In sailing o'er life's ocean wide Your heart should be your only guide; With summer sea and favouring wind, Yourself in port you'll surely find. SOLO—RICHARD. My heart says, "To this maiden strike— She's captured you. She's just the sort of girl you like— You know you do. If other man her heart should gain, I shall resign." That's what it says to me quite plain, This heart of mine. SOLO—ROBIN. My heart says, "You've a prosperous lot, With acres wide; You mean to settle all you've got Upon your bride." It don't pretend to shape my acts By word or sign; It merely states these simple facts, This heart of mine! SOLO—ROSE. Ten minutes since my heart said "white"— It now says "black". It then said "left"—it now says "right"— Hearts often tack. I must obey its latest strain— You tell me so. (To Richard.) But should it change its mind again, I'll let you know. (Turning from Richard to Robin, who embraces her.) ENSEMBLE. In sailing o'er life's ocean wide No doubt the heart should be your guide; But it is awkward when you find A heart that does not know its mind! (Exeunt Robin with Rose L., and Richard, weeping, R.) (Enter Mad Margaret. She is wildly dressed in picturesque tatters, and is an obvious caricature of theatrical madness.) SCENA—MARGARET. Cheerily carols the lark Over the cot. Merrily whistles the clerk Scratching a blot. But the lark And the clerk, I remark, Comfort me not! Over the ripening peach Buzzes the bee. Splash on the billowy beach Tumbles the sea. But the peach And the beach They are each Nothing to me! And why? Who am I? Daft Madge! Crazy Meg! Mad Margaret! Poor Peg! He! he! he! he! (chuckling).