Read Ebook: Songs of a Savoyard by Gilbert W S William Schwenck

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 338 lines and 19847 words, and 7 pages

Songs of a Savoyard

by W. S. Gilbert

June, 1997

Scanned and proofed by David Price, ccx074@coventry.ac.uk

Songs of a Savoyard

Contents:

Ballad: The Darned Mounseer

I shipped, d'ye see, in a Revenue sloop, And, off Cape Finisteere, A merchantman we see, A Frenchman, going free, So we made for the bold Mounseer, D'ye see? We made for the bold Mounseer! But she proved to be a Frigate - and she up with her ports, And fires with a thirty-two! It come uncommon near, But we answered with a cheer, Which paralysed the Parley-voo, D'ye see? Which paralysed the Parley-voo!

Then our Captain he up and he says, says he, "That chap we need not fear, - We can take her, if we like, She is sartin for to strike, For she's only a darned Mounseer, D'ye see? She's only a darned Mounseer! But to fight a French fal-lal - it's like hittin' of a gal - It's a lubberly thing for to do; For we, with all our faults, Why, we're sturdy British salts, While she's but a Parley-voo, D'ye see? A miserable Parley-voo!"

So we up with our helm, and we scuds before the breeze, As we gives a compassionating cheer; Froggee answers with a shout As he sees us go about, Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer, D'ye see? Which was grateful of the poor Mounseer! And I'll wager in their joy they kissed each other's cheek , And they blessed their lucky stars We were hardy British tars Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo, D'ye see? Who had pity on a poor Parley-voo!

Ballad: The Englishman

He is an Englishman! For he himself has said it, And it's greatly to his credit, That he is an Englishman! For he might have been a Roosian, A French, or Turk, or Proosian, Or perhaps Itali-an! But in spite of all temptations, To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman! Hurrah! For the true-born Englishman!

Ballad: The Disagreeable Man

If you give me your attention, I will tell you what I am: I'm a genuine philanthropist - all other kinds are sham. Each little fault of temper and each social defect In my erring fellow-creatures, I endeavour to correct. To all their little weaknesses I open people's eyes, And little plans to snub the self-sufficient I devise; I love my fellow-creatures - I do all the good I can - Yet everybody says I'm such a disagreeable man! And I can't think why!

To compliments inflated I've a withering reply, And vanity I always do my best to mortify; A charitable action I can skilfully dissect; And interested motives I'm delighted to detect. I know everybody's income and what everybody earns, And I carefully compare it with the income-tax returns; But to benefit humanity, however much I plan, Yet everybody says I'm such a disagreeable man! And I can't think why!

I'm sure I'm no ascetic; I'm as pleasant as can be; You'll always find me ready with a crushing repartee; I've an irritating chuckle, I've a celebrated sneer, I've an entertaining snigger, I've a fascinating leer; To everybody's prejudice I know a thing or two; I can tell a woman's age in half a minute - and I do - But although I try to make myself as pleasant as I can, Yet everybody says I'm such a disagreeable man! And I can't think why!

Ballad: The Coming By-And-By

Sad is that woman's lot who, year by year, Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear; As Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs, Impatiently begins to "dim her eyes"! - Herself compelled, in life's uncertain gloamings, To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved "combings" - Reduced, with rouge, lipsalve, and pearly grey, To "make up" for lost time, as best she may!

Silvered is the raven hair, Spreading is the parting straight, Mottled the complexion fair, Halting is the youthful gait,

Hollow is the laughter free, Spectacled the limpid eye, Little will be left of me, In the coming by-and-by! Fading is the taper waist - Shapeless grows the shapely limb, And although securely laced, Spreading is the figure trim! Stouter than I used to be, Still more corpulent grow I - There will be too much of me In the coming by-and-by!

Ballad: The Highly Respectable Gondolier

I stole the Prince, and I brought him here, And left him, gaily prattling With a highly respectable Gondolier, Who promised the Royal babe to rear, And teach him the trade of a timoneer With his own beloved bratling.

Both of the babes were strong and stout, And, considering all things, clever. Of that there is no manner of doubt - No probable, possible shadow of doubt - No possible doubt whatever.

Time sped, and when at the end of a year I sought that infant cherished, That highly respectable Gondolier Was lying a corpse on his humble bier - I dropped a Grand Inquisitor's tear - That Gondolier had perished!

A taste for drink, combined with gout, Had doubled him up for ever. Of THAT there is no manner of doubt - No probable, possible shadow of doubt - No possible doubt whatever.

But owing, I'm much disposed to fear, To his terrible taste for tippling, That highly respectable Gondolier Could never declare with a mind sincere Which of the two was his offspring dear, And which the Royal stripling!

