup, I fear it will be long before I
recover my accustomed cheerfulness, for misfortunes crowd upon
me, and
all my old friends seem to have turned against me!
BUT, Oh no—do not say "all", dear Captain.
That were
unjust to
one, at least.

CAPT.
True, for you are staunch to me.
(Aside) If ever I
gave my
heart again, methinks it would be to such a one as this! (Aloud)
I am
touched to the heart by your innocent regard for me, and were we
differently situated, I think I could have returned it.
But as it
is, I
fear I can never be more to you than a friend.

BUT, I understand! You hold aloof from me because you are
rich and
lofty—and I poor and lowly.
But take care! The poor bumboat
woman has
gipsy blood in her veins, and she can read destinies.

CAPT.
Destinies?
BUT.
There is a change in store for you!
CAPT.
A change?
BUT.
Aye—be prepared!

DUET—LITTLE BUTTERCUP and CAPTAIN

BUT,         Things are seldom what they seem,
Skim milk masquerades as cream;
Highlows pass as patent leathers;
Jackdaws strut in peacock's feathers.

CAPT.
(puzzled).
Very true,
So they do.

BUT.
Black sheep dwell in every fold;
All that glitters is not gold;
Storks turn out to be but logs;
Bulls are but inflated frogs.

CAPT.
(puzzled).
So they be,
Frequentlee.

BUT.
Drops the wind and stops the mill;
Turbot is ambitious brill;
Gild the farthing if you will,
Yet it is a farthing still.

CAPT.
(puzzled).
Yes, I know.

That is so.

Though to catch your drift I'm striving,
It is shady—it is shady;
I don't see at what you're driving,
Mystic lady—mystic lady.

(Aside)     Stern conviction's o'er me stealing,
That the mystic lady's dealing
In oracular revealing.

BUT.
(aside).
Stern conviction's o'er him stealing,
That the mystic lady's dealing
In oracular revealing.

Yes, I know—
That is so!
CAPT.
Though I'm anything but clever,
I could talk like that for ever:

Once a cat was killed by care;
Only brave deserve the fair.

Very true,
So they do.

CAPT.
Wink is often good as nod;
Spoils the child who spares the rod;
Thirsty lambs run foxy dangers;
Dogs are found in many mangers.

BUT.
Frequentlee,
I agree.

Paw of cat the chestnut snatches;
Worn-out garments show new patches;
Only count the chick that hatches;
Men are grown-up catchy-catchies.

BUT.
Yes, I know,
That is so.

(Aside)     Though to catch my drift he's striving,
I'll dissemble—I'll dissemble;
When he sees at what I'm driving,
Let him tremble—let him tremble!

ENSEMBLE

Though a mystic tone { I } borrow,
you
You will } learn the truth with sorrow,
I shall
Here to-day and gone to-morrow;
Yes, I know—
That is so!
[At the end exit LITTLE BUTTERCUP
melodramatically.


CAPT.
Incomprehensible as her utterances are, I nevertheless
feel that
they are dictated by a sincere regard for me.
But to what new
misery is
she referring? Time alone can tell!

Enter SIR JOSEPH

SIR JOSEPH.
Captain Corcoran, I am much disappointed with your
daughter.
In fact, I don't think she will do.

CAPT.
She won't do, Sir Joseph!
SIR JOSEPH.
I'm afraid not.
The fact is, that although I have
urged my
suit with as much eloquence as is consistent with an official
utterance,
I have done so hitherto without success.
How do you account for
this?
CAPT.
Really, Sir Joseph, I hardly know.
Josephine is of course
sensible of your condescension.

SIR JOSEPH.
She naturally would be.

CAPT.
But perhaps your exalted rank dazzles her.

SIR JOSEPH.
You think it does?
CAPT.
I can hardly say; but she is a modest girl, and her
social
position is far below your own.
It may be that she feels she is
not
worthy of you.

SIR JOSEPH.
That is really a very sensible suggestion, and
displays
more knowledge of human nature than I had given you credit for.

CAPT.
See, she comes.
If your lordship would kindly reason with
her and
assure her officially that it is a standing rule at the Admiralty
that
love levels all ranks, her respect for an official utterance
might induce
her to look upon your offer in its proper light.

SIR JOSEPH.
It is not unlikely.
I will adopt your suggestion.

But soft,
she is here.
Let us withdraw, and watch our opportunity.


