_Sir M._ Dr. Daly, give me joy. Alexis, my dear boy, you will, I am

sure, be pleased to hear that my declining days are not unlikely to be

solaced by the companionship of this good, virtuous, and amiable woman.

_Alex._ (_rather taken aback_). My dear father, this is not altogether

what I expected. I am certainly taken somewhat by surprise. Still it

can hardly be necessary to assure you that any wife of yours is a

mother of mine. (_Aside to ALINE._) It is not quite what I could have

wished.

_Mrs. P._ (_crossing to ALEXIS_). Oh, sir, I entreat your forgiveness.

I am aware that socially I am not everything that could be desired, nor

am I blessed with an abundance of worldly goods, but I can at least

confer on your estimable father the great and priceless dowry of a

true, tender, and loving heart.

_Alex._ (_coldly_). I do not question it. After all, a faithful love is

the true source of every earthly joy.

_Sir M._ I knew that my boy would not blame his poor father for acting

on the impulse of a heart that has never yet misled him. Zorah is not,

perhaps, what the world call beautiful----

_Dr. D._ Still she is comely--distinctly comely! (_Sighs._)

_Ali._ Zorah is very good, and very clean and honest, and quite sober

in her habits; and that is worth far more than beauty, dear Sir

Marmaduke.

_Dr. D._ Yes; beauty will fade and perish, but personal cleanliness

is practically undying, for it can be renewed whenever it discovers

symptoms of decay. My dear Sir Marmaduke, I heartily congratulate you.

(_Sighs._)

QUINTETTE.

ALEXIS, ALINE, SIR MARMADUKE, ZORAH, AND DR. DALY.

_Alex._ I rejoice that it’s decided.

Happy now will be his life,

For my father is provided

With a true and tender wife!

_Ensemble._ She will tend him, nurse him, mend him,

Air his linen, dry his tears.

Bless the thoughtful fates that send him

Such a wife to soothe his years!

_Ali._ No young giddy thoughtless maiden,

Full of graces, airs, and jeers--

But a sober widow, laden

With the weight of fifty years!

_Sir M._ No high-born exacting beauty,

Blazing like a jewelled sun--

But a wife who’ll do her duty,

As that duty should be done!

_Mrs. P._ I’m no saucy minx and giddy--

Hussies such as they abound--

But a clean and tidy widdy,

Well be-known for miles around!

_Dr. D._ All the village now have mated,

All are happy as can be--

I to live alone am fated:

No one’s left to marry me!

_Ensemble._ She will tend him, etc.

[_Exeunt SIR MARMADUKE and MRS. PARTLET, ALINE and ALEXIS. DR.

DALY looks after them sentimentally, then exit with a sigh. MR.

WELLS, who has overheard part of this Quintette, and who has

remained concealed behind the market cross, comes down as they

go off._

RECITATIVE.--MR. WELLS.

Oh, I have wrought much evil with my spells!

An ill I can’t undo!

This is too bad of you, J. W. Wells--

What wrong have they done you?

And see--another love-lorn lady comes--

Alas, poor stricken dame!

A gentle pensiveness her life benumbs--

And mine, alone, the blame!

(_Sits at foot of market cross._)

_LADY SANGAZURE enters. She is very melancholy._

_Lady S._ Alas! ah me! and well-a-day!

I sigh for love, and well I may,

For I am very old and gray.

But stay!

(_Sees MR. WELLS, and becomes fascinated by him._)

RECITATIVE.

_Lady S._ What is this fairy form I see before me?

_Mr. W._ Oh, horrible!--she’s going to adore me!

This last catastrophe is overpowering!

_Lady S._ Why do you glare at me with visage lowering?

For pity’s sake, recoil not thus from me!

_Mr. W._ My lady, leave me--this may never be!

DUET.--LADY SANGAZURE AND MR. WELLS.

_Mr. W._ Hate me! I drop my H’s--have through life!

_Lady S._ Love me! I’ll drop them too!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! I always eat peas with a knife!

_Lady S._ Love me! I’ll eat like you!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! I spend the day at Rosherville!

_Lady S._ Love me! that joy I’ll share!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! I often roll down One Tree Hill!

_Lady S._ Love me! I’ll join you there!

_Lady S._ Love me! my prejudices I will drop!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! that’s not enough!

_Lady S._ Love me! I’ll come and help you in the shop!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! the life is rough!

_Lady S._ Love me! my grammar I will all forswear!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! abjure my lot!

_Lady S._ Love me! I’ll stick sunflowers in my hair!

_Mr. W._ Hate me! they’ll suit you not!

RECITATIVE.--MR. WELLS.

At what I am going to say be not enraged--

I may not love you--for I am engaged!

_Lady S._ (_horrified_). Engaged!

_Mr. W._ Engaged!

To a maiden fair,

With bright brown hair,

And a sweet and simple smile,

Who waits for me

By the sounding sea,

On a South Pacific isle.

(_Aside._) A lie! No maiden waits me there!

_Lady S._ (_mournfully_). She has bright brown hair;

_Mr. W._ (_aside_). A lie! No maiden smiles on me!

_Lady S._ (_mournfully_). By the sounding sea!

ENSEMBLE.

LADY SANGAZURE. MR. WELLS.

Oh, agony, rage, despair! Oh, agony, rage, despair!

The maiden has bright brown Oh, where will this end--oh,

hair, where?

And mine is as white as snow! I should like very much to

know!

False man, it will be your fault It will certainly be my fault

If I go to my family vault, If she goes to her family vault,

And bury my life-long woe! To bury her life-long woe!

_Both._ The family vault--the family vault.

{your}

It will certainly be {my} fault,

{ I go } {my}

If {she goes} to {her} family vault,

{my}

To bury {her} life-long woe!

[_Exit LADY SANGAZURE, in great anguish._

RECITATIVE.--MR. WELLS.

Oh, hideous doom--to scatter desolation,

And sow the seeds of sorrow far and wide!

To foster _mésalliances_ through the nation,

And drive high-born old dames to suicide!

Shall I subject myself to reprobation

By leaving her in solitude to pine?

No! come what may, I’ll make her reparation,

So, aged lady, take me!--I am thine!

[_Exit MR. WELLS._

_Enter ALINE._

_Ali._ This was to have been the happiest day of my life--but I am very

far from happy! Alexis insists that I shall taste the philtre--and when

I try to persuade him that to do so would be an insult to my pure and

lasting love, he tells me that I object because I do not desire that my

love for him shall be eternal. Well (_sighing and producing a phial_),

I can at least prove to him that in that he is unjust!

RECITATIVE.

Alexis! Doubt me not, my loved one! See,

Thine uttered will is sovereign law to me!

All fear--all thought of ill I cast away!

It is my darling’s will, and I obey! (_She drinks the philtre._)

The fearful deed is done,

My love is near!

I go to meet my own

In trembling fear!

If o’er us aught of ill

Should cast a shade.

It was my darling’s will,

And I obeyed!

[_As ALINE is going off, she meets DR. DALY, entering pensively.

He is playing on a flageolet. Under the influence of the spell

she at once becomes strangely fascinated by him, and exhibits

every symptom of being hopelessly in love with him._

SONG.--DR. DALY.

Oh, my voice is sad and low,

And with timid step I go--

For with load of love o’erladen

I enquire of every maiden,

“Will you wed me, little lady?

Will you share my cottage shady?”

Little lady answers, “No!

Thank you for your kindly proffer--

Good your heart, and full your coffer;

Yet I must decline your offer--

I’m engaged to So-and-so!”

So-and-so!

So-and-so! (_flageolet_).

She’s engaged to So-and-so!

What a rogue young hearts to pillage!

What a worker on Love’s tillage!

