SIR JOSEPH. (examining a very small midshipman). A British
sailor is a
splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran.
CAPT. A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain
Corcoran.
CAPT. Indeed I hope so, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH, Never forget that they are the bulwarks of
England's
greatness, Captain Corcoran.
CAPT. So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. No bullying, I trust—no strong language of any
kind, eh?
CAPT. Oh, never, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. What, never?
CAPT. Hardly ever, Sir Joseph. They are an excellent crew, and
do their
work thoroughly without it.
SIR JOSEPH. Don't patronise them, sir—pray, don't patronise
them.
CAPT. Certainly not, Sir Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. That you are their captain is an accident of birth.
I
cannot permit these noble fellows to be patronised because an
accident of
birth has placed you above them and them below you.
CAPT. I am the last person to insult a British sailor, Sir
Joseph.
SIR JOSEPH. You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran.
Desire
that splendid seaman to step forward.
(DICK comes forward)
SIR JOSEPH. No, no, the other splendid seaman.
CAPT. Ralph Rackstraw, three paces to the front—march!
SIR JOSEPH (sternly). If what?
CAPT. I beg your pardon—I don't think I understand you.
SIR JOSEPH. If you please.
CAPT. Oh, yes, of course. If you please. (RALPH steps forward.)
SIR JOSEPH. You're a remarkably fine fellow.
RALPH. Yes, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. And a first-rate seaman, I'll be bound.
RALPH. There's not a smarter topman in the Navy, your honour,
though I
say it who shouldn't.
SIR JOSEPH. Not at all. Proper self-respect, nothing more. Can
you
dance a hornpipe?
RALPH. No, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. That's a pity: all sailors should dance hornpipes.
I will
teach you one this evening, after dinner. Now tell me—don't be
afraid—
how does your captain treat you, eh?
RALPH. A better captain don't walk the deck, your honour.
ALL. Aye; Aye!
SIR JOSEPH. Good. I like to hear you speak well of your
commanding
officer; I daresay he don't deserve it, but still it does you
credit. Can
you sing?
RALPH. I can hum a little, your honour.
SIR JOSEPH. Then hum this at your leisure. (Giving him MS.
music.) It
is a song that I have composed for the use of the Royal Navy. It
is
designed to encourage independence of thought and action in the
lower
branches of the service, and to teach the principle that a
British sailor
is any man's equal, excepting mine. Now, Captain Corcoran, a word
with
you in your cabin, on a tender and sentimental subject.
CAPT. Aye, aye,
Sir Joseph (Crossing) Boatswain, in commemoration of this
joyous
occasion, see that extra grog is served out to the ship's company
at
seven bells.
BOAT. Beg pardon. If what, your honour?
CAPT. If what? I don't think I understand you.
BOAT. If you please, your honour.
CAPT. What!
SIR JOSEPH. The gentleman is quite right. If you please.
CAPT. (stamping his foot impatiently). If you please!
[Exit.
SIR JOSEPH. For I hold that on the seas
The expression, "if you please",
A particularly gentlemanly tone implants.
COUSIN HEBE. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his
aunts!
[Exeunt SIR JOSEPH AND
RELATIVES.
BOAT. Ah! Sir Joseph's true gentleman; courteous and
considerate to the
very humblest.
RALPH. True, Boatswain, but we are not the very humblest. Sir
Joseph
has explained our true position to us. As he says, a British
seaman is
any man's equal excepting his, and if Sir Joseph says that, is it
not our
duty to believe him?
ALL. Well spoke! well spoke!
DICK. You're on a wrong tack, and so is he. He means well, but
he don't
know. When people have to obey other people's orders, equality's
out of
the question.
ALL (recoiling). Horrible! horrible!
BOAT. Dick Deadeye, if you go for to infuriate this here ship's
company
too far, I won't answer for being able to hold 'em in. I'm
shocked!
that's what I am—shocked!
RALPH. Messmates, my mind's made up. I'll speak to the
captain's
daughter, and tell her, like an honest man, of the honest love I
have for
her.
ALL. Aye, aye!
RALPH. Is not my love as good as another's? Is not my heart as
true as
another's? Have I not hands and eyes and ears and limbs like
another?
ALL. Aye, Aye!
RALPH. True, I lack birth—