A British Tar Lyrics - Singles - Gilbert And Sullivan

Ralph, Boatswain & Carpenter. 

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 nose should pant 

and his lip should curl, 

His cheeks should flame 

and his brow should furl, 

His bosom should heave 

and his heart should glow, 

And his fist be ever ready 

for a knock-down blow. 

Chorus. 

His nose should pant 

and his lip should curl, 

His cheeks should flame 

and his brow should furl, 

His bosom should heave 

and his heart should glow, 

And his fist be ever ready 

for a knock-down blow. 

Ralph, Boatswain & Carpenter. 

His eyes should flash with an inborn fire, 

His brow with scorn be wrung; 

He never should bow down 

to a domineering frown, 

Or the tang of a tyrant tongue. 

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. 

Chorus. 

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, 

His attitude 

His attitude 

His attitude. (pose) 

(All dance off excepting Ralph, who remains, leaning pensively against bulwark.) 

DIALOGUE 

(Enter Jospehine from cabin) 

Josephine. 

It is useless — Sir Joseph's attentions nauseate me. I know 

that he is a truly great and good man, for he told me so 

himself, but to me he seems tedious, fretful, and dictatorial. 

Yet his must be a mind of no common order, or he would not 

dare to teach my dear father to dance a hornpipe on the cabin 

table. (Sees Ralph.) Ralph Rackstraw! (Overcome by emotion.) 

Ralph. 

Aye, lady -- no other than poor Ralph Rackstraw! 

Josephine. 

(aside) How my heart beats! (aloud) And why poor, Ralph? 

Ralph. 

I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady --— rich only in 

never-ending unrest. In me there meet a combination of 

antithetical elements which are at eternal war with one another. 

Driven hither by objective influences — thither by subjective 

emotions — wafted one moment into blazing day, by mocking 

hope — plunged the next into the Cimmerian darkness of tangible 

despair, I am but a living ganglion of irreconcilable antagonisms. I 

hope I make myself clear, lady? 

Josephine. 

Perfectly. (aside) His simple eloquence goes to my heart. Oh, if I 

dared — but no, the thought is madness! (aloud) Dismiss these 

foolish fancies, they torture you but needlessly. Come, make one 

effort. 

Ralph. 

(aside) I will — one. (aloud) Josephine! 

Josephine. (indignantly) 

Sir! 

Ralph. 

Aye, even though Jove's armoury were launched at the head 

of the audacious mortal whose lips, unhallowed by relationship, 

dared to breathe that precious word, yet would I breathe it once, 

and then perchance be silent evermore. Josephine, in one brief 

breath I will concentrate the hopes, the doubts, the anxious fears 

of six weary months. Josephine, I am a British sailor, and I love you! 

Josephine. 

Sir, this audacity! (aside) Oh, my heart, my beating heart! (aloud) This 

unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common sailor 

(aside) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (crossing, aloud) Oh, sir, 

you forget the disparity in our ranks. 

Ralph. 

I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my life is in 

your hand — I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I lack in 

education and polite accomplishments, that I will endeavour to acquire. 

Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for consolation. I 

am proud and cannot stoop to implore. I have spoken and I wait your 

word. 

Josephine. 

You shall not wait long. Your proffered love I haughtily reject. 

Go, sir, and learn to cast your eyes on some village maiden in 

your own poor rank — they should be lowered before your captain's 

daughter.