Every maiden in the village

Is engaged to So-and-so!

So-and-so!

So-and-so! (_flageolet_).

All engaged to So-and-so!

[_At the end of the song DR. DALY sees ALINE, and, under the

influence of the potion, falls in love with her._

ENSEMBLE.--ALINE AND DR. DALY.

Oh, joyous boon! oh, mad delight!

Oh, sun and moon! oh, day and night!

Rejoice, rejoice with me!

Proclaim our joy, ye birds above--

Ye brooklets, murmur forth our love,

In choral ecstasy:

_Ali._ Oh, joyous boon!

_Dr. D._ Oh, mad delight!

_Ali._ Oh, sun and moon!

_Dr. D._ Oh, day and night!

_Both._ Ye birds and brooks and fruitful trees,

With choral joy delight the breeze--

Rejoice, rejoice with me!

_Enter ALEXIS._

RECITATIVE.

_Alex._ (_with rapture_).

Aline, my only love, my happiness!

The philtre--you have tasted it?

_Ali._ (_with confusion_). Yes! Yes!

_Alex._ Oh, joy, mine, mine for ever and for aye. [_Embraces her._

_Ali._ Alexis, don’t do that--you must not!

[_Dr. Daly interposes between them._

_Alex._ (_amazed_.) Why?

DUET.--ALINE AND DR. DALY.

_Ali._ Alas! that lovers thus should meet:

Oh, pity, pity me!

Oh, charge me not with cold deceit;

Oh, pity, pity me!

You bade me drink--with trembling awe

I drank, and, by the potion’s law,

I loved the very first I saw!

Oh, pity, pity me!

_Dr. D._ My dear young friend, consolèd be--

We pity, pity you.

In this I’m not an agent free--

We pity, pity you.

Some most extraordinary spell

O’er us has cast its magic fell--

The consequence I need not tell.

We pity, pity you.

ENSEMBLE.

Some most extraordinary spell

{us}

O’er {them} has cast its magic fell--

{we}

The consequence {they} need not tell.

{We} {thee!

{They} pity, pity {me!

_Alex._ (_furiously_). False one, begone--I spurn thee!

To thy new lover turn thee!

Thy perfidy all men shall know.

_Ali._ (_wildly_). I could not help it!

_Alex._ (_calling off_). Come one, come all!

_Dr. D._ We could not help it!

_Alex._ (_calling off_). Obey my call!

_Ali._ (_wildly_). I could not help it!

_Alex._ (_calling off_). Come, hither, run!

_Dr. D._ We could not help it!

_Alex._ (_calling off_). Come, every one!

_Enter all the characters except LADY SANGAZURE and MR. WELLS._

CHORUS.

Oh, what is the matter, and what is the clatter?

He’s glowering at her, and threatens a blow!

Oh, why does he batter the girl he did flatter?

And why does the latter recoil from him so?

RECITATIVE.--ALEXIS.

Prepare for sad surprises--

My love Aline despises!

No thought of sorrow shames her--

Another lover claims her!

Be his, false girl, for better or for worse--

But, ere you leave me, may a lover’s curse----

_Dr. D._ (_coming forward_). Hold! Be just. This poor child drank

the philtre at your instance. She hurried off to meet you--but, most

unhappily, she met me instead. As you had administered the potion to

both of us, the result was inevitable. But fear nothing from me--I will

be no man’s rival. I shall quit the country at once--and bury my sorrow

in the congenial gloom of a colonial bishopric.

_Alex._ My excellent old friend! (_Taking his hand--then turning to MR.

WELLS, who has entered with LADY SANGAZURE._) Oh, Mr. Wells, what, what

is to be done?

_Mr. W._ I do not know--and yet--there is one means by which this spell

may be removed.

_Alex._ Name it--oh, name it!

_Mr. W._ Or you or I must yield up his life to Ahrimanes. I would

rather it were you. I should have no hesitation in sacrificing my own

life to spare yours, but we take stock next week, and it would not be

fair on the Co.

_Alex._ True. Well, I am ready!

_Ali._ No, no--Alexis--it must not be! Mr. Wells, if he must die that

all may be restored to their old loves, what is to become of me? I

should be left out in the cold, with no love to be restored to!

_Mr. W._ True--I did not think of that. (_To the others._) My friends,

I appeal to you, and I will leave the decision in your hands.

FINALE.

_Mr. W._ Or I or he

Must die!

Which shall it be?

Reply!

_Sir M._ Die thou!

Thou art the cause of all offending!

_Lady S._ Die thou!

Yield thou to this decree unbending!

_All._ Die thou!

_Mr. W._ So be it! I submit! My fate is sealed.

To popular opinion thus I yield! (_Falls._)

Be happy all--leave me to my despair--

I go--it matters not with whom--or where! (_Gong._)

[_All quit their present partners, and rejoin their old lovers.

SIR MARMADUKE leaves MRS. PARTLET, and goes to LADY SANGAZURE.

ALINE leaves DR. DALY, and goes to ALEXIS. DR. DALY leaves

ALINE, and goes to CONSTANCE. NOTARY leaves CONSTANCE, and goes

to MRS. PARTLET. All the _Chorus_ make a corresponding change._

ALL.

_Gentlemen._ Oh, my adored one!

_Ladies._ Unmingled joy!

_Gentlemen._ Ecstatic rapture!

_Ladies._ Beloved boy! (_They embrace._)

_Sir M._ Come to my mansion, all of you! At least

We’ll crown our rapture with another feast.

ENSEMBLE.

SIR MARMADUKE, LADY SANGAZURE, ALEXIS, AND ALINE.

Now to the banquet we press;

Now for the eggs and the ham,

Now for the mustard and cress,

Now for the strawberry jam!

_Chorus._ Now to the banquet, etc.

DR. DALY, CONSTANCE, NOTARY, AND MRS. PARTLET.

Now for the tea of our host,

Now for the rollicking bun,

Now for the muffin and toast,

Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

_Chorus._ Now for the tea, etc.

(_General Dance._)

H.M.S. PINAFORE;

OR,

THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR.

_AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL NAUTICAL COMIC OPERA_, IN TWO ACTS.

_First produced at the Opera Comique Theatre, by MR. R. D’OYLY CARTE,

on Saturday, May 25, 1878._

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

THE RT. HON. SIR JOSEPH PORTER, K.C.B., _First Lord of the Admiralty_.

CAPTAIN CORCORAN, _Commanding H.M.S. Pinafore_.

RALPH RACKSTRAW, _Able Seaman_.

DICK DEADEYE, _Able Seaman_.

BILL BOBSTAY, _Boatswain’s Mate_.

BOB BECKET, _Carpenter’s Mate_.

TOM TUCKER, _Midshipmite_.

SERGEANT OF MARINES.

JOSEPHINE, _the Captain’s Daughter_.

HEBE, _Sir Joseph’s First Cousin_.

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.

H.M.S. PINAFORE;

OR,

THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR.

ACT I.

SCENE.--_Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore. View of Portsmouth in

distance. _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 pay--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 and excellent 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._ Ay, 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 cankerworm 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_._

_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?

_Boat._ (_crossing_). 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._ (_crossing_).

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

Loved the pale 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 trouble 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!

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 concealing,

Has dared for her to pine

At whose exalted shrine

A world of wealth is kneeling.

_All._ A world of wealth is kneeling!

Unlearnèd 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!

[_Exit LITTLE BUTTERCUP._

_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?

_Dick._ No, no, captains’ daughters don’t marry foremast hands.

_All_ (_recoiling from him_). Shame! shame!

_Boat._ (_crossing_). 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 maintruck or his slacks on the maindeck.

_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._ (_who has gone on poop-deck, returns_). My lads, our gallant

captain has come on deck; let us greet him as so brave an officer and

so gallant a seaman deserves.

