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.