A simple sailor, lowly born, Unlettered and unknown, Who toils for bread from early mom 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 JOSEPH and CAPTAIN enter SIR JOSEPH. 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 JOSEPH. 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 JOSEPH. 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! TRIO FIRST LORD, CAPTAIN, and JOSEPHINE