RECITATIVE.

_Capt._ My gallant crew, good morning.

_All_ (_saluting_). Sir, good morning!

_Capt._ I hope you’re all well.

_All_ (_as before_). Quite well; and you, sir?

_Capt._ I am reasonable in 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, too!

_Capt._ 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 fury 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 sea!

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!

_Enter JOSEPHINE on poop. She comes down, 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!

_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--too 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 female relatives 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._

BARCAROLLE (_without._)

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

attentively to the song._

CHORUS OF SAILORS.

We sail the ocean blue,

And our saucy ship’s a beauty;

We’re 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.

_Sail._ Flags and guns and pennants dipping

All the ladies love the shipping.

_Rel._ Sailors sprightly

Always rightly

Welcome ladies so politely.

_Sail._ Ladies who can smile so brightly,

Sailors welcome most politely.

_Enter SIR JOSEPH with COUSIN HEBE._

_Capt._ (_from poop_).

Now give three cheers, I’ll lead the way.

_All._ Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurray! (_Repeat._)

SONG.--SIR JOSEPH.

I am the monarch of the sea,

The Ruler of the Queen’s Navee,

Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants.

_Cousin H._ And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

_Rel._ And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

_Sir J._ When at anchor here I ride,

My bosom swells with pride,

And I snap my fingers at a foeman’s taunts.

_Cousin H._ And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

_All._ And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

_Sir J._ But when the breezes blow,

I generally go below,

And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants!

_Cousin H._ 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 J._ You’ve a remarkably fine crew, Captain Corcoran.

_Capt._ It _is_ a fine crew, Sir Joseph.

_Sir J._ (_examining a very small midshipman_). A British sailor is a

splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran.

_Capt._ A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph.

_Sir J._ I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain Corcoran.

_Capt._ Indeed, I hope so, Sir Joseph.

_Sir J._ Never forget that they are the bulwarks of England’s

greatness, Captain Corcoran.

_Capt._ So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph.

_Sir J._ What percentage of words are spelled phonetically? No

bullying, I trust--no strong language of any kind, eh?

_Capt._ Oh, never, Sir Joseph.

_Sir J._ What, _never_?

_Capt._ Hardly ever, Sir Joseph. They are an excellent crew, and do

their work thoroughly without it.

_Sir J._ (_reproving_). Don’t patronize them, sir--pray, don’t

patronize them.

_Capt._ Certainly not, Sir Joseph.

_Sir J._ That you are their captain is an accident of birth. I cannot

permit these noble fellows to be patronized 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 J._ You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran. Desire that

splendid seaman to step forward.

_Capt._ Ralph Rackstraw, come here.

_Sir J._ (_sternly_). If what?

_Capt._ I beg your pardon----

_Sir J._ If you _please_.

_Capt._ Oh yes, of course. If you _please_. [_RALPH steps forward._

_Sir J._ You’re a remarkably fine fellow.

_Ralph._ Yes, your honour.

_Sir J._ 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 J._ Not at all. Proper self-respect, nothing more. Can you dance a

hornpipe?

_Ralph._ No, your honour.

_Sir J._ 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._ Hear!

_Sir J._ Good. I like to hear you speak well of your commanding

officer; I dare say he don’t deserve it, but still it does you credit.

Can you sing?

_Ralph._ I can hum a little, your honour.

_Sir J._ 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._ Ay, ay, Sir Joseph. Boatswain, in commemoration of this joyous

occupation, see that extra grog is served out to the ship’s company at

one bell.

_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 J._ The gentleman is quite right. If you _please_.

_Capt._ (_stamping his foot impatiently_). If you _please_!

_Sir J._ For I hold that on the seas

The expression, “If you please,”

A particularly gentlemanly tone implants.

_Cousin H._ And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

_All._ And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

[_Exeunt CAPTAIN and SIR JOSEPH into cabin._

_Boat._ Ah! Sir Joseph’s a 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_ (_coming forward_). 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._ Hurrah!

_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._ Ay, ay.

_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 strike attitude and then dance off to hornpipe down

hatchway, 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, 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._ Ay, lady--no other than poor Ralph Rackstraw!

_Jos._ (_aside_). How my head 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._ Ay, 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 heart!

(_Aloud._) This unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common

sailor! (_Aside._) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (_Aloud._) Oh,

sir, you forget the disparity in our ranks.

_Ralph._ I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my

life is in thy 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!

Proud lords to seek my hand

In throngs assemble,

The loftiest in the land

Bow down and tremble!

(_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._

RECITATIVE.--RALPH.

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._ Ay, ay, 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 love, 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.

_Sail. and Rel._

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! (_Goes off._)

_Ralph_ (_drawing a pistol_).

My friends, my leave of life I’m taking,

For oh, for oh, my heart is breaking.

When I am gone, oh, prithee tell

The maid that, as I died, I loved her well!

(_Loading it._)

_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 he has loaded pistol._)

_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._

_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 a-blaze.

With wooing words and loving song,

We’ll chase the lagging hours along.

{I find}

And if {we find} the maiden coy,

I’ll}

We’ll} murmur forth decorous joy

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 a-blaze.

Our captain, ere the day is gone,

Will be extremely down upon

The wicked men who art employ

To make his Josephine his coy

In many various ways.

_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 us 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!

Let’s give three cheers for the sailor’s bride

Who casts all thought of rank aside--

Who gives up house 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._)

ACT II.

_Same Scene. Night. Moonlight._

_CAPTAIN discovered singing on poop-deck, and accompanying himself

on a mandolin. LITTLE BUTTERCUP seated on quarter-deck, near gun,

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!

(_Sighing._) Who is poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his

glance to fall on one so lowly! And yet if he knew----

[_CAPTAIN has come down from poop-deck._

_Capt._ 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 deeply touched 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._ (_change of manner_). 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. There is a change in store for you!

_Capt._ A change!

_But._ Ay--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 peacocks’ 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,

But 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.

_Both._ 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.

_But._ 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.

_Capt._ 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.

{ I }

Though a mystic tone {you} borrow,

I shall}

You will} learn truth with sorrow,

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 J._ 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 J._ 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 J._ She naturally would be.

_Capt._ But perhaps your exalted rank dazzles her.

_Sir J._ 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 J._ 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 J._ 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. SIR JOSEPH retires up and watches her._

SCENA.--JOSEPHINE.

The hours creep on apace,

My guilty heart is quaking!

Oh that I might retract

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 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 morn

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 J._ (_coming forward_). 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 J._ 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 J._ 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!

_CAPTAIN has entered; during this speech he comes forward._

TRIO.--SIR JOSEPH, 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 Sir J._

Ring the merry bells on board ship,

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._ (_aside_).

For a gallant captain’s daughter----

_Sir J._ 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 J._ Never mind the why and wherefore,

Love can level ranks, and therefore,

Though your nautical relation (_alluding to CAPTAIN_)

In my set could scarcely pass--

Though you occupy a station

In the lower middle class----

_Capt. and Sir J._

Ring the merry bells on board ship,

Rend the air with warbling wild,

{his}

For the union of {my} lordship

With a humble captain’s child?

_Sir J._ For a humble captain’s daughter----

_Jos._ (_aside_).

For a gallant captain’s daughter----

_Capt._ And a lord who rules the water----

_Jos._ (_aside_).

And a _tar_ who ploughs the water!

_All._ Let the air with joy be laden,

Fill 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 its jurisdiction;

Ably have you played your part;

You have carried firm conviction

To my hesitating heart.

_Capt. and Sir J._

Ring the merry bells on board ship,

Rend the air with warbling wild,

For the union of {his} lordship

{my}

With a humble captain’s child!