Which was which he could never make out, Despite his best endeavour. Of THAT there is no manner of doubt - No probable, possible shadow of doubt - No possible doubt whatever.

The children followed his old career - Of a highly respectable Gondolier: Well, one of the two - But WHICH of the two is not quite clear - Is the Royal Prince you married!

Search in and out and round about And you'll discover never A tale so free from every doubt - All probable, possible shadow of doubt - All possible doubt whatever!

Ballad: The Fairy Queen's Song

Oh, foolish fay, Think you because Man's brave array My bosom thaws I'd disobey Our fairy laws? Because I fly In realms above, In tendency To fall in love Resemble I The amorous dove?

Oh, amorous dove! Type of Ovidius Naso! This heart of mine Is soft as thine, Although I dare not say so!

On fire that glows With heat intense I turn the hose Of Common Sense, And out it goes At small expense! We must maintain Our fairy law; That is the main On which to draw - In that we gain A Captain Shaw.

Oh, Captain Shaw! Type of true love kept under! Could thy Brigade With cold cascade Quench my great love, I wonder!

Ballad: Is Life A Boon

Is life a boon? If so, it must befall That Death, whene'er he call, Must call too soon. Though fourscore years he give Yet one would pray to live Another moon! What kind of plaint have I, Who perish in July? I might have had to die Perchance in June!

Is life a thorn? Then count it not a whit! Man is well done with it; Soon as he's born He should all means essay To put the plague away; And I, war-worn, Poor captured fugitive, My life most gladly give - I might have had to live Another morn!

Ballad: The Modern Major-General

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 our mythic history - KING ARTHUR'S and SIR CARADOC'S, I answer hard acrostics, I've a pretty taste for paradox; I quote in elegiacs 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 "ravelin," When I can tell at sight a Chassepot 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!

Ballad: The Heavy Dragoon

If you want a receipt for that popular mystery, Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon, Take all the remarkable people in history, Rattle them off to a popular tune! The pluck of LORD NELSON on board of the VICTORY - Genius of BISMARCK devising a plan; The humour of FIELDING - Coolness of PAGET about to trepan - The grace of MOZART, that unparalleled musico - Wit of MACAULAY, who wrote of QUEEN ANNE - The pathos of PADDY, as rendered by BOUCICAULT - Style of the BISHOP OF SODOR AND MAN - The dash of a D'ORSAY, divested of quackery - Narrative powers of DICKENS and THACKERAY - VICTOR EMMANUEL - peak-haunting PEVERIL - THOMAS AQUINAS, and DOCTOR SACHEVERELL - TUPPER and TENNYSON - DANIEL DEFOE - ANTHONY TROLLOPE and MISTER GUIZOT! Take of these elements all that is fusible, Melt 'em all down in a pipkin or crucible, Set 'em to simmer and take off the scum, And a Heavy Dragoon is the residuum!

If you want a receipt for this soldierlike paragon, Get at the wealth of the CZAR - The family pride of a Spaniard from Arragon - Force of MEPHISTO pronouncing a ban - A smack of LORD WATERFORD, reckless and rollicky - Swagger of RODERICK, heading his clan - The keen penetration of PADDINGTON POLLAKY - Grace of an Odalisque on a divan - The genius strategic of CAESAR or HANNIBAL - Skill of LORD WOLSELEY in thrashing a cannibal - Flavour of HAMLET - the STRANGER, a touch of him - Little of MANFRED - Beadle of Burlington - RICHARDSON'S show - MR. MICAWBER and MADAME TUSSAUD! Take of these elements all that is fusible - Melt 'em all down in a pipkin or crucible - Set 'em to simmer and take off the scum, And a Heavy Dragoon is the residuum!

Ballad: Proper Pride

The Sun, whose rays Are all ablaze With ever-living glory, Will not deny His majesty - He scorns to tell a story: He won't exclaim, "I blush for shame, So kindly be indulgent," But, fierce and bold, In fiery gold, He glories all effulgent!

I mean to rule the earth, As he the sky - We really know our worth, The Sun and I!

Observe his flame, That placid dame, The Moon's Celestial Highness; There's not a trace Upon her face Of diffidence or shyness: She borrows light That, through the night, Mankind may all acclaim her! And, truth to tell, She lights up well, So I, for one, don't blame her!

Ah, pray make no mistake, We are not shy; We're very wide awake, The Moon and I!

Ballad: The Policeman's Lot

When a felon's not engaged in his employment, Or maturing his felonious little plans, His capacity for innocent enjoyment Is just as great as any honest man's. Our feelings we with difficulty smother When constabulary duty's to be done: Ah, take one consideration with another, A policeman's lot is not a happy one!

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet