The Story of Prince Agib

A Bab Ballad

STRIKE the concertina's melancholy string!

Blow the spirit-stirring harp like anything!

Let the piano's martial blast

Rouse the echoes of the past,

For of AGIB, Prince of Tartary, I sing!

Of AGIB, who, amid Tartaric scenes,

Wrote a lot of ballet-music in his teens:

His gentle spirit rolls

In the melody of souls--

Which is pretty, but I don't know what it means.

Of AGIB, who could readily, at sight,

Strum a march upon the loud Theodolite.

He would diligently play

On the Zoetrope all day,

And blow the gay Pantechnicon all night.

One winter--I am shaky in my dates--

Came two starving Tartar minstrels to his gates;

Oh, Allah be obeyed,

How infernally they played!

I remember that they called themselves the "Ouaits."

Oh! that day of sorrow, misery, and rage,

I shall carry to the Catacombs of Age,

Photographically lined

On the tablet of my mind,

When a yesterday has faded from its page!

Alas! PRINCE AGIB went and asked them in;

Gave them beer, and eggs, and sweets, and scent, and tin;

And when (as snobs would say)

They had "put it all away,"

He requested them to tune up and begin.

Though its icy horror chill you to the core,

I will tell you what I never told before--

The consequences true

Of that awful interview,

For I listened at the keyhole in the door!

They played him a sonata--let me see!

"Medulla oblongata"--key of G.

Then they began to sing

That extremely lovely thing,

"Scherzando! ma non troppo, ppp."

He gave them money, more than they could count,

Scent from a most ingenious little fount,

More beer in little kegs,

Many dozen hard-boiled eggs,

And goodies to a fabulous amount.

Now follows the dim horror of my tale,

And I feel I'm growing gradually pale;

For even at this day,

Though its sting has passed away,

When I venture to remember it, I quail!

The elder of the brothers gave a squeal,

All-overish it made me for to feel.

"O Prince," he says, says he,

"If a Prince indeed you be,

I've a mystery I'm going to reveal!

"Oh, listen, if you'd shun a horrid death,

To what the gent who's speaking to you saith:

No 'Ouaits' in truth are we,

As you fancy that we be,

For (ter-remble!) I am ALECK--this is BETH!"

Said AGIB, "Oh! accursed of your kind,

I have heard that ye are men of evil mind!"

BETH gave a dreadful shriek--

But before he'd time to speak

I was mercilessly collared from behind.

In number ten or twelve, or even more,

They fastened me, full length, upon the floor.

On my face extended flat,

I was walloped with a cat,

For listening at the keyhole of a door.

Oh! the horror of that agonising thrill!

(I can feel the place in frosty weather still.)

For a week from ten to four

I was fastened to the floor,

While a mercenary wopped me with a will!

They branded me and broke me on a wheel,

And they left me in a hospital to heal;

And, upon my solemn word,

I have never, never heard

What those Tartars had determined to reveal.

But that day of sorrow, misery, and rage,

I shall carry to the Catacombs of Age,

Photographically lined

On the tablet of my mind,

When a yesterday has faded from its page!

W.S. Gilbert

Only a Dancing Girl

A Bab Ballad

ONLY a dancing girl,

With an unromantic style,

With borrowed colour and curl

With fixed mechanical smile

With many a hackneyed wile,

With ungrammatical lips,

And corns that mar her trips!

Hung from the "flies" in air,

She acts a palpable lie;

She's as little a fairy there

As unpoetical I!

I hear you asking, Why--

Why in the world I sing

This tawdry, tinselled thing?

No airy fairy she,

As she hangs in arsenic green,

From a highly impossible tree,

In a highly impossible scene

(Herself not over clean).

For fays don't suffer, I'm told,

From bunions, coughs, or cold.

And stately dames that bring

Their daughters there to see,

Pronounce the "dancing thing"

No better than she should be.

With her skirt at her shameful knee,

And her painted, tainted phiz:

Ah, matron, which of us is?

(And, in sooth, it oft occurs

That while these matrons sigh,

Their dresses are lower than hers,

And sometimes half as high;

And their hair is hair they buy.

And they use their glasses, too,

In a way she'd blush to do.)

But change her gold and green

For a coarse merino gown,

And see her upon the scene

Of her home, when coaxing down

Her drunken father's frown,

In his squalid cheerless den:

She's a fairy truly, then!

W.S. Gilbert

Etiquette

A Bab Ballad

THE Ballyshannon foundered off the coast of Cariboo,

And down in fathoms many went the captain and the crew;

Down went the owners--greedy men whom hope of gain allured:

Oh, dry the starting tear, for they were heavily insured.

Besides the captain and the mate, the owners and the crew,

The passengers were also drowned, excepting only two:

Young PETER GRAY, who tasted teas for Baker, Croop, and Co.,

And SOMERS, who from Eastern shores imported indigo.

These passengers, by reason of their clinging to a mast,

Upon a desert island were eventually cast.

They hunted for their meals, as ALEXANDER SELKIRK used,

But they couldn't chat together--they had not been introduced.

For PETER GRAY, and SOMERS too, though certainly in trade,

Were properly particular about the friends they made;

And somehow thus they settled it without a word of mouth--

That GRAY should take the northern half while SOMERS took the south.

On PETER'S portion oysters grew--a delicacy rare,

But oysters were a delicacy PETER couldn't bear.

On SOMERS' side was turtle, on the shingle lying thick,

Which SOMERS couldn't eat, because it always made him sick.

GRAY gnashed his teeth with envy as he saw a mighty store

Of turtle unmolested on his fellow-creature's shore:

The oysters at his feet aside impatiently he shoved,

For turtle and his mother were the only things he loved.

And SOMERS sighed in sorrow as he settled in the south,

For the thought of PETER'S oysters brought the water to his mouth.

He longed to lay him down upon the shelly bed, and stuff:

He had often eaten oysters, but had never had enough.

How they wished an introduction to each other they had had

When on board The Ballyshannon! And it drove them nearly mad

To think how very friendly with each other they might get,

If it wasn't for the arbitrary rule of etiquette!

One day, when out a-hunting for the mus ridiculus,

GRAY overheard his fellow-man soliloquising thus:

"I wonder how the playmates of my youth are getting on,

MCCONNELL, S. B. WALTERS, PADDY BYLES, and ROBINSON?

These simple words made PETER as delighted as could be,

Old chummies at the Charterhouse were ROBINSON and he!

He walked straight up to SOMERS, then he turned extremely red,

Hesitated, hummed and hawed a bit, then cleared his throat, and said:

"I beg your pardon--pray forgive me if I seem too bold,

But you have breathed a name I knew familiarly of old.

You spoke aloud of ROBINSON--I happened to be by--

You know him?" "Yes, extremely well." "Allow me--so do I!"

It was enough: they felt they could more sociably get on,

For (ah, the magic of the fact!) they each knew ROBINSON!

And MR. SOMERS' turtle was at PETER'S service quite,

And MR. SOMERS punished PETER'S oyster-beds all night.

They soon became like brothers from community of wrongs:

They wrote each other little odes and sang each other songs;

They told each other anecdotes disparaging their wives;

On several occasions, too, they saved each other's lives.

They felt quite melancholy when they parted for the night,

And got up in the morning soon as ever it was light;

Each other's pleasant company they reckoned so upon,

And all because it happened that they both knew ROBINSON!

They lived for many years on that inhospitable shore,

And day by day they learned to love each other more and more.

At last, to their astonishment, on getting up one day,

They saw a vessel anchored in the offing of the bay!

To PETER an idea occurred. "Suppose we cross the main?

So good an opportunity may not occur again."

And SOMERS thought a minute, then ejaculated, "Done!

I wonder how my business in the City's getting on?"