_Capt. and Sir J._

For a humble captain’s daughter----

_Jos._ (_aside_).

For a gallant captain’s daughter----

_Capt. and Sir J._

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 J._

Ring the merry bells on board ship----

_Jos._ For the union of a maiden----

_Capt. and Sir J._

For the union with his lordship.

_All._ Rend with songs the air above

For the man who owns her love!

[_Exit JOSEPHINE._

_Capt._ Sir Joseph, I cannot express to you my delight at the happy

result of your eloquence. Your argument was unanswerable.

_Sir J._ Captain Corcoran, it is one of the happiest characteristics of

this glorious country that official utterances are invariably regarded

as unanswerable. [_Exit SIR JOSEPH into cabin._

_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 night 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! (_Envelopes 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. The CAPTAIN, shrouded in his

boat-cloak, watches them unnoticed._

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!

(_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} {my}

Has} dared to raise {his} wormy eyes

Above the dust to which you’d mould {me!

{him!

In manhood’s glorious pride to rise.

I am} {me!

He is} an Englishman--behold {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._ Hurrah!

For the true-born Englishman!

_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!

_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 J._ (_with impressive dignity_).

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 known before you;

The word was injudicious, I allow--

But hear my explanation, I implore you,

And you will be indignant, too, I vow!

_Sir J._ 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._ Behold the consequence

Of ill-advised asperity!

_Sir J._ 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 J._ Now, tell me, my fine fellow--for you _are_ a fine fellow----

_Ralph._ Yes, your honour.

_Sir J._ 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 J._ 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. SIR JOSEPH horrified._

She’s the figurehead of my ship of life--the bright beacon that guides

me into my port of happiness--the rarest, the purest gem that ever

sparkled on a poor but worthy fellow’s trusting brow.

_All._ Very pretty.

_Sir J._ 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 J._ Away with him. I will teach this presumptuous mariner to

discipline his affections. Have you such a thing as a dungeon on board?

_All._ We have!

_Sir J._ 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.

_All._ For crime, etc.

_Jos._ In the mean time, farewell!

And all alone

Rejoice in your dungeon cell!

_All._ And all, etc.

_Sir J._ A bone, a bone

I’ll pick with this sailor fell;

Let him be shown

At once to his dungeon cell.

_All._ Let him, etc.

_Boat._} He’ll hear no tone

_Dick._} Of the maiden he loves so well!

_Hebe._} No telephone

Communicates with his cell!

_All._ No telephone, etc.

_But._ (_mysteriously_).

But when is known

The secret I have to tell,

Wide will be thrown

The door of his dungeon cell.

_All._ Wide will be thrown

The door of his dungeon cell!

[_All repeat respective verses, ensemble. At the end RALPH is led

off in custody._

_Sir J._ Josephine, I cannot tell you the distress I feel at this most

painful revelation. I desire to express to you, officially, that I am

hurt. You, whom I honoured by seeking in marriage--you, the daughter of

a captain in the Royal Navy!

_But._ Hold! _I_ have something to say to that?

_Sir J._ You?

_But._ Yes, I!

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 nussed:

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 J._ 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?

_Sir J._ You have done it very well. 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 J._ This is a very singular occurrence; I congratulate you both.

(_To RALPH._) Desire that remarkably fine seaman to step forward.

_Ralph._ Corcoran, come here.

_Capt._ If what? If you _please_.

_Sir J._ Perfectly right. If you _please_.

_Ralph._ Oh. If you _please_. [_CAPTAIN steps forward._

_Sir J._ (_to CAPTAIN_). You are an extremely fine fellow.

_Capt._ Yes, your honour.

_Sir J._ So it seems that you were Ralph, and Ralph was you.

_Capt._ So it seems, your honour.

_Sir J._ 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 J._ 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!

_Sir J._ Sad my lot, and sorry,

What shall I do? I cannot live alone!

_All._ What will he do? he cannot live alone!

_Hebe._ Fear nothing--while I live I’ll not desert you.

I’ll soothe and comfort your declining days.

_Sir J._ No, don’t do that.

_Hebe._ Yes, but indeed I’d rather.

_Sir J._ (_resigned_).

To-morrow morn our vows shall all be plighted,

Three loving pairs on the same day united!

DUET.--RALPH AND JOSEPHINE.

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;

{he finds}

And if {I find } the maiden coy,

We’ll murmur forth decorous joy,

In dreamy roundelays.

_Capt._ For he is 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 own rank of life! (_Turning to BUTTERCUP._)

And you, my love, 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 faithful seamen of the Pinafore.

_But._ For he loves Little Buttercup, dear Little Buttercup,

I’m sure I shall never know why;

But still he loves Buttercup, poor Little Buttercup,

Sweet Little Buttercup, ay!

_All._ For he loves, etc.

_Sir J._ 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!

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE;

OR,

THE SLAVE OF DUTY.

_AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL COMIC OPERA_, IN TWO ACTS.

_First produced at the Opera Comique Theatre, by MR. R. D’OYLY CARTE,

on Saturday, 3rd April, 1880._

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MAJOR-GENERAL STANLEY MR. GEORGE GROSSMITH.

THE PIRATE KING MR. RICHARD TEMPLE.

SAMUEL, _his Lieutenant_ MR. GEORGE TEMPLE.

FREDERIC, _the Pirate Apprentice_ MR. GEORGE POWER.

SERGEANT OF POLICE MR. RUTLAND BARRINGTON.

MABEL, _General Stanley’s Daughter_ MISS MARION HOOD.

EDITH MISS JESSIE BOND.

KATE MISS JULIA GWYNNE.

ISABEL MISS M. BARLOW.

RUTH, _a Pirate Maid of all Work_ MISS ALICE BARNETT.

_Chorus of Pirates, Police, and General Stanley’s Daughters._

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE;

OR,

THE SLAVE OF DUTY.

ACT I.

SCENE.--_A rocky sea-shore on the coast of Cornwall. Under the rock

is a cavern. In the distance is a calm sea, on which a schooner

is lying at anchor. As the curtain rises groups of _Pirates_ are

discovered--some drinking, some playing cards. SAMUEL, the pirate

lieutenant, is going from one group to the other, filling the cups

from a flask. FREDERIC is seated in a despondent attitude at the

back of the scene. RUTH kneels at his feet._

OPENING CHORUS.

_All._ Pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry;

Fill, oh, fill the pirate glass;

And, to make us more than merry,

Let the pirate bumper pass.

_Solo._} For to-day our pirate ’prentice

_Sam._ } Rises from indenture freed;

Strong his arm and keen his scent is,

He’s a pirate now indeed!

_All._ Here’s good luck to Frederic’s ventures!

Frederic’s out of his indentures.

_Solo._} Two and twenty now he’s rising,

_Sam._ } And alone he’s fit to fly,

Which we’re bent on signalizing

With unusual revelry.

_All._ Here’s good luck to Frederic’s ventures!

Frederic’s out of his indentures,

So pour, oh, pour the pirate sherry, etc.

[_FREDERIC rises and comes forward with PIRATE KING._

_King._ Yes, Frederic, from to-day you rank as a full-blown member of

our band.

_All._ Hurrah!

_Fred._ My friends, I thank you all, from my heart, for your kindly

wishes. Would that I could repay them as they deserve!

_King._ What do you mean?

_Fred._ To-day I am out of my indentures, and to-day I leave you for

ever.

_King._ But this is quite unaccountable; a keener hand at scuttling a

Cunarder or cutting out a White Star never shipped a handspike.

_Fred._ Yes, I have done my best for you. And why? It was my duty under

my indentures, and I am the slave of duty. As a child I was regularly

apprenticed to your band. It was through an error--no matter, the

mistake was ours, not yours, and I was in honour bound by it.