Enter JOSEPHINE from cabin.
FIRST LORD and CAPTAIN retire

SCENE—JOSEPHINE

The hours creep on apace,
My guilty heart is quaking!
Oh, that I might retrace
The step that I am taking!
Its folly it were easy to be showing,
What I am giving up and whither going.

On the one hand, papa's luxurious home,
Hung with ancestral armour and old brasses,
Carved oak and tapestry from distant Rome,
Rare "blue and white" Venetian finger-glasses,
Rich oriental rugs, luxurious sofa pillows,
And everything that isn't old, from Gillow's.

And on the other, a dark and dingy room,
In some back street with stuffy children crying,
Where organs yell, and clacking housewives fume,
And clothes are hanging out all day a-drying.

With one cracked looking-glass to see your face
in,
And dinner served up in a pudding basin!

A simple sailor, lowly born,
Unlettered and unknown,
Who toils for bread from early mom
Till half the night has flown!
No golden rank can he impart—
No wealth of house or land—
No fortune save his trusty heart
And honest brown right hand!
And yet he is so wondrous fair
That love for one so passing rare,
So peerless in his manly beauty,
Were little else than solemn duty!
Oh, god of love, and god of reason, say,
Which of you twain shall my poor heart obey!

SIR JOSEPH and CAPTAIN enter

SIR JOSEPH.
Madam, it has been represented to me that you are
appalled
by my exalted rank.
I desire to convey to you officially my
assurance,
that if your hesitation is attributable to that circumstance, it
is
uncalled for.

JOS.
Oh! then your lordship is of opinion that married
happiness is not
inconsistent with discrepancy in rank?
SIR JOSEPH.
I am officially of that opinion.

JOS.
That the high and the lowly may be truly happy together,
provided
that they truly love one another?
SIR JOSEPH.
Madam, I desire to convey to you officially my
opinion that
love is a platform upon which all ranks meet.

JOS.
I thank you, Sir Joseph.
I did hesitate, but I will
hesitate no
longer.
(Aside) He little thinks how eloquently he has pleaded
his
rival's cause!

TRIO

FIRST LORD, CAPTAIN, and JOSEPHINE

CAPT.
Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore,
Though his lordship's station's mighty,
Though stupendous be his brain,
Though your tastes are mean and flighty
And your fortune poor and plain,
CAPT.
and      Ring the merry bells on board-ship,
SIR JOSEPH.
Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of { his } lordship
my
With a humble captain's child!
CAPT.
For a humble captain's daughter—
JOS.
For a gallant captain's daughter—
SIR JOSEPH.
And a lord who rules the water—
JOS.
(aside).
And a tar who ploughs the water!
ALL.
Let the air with joy be laden,
Rend with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!
SIR JOSEPH.
Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore,
Though your nautical relation (alluding to CAPT)
In my set could scarcely pass—
Though you occupy a station
In the lower middle class—
CAPT.
and      Ring the merry bells on board-ship,
SIR JOSEPH     Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of { my } lordship
your
With a humble captain's child!
CAPT.
For a humble captain's daughter—
JOS.
For a gallant captain's daughter—
SIR JOSEPH.
And a lord who rules the water—
JOS.
(aside).
And a tar who ploughs the water!
ALL.
Let the air with joy be laden,
Rend with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!

JOS.
Never mind the why and wherefore,
Love can level ranks, and therefore
I admit the jurisdiction;
Ably have you played your part;
You have carried firm conviction
To my hesitating heart.

CAPT.
and      Ring the merry bells on board-ship,
SIR JOSEPH.
Rend the air with warbling wild,
For the union of { my } lordship
his
With a humble captain's child!
CAPT.
For a humble captain's daughter—
JOS.
For a gallant captain's daughter—
SIR JOSEPH.
And a lord who rules the water—
JOS.
(aside).
And a tar who ploughs the water!
(Aloud)      Let the air with joy be laden.

CAPT.
and SIR JOSEPH.
Ring the merry bells on board-ship—
JOS.
For the union of a maiden—
CAPT.
and SIR JOSEPH.
For her union with his lordship.

ALL.
Rend with songs the air above
For the man who owns her love!

[Exit JOS.

CAPT.
Sir Joseph, I cannot express to you my delight at the
happy
result of your eloquence.
Your argument was unanswerable.

SIR JOSEPH.
Captain Corcoran, it is one of the happiest
characteristics
of this glorious country that official utterances are invariably
regarded
as unanswerable.
[Exit SIR
JOSEPH.

