H.M.S Pinafore or the Lass That Loved a Sailor
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H.M.S Pinafore or the Lass That Loved a Sailor - William Schwenck Gilbert
II
H.M.S. PINAFORE
OR
THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR
ACT I.
SCENE.—Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore. Sailors, led by Boatswain, discovered cleaning brasswork, splicing rope, &c.
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’ve plenty of time for play.
Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy!
(Enter LITTLE BUTTERCUP, with large basket on her arm.)
RECIT.
Hail, men-o’-wars’ 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.
I’m called Little Buttercup—dear Little Buttercup,
Though I could never tell why,
But still I’m called Buttercup—poor Little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup I!
I’ve snuff and tobaccy, and excellent jacky,
I’ve scissors, and watches, and knives;
I’ve ribbons and laces to set off the faces
Of pretty young sweethearts and wives.
I’ve treacle and toffee, I’ve tea and I’ve coffee,
Soft tommy and succulent chops;
I’ve chickens and conies, and pretty polonies,
And excellent peppermint drops.
Then buy of your Buttercup—dear Little Buttercup,
Sailors should never be shy;
So buy of your Buttercup—poor Little Buttercup,
Come, of your Buttercup buy!
BOAT. Aye, Little Buttercup—and well called—for you’re the rosiest, the roundest, and the reddest beauty in all Spithead.
ALL. Aye! Aye!
BUT. Red, am I? and round—and rosy! May be, for I have dissembled well! But hark ye, my merry friend—hast ever thought that beneath a gay and frivolous exterior there may lurk a canker-worm which is slowly but surely eating its way into one’s very heart?
BOAT. No, my lass, I can’t say I’ve ever thought that.
(Enter DICK DEADEYE. He pushes through sailors, and comes down.)
DICK. I’ve thought it often. (All recoil from him.)
BUT. Yes, you look like it! What’s the matter with the man! Isn’t he well?
BOAT. Don’t take no heed of him, that’s only poor Dick Deadeye.
DICK. I say—it’s a beast of a name, ain’t it—Dick Deadeye.
BUT. It’s not a nice name.
DICK. I’m ugly too, ain’t I?
BUT. You are certainly plain.
DICK. And I’m three-cornered too, ain’t I?
BUT. You are rather triangular.
DICK. Ha! Ha! That’s it. I’m ugly, and they hate me for it; for you all hate me, don’t you?
ALL. We do!
DICK. There!
BOAT. Well, Dick, we wouldn’t go for to hurt any fellow creature’s feelings, but you can’t expect a chap with