
lirik lagu v. c. clinton-baddeley - w.s. gilbert: the yarn of the nancy bell
’twas on the shores that round our coast
from deal to ramsgate span
that i found alone, on a piece of stone
an elderly naval man
his hair was weedy, his beard was long
and weedy and long was he
and i heard this wight on the shore recite
in a singular minor key:
“oh, i am a cook and a captain bold
and the mate of the nancy brig
and a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite
and the crew of the captain’s gig.”
and he shook his fists and he tore his hair
till i really felt afraid;
for i couldn’t help thinking the man had been drinking
and so i simply said:
“oh, elderly man it’s little i know
of the duties of men of the sea
and i’ll eat my hand if i understand
how you can possibly be
“at once a cook, and a captain bold
and the mate of the nancy brig
and a bo’sun tight and a midshipmite
and the crew of the captain’s gig.”
then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which
is a trick all seamen larn
and having got rid of a thumping quid
he spun this painful yarn:
“’twas in the good ship nancy bell
that we sailed to the indian sea
and there on a reef we come to grief
which has often occurred to me
“and pretty nigh all o’ the crew was drowned
(there was seventy~seven o’ soul)
and only ten of the nancy’s men
said ‘here!’ to the muster roll
“there was me and the cook and the captain bold
and the mate of the nancy brig
and the bo’sun tight and a midshipmite
and the crew of the captain’s gig
“for a month we’d neither wittles nor drink
till a~hungry we did feel
so, we drawed a lot, and, accordin’ shot
the captain for our meal
“the next lot fell to the nancy’s mate
and a delicate dish he made;
then our appetite with the midshipmite
we seven survivors stayed
“and then we murdered the bo’sun tight
and he much resembled pig;
then we wittled free, did the cook and me
on the crew of the captain’s gig
“then only the cook and me was left
and the delicate question, ‘which
of us two goes to the kettle?’ arose
and we argued it out as sich
“for i loved that cook as a brother, i did
and the cook he worshipped me;
but we’d both be blowed if we’d either be stowed
in the other chap’s hold, you see
“‘i’ll be eat if you dines off me,’ says tom
‘yes, that,’ says i, ‘you’ll be,’
‘i’m boiled if i die, my friend,’ quoth i
and ‘exactly so,’ quoth he
“says he, ‘dear james, to murder me
were a foolish thing to do
for don’t you see that you can’t cook me
while i can and will cook you!’
“so, he boils the water, and takes the salt
and the pepper in portions true
(which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot
and some sage and parsley too
“‘come here,’ says he, with a proper pride
which his smiling features tell
”t will soothing be if i let you see
how extremely nice you’ll smell,’
“and he stirred it round and round and round
and he sniffed the foaming froth;
when i ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals
in the scum of the boiling broth
“and i eat that cook in a week or less
and as i eating be
the last of his chops, why i almost drops
for a wessel in sight i see
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“and i never larf, and i never smile
and i never lark nor play
but i sit and croak, and a single joke
i have which is to say:
“oh, i am a cook and a captain bold
and the mate of the nancy brig
and a bo’sun tight, and a midshipmite
and the crew of the captain’s gig!”
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