"But stay," said MR. PETER: "when in England, as you know,

I earned a living tasting teas for Baker, Croop, and Co.,

I may be superseded--my employers think me dead!"

"Then come with me," said SOMERS, "and taste indigo instead."

But all their plans were scattered in a moment when they found

The vessel was a convict ship from Portland, outward bound!

When a boat came off to fetch them, though they felt it very kind,

To go on board they firmly but respectfully declined.

As both the happy settlers roared with laughter at the joke,

They recognised an unattractive fellow pulling stroke:

'Twas ROBINSON--a convict, in an unbecoming frock!

Condemned to seven years for misappropriating stock!!!

They laughed no more, for SOMERS thought he had been rather rash

In knowing one whose friend had misappropriated cash;

And PETER thought a foolish tack he must have gone upon

In making the acquaintance of a friend of ROBINSON.

At first they didn't quarrel very openly, I've heard;

They nodded when they met, and now and then exchanged a word:

The word grew rare, and rarer still the nodding of the head,

And when they meet each other now, they cut each other dead.

To allocate the island they agreed by word of mouth,

And PETER takes the north again, and SOMERS takes the south;

And PETER has the oysters, which he loathes with horror grim,

And SOMERS has the turtle--turtle disagrees with him.

W.S. Gilbert

Ferdinando and Elvira, or, The Gentle Pieman

A Bab Ballad

Part I

At a pleasant evening party I had taken down to supper

One whom I will call ELVIRA, and we talked of love and TUPPER,

MR. TUPPER and the poets, very lightly with them dealing,

For I've always been distinguished for a strong poetic feeling.

Then we let off paper crackers, each of which contained a motto,

And she listened while I read them, till her mother told her not to.

Then she whispered, "To the ball-room we had better, dear, be walking;

If we stop down here much longer, really people will be talking."

There were noblemen in coronets, and military cousins,

There were captains by the hundred, there were baronets by dozens.

Yet she heeded not their offers, but dismissed them with a blessing;

Then she let down all her back hair which had taken long in dressing.

Then she had convulsive sobbings in her agitated throttle,

Then she wiped her pretty eyes and smelt her pretty smelling-bottle.

So I whispered, "Dear ELVIRA, say--what can the matter be with you?

Does anything you've eaten, darling POPSY, disagree with you?"

But spite of all I said, her sobs grew more and more dis-tressing,

And she tore her pretty back hair, which had taken long in dressing.

Then she gazed upon the carpet, at the ceiling then above me,

And she whispered, "FERNANDO, do you really, really love me?"

"Love you?" said I, then I sighed, and then I gazed upon her sweetly--

For I think I do this sort of thing particularly neatly--

"Send me to the Arctic regions, or illimitable azure,

On a scientific goose-chase, with my COXWELL or my GLAISHER.

"Tell me whither I may hie me, tell me, dear one, that I may know--

Is it up the highest Andes? down a horrible volcano?"

But she said, "It isn't polar bears, or hot volcanic grottoes,

Only find out who it is that writes those lovely cracker mottoes!"

PART II

"Tell me, HENRY WADSWORTH, ALFRED, POET CLOSE, or MISTER TUPPER,

Do you write the bonbon mottoes my ELVIRA pulls at supper? "

But HENRY WADSWORTH smiled, and said he had not had that honour;

And ALFRED, too, disclaimed the words that told so much upon her.

"MISTER MARTIN TUPPER, POET CLOSE, I beg of you inform us";

But my question seemed to throw them both into a rage enormous.

MISTER CLOSE expressed a wish that he could only get anigh to me.

And MISTER MARTIN TUPPER sent the following reply to me:--

"A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men dread a bandit."

Which I think must have been clever, for I didn't understand it.

Seven weary years I wandered--Patagonia, China, Norway,

Till at last I sank exhausted at a pastrycook his doorway.

There were fuchsias and geraniums, and daffodils and myrtle,

So I entered, and I ordered half a basin of mock turtle.

