c SONGS OF A SAVOYARD "I'LL NEVER THROW DUST IN A JURYMAN'S EYES," SAID I TO MYSELF SAID I. lolanthe. Front. BY W. S. GILBERT. ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR. " Sleep on, ye pale civilians, All thunder-clouds defy, On Europe's countless millions The Sentry keeps his eye. ' lolantlie LONDON: GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LIMITED BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK TO SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN, IN JUST ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE DISTINCTION HIS GENIUS HAS CONFERRED UPON THESE SONGS DURING THE FOURTEEN YEARS THAT WE HAVE WORKED TOGETHER. W. S. GILBERT. 3rd Sept. , 1890. CONTENTS. SONG THE DARNED MOUNSEER - THE ENGLISHMAN - THE DISAGREEABLE MAN - THE COMING BYE AND BYE THE HIGHLY RESPECTABLE GONDOLIER THE FAIRY QUEEN'S SONG Is LIFE A BOON? - - THE MODERN MAJOR-GENERAL THE HEAVY DRAGOON PROPER PRIDE THE POLICEMAN'S LOT THE BAFFLED GRUMBLER - THE HOUSE OF PEERS ... A MERRY MADRIGAL - THE DUKE AND THE DUCHESS - EHEU FUGACES ! - THEY'LL NONE OF THEM BE MISSED GIRL GRADUATES BRAID THE RAVEN HAIR - THE WORKING MONARCH - THE APE AND THE LADY - ONLY ROSES ! THE ROVER'S APOLOGY ... OPERA PAGE Ruddigore - - 13 H.M.S. Pinafore - 15 Princess Ida - - 16 Patience - - - 18 Gondoliers 20 lolanthe - - -22 Yeomen of the Guard - 24 Pirates of ' Penzance - 25 Patience - - 27 Mikado 29 Pirates of Penzance - 31 Princess Ida - - 33 lolanthe - - - 35 Mikado 37 Gondoliers 38 Sorcerer - - 41 Mikado 43 Princess Ida - - 45 Mikado 47 Gondoliers - - - 48 Princess Ida - - 51 Ruddigore - - - 53 Trial by Jury - - 54 CONTENTS. AN APPEAL - - - - - THE REWARD OF MERIT - THE MAGNET AND THE CHURN THE FAMILY FOOL SANS Souci A RECIPE - THE MERRYMAN AND HIS MAID THE LORD CHANCELLOR'S SONG WHEN A MERRY MAIDEN MARRIES - A BRITISH TAR - A MAN WHO WOULD Woo A FAIR MAID THE SORCERER'S SONG THE FICKLE BREEZE - THE FIRST LORD'S SONG - WOULD You KNOW? - SPECULATION - AH, ME! - THE DUKE OF PLAZA-TORA THE ESTHETE - SAID I TO MYSELF SORRY HER LOT THE CONTEMPLATIVE SENTRY - THE PHILOSOPHIC PILL BLUE BLOOD THE JUDGE'S SONG WHEN I FIRST PUT THIS UNIFORM ON SOLATIUM .... A NIGHTMARE DON'T FORGET - THE SUICIDE'S GRAVE HE AND SHE OPERA PAGE Pirates of Penzance - 56 lolanthe* - - - 57 Patience - - - 59 Yeomen of the Guard - 61 Patience - - - 64 Gondoliers 66 Yeomen of the Guard - 67 lolanthe - - - 70 Gondoliers - - - 72 H.M.S. Pinafore - 74 Yeomen of the Guard - 75 Sorcerer - - - 77 Pirates of Penzance - 80 H.M.S. Pinafore - 82 Princess Ida - 84 Mikado - - 86 Yeomen of the Guard - 87 Gondoliers - - - 88 Patience - - 91 lolanihe - - - 93 H.M.S. Pinafore - 95 lolanthe - - - 96 Yeomen of the Guard - 98 lolanthe - - - 100 Trial by Jury - - 102 Patience - - - 104 Trial by Jury - - 106 lolanthe - - - 107 Gondoliers - - - no M/kado - - 113 Ruddigore - - - 115 * Omitted in representation. CONTENTS. XI SONG OPERA PAGE THE MIGHTY MUST - - Princess Ida 117 A MIRAGE - - Yeomer of the Guard - 118 THE GHOST'S HIGH NOON - Ruddigore - - - 120 THE HUMANE MIKADO - Mikado - 122 WILLOW WALY - - Patience - 125 LIFE is LOVELY ALL THE YEAR - Ruddigore - 127 THE USHER'S CHARGE - Trial by Jury 129 THE GREAT OAK TREE - Ruddigore - - - 131 KING GOODHEART Gondoliers - 133 SLEEP ON ! - - lolanthe* - 135 THE LOVESICK _OY - - Trial by Jury 136 POETRY EVERYWHERE - Patience - 137 HE LOVES - - lolanthe . - . 138 TRUE DIFFIDENCE - Ruddigore - 139 THE TANGLED SKEIN - - Gondoliers - 141 * Omitted in representation. SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. THE DARNED MOUNSEER. I SHIPPED, d'ye see, in a Revenue sloop, And, off Cape Finistere, 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 ! 13 14 SONGS OF A SA VO YARD. 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 (Which is what them furriners do), 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 ! 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 ! 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 ! 16 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 17 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 ! THE COMING BYE AND BYE. 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 bye and bye ! 18 SO^VGS OF A SAVOYARD. 19 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 bye and bye ! 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 20 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 21 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 (This statement can't be parried) Of a highly respectable Gondolier : Well, one of the two (who will soon be here) 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 ! 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 ! 22 SONGS OF A SA VO YARD. 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 tinder ! Could thy Brigade With cold cascade Quench my great love, I wonder ! IS LIFE A BOON? IS life a boon ? If so, it must befal 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 ! 