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(Same Scene. Night. Awning removed. Moonlight. Captain discovered
singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on a mandolin. Little
Buttercup seated on quarterdeck, gazing sentimentally at him.)
Captain.
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
I have lived hitherto
Free from breath of slander,
Beloved by all my crew —
A really popular commander.
But now my kindly crew rebel,
My daughter to a tar is partial,
Sir Joseph storms, and, sad to tell,
He threatens a court martial!
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens,
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Bright regent of the heavens
DIALOGUE
Buttercup.
How sweetly he carols forth his melody to the unconscious moon!
Of whom is he thinking? Of some high-born beauty? It may be!
Who is poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his glance to
fall on one so lowly! And yet if he knew — if he only knew!
Captain. (coming down)
Ah! Little Buttercup, still on board? That is not quite right, little
one. It would have been more respectable to have gone on shore
at dusk.
Buttercup.
True, dear Captain — but the recollection of your sad pale face
seemed to chain me to the ship. I would fain see you smile before
I go.
Captain.
Ah! Little Buttercup, I fear it will be long before I recover my
accustomed cheerfulness, for misfortunes crowd upon me, and all
my old friends seem to have turned against me!
Buttercup.
Oh no — do not say "all", dear Captain. That were unjust to one,
at least.
Captain.
True, for you are staunch to me. (aside) If ever I gave my heart
again, methinks it would be to such a one as this! (aloud) I am
touched to the heart by your innocent regard for me, and were we
differently situated, I think I could have returned it. But as it is, I
fear I can never be more to you than a friend.
Buttercup.
I understand! You hold aloof from me because you are rich and
lofty — and I poor and lowly. But take care! The poor bumboat
woman has gipsy blood in her veins, and she can read destinies.
Captain.
Destinies?
Buttercup.
There is a change in store for you!
Captain.
A change?
Buttercup.
Aye — be prepared!
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Aye — be prepared!
Buttercup.
A change?
Captain.
There is a change in store for you!
Buttercup.
Destinies?
Captain.
woman has gipsy blood in her veins, and she can read destinies.
lofty — and I poor and lowly. But take care! The poor bumboat
I understand! You hold aloof from me because you are rich and
Buttercup.
fear I can never be more to you than a friend.
differently situated, I think I could have returned it. But as it is, I
touched to the heart by your innocent regard for me, and were we
again, methinks it would be to such a one as this! (aloud) I am
True, for you are staunch to me. (aside) If ever I gave my heart
Captain.
at least.
Oh no — do not say "all", dear Captain. That were unjust to one,
Buttercup.
my old friends seem to have turned against me!
accustomed cheerfulness, for misfortunes crowd upon me, and all
Ah! Little Buttercup, I fear it will be long before I recover my
Captain.
I go.
seemed to chain me to the ship. I would fain see you smile before
True, dear Captain — but the recollection of your sad pale face
Buttercup.
at dusk.
one. It would have been more respectable to have gone on shore
Ah! Little Buttercup, still on board? That is not quite right, little
Captain. (coming down)
fall on one so lowly! And yet if he knew — if he only knew!
Who is poor Little Buttercup that she should expect his glance to
Of whom is he thinking? Of some high-born beauty? It may be!
How sweetly he carols forth his melody to the unconscious moon!
Buttercup.
DIALOGUE
Bright regent of the heavens
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Either at sixes or at sevens?
Say, why is everything
Bright regent of the heavens,
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
He threatens a court martial!
Sir Joseph storms, and, sad to tell,
My daughter to a tar is partial,
But now my kindly crew rebel,
A really popular commander.
Beloved by all my crew —
Free from breath of slander,
I have lived hitherto
Either at sixes or at sevens?
Say, why is everything
Either at sixes or at sevens?
Say, why is everything
Bright regent of the heavens,
Fair moon, to thee I sing,
Captain.
Buttercup seated on quarterdeck, gazing sentimentally at him.)
singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on a mandolin. Little
(Same Scene. Night. Awning removed. Moonlight. Captain discovered
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