He was plump and he was chubby, he was smooth and he was rosy,

And his little wife was pretty, and particularly cosy.

And he chirped and sang, and skipped about, and laughed with laughter hearty--

He was wonderfully active for so very stout a party.

And I said, "Oh, gentle pieman, who so very, very merry?

Is it purity of conscience, or your one-and-seven sherry?"

But he answered, "I'm so happy--no profession could be dearer--

If I am not humming 'Tra! la! la!' I'm singing, 'Tirer, lirer!'

"First I go and make the patties, and the puddings and the jellies,

Then I make a sugar birdcage, which upon a table swell is;

"Then I polish all the silver, which a supper-table lacquers;

Then I write the pretty mottoes which you find inside the crackers"--

"Found at last!" I madly shouted. "Gentle pieman, you astound me!"

Then I waved the turtle soup enthusiastically round me.

And I shouted and I danced until he'd quite a crowd around him--

And I rushed away, exclaiming," I have found him! I have found him!"

And I heard the gentle pie man in the road behind me trilling,

" 'Tira! lira!' stop him, stop him! 'Tra! la! la!' the soup's a shilling!"

But until I reached ELVIRA'S home, I never, never waited,

And ELVIRA to her FERDINAND'S irrevocably mated!

W.S. Gilbert

The Yarn of the 'Nancy Bell'

A Bab Ballad

'TWAS on the shores that round our coast

From Deal to Ramsgate span,

That I found alone on a piece of stone

An elderly naval man.

His hair was weedy, his beard was long,

And weedy and long was he,

And I heard this wight on the shore recite,

In a singular minor key:

"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,

And the mate of the Nancy brig,

And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,

And the crew of the captain's gig."

And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,

Till I really felt afraid,

For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,

And so I simply said:

"O, elderly man, it's little I know

Of the duties of men of the sea,

But I'll eat my hand if I understand

How you can possibly be

"At once a cook, and a captain bold,

And the mate of the Nancy brig,

And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,

And the crew of the captain's gig."

Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which

Is a trick all seamen larn,

And having got rid of a thumping quid,

He spun this painful yarn:

"'Twas in the good ship Nancy Bell

That we sailed to the Indian sea,

And there on a reef we come to grief,

Which has often occurred to me.

"And pretty nigh all o' the crew was drowned

(There was seventy-seven o' soul),

And only ten of the Nancy's men

Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll.

"There was me and the cook and the captain bold,

And the mate of the Nancy brig

And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,

And the crew of the captain's gig.

"For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink,

Till a-hungry we did feel,

So we drawed a lot, and accordin' shot

The captain for our meal.

"The next lot fell to the Nancy's mate,

And a delicate dish he made;

Then our appetite with the midshipmite

We seven survivors stayed.

"And then we murdered the bo'sun tight,

And he much resembled pig,

Then we wittled free, did the cook and me,

On the crew of the captain's gig.

"Then only the cook and me was left,

And the delicate question, 'Which

Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose

And we argued it out as sich.

"For I Ioved that cook as a brother, I did,

And the cook he worshipped me;

But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed

In the other chap's hold, you see.

"'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom,

'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be,' --

'I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I,

And 'Exactly so,' quoth he.

"Says he, 'Dear James, to murder me

Were a foolish thing to do,

For don't you see that you can't cook me,

While I can -- and will -- cook you!'

"So he boils the water, and takes the salt

And the pepper in portions true

(Which he never forgot) and some chopped shalot,

And some sage and parsley too.

"'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,

Which his smiling features tell,

' 'Twill soothing be if I let you see,

How extremely nice you'll smell.'

"And he stirred it round and round and round,

And he sniffed at the foaming froth;

When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals

In the scum of the boiling broth.

"And I eat that cook in a week or less,

And -- as I eating be

The last of his chops, why, I almost drops,

For a wessel in sight I see!