24 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 many cheerful 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, 1 am the very model of a modem Major-Gineral. 25 4 26 SONGS OF A SA VO YARD. 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 conies I can floor peculiarities parabolous. I can 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- Genera/ 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 ! 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 (which sounds contradictory) 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 27 2 8 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 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 are fusible, Melt them all down in a pipkin or crucible, Set them 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 (if you can) 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 (but not very much of him) 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 ! PROPER PRIDE. THE Sun, whose rays Are all ablaze With ever living glory, Does not deny His majesty He scorns to tell a story ! He don'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 ! 29 30 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 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 ! 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 ! 31 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. When the enterprising burglar isn't burgling, When the cut-throat isn't occupied in crime, He loves to hear the little brook a-gurgling, And listen to the merry village chime. When the coster's finished jumping on his mother, He loves to lie a-basking in the sun : Ah, take one consideration with another, The policeman's lot is not a happy one ! THE BAFFLED GRUMBLER. W HEN E'ER I poke Sarcastic joke Replete with malice spiteful, The ptople vile Politely smile And vote me quite delightful ! Now, when a wight Sits up all night Ill-natuied jokes devising, And all his wiles Are met with smiles, It's hard, there's no disguising ! Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong, And isn't youi life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at ! 33 34 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. When German bands From music stands Play Wagner imper/fer/ly I bid them go They don't say no, But off they trot directly ! The organ boys They stop their noise With readiness surprising, And grinning herds Of hurdy-gurds Retire apologising ! Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong And isn't your life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at ! I've offered gold, In sums untold, To all who'd contradict me I've said I'd pay A pound a day To any one who kicked me I've bribed with toys Great vulgar boys To utter something spiteful, But, bless you, no ! They will be so Confoundedly politeful ! In short, these aggravating lads They tickle my tastes, they feed my fads, They give me this and they give me that, And I've nothing whatever to grumble at ! THE HOUSE OF PEERS. WHEN Britain really ruled the waves - (In good Queen Bess's time) The House of Peers made no pretence To intellectual eminence, Or scholarship sublime ; Yet Britain won her proudest bays In good Queen Bess's glorious days ! When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte, As every child can tell, The House of Peers, throughout the war, Did nothing in particular, And did it very well ; Yet Britain set the world a-blaze In good King George's glorious days ! 35 SONGS OF A SA VO YARD. And while the House of Peers withholds Its legislative hand, And noble statesmen do not itch To interfere with matters which They do not understand, As bright will shine Great Britain's rays, As in King George's glorious days ! A MERRY MADRIGAL. RIGHTLY dawns our wedding day ; Joyous hour, we give thee greeting ! Whither, whither art thou fleeting ? Fickle moment, prithee stay ! What though mortal joys be hollow? Pleasures come, if sorrows follow : Though the tocsin sound, ere long, Ding dong ! Ding dong ! Yet until the shadows fall Over one and over all, Sing a merry madrigal Fal la ! Let us dry the ready tear ; Though the hours are surely creeping, Little need for woeful weeping, Till the sad sundown is near. All must sip the cup of sorrow I to-day and thou to-morrow : This the close of every song Ding dong ! Ding dong ! What, though solemn shadows fall, Sooner, later, over all? Sing a merry madrigal Fal la ! 37 THE DUKE AND THE DUCHESS. THE DUKE. OMALL titles and orders ^-3 For Mayors and Recorders I get and they're highly delighted. M.P.s baronetted, Sham Colonels gazetted, And second-rate Aldermen knighted. Foundation-stone laying I find very paying. It adds a large sum to my makings. At charity dinners The best of speech-spinners, I get ten per cent, on the takings ! THE DUCHESS. I present any lady Whose conduct is shady Or smacking of doubtful propriety ; When Virtue would quash her, I take and whitewash her And launch her in first-rate society. 