CAPT.
At last my fond hopes are to be crowned.
My only daughter
is to
be the bride of a Cabinet Minister.
The prospect is Elysian.

(During this
speech DICK DEADEYE has entered)
DICK.
Captain.

CAPT.
Deadeye! You here? Don't! (Recoiling from him)
DICK.
Ah, don't shrink from me, Captain.
I'm unpleasant to look
at, and
my name's agin me, but I ain't as bad as I seem.

CAPT.
What would you with me?
DICK (mysteriously).
I'm come to give you warning.

CAPT.
Indeed! do you propose to leave the Navy then?
DICK.
No, no, you misunderstand me; listen!

DUET
CAPTAIN and DICK DEADEYE

DICK.
Kind Captain, I've important information,
Sing hey, the kind commander that you are,
About a certain intimate relation,
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar.

BOTH.
The merry maiden and the tar.


CAPT.
Good fellow, in conundrums you are speaking,
Sing hey, the mystic sailor that you are;
The answer to them vainly I am seeking;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar.

BOTH              The merry maiden and the tar.


DICK.
Kind Captain, your young lady is a-sighing,
Sing hey, the simple captain that you are,
This very might with Rackstraw to be flying;
Sing hey, the merry maiden and the tar.

BOTH.
The merry maiden and the tar.


CAPT.
Good fellow, you have given timely warning,
Sing hey, the thoughtful sailor that you are,
I'll talk to Master Rackstraw in the morning:

Sing hey, the cat-o'-nine-tails and the tar.

(Producing a
"cat")

BOTH.
The merry cat-o'-nine-tails and the tar!

CAPT.
Dick Deadeye—I thank you for your warning—I will at
once take
means to arrest their flight.
This boat cloak will afford me
ample
disguise—So! (Envelops himself in a mysterious cloak, holding it
before
his face)
DICK.
Ha, ha! They are foiled—foiled—foiled!

Enter Crew on tiptoe, with RALPH and BOATSWAIN meeting
JOSEPHINE, who
enters from cabin on tiptoe, with bundle of necessaries, and
accompanied by LITTLE BUTTERCUP.


ENSEMBLE

Carefully on tiptoe stealing,
Breathing gently as we may,
Every step with caution feeling,
We will softly steal away.


(CAPTAIN stamps)—Chord.


ALL (much alarmed).
Goodness me—
Why, what was that?
DICK.
Silent be,
It was the cat!
ALL.
(reassured).
It was—it was the cat!
CAPT.
(producing cat-o'-nine-tails).
They're right, it was the
cat!

ALL.
Pull ashore, in fashion steady,
Hymen will defray the fare,
For a clergyman is ready
To unite the happy pair!

(Stamp as before, and Chord)

ALL.
Goodness me,
Why, what was that?
DICK.
Silent be,
Again the cat!
ALL.
It was again that cat!
CAPT.
(aside).
They're right, it was the cat!
CAPT.
(throwing off cloak).
Hold! (All start)
Pretty daughter of mine,
I insist upon knowing
Where you may be going
With these sons of the brine,
For my excellent crew,
Though foes they could thump any,
Are scarcely fit company,
My daughter, for you.

CREW.
Now, hark at that, do!
Though foes we could thump any,
We are scarcely fit company
For a lady like you!

RALPH.
Proud officer, that haughty lip uncurl!
Vain man, suppress that supercilious sneer,
For I have dared to love your matchless girl,
A fact well known to all my messmates here!

CAPT.
Oh, horror!

RALPH and Jos.
{ I } humble, poor, and lowly born,
He
The meanest in the port division—
The butt of epauletted scorn—
The mark of quarter-deck derision—
Have } dare to raise { my } wormy eyes
Has                   his
Above the dust to which you'd mould { me
him
In manhood's glorious pride to rise,
I am } an Englishman—behold { me
He is                         him

ALL.
He is an Englishman!
BOAT.
He is an Englishman!
For he himself has said it,
And it's greatly to his credit,
That he is an Englishman!

ALL.
That he is an Englishman!
BOAT.
For he might have been a Roosian,
A French, or Turk, or Proosian,
Or perhaps Itali-an!

ALL.
Or perhaps Itali-an!
BOAT.
But in spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,
He remains an Englishman!

ALL.
For in spite of all temptations, etc.


CAPT.
(trying to repress his anger).

In uttering a reprobation
To any British tar,
I try to speak with moderation,
But you have gone too far.