"And I never grin, and I never smile,

And I never larf nor play,

But I sit and croak, and a single joke

I have -- which is to say:

"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,

And the mate of the Nancy brig,

And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,

And the crew of the captain's gig!"

W.S. Gilbert

Captain's Song

Capt.	I am the Captain of the Pinafore;
All.	And a right good captain, too!
Capt.	You're very, very good,         And be it understood,     I command a right good crew,
All.	We're very, very good,         And be it understood,     He commands a right good crew.
Capt.	Though related to a peer,     I can hand, reef, and steer,          And ship a selvagee;     I am never known to quail     At the fury of a gale,          And I'm never, never sick at sea!
All.	What, never?
Capt.	No, never!
All.	What, never?
Capt.	Hardly ever!
All.	He's hardly ever sick at sea! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore!
Capt.	I do my best to satisfy you all--
All.	And with you we're quite content.
Capt.	You're exceedingly polite,         And I think it only right     To return the compliment.
All.	We're exceedingly polite,         And he thinks it's only right     To return the compliment.
Capt.	Bad language or abuse,          I never, never use,     Whatever the emergency;          Though "Bother it" I may          Occasionally say,     I never use a big, big D--
All.	What, never?
Capt.	No, never!
All.	What, never?
Capt.	Hardly ever!
All.	Hardly ever swears a big, big D-- Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, For the well-bred Captain of the Pinafore!

W.S. Gilbert

Sir Joseph's Song

from H.M.S. Pinafore

When I was a lad I served a term

As office boy to an Attorney's firm.

I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,

And I polished up the handle of the big front door.

I polished up that handle so carefullee

That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

As office boy I made such a mark

That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.

I served the writs with a smile so bland,

And I copied all the letters in a big round hand--

I copied all the letters in a hand so free,

That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

In serving writs I made such a name

That an articled clerk I soon became;

I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit

For the pass examination at the Institute,

And that pass examination did so well for me,

That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip

That they took me into the partnership.

And that junior partnership, I ween,

Was the only ship that I ever had seen.

But that kind of ship so suited me,

That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

I grew so rich that I was sent

By a pocket borough into Parliament.

I always voted at my party's call,

And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.

I thought so little, they rewarded me

By making me the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

Now landsmen all, whoever you may be,

If you want to rise to the top of the tree,

If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,

Be careful to be guided by this golden rule--

Stick close to your desks and never go to sea,

And you all may be rulers of the Queen's Navee!

W.S. Gilbert

The Major General

from Pirates of Penzance

I am the very pattern of a modern Major-Gineral,

I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral;

I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical,

From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;

I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,

I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical;

About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,

With interesting facts about the square of the hypotenuse.

I'm very good at integral and differential calculus,

I know the scientific names of beings animalculous.

In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,

I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral.

I know out mythic history -- KING ARTHUR'S and SIR CARADOC'S,

I answer hard acrostics, I've a pretty taste for paradox;

I quote in elegaics all the crimes of HELIOGABALUS,

In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous.

I tell undoubted RAPHAELS from GERARD DOWS and ZOFFANIES,

I know the croaking chorus from the 'Frogs' of ARISTOPHANES;

Then I can hum a fugue, of which I've heard the music's din afore,

And whistle all the airs from that confounded nonsense 'Pinafore.'

Then I can write a washing-bill in Babylonic cuneiform,

And tell you every detail of CARACTACUS'S uniform.

In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,

I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral.

In fact, when I know what is meant by 'mamelon' and 'revelin,'

When I can tell at sight a Cassepôt rifle from a javelin,

When such affairs as sorties and surprises I'm more wary at,

And when I know precisely what is meant by Commissariat,

When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern gunnery,

When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery,

In short, when I've a smattering of elementary strategy,

You'll say a better Major-General has never sat a gee --

For my military knowledge, though I'm plucky and adventury,

Has only been brought down to the beginning of the century.

But still in learning vegetable, animal, and mineral,

I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral.

W.S. Gilbert