_Sam._ An error? What error?

_Fred._ I may not tell you; it would reflect upon my well-loved Ruth.

[_RUTH comes down to FREDERIC._

_Ruth._ Nay, dear master, my mind has long been gnawed by the cankering

tooth of mystery. Better have it out at once.

SONG.--RUTH.

When Frederic was a little lad he proved so brave and daring,

His father thought he’d ’prentice him to some career seafaring.

I was, alas, his nursery-maid, and so it fell to _my_ lot

To take and bind the promising boy apprentice to a _pilot_--

A life not bad for a hardy lad, though certainly not a high lot.

Though I’m a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a pilot.

I was a stupid nursery-maid, on breakers always steering,

And I did not catch the word aright, through being hard of hearing;

Mistaking my instructions, which within my brain did gyrate,

I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to a _pirate_.

A sad mistake it was to make and doom him to a vile lot.

I bound him to a pirate--you--instead of to a pilot.

I soon found out, beyond all doubt, the scope of this disaster,

But I hadn’t the face to return to my place, and break it to my

master.

A nursery-maid is never afraid of what you people _call_ work,

So I made up my mind to go as a kind of piratical maid of all work;

And that is how you find me now a member of your shy lot,

Which you wouldn’t have found, had he been bound apprentice to a

pilot.

(_Kneeling at his feet._) Oh, pardon! Frederic, pardon!

_Fred._ Rise, sweet one; I have long pardoned you.

_Ruth_ (_rises_). The two words were so much alike.

_Fred._ They were. They still are, though years have rolled over their

heads. (_RUTH goes up with SAMUEL._) But this afternoon my obligation

ceases. Individually I love you all with affection unspeakable, but

collectively, I look upon you with a disgust that amounts to absolute

detestation. Oh! pity me, my beloved friend, for such is my sense of

duty, that once out of my indentures I shall feel myself bound to

devote myself heart and soul to your extermination!

_All._ Poor lad! poor lad! (_All weep._)

_King._ Well, Frederic, if you conscientiously feel that it is your

duty to destroy us, we cannot blame you for acting on that conviction.

Always act in accordance with the dictates of your conscience, my boy,

and chance the consequences.

_Sam._ Besides, we can offer you but little temptation to remain with

us. We don’t seem to make piracy pay. I’m sure I don’t know why, but we

don’t.

_Fred._ _I_ know why, but, alas! I mustn’t tell you; it wouldn’t be

right.

_King._ Why not, my boy? It’s only half-past eleven, and you are one of

us until the clock strikes twelve.

_Sam._ True, and until then you are bound to protect our interests.

_All._ Hear, hear!

_Fred._ Well, then, it is my duty, as a pirate, to tell you that

you are too tender-hearted. For instance, you make a point of never

attacking a weaker party than yourselves, and when you attack a

stronger party, you invariably get thrashed.

_King._ There is some truth in that.

_Fred._ Then, again, you make a point of never molesting an orphan!

_Sam._ Of course: we are orphans ourselves, and know what it is.

_Fred._ Yes, but it has got about, and what is the consequence? Every

one we capture says he’s an orphan. The last three ships we took proved

to be manned entirely by orphans, and so we had to let them go. One

would think that Great Britain’s mercantile navy was recruited solely

from her orphan asylums--which we know is not the case.

_Sam._ But, hang it all, you wouldn’t have us absolutely merciless?

_Fred._ There’s my difficulty; until twelve o’clock I would, after

twelve I wouldn’t. Was ever a man placed in so delicate a situation!

_Ruth._ And Ruth, your own Ruth, whom you love so well, and who has won

her middle-aged way into your boyish heart, what is to become of _her_?

_King._ Oh, he will take you with him.

_Fred._ Well, Ruth, I feel some little difficulty about you. It is true

that I admire you very much, but I have been constantly at sea since

I was eight years old, and yours is the only woman’s face I have seen

during that time. I think it is a sweet face!

_Ruth._ It is, oh, it is!

_Fred._ I say I _think_ it is; that is my impression. But as I have

never had an opportunity of comparing you with other women, it is just

possible I may be mistaken.

_King._ True.

_Fred._ What a terrible thing it would be if I were to marry this

innocent person, and then find out that she is, on the whole, plain!

_King._ Oh, Ruth is very well, very well indeed.

_Sam._ Yes, there are the remains of a fine woman about Ruth.

_Fred._ Do you really think so? Then I will not be so selfish as to

take her from you. In justice to her, and in consideration for you, I

will leave her behind. (_Hands RUTH to KING._)

_King._ No, Frederic, this must not be. We are rough men, who lead a

rough life, but we are not so utterly heartless as to deprive thee of

thy love. I think I am right in saying that there is not one here who

would rob thee of this inestimable treasure for all the world holds

dear.

_All_ (_loudly_). Not one!

_King._ No, I thought there wasn’t. Keep thy love, Frederic, keep thy

love. (_Hands her back to FREDERIC._)

_Fred._ You’re very good, I’m sure.

_King._ Well, it’s the top of the tide, and we must be off. Farewell,

Frederic. When your process of extermination begins, let our deaths be

as swift and painless as you can conveniently make them.

_Fred._ I will! By the love I have for you, I swear it! Would that you

could render this extermination unnecessary by accompanying me back to

civilization!

_King._ No, Frederic, it cannot be. I don’t think much of our

profession, but, contrasted with respectability, it is comparatively

honest. No, Frederic, I shall live and die a pirate king.

SONG.--PIRATE KING.

Oh, better far to live and die

Under the brave black flag I fly,

Than play a sanctimonious part,

With a pirate head and a pirate heart.

Away to the cheating world go you,

Where pirates all are well to do;

But I’ll be true to the song I sing,

And live and die a pirate king.

For I am a pirate king.

_All._ You are!

Hurrah for our pirate king!

_King._ And it is, it is a glorious thing

To be a pirate king.

_All._ Hurrah! (_Cheering action by _Pirates_._)

Hurrah for our pirate king!

_King._ When I sally forth to seek my prey

I help myself in a royal way:

I sink a few more ships, it’s true,

Than a well-bred monarch ought to do;

But many a king on a first-class throne,

If he wants to call his crown his own,

Must manage somehow to get through

More dirty work than ever _I_ do,

Though I am a pirate king.

_All._ You are!

Hurrah for our pirate king!

_King._ And it is, it is a glorious thing

To be a pirate king!

_All._ It is!

Hurrah for our pirate king!

[_After song, the KING, SAMUEL, and all the _Pirates_, excepting

FREDERIC and RUTH, go off; FREDERIC comes, followed by RUTH._

_Ruth._ Oh, take me with you! I cannot live if I am left behind.

_Fred._ Ruth, I will be quite candid with you: you are very dear to me,

as you know, but I must be circumspect. You see, you are considerably

older than I. A lad of twenty-one usually looks for a wife of seventeen.

_Ruth._ A wife of seventeen! You will find me a wife of a thousand!

_Fred._ No, but I shall find you a wife of forty-seven, and that is

quite enough. Ruth, tell me candidly, and without reserve--compared

with other women, how are _you_?

_Ruth._ I will answer you truthfully, master; I have a slight cold, but

otherwise I am quite well.

_Fred._ I am sorry for your cold, but I was referring rather to your

personal appearance. Compared with other women--are you beautiful?

_Ruth_ (_bashfully_). I have been told so, dear master.

_Fred._ Ah, but lately?

_Ruth._ Oh no, years and years ago.

_Fred._ What do you think of yourself?

_Ruth._ It is a delicate question to answer, but I think I am a fine

woman.

_Fred._ That is your candid opinion?