I'm very sorry to disparage
A humble foremast lad,
But to seek your captain's child in marriage,
Why damme, it's too bad

[During this, COUSIN HEBE and FEMALE RELATIVES have entered.


ALL (shocked).
Oh!
CAPT.
Yes, damme, it's too bad!
ALL.
Oh!
CAPT.
and DICK DEADEYE.
Yes, damme, it s too bad.


[During this, SIR JOSEPH has appeared on poop-deck.
He is
horrified
at the bad language.


HEBE.
Did you hear him? Did you hear him?
Oh, the monster overbearing!
Don't go near him—don't go near him—
He is swearing—he is swearing!
SIR JOSEPH.
My pain and my distress,
I find it is not easy to express;
My amazement—my surprise—
You may learn from the expression of my eyes!
CAPT.
My lord—one word—the facts are not before
you
The word was injudicious, I allow—
But hear my explanation, I implore you,
And you will be indignant too, I vow!
SIR JOSEPH.
I will hear of no defence,
Attempt none if you're sensible.

That word of evil sense
Is wholly indefensible.

Go, ribald, get you hence
To your cabin with celerity.

This is the consequence
Of ill-advised asperity

[Exit CAPTAIN, disgraced, followed by
JOSEPHINE

ALL.
This is the consequence,
Of ill-advised asperity!
SIR JOSEPH.
For I'll teach you all, ere long,
To refrain from language strong
For I haven't any sympathy for ill-bred
taunts!
HEBE.
No more have his sisters, nor his cousins,
nor his
aunts.

ALL.
For he is an Englishman, etc.


SIR JOSEPH.
Now, tell me, my fine fellow—for you are a fine
fellow—
RALPH.
Yes, your honour.

SIR JOSEPH.
How came your captain so far to forget himself? I
am quite
sure you had given him no cause for annoyance.

RALPH, Please your honour, it was thus-wise.
You see I'm only a
topman-
-a mere foremast hand—
SIR JOSEPH.
Don't be ashamed of that.
Your position as a topman
is a
very exalted one.

RALPH.
Well, your honour, love burns as brightly in the
fo'c'sle as it
does on the quarter-deck, and Josephine is the fairest bud that
ever
blossomed upon the tree of a poor fellow's wildest hopes.


Enter JOSEPHINE; she rushes to RALPH'S arms

JOS.
Darling! (SIR JOSEPH horrified)
RALPH.
She is the figurehead of my ship of life—the bright
beacon that
guides me into my port of happiness—that the rarest, the purest
gem that
ever sparkled on a poor but worthy fellow's trusting brow!
ALL.
Very pretty, very pretty!
SIR JOSEPH.
Insolent sailor, you shall repent this outrage.

Seize him!
(Two Marines seize him and handcuff him)
JOS.
Oh, Sir Joseph, spare him, for I love him tenderly.

SIR JOSEPH.
Pray, don't.
I will teach this presumptuous mariner
to
discipline his affections.
Have you such a thing as a dungeon on
board?
ALL.
We have!
DICK.
They have!
SIR JOSEPH.
Then load him with chains and take him there at
once!

OCTETTE

RALPH.
Farewell, my own,
Light of my life, farewell!
For crime unknown
I go to a dungeon cell.


JOS.
I will atone.

In the meantime farewell!
And all alone
Rejoice in your dungeon cell!

SIR JOSEPH.
A bone, a bone
I'll pick with this sailor fell;
Let him be shown at once
At once to his dungeon cell.


BOATSWAIN, DICK DEADEYE, and COUSIN HEBE

He'll hear no tone
Of the maiden he loves so well!
No telephone
Communicates with his cell!

BUT.
(mysteriously).
But when is known
The secret I have to tell,
Wide will be thrown
The door of his dungeon cell.


ALL.
For crime unknown
He goes to a dungeon cell!
[RALPH is led off in
custody.


SIR JOSEPH.
My pain and my distress
Again it is not easy to express.

My amazement, my surprise,
Again you may discover from my eyes.


ALL.
How terrible the aspect of his eyes!

BUT.
Hold! Ere upon your loss
You lay much stress,
A long-concealed crime
I would confess.


SONG—BUTTERCUP

A many years ago,
When I was young and charming,
As some of you may know,
I practised baby-farming.


ALL.
Now this is most alarming!
When she was young and charming,
She practised baby-farming,
A many years ago.


