Luyện nghe bài hát A British Tar

Ralph, & Carpenter.
A British tar is a soul,
As free as a bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to
A word.

His should pant
and his lip curl,
His should flame
and his brow furl,
His bosom should
and his heart glow,
And his fist be ever
for a blow.

Chorus.
His should pant
and his lip curl,
His should flame
and his should furl,
His bosom should
and his should glow,
And his fist be ready
for a blow.

Ralph, & Carpenter.
His eyes should with an inborn fire,
His brow scorn be wrung;
He never should bow
to a frown,
Or the of a tyrant tongue.

His foot should stamp, and his should growl,
His should twirl, and his face should scowl;
His should flash, and his breast protrude,
And should be his customary attitude.

Chorus.
His foot should stamp, and his throat growl,
His hair should twirl, and his face should
His eyes should flash, and his protrude,
And this should be his attitude,
His
His
His attitude. (pose)

(All dance off excepting Ralph, who remains, leaning pensively bulwark.)

(Enter Jospehine cabin)

Josephine.
It is useless — Sir Joseph's nauseate me. I know
that he is a great and good man, for he told me so
himself, but to me he tedious, fretful, and dictatorial.
Yet his be a mind of no common order, or he would not
dare to teach my dear to dance a hornpipe on the cabin
table. (Sees Ralph.) Rackstraw! (Overcome by emotion.)

Ralph.
Aye, lady -- no other poor Ralph Rackstraw!

Josephine.
(aside) How my beats! (aloud) And why poor, Ralph?

Ralph.
I am in the essence of happiness, lady --— rich only in
never-ending unrest. In me there meet a of
antithetical which are at eternal war with one another.
Driven hither by influences — thither by subjective
emotions — wafted one moment into blazing day, by
hope — plunged the next into the darkness of tangible
despair, I am but a living of irreconcilable antagonisms. I
hope I make myself clear,

Josephine.
Perfectly. (aside) His simple eloquence to my heart. Oh, if I
— but no, the thought is madness! (aloud) Dismiss these
foolish fancies, they torture you