38 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 39 I recommend acres Of clumsy dressmakers Their fit and their finishing touches ; A sum in addition They pay for permission To say that they make for the Duchess ! THE DUKE. Those pressing prevailers, The ready-made tailors, Quote me as their great double-barrel I allow them to do so, Though ROBINSON CRUSOE Would jib at their wearing apparel ! I sit, by selection, Upon the direction Of several Companies bubble ; As soon as they're floated I'm freely bank-noted I'm pretty well paid for my trouble ! THE DUCHESS. At middle-class party I play at ecarte And I'm by no means a beginner ; To one of my station The remuneration Five guineas a night and my dinner. I write letters blatant On medicines patent And use any other you mustn't ; And vow my complexion Derives its perfection From somebody's soap which it doesn't. SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. THE DUKE. BOTH. We're ready as witness To any one's fitness To fill any place or preferment ; We're often in waiting At junket or feting, And sometimes attend an interment. In short, if you'd kindle The spark of a swindle, Lure simpletons into your clutches, Or hoodwink a debtor, You cannot do better Than trot out a Duke or a Duchess ! EHEU FUGACES ! THE air is charged with amatory numbers Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays. Peace, peace, old heart ! Why waken from its slumbers The aching memory of the old, old days ? Time was when Love and I were well acquainted. Time was when we walked ever hand in hand ; A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted, None better-loved than I in all the land ! Time was, when maidens of the noblest station, Forsaking even military men, Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration Ah me, I was a fair young curate then ! 41 42 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. Had I a headache ? sighed the maids assembled ; Had I a cold ? welled forth the silent tear ; Did I look pale ? then half a parish trembled ; And when I coughed all thought the end was near ! 1 had no care no jealous doubts hung o'er me For I was loved beyond all other men. Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me Ah me, I was a pale young curate then ! THEY'LL NONE OF 'EM BE MISSED. AS some day it may happen that a victim must be found, I've got a little list I've got a little list Of social offenders who might well be underground, And who never would be missed who never would be missed ! There's the pestilential nuisances who write for autographs All people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs All children who are up in dates, and floor you with 'em flat All persons who in shaking hands, shake hands with you like that And all third persons who on spoiling tete-a-teles insist They'd none of 'em be missed they'd none of 'em be missed ! There's the nigger serenader, and the others of his race, And the piano organist I've got him on the list ! And the people who eat peppermint and puff it in your face, They never would be missed they never would be missed ! 43 44 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. Then the idiot who praises, with enthusiastic tone, All centuries but this, and every country but his own ; And the lady from the provinces, who dresses like a guy, And who doesn't think she waltzes, but would rather like to try ; And that singular anomaly, the lady novelist I don't think she'd be missed I'm sure she'd not be missed ! And that Nisi Prius nuisance, who just now is rather rife, The Judicial humorist I've got him on the list ! All funny fellows, comic men, and clowns of private life They'd none of 'em be missed they'd none of 'em be missed. And apologetic statesmen of the compromising kind, Such as What-d'ye-call-him Thing'em-Bob, and likewise Never-mind, And 'St 'st 'st and What's-his-name, and also You-know-who {The task of filling up the blanks I'd rather leave to you!} But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list, For they'd none of 'em be missed they'd none of 'em be missed ! GIRL GRADUATES. THEY intend to send a wire To the moon ; And they'll set the Thames on fire Very soon ; Then they learn to make silk purses With their rigs From the ears of LADY CIRCE'S Piggy-wigs. And weazels at their slumbers They'll trepan ; To get sunbeams from cucumbers They've a plan. They've a firmly rooted notion They can cross the Polar Ocean, And they'll find Perpetual Motion If they can ! 45 46 SOAGS OF A SAVOYARD. These are the phenomena That every pretty domina Hopes that we shall see At this Universitee ! As for fashion, they forswear it, So they say, And the circle they will square it Some fine day ; Then the little pigs they're teaching For to fly ; And the niggers they'll be bleaching Bye and bye ! Each newly joined aspirant To the clan Must repudiate the tyrant Known as Man ; They mock at him and flout him, For they do not care about him, And they're " going to do without him " If they can ! These are the phenomena That every pretty domina Hopes that we shall see At this Universitee ! BRAID THE RAVEN HAIR. BRAID the raven hair, Weave the supple tress, Deck the maiden fair In her loveliness ; Paint the pretty face, Dye the coral lip, Emphasize the grace Of her ladyship ! Art and nature, thus allied, Go to make a pretty bride ! Sit with downcast eye, Let it brim with dew ; Try if you can cry, We will do so, too. When you're summoned, start, Like a frightened roe ; Flutter, little heart, Colour, come and go ! Modesty at marriage tide Well becomes a pretty bride ! 47 THE WORKING MONARCH. RISING early in the morning, We proceed to light our fire, Then our Majesty adorning In its work-a-day attire, We embark without delay On the duties of the day. First, we polish off some batches Of political despatches, And foreign politicians circumvent ; Then, if business isn't heavy, We may hold a Royal lev'ee, Or ratify some Acts of Parliament : Then we probably review the household troops With the usual " Shalloo humps ! " and " Shalloo hoops ! " 48 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 49 Or receive with ceremonial and state An interesting Eastern Potentate. After that we generally Go and dress our private vald (It's a rather nervous duty he a touchy little man) Write some letters literary For our private secretary He is shaky in his spelling, so we help him if we can. Then, in view of cravings inner, We go down and order dinner ; Or we polish the Regalia and the Coronation Plate Spend an hour in titivating All our Gentlemen-in- Waiting ; Or we run on little errands for the Ministers of State. Oh, philosophers may sing Of the troubles of a King ; Yet the duties are delightful, and the privileges great ; But the privilege and pleasure That we treasure beyond measure Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State ! After luncheon (making merry On a bun and glass of sherry), If we've nothing in particular to do, We may make a Proclamation, Or receive a Deputation Then we possibly create a Peer or two. Then we help a fellow creature on his path With the Garter or the Thistle or the Bath : Or we dress and toddle off in serni-State To a festival, a function, or a fete. Then we go and stand as sentry At the Palace (private entry), 50 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. Marching hither, marching thither, up and down and to and fro, While the warrior on duty Goes in search of beer and beauty (And it generally happens that he hasn't far to go). He relieves us, if he's able, Just in time to lay the table, Then we dine and serve the coffee ; and at half-past twelve or one, With a pleasure that's emphatic, We retire to our attic With the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done. Oh, philosophers may sing Of the troubles of a King, But of pleasures there are many and of troubles there are none; And the culminating pleasure That we treasure beyond measure Is the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done ! THE APE AND THE LADY. A LADY fair, of lineage high, Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by The Maid was radiant as the sun, The Ape was a most unsightly one So it would not do His scheme fell through ; For the Maid, when his love took formal shape, Expressed such terror At his monstrous error, That he stammered an apology and made his 'scape, The picture of a disconcerted Ape. 51 52 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. With a view to rise in the social scale, He shaved his bristles, and he docked his tail, He grew moustachios, and he took his tub, And he paid a guinea to a toilet club. But it would not do, The scheme fell through For the Maid was Beauty's fairest Queen With golden tresses, Like a real princess's, While the Ape, despite his razor keen, Was the apiest Ape that ever was seen ! He bought white ties, and he bought dress suits, He crammed his feet into bright tight boots, And to start his life on a brand-new plan, He christened himself Darwinian Man ! But it would not do, The scheme fell through For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey craved, Was a radiant Being, With a brain far-seeing While a Man, however well-behaved, .At best is only a monkey shaved ! ONLY ROSES! TO a garden full of posies Cometh one to gather flowers, And he wanders through its bowers Toying with the wanton roses, Who, uprising from their beds, Hold on high their shameless heads With their pretty lips a-pouting, Never doubting never doubting That for Cytherean posies He would gather aught but roses ! In a nest of weeds and nettles, Lay a violet, half hidden, Hoping that his glance unbidden Yet might fall upon her petals. Though she lived alone, apart, Hope lay nestling at her heart, But, alas ! the cruel awaking Set her little heart a-breaking, For he gathered for his posies Only roses only roses ! 53 THE ROVER'S APOLOGY. OH, gentlemen, listen, I pray ; Though I own that my heart has been ranging, Of nature the laws I obey, For nature is constantly changing. The moon in her phases is found, The time and the wind and the weather, The months in succession come round, And you don't find two Mondays together. Consider the moral, I pray, Nor bring a young fellow to sorrow, Who loves this young lady to-day, And loves that young lady to morrow. 54 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 55 You cannot eat breakfast all day. Nor is it the act of a sinner, When breakfast is taken away, To turn your attention to dinner ; And it's not in the range of belief, That you could hold him as a glutton, Who, when he is tired of beef, Determines to tackle the mutton. But this I am ready to say, If it will diminish their sorrow, I'll marry this lady to-day, And I'll marry that lady to-morrow AN APPEAL. OH ! is there not one maiden breast Which does not feel the moral beauty Of making worldly interest Subordinate to sense of duty ? Who would not give up willingly All matrimonial ambition, To rescue such a one as I From his unfortunate position ? Oh, is there not one maiden here, Whose homely face and bad complexion Have caused all hopes to disappear Of ever winning man's affection ? To such a one, if such there be, I swear by Heaven's arch above you, If you will cast your eyes on me, However plain you be I'll love you ! 56 THE REWARD OF MERIT. DR. BELVILLE was regarded as the CRICHTON of his age : His tragedies were reckoned much too thoughtful for the stage ; His poems held a noble rank, although it's very true That, being very proper, they were read by very few. He was a famous Painter, too, and shone upon the " line," And even MR. RUSKIN came and worshipped at his shrine ; But, alas, the school he followed was heroically high The kind of Art men rave about, but very seldom buy And everybody said " How can he be repaid This very great this very good this very gifted man ?" But nobody could hit upon a practicable plan ! 57 8 58 SONGS Of A SAVOYARD. He was a great Inventor, and discovered, all alone, A plan for making everybody's fortune but his own ; For, in business, an Inventor's little better than a fool, And my highly gifted friend was no exception to the rule. His poems people read them in the Quarterly Reviews His pictures they engraved them in the Illustrated News His inventions they, perhaps, might have enriched him by degrees, But all his little income went in Patent Office fees ; And everybody said " How can he be repaid This very great this very good this very gifted man ? " But nobody could hit upon a practicable plan ! At last the point was given up in absolute despair, When a distant cousin died, and he became a millionaire, With a county seat in Parliament, a moor or two of grouse, And a taste for making inconvenient speeches in the House ! Then it flashed upon Britannia that the fittest of rewards Was, to take him from the Commons and to put him in the Lords ! And who so fit to sit in it, deny it if you can, As this very great this very good this very gifted man ? (Though I'm more than half afraid That it sometimes may be said That we never should have revelled in that source of proper pride, However great his merits if his cousin hadn't died ! ) THE MAGNET AND THE CHURN. A MAGNET hung in a hardware shop, And all around was a loving crop Of scissors and needles, nails and knives^, Offering love for all their lives ; But for iron the magnet felt no whim, Though he charmed iron, it charmed not him, From needles and nails and knives he'd turn, For he'd set his love on a Silver Churn ! His most aesthetic, Very magnetic Fancy took this turn " If I can wheedle A knife or needle, Why not a Silver Churn ?'' 59 60 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. And Iron and Steel expressed surprise, The needles opened their well drilled eyes, The pen-knives felt " shut up," no doubt, The scissors declared themselves " cut out," The kettles they boiled with rage, 'tis said, While every nail went off its head, And hither and thither began to roam, Till a hammer came up and drove it home, While this magnetic Peripatetic Lover he lived to learn, By no endeavour, Can Magnet ever Attract a Silver Churn ! THE FAMILY FOOL. OH ! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon, If you listen to popular rumour ; From morning to night he's so joyous and bright, And he bubbles with wit and good humour ! He's so quaint and so terse, both in prose and in verse ; Yet though people forgive his transgression, There are one or two rules that all Family Fools Must observe, if they love their profession. There are one or two rules Half a dozen, maybe That all family fools, Of whatever degree, Must observe, if they love their profession. Gl 62 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. If you wish to succeed as a jester, you'll need To consider each person's auricular : What is all right for B would quite scandalize C (For C is so very particular) ; And D may be dull, and E's very thick skull Is as empty of brains as a ladle ; While F is F sharp, and will cry with a carp, That he's known your best joke from his cradle ! When your humour they flout, You can't let yourself go ; And it does put you out When a person says, " Oh ! I have known that old joke from my cradle ! " If your master is surly, from getting up early (And tempers are short in the morning), An inopportune joke is enough to provoke Him to give you, at once, a month's warning. Then if you refrain, he is at you again, For he likes to get value for money. He'll ask then and there, with an insolent stare, "If you know that you're paid to be funny?" It adds to the task Of a merryman's place, When your principal asks, With a scowl on his face, If you know that you're paid to be funny ? Comes a Bishop, maybe, or a solemn D.D. Oh, beware of his anger provoking ! Better not pull his hair don't stick pins in his chair ; He don't understand practical joking. SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 63 If the jests that you crack have an orthodox smack, You may get a bland smile from these sages ; But should it, by chance, be imported from France, Half-a-crown is stopped out of your wages ! It's a general rule, Though your zeal it may quench, If the Family Fool Makes a joke that's too French, Half-a-crown is stopped out of his wages ! Though your head it may rack with a bilious attack, And your senses with toothache you're losing, Don't be mopy and flat they don't fine you for that, If you're properly quaint and amusing ! Though your wife ran away with a soldier that day, And took with her your trifle of money ; Bless you heart, they don't mind they're exceedingly kind They don't blame you as long as you're funny ! It's a comfort to feel If your partner should flit, Though you suffer a deal, They don't mind it a bit They don't blame you so long as you're funny ! SANS SOUCI. I CANNOT tell what this love may be That cometh to all but not to me. It cannot be kind as they'd imply, Or why do these gentle ladies sigh ? It cannot be joy and rapture deep, Or why do these gentle ladies weep ? It cannot be blissful, as 'tis said, Or why are their eyes so wondrous red ? If love is a thorn, they show no wit Who foolishly hug and foster it If love is a weed, how simple they Who gather and gather it, day by day ! 64 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. If love is a nettle that makes you smart. Why do you wear it next your heart ? And if it be neither of these, say I, Why do you sit and sob and sigh ? A RECIPE. TAKE a pair of sparkling eyes, Hidden, ever and anon, In a merciful eclipse Do not heed their mild surprise Having passed the Rubicon. Take a pair of rosy lips ; Take a figure trimly planned Such as admiration whets (Be particular in this) ; Take a tender little hand, Fringed with dainty fingerettes, Press it in parenthesis ; Take all these, you lucky man Take and keep them, if you can Take a pretty little cot Quite a miniature affair Hung about with trellised vine, Furnish it upon the spot With the treasures rich and rare I've endeavoured to define. Live to love and love to live You will ripen at your ease, Growing on the sunny side Fate has nothing more to give. You're a dainty man to please If you are not satisfied. Take my counsel, happy man : Act upon it, if you can ! 66 THE MERRYMAN AND HIS MAID. HE. SHE. HE. I HAVE a song to sing, O ! Sing me your song, O ! It is sung to the moon By a love-lorn loon, Who fled from the mocking throng, O ! It's the song of a merrynian, moping mum, Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum, Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of a ladye. Heighdy ! heighdy ! Misery me lackadaydee ! He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of a ladye ! 67' 68 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. SHE. I have a song to sing, O ! HE. Sing me your song, O ! SHE. It is sung with the ring Of the song maids sing Who love with a love life-long, O 1 It's the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud, Who loved a lord, and who laughed aloud At the moan of the merryman, moping mum, Whose soul was sore, whose glance was glum, Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of a ladye ! Heighdy ! heighdy ! Misery me lackadaydee ! He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of r. ladye. HE. I have a song to sing, O ! SHE. Sing me your song, O ! HE. It is sung to the knell Of a churchyard bell, And a doleful dirge, ding dong, O ! It's a song of a popinjay, bravely born, Who turned up his noble nose with scorn At the humble merrymaid, peerly proud, Who loved that lord, and who laughed aloud At the moan of the merryman, moping mum, Whose soul was sad, whose glance was glum, Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of a ladye ! Heighdy ! heighdy ! Misery me lackadaydee ! He sipped no sup, and he craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of a ladye ! SONGS OF A SA VO YARD. 69 SHE. I have a song to sing, O ! HE. Sing me your song, O ! SHE. It is sung with a sigh And a tear in the eye, For it tells of a righted wrong, O ! It's a song of a merrymaid, once so gay, Who turned on her heel and tripped away From the peacock popinjay, bravely