_Ruth._ Yes, I should be deceiving you if I told you otherwise.

_Fred._ Thank you, Ruth; I believe you, for I am sure you would not

practise on my inexperience. I wish to do the right thing, and if--I

say if--you are really a fine woman, your age shall be no obstacle

to our union. (_Shakes hands with her. Chorus of _Girls_ heard in

the distance, “Climbing over rocky mountain” etc. See entrance of

_Girls_._) Hark! Surely I hear voices! Who has ventured to approach

our all but inaccessible lair? Can it be Custom House? No, it does not

sound like Custom House.

_Ruth_ (_aside_). Confusion! it is the voices of young girls! If he

should see them I am lost.

_Fred._ (_climbing rocky arch and looking off_). By all that’s

marvellous, a bevy of beautiful maidens!

_Ruth_ (_aside_). Lost! lost! lost!

_Fred._ How lovely! how surpassingly lovely is the plainest of them!

What grace! what delicacy! what refinement! And Ruth--Ruth told me she

was beautiful!

RECITATIVE.

_Fred._ Oh, false one, you have deceived me.

_Ruth._ I have deceived you?

_Fred._ Yes, deceived me. (_Denouncing her._)

DUET.--FREDERIC AND RUTH.

_Fred._ You told me you were fair as gold!

_Ruth_ (_wildly_). And, master, am I not so?

_Fred._ And now I see you’re plain and old.

_Ruth._ I am sure I am not a jot so.

_Fred._ Upon my ignorance you play.

_Ruth._ I’m not the one to plot so.

_Fred._ Your face is lined, your hair is grey.

_Ruth._ It’s gradually got so.

_Fred._ Faithless woman to deceive me,

I who trusted so!

_Ruth._ Master, master, do not leave me.

Hear me, ere you go.

My love, without reflecting,

Oh, do not be rejecting.

Take a maiden tender--her affection, raw and green,

At very highest rating,

Has been accumulating

Summers seventeen--summers seventeen.

Don’t, belovèd master,

Crush me with disaster.

What is such a dower to the dower I have here?

_My_ love, unabating,

Has been accumulating

Forty-seven year--forty-seven year!

ENSEMBLE.

RUTH. FREDERIC.

Don’t, beloved master, Yes, your former master

Crush me with disaster. Saves you from disaster.

What is such a dower to the dower Your love would be uncomfortably

I have here, etc. fervid, it is clear,

If, as you are stating,

It’s been accumulating

Forty-seven year--forty-seven

year.

[_At the end he renounces her, and she goes off in despair_.

RECITATIVE--FREDERIC.

What shall I do? Before these gentle maidens,

I dare not show in this detested costume.

No, better far remain in close concealment

Until I can appear in decent clothing.

[_Hides in cave as they enter, climbing over the rocks and

through arched rock._

_Girls._ Climbing over rocky mountain,

Skipping rivulet and fountain;

Passing where the willows quiver

By the ever-rolling river,

Swollen with the summer rain;

Threading long and leafy mazes

Dotted with unnumbered daisies;

Scaling rough and rugged passes,

Climb the hardy little lasses,

Till the bright sea-shore they gain.

_Edith._ Let us gaily tread the measure,

Make the most of fleeting leisure;

Hail it as a true ally

Though it perish by-and-by.

_All._ Hail it as a true ally

Though it perish by-and-by.

_Edith._ Every moment brings a treasure

Of its own especial pleasure.

Though the moments quickly die,

Greet them gaily as they fly.

_Kate._ Far away from toil and care,

Revelling in fresh sea air,

Here we live and reign alone

In a world that’s all our own.

Here in this our rocky den,

Far away from mortal men,

We’ll be queens, and make decrees;

They may honour them who please.

_All._ Let us gaily tread the measure, etc.

_Kate._ What a picturesque spot! I wonder where we are!

_Edith._ And I wonder where papa is. We have left him ever so far

behind.

_Isa._ Oh, he will be here presently! Remember, poor papa is not as

young as we are, and we have come over a rather difficult country.

_Kate._ But how thoroughly delightful it is to be so entirely alone!

Why, in all probability we are the first human beings who ever set foot

on this enchanting spot.

_Isa._ Except the mermaids--it’s the very place for mermaids.

_Kate._ Who are only human beings down to the waist!

_Edith._ And who can’t be said strictly to set _foot_ anywhere. Tails

they may, but feet they _cannot_.

_Kate._ But what shall we do until papa and the servants arrive with

the luncheon? [_All rise and come down._

_Edith._ We are quite alone, and the sea is as smooth as glass. Suppose

we take off our shoes and stockings and paddle.

_All._ Yes, yes. The very thing!

[_They prepare to carry out the suggestion. They have all taken off

one shoe, when FREDERIC comes forward from cave._

RECITATIVE.

_Fred._ Stop, ladies, pray!

_All (hopping on one foot)._ A man!

_Fred._ I had intended

Not to intrude myself upon your notice

In this effective but alarming costume,

But under these peculiar circumstances

It is my bounden duty to inform you

That your proceedings will not be unwitnessed.

_Edith._ But who are you, sir? Speak! (_All hopping._)

_Fred._ I am a pirate.

_All_ (_recoiling hopping_).

A pirate! Horror!

_Fred._ Ladies, do not shudder!

This evening I renounce my vile profession;

And to that end, oh, pure and peerless maidens!

Oh, blushing buds of ever-blooming beauty!

I, sore of heart, implore your kind assistance.

_Edith._ How pitiful his tale!

_Kate._ How rare his beauty!

_All._ How pitiful his tale! How rare his beauty!

[_Put on their shoes, and group in semicircle._

SONG.--FREDERIC.

Oh! is there not one maiden breast

Which does not feel the moral beauty

Of making worldly interest

Subordinate to sense of duty?

Who would not give up willingly

All matrimonial ambition,

To rescue such a one as I

From his unfortunate position?

_All._ Alas! there’s not one maiden breast

Which seems to feel the moral beauty

Of making worldly interest

Subordinate to sense of duty.

_Fred._ Oh, is there not one maiden here,

Whose homely face and bad complexion

Have caused all hopes to disappear

Of ever winning man’s affection?

To such a one, if such there be,

I swear by heaven’s arch above you,

If you will cast your eyes on me--

However plain you be--I’ll love you!

_All._ Alas! there’s not one maiden here,

Whose homely face and bad complexion

Have caused all hope to disappear

Of ever winning man’s affection.

_Fred._ (_in despair_).

Not one!

_All._ No, no--not one!

_Fred._ Not one?

_All._ No, no!

_MABEL enters through arch._

_Mab._ Yes, one!

_All._ ’Tis Mabel!

_Mab._ Yes, ’tis Mabel!

RECITATIVE.--MABEL.

Oh, sisters, deaf to pity’s name,

For shame!

It’s true that he has gone astray,

But pray,

Is that a reason good and true

Why you

Should all be deaf to pity’s name?

For shame!

_All_ (_aside_).

The question is, had he not been a thing of beauty,

Would she be swayed by quite as keen a sense of duty?

SONG.--MABEL.

Poor wandering one,

Though thou hast surely strayed,

Take heart of grace,

Thy steps retrace,

Be not afraid.

Poor wandering one,

If such poor love as mine

Can help thee find

True peace of mind--

Why, take it, it is thine!

Take heart, fair days will shine.

Take any heart--take mine.

_All._ Take heart; no danger lowers.

Take any heart--but ours.

[_MABEL and FREDERIC exit into cave and converse. KATE beckons

her sisters, who form in a semicircle around her._

EDITH.

What ought we to do,

Gentle sisters, pray?

Propriety, we know,

Says we ought to stay;

While sympathy exclaims,

“Free them from your tether--

Play at other games--

Leave them here together.”

