_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.