born, Who turned up his noble nose with scorn At the humble heart that he did not prize ; And it tells how she begged, with downcast eyes, For the love of the merryman, moping mum, Whose soul was sad and whose glance was glum, Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb, As he sighed for the love of a ladye ! BOTH. Heighdy ! heighdy ! Misery me lackadaydee ! His pains were o'er, and he sighed no more, For he lived in the love of a ladve ! THE LORD CHANCELLOR'S SONG, THE Law is the true embodiment Of everything that's excellent. It has no kind of fault or flaw, And I, my lords, embody the Law. The constitutional guardian I Of pretty young Wards in Chancery, All very agreeable girls and none Are over the age of twenty-one. A pleasant occupation for A rather susceptible Chancellor ! But though the compliment implied Inflates me with legitimate pride, It nevertheless can't be denied That it has its inconvenient side. 70 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 71 For I'm not so old, and not so plain, And I'm quite prepared to marry again, But there'd be the deuce to pay in the Lords If I fell in love with one of my Wards : Which ralher tries my temper, for I'm such a susceptible Chancellor ! And everyone who'd marry a Ward Must come to me for my accord : So in my court I sit all day, Giving agreeable girls away, With one for him and one for he And one for you and one for ye And one for thou and one for thee But never, oh never a one for me ! Which is exasperating, for A highly susceptible Chancellor ! WHEN A MERRY MAIDEN MARRIES. WHEN a merry maiden marries, Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries ; Every sound becomes a song, All is right and nothing's wrong ! From to-day and ever after Let your tears be tears of laughter Every sigh that finds a vent Be a sigh of sweet content ! When you marry merry maiden, Then the air with love is laden ; Every flower is a rose, Every goose becomes a swan, Every kind of trouble goes Where the last year's snows have gone Sunlight takes the place of shade When you marry merry maid ! 72 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. 73 When a merry maiden marries Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries ; Every sound becomes a song, All is right, and nothing's wrong. Gnawing Care and aching Sorrow, Get ye gone until to-morrow ; Jealousies in grim array, Ye are things of yesterday ! When you marry merry maiden, Then the air with joy is laden ; All the corners of the earth Ring with music sweetly played, Worry is melodious mirth, Grief is joy in masquerade ; Sullen night is laughing day All the year is merry May ! 10 THE BRITISH TAR. 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. His eyes snould flash with an inborn fire, His brow with scorn be rung ; 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 ! A MAN who would woo a fair maid, Should 'prentice himself to the trade ; And study all day, In methodical way, How to flatter, cajole and persuade. He should 'prentice himself at fourteen, And practise from morning to e'en ; And when he's of age, If he will, I'll engage, He may capture the heart of a queen ! It is purely a matter of skill, Which all may attain if they will : But every Jack He must study the knack If he wants to make sure of his Jill ! 7 6 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. If he's made the best use of his time, His twig he'll so carefully lime That every bird Will come down at his word, Whatever its plumage and clime. He must learn that the thrill of a touch May mean little, or nothing, or much : It's an instrument rare, To be handled with care, And ought to be treated as such. It is purely a matter of skill, Which all may attain if they will : But every Jack, He must study the knack If he wants to make sure of his Jill ! Then a glance may be timid or free ; It will vary in mighty degree, From an impudent stare To a look of despair That no maid without pity can see. And a glance of despair is no guide It may have its ridiculous side ; It may draw you a tear Or a box on the ear ; You can never be sure till you've tried It is purely a matter of skill, Which all may attain if they will : But every Jack He must study the knack If he wants to make sure of his Jill ! THE SORCERER'S SONG. OH ! my name is JOHN WELLINGTON WELLS- 1'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses, And ever filled purses, In prophecies, witches and knells ! If you want a proud foe to " make tracks " If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax You've but to look in On our resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe We've a first class assortment of magic ; And for raising a posthumous shade With effects that are comic or tragic, There's no cheaper house in the trade 78 SONGS OF A SAVOYARD. Love-philtre we've quantities of it ; And for knowledge if any one burns, We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet Who brings us unbounded returns : For he can prophesy With a wink