KATE.

Her case may, any day,

Be yours, my dear, or mine.

Let her make her hay

While the sun doth shine.

Let us compromise

(Our hearts are not of leather);

Let us shut our eyes,

And talk about the weather.

_Ladies._ Yes, yes; let’s talk about the weather.

[_EDITH, KATE, and _Girls_ retire and sit two and two, facing

each other, in a line across._

_MABEL and FREDERIC enter from cave._

CHATTERING CHORUS.

How beautifully blue the sky,

The glass is rising very high,

Continue fine I hope it may,

And yet it rained but yesterday;

To-morrow it may pour again

(I hear the country wants some rain);

Yet people say, I know not why,

That we shall have a warm July.

[_During MABEL’S solo the _Girls_ continue chatter pianissimo,

but listening eagerly all the time._

SOLO--MABEL.

Did ever maiden wake

From dream of homely duty,

To find her daylight break

With such exceeding beauty?

Did ever maiden close

Her eyes on waking sadness,

To dream of goodness knows

How much exceeding gladness?

_Fred._ Oh yes--ah, yes; this is exceeding gladness.

[_FREDERIC and MABEL turn and see that the _Girls_ are listening;

detected, they continue their chatter forte._

_Girls._ How beautifully blue the sky, etc.

SOLO--FREDERIC.

[_During this, _Girls_ continue their chatter pianissimo as

before, but listening intently all the time._

Did ever pirate roll

His soul in guilty dreaming,

And wake to find that soul

With peace and virtue beaming?

Did ever pirate loathed

Forsake his hideous mission,

To find himself betrothed

To lady of position?

_Mab._ Ah, yes--ah, yes; I am a lady of position.

[_MABEL and FREDERIC turn as before; _Girls_ resume their chatter

forte._

ENSEMBLE.

MABEL. FRED. GIRLS.

Did ever maiden wake, Did ever pirate How beautifully blue

loathed,

etc. etc. the sky, etc.

RECITATIVE.--FRED.

Stay, we must not lose our senses;

Men who stick at no offences

Will anon be here.

Piracy their dreadful trade is;

Pray you, get you hence, young ladies,

While the coast is clear.

_Girls._ No, we must not lose our senses

If they stick at no offences.

Piracy their dreadful trade is--

Nice associates for young ladies!

Let us disappear.

[_During this chorus the _Pirates_ have entered stealthily, and

formed in a semicircle behind the _Girls_. As the _Girls_ move

to go off, each Pirate seizes a girl. KING seizes EDITH, SAMUEL

seizes KATE._

_All._ Too late!

_Pirates._ Ha! Ha!

_All._ Too late!

_Pir._ Ha! Ha!

Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! ha!

ENSEMBLE.

(Pirates _pass in (Ladies _pass in

front of_ Ladies.) front of_ Pirates.)

PIRATES. LADIES.

Here’s a first-rate opportunity We have missed our opportunity

To get married with impunity, Of escaping with impunity;

And indulge in the felicity So farewell to the felicity

Of unbounded domesticity. Of our maiden domesticity.

You shall quickly be parsonified, We shall quickly be parsonified,

Conjugally matrimonified Conjugally matrimonified

By a doctor of divinity, By a doctor of divinity,

Who is located in this vicinity. Who is located in this vicinity.

RECITATIVE.--MABEL (_coming forward_).

How, monsters! Ere your pirate caravanserai

Proceed, against our will, to wed us all,

Just bear in mind that we are wards in Chancery,

And father is a major-general!

_Sam._ (_cowed_).

We’d better pause, or danger may befall;

Their father is a major-general.

_Ladies._ Yes, yes; he is a major-general.

_The MAJOR-GENERAL has entered unnoticed on rock._

_Gen._ Yes, I am a major-general.

_All._ You are!

Hurrah for the Major-General!

_Gen._ And it is a glorious thing

To be a major-general.

_All._ It is!

Hurrah for the Major-General!

SONG.--MAJOR-GENERAL.

I am the very pattern of a modern major-gineral,

I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral;

I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights

historical

From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;

I’m very well acquainted too with matters mathematical;

I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical;

About binomial theorem I’m teeming with a lot o’ news--

(_Bothered for next rhyme._)

--Lot o’ news--lot o’ news--(_struck with an idea_)

With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.

(_Joyously._) With many cheerful facts about the square of

the hypotenuse.

_All._ With many cheerful facts, etc.

_Gen._ I’m very good at integral and differential calculus;

I know the scientific names of beings animalculous.

In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,

I am the very model of a modern major-gineral.

_All._ In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,

He is the very model of a modern major-gineral.

_Gen._ I know our mythic history, King Arthur’s and Sir Caradoc’s,

I answer hard acrostics, I’ve a pretty taste for paradox,

I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of Heliogabalus,

In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous.

I can tell undoubted Raphaels from Gerard Dows and

Zoffanies;

I know the croaking chorus from the “Frogs” of Aristophanes.

Then I can hum a fugue, of which I’ve heard the music’s din

afore,

(_Bothered for next rhyme._)

--Din afore, din afore, din afore--(_struck with an idea_)

And whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense

“Pinafore.”

(_Joyously._) And whistle all the airs, etc.

_All._ And whistle all the airs, etc.

_Gen._ Then I can write a washing bill in Babylonic cuneiform,

And tell you every detail of Caractacus’s uniform.

In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,

I am the very pattern of a modern major-gineral.

_All._ In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,

He is the very pattern of a modern major-gineral.

_Gen._ In fact, when I know what is meant by mamelon and ravelin,

When I can tell at sight a chassepôt ride from a javelin,

When such affairs as sorties and surprises I’m more wary at,

And when I know precisely what is meant by commissariat,

When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern

gunnery,

When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery;

In short, when I’ve a smattering of elemental strategy,

(_Bothered for next rhyme._)

--Strategy, strategy--(_struck with an idea_)

You’ll say a better major-gener_al_ has never _sat_ a gee--

(_Joyously._) You’ll say a better major-gener_al_ has never

_sat_ a gee!

_All._ You’ll say a better, etc.

_Gen._ For my military knowledge, though I’m plucky and adventury,

Has only been brought down to the beginning of the century,

But still in learning vegetable, animal, and mineral, etc.

_All._ But still in learning vegetable, animal, and mineral,

He is the very model of a modern major-gineral.

_Gen._ And now that I’ve introduced myself I should like to have some

idea of what’s going on.

_Kate._ Oh, papa--we----

_Sam._ Permit me, I’ll explain in two words: we propose to marry your

daughters.

_Gen._ Dear me!

_Girls._ Against our wills, papa--against our wills!

_Gen._ Oh, but you mustn’t do that. May I ask--this is a picturesque

costume, but I’m not familiar with it--what are you?

_King._ We are all single gentlemen.

_Gen._ Yes, I gathered that--anything else?

_King._ No, nothing else.

_Edith._ Papa, don’t believe them, they are pirates--the famous Pirates

of Penzance!

_Gen._ The Pirates of Penzance? I have often heard of them.

_Mab._ All except this gentleman--(_indicating_ FREDERICK)--who was a

pirate once, but who is out of his indentures to-day, and who means to

lead a blameless life evermore.

_Gen._ But wait a bit. I object to pirates as sons-in-law.

_King._ We object to major-generals as fathers-in-law. But we waive

that point. We do not press it. We look over it.

_Gen._ (_aside_). Hah! an idea! (_Aloud._) And do you mean to say that

you would deliberately rob me of these the sole remaining props of my

old age, and leave me to go through the remainder of life unfriended,

unprotected, and alone?

_King._ Well, yes, that’s the idea.

_Gen._ Tell me, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan?