BUT.
Two tender babes I nursed:

One was of low condition,
The other, upper crust,
A regular patrician.


ALL (explaining to each other).

Now, this is the position:

One was of low condition,
The other a patrician,
A many years ago.


BUT.
Oh, bitter is my cup!
However could I do it?
I mixed those children up,
And not a creature knew it!

ALL.
However could you do it?
Some day, no doubt, you'll rue it,
Although no creature knew it,
So many years ago.


BUT.
In time each little waif
Forsook his foster-mother,
The well born babe was Ralph—
Your captain was the other!!!

ALL.
They left their foster-mother,
The one was Ralph, our brother,
Our captain was the other,
A many years ago.


SIR JOSEPH.
Then I am to understand that Captain Corcoran and
Ralph
were exchanged in childhood's happy hour—that Ralph is really
the
Captain, and the Captain is Ralph?
BUT.
That is the idea I intended to convey, officially!
SIR JOSEPH.
And very well you have conveyed it.

BUT.
Aye! aye! yer 'onour.

SIR JOSEPH.
Dear me! Let them appear before me, at once!

[RALPH.
enters as CAPTAIN; CAPTAIN as a common sailor.
JOSEPHINE
rushes
to his arms

JOS.
My father—a common sailor!
CAPT.
It is hard, is it not, my dear?
SIR JOSEPH.
This is a very singular occurrence; I congratulate
you
both.
(To RALPH) Desire that remarkably fine seaman to step
forward.

RALPH.
Corcoran.
Three paces to the front—march!
CAPT.
If what?
RALPH.
If what? I don't think I understand you.

CAPT.
If you please.

SIR JOSEPH.
The gentleman is quite right.
If you please.

RALPH.
Oh! If you please.
(CAPTAIN steps forward)
SIR JOSEPH (to CAPTAIN).
You are an extremely fine fellow.

CAPT.
Yes, your honour.

SIR JOSEPH.
So it seems that you were Ralph, and Ralph was you.

CAPT.
SO it seems, your honour.

SIR JOSEPH.
Well, I need not tell you that after this change in
your
condition, a marriage with your daughter will be out of the
question.

CAPT.
Don't say that, your honour—love levels all ranks.

SIR JOSEPH.
It does to a considerable extent, but it does not
level
them as much as that.
(Handing JOSEPHINE to RALPH) Here — take
her,
sir, and mind you treat her kindly.

RALPH and JOS.
Oh bliss, oh rapture!
CAPT.
and BUT.
Oh rapture, oh bliss!

SIR JOSEPH.
Sad my lot and sorry,
What shall I do? I cannot live alone!
HEBE.
Fear nothing—while I live I'll not desert you.

I'll soothe and comfort your declining days.

SIR JOSEPH.
No, don't do that.

HEBE.
Yes, but indeed I'd rather—
SIR JOSEPH (resigned).
To-morrow morn our vows shall all be
plighted,
Three loving pairs on the same day united!

QUARTETTE

JOSEPHINE, HEBE, RALPH, and DEADEYE

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen,
The clouded sky is now serene,
The god of day—the orb of love,
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all ablaze.


With wooing words and loving song,
We'll chase the lagging hours along,
And if { he finds } the maiden coy,
I find
We'll murmur forth decorous joy,
In dreamy roundelay.


CAPT.
For he's the Captain of the Pinafore.

ALL.
And a right good captain too!
CAPT.
And though before my fall
I was captain of you all,
I'm a member of the crew.

ALL.
Although before his fall, etc.

CAPT.
I shall marry with a wife,
In my humble rank of life! (turning to BUT)
And you, my own, are she—
I must wander to and fro;
But wherever I may go,
I shall never be untrue to thee!
ALL.
What, never?
CAPT.
No, never!
ALL.
What, never!
CAPT.
Hardly ever!
ALL.
Hardly ever be untrue to thee.

Then give three cheers, and one cheer more
For the former Captain of the Pinafore.


BUT.
For he loves Little Buttercup, dear Little
Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why;
But still he loves Buttercup, poor Little
Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup, aye!
ALL.
For he loves, etc.


SIR JOSEPH.
I'm the monarch of the sea,
And when I've married thee (to HEBE),
I'll be true to the devotion that my love
implants,
HEBE.
Then good-bye to his sisters, and his
cousins,
and his aunts,
Especially his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
His sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

ALL.
For he is an Englishman,
And he himself hath said it,
And it's greatly to his credit
That he is an Englishman!

CURTAIN