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William Schwenck Gilbert - The Yarn of the Nancy Bell
Work rating: Low

`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
However you can 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 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 at 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 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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