_Pirates_ (_disgusted_). Oh, dash it all!

_King._ Here we are again!

_Gen._ I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan?

_King._ Often!

_Gen._ Yes, orphan. Have you ever known what it is to be one?

_King._ I say, often.

_All_ (_disgusted_). Often, often, often. (_Turning away._)

_Gen._ I don’t think we quite understand one another. I ask you, have

you ever known what it is to be an orphan, and you say “orphan.” As I

understand you, you are merely repeating the word “orphan” to show that

you understand me.

_King._ I didn’t repeat the word often.

_Gen._ Pardon me, you did indeed.

_King._ I only repeated it once.

_Gen._ True, but you repeated it.

_King._ But not often.

_Gen._ Stop, I think I see where we are getting confused. When you said

“orphan,” did you mean “orphan”--a person who has lost his parents; or

often--frequently?

_King._ Ah, I beg pardon, I see what you mean--frequently.

_Gen._ Ah, you said often--frequently.

_King._ No, only once.

_Gen._ (_irritated_). Exactly, you said often, frequently, only once.

FINALE.

RECITATIVE.--GENERAL.

Oh, men of dark and dismal fate,

Forego your cruel employ;

Have pity on my lonely state,

I am an orphan boy.

_King._ An orphan boy?

_Gen._ An orphan boy!

_Pirates._ How sad--an orphan boy!

SOLO.--GENERAL.

These children whom you see

Are all that I can call my own!

_Pir._ Poor fellow!

_Gen._ Take them away from me

And I shall be indeed alone.

_Pir._ Poor fellow!

_Gen._ If pity you can feel,

Leave me my sole remaining joy.

See, at your feet they kneel;

Your hearts you cannot steel

Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy!

_Pir._ (_sobbing_). Poor fellow!

See, at our feet they kneel;

Our hearts we cannot steel

Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy.

_King._ The orphan boy!

_Sam._ The orphan boy!

_All._ The lonely orphan boy! Poor fellow!

[_GENERAL comes down. _Principals_ come down. _Ladies_ rise._

ENSEMBLE.

GENERAL. GIRLS (_aside_). PIRATES (_aside_).

I’m telling a He’s telling a If he’s telling a

terrible story, terrible story, terrible story

But it doesn’t Which will tend to He shall die by a

diminish my glory; diminish his glory. death that is gory,

For they would have Though they would have One of the cruellest

taken my daughters taken his daughters slaughters

Over the billowy Over the billowy That ever were known

waters, waters, in these waters;

If I hadn’t, in It’s easy, in And we’ll finish his

elegant diction. elegant diction, moral affliction

Indulged in an To call it an innocent By a very complete

innocent fiction; fiction; malediction,

Which is not in the But it comes in the As a compliment

same category same category valedictory,

As a regular As a regular If he’s telling a

terrible story. terrible story. terrible story.

KING.

Although our dark career

Sometimes involves the crime of stealing,

We rather think that we’re

Not altogether void of feeling.

Although we live by strife,

We’re always sorry to begin it,

And what, we ask, is life

Without a touch of Poetry in it?

ALL (_kneeling_).

Hail, Poetry, thou heaven-born maid,

Thou gildest e’en the pirate’s trade!

Hail, flowing fount of sentiment!

All hail, Divine Emollient! (_All rise._)

KING.

You may go, for you’re at liberty, our pirate rules protect you,

And honorary members of our band we do elect you.

_Sam._ For he is an orphan boy.

_Chorus._ He is an orphan boy.

_Gen._ And it sometimes is a useful thing

To be an orphan boy.

_Chorus._ It is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!

_Quartette._ Oh, happy day, with joyous glee

We will away and merry be!

Should it befall auspiciouslee,

My sisters all will bridesmaids be.

_Chorus._ Oh, happy day, with joyous glee

They will away, and merry be;

Should it befall auspiciouslee,

Our sisters all will bridesmaids be!

_RUTH enters, and comes down to FREDERIC, and kneels._

_Ruth._ Oh, master, hear one word, I do implore you!

Remember Ruth, your Ruth, who kneels before you!

[__Pirates_ come in front of _Ladies_._

_Chorus._ Yes, yes, remember Ruth who kneels before you.

_Fred._ (Pirates _threaten RUTH_).

Away, you did deceive me!

_Chorus._ Away, you did deceive him!

_Ruth._ Oh, do not leave me!

_Chorus._ Oh, do not leave her!

_Fred._ Away, you grieve me!

_Chorus._ Away, you grieve her!

_Fred._ I wish you’d leave me.

[_FREDERIC casts RUTH from him. Exit RUTH._

ENSEMBLE.

Pray observe the magnanimity

We }

They} display to lace and dimity;

Never was such opportunity

To get married with impunity,

{ we }

But {they} give up the felicity

Of unbounded domesticity,

Though a doctor of divinity

Is located in this vicinity.

_King._ For we are all orphan boys!

_All._ We are,

Hurrah for the orphan boys!

_Gen._ And it sometimes is a useful thing

To be an orphan boy.

_All._ It is.

Hurrah for the orphan boy!

[__Girls_ and GENERAL go up rocks, while _Pirates_ indulge in a

wild dance of delight. The GENERAL produces a British flag, and

the PIRATE KING, on arched rock, produces a black flag with

skull and cross-bones. Picture._

ACT II.

SCENE.--_A ruined chapel by moonlight. Aisles divided by pillars and

arches; ruined Gothic windows at back. GENERAL STANLEY discovered

seated pensively, surrounded by his daughters._

CHORUS.

Oh, dry the glistening tear

That dews that martial cheek;

Thy loving children hear,

In them thy comfort seek.

With sympathetic care

Their arms around thee creep,

For oh, they cannot bear

To see their father weep.

_Enter MABEL._

SOLO.--MABEL.

Dear father, why leave your bed

At this untimely hour,

When happy daylight is dead,

And darksome dangers lower?

See, heaven has lit her lamp,

The midnight hour is past,

The chilly night air is damp,

And the dews are falling fast!

Dear father, why leave your bed

When happy daylight is dead?

_FREDERIC enters down aisle._

_Mab._ Oh, Frederic, cannot you reconcile it with your conscience to

say something that will relieve my father’s sorrow?

_Fred._ I will try, dear Mabel. But why does he sit, night after night,

in this draughty old ruin?

_Gen._ Why do I sit here? To escape from the pirates’ clutches, I

described myself as an orphan, and I am no orphan! I come here to

humble myself before the tombs of my ancestors, and to implore their

pardon for having brought dishonour on the family escutcheon.

_Fred._ But you forget, sir, you only bought the property a year ago,

and the stucco in your baronial hall is scarcely dry.

_Gen._ Frederic, in this chapel are ancestors; you cannot deny that.

With the estate, I bought the chapel and its contents. I don’t know

whose ancestors they _were_, but I know whose ancestors they _are_,

and I shudder to think that their descendant by purchase (if I may so

describe myself) should have brought disgrace upon what, I have no

doubt, was an unstained escutcheon.

_Fred._ Be comforted. Had you not acted as you did, these reckless men

would assuredly have called in the nearest clergyman, and have married

your large family on the spot.

_Gen._ I thank you for your proffered solace, but it is unavailing. At

what time does your expedition march against these scoundrels?

_Fred._ At eleven; and before midnight I hope to have atoned for my

involuntary association with the pestilent scourges by sweeping them

from the face of the earth. And then, my Mabel, you will be mine!

_Gen._ Are your devoted followers at hand?

_Fred._ They are; they only wait my orders.

RECITATIVE.--GENERAL.

Then, Frederic, let your escort lion-hearted

Be summoned to receive a general’s blessing,

Ere they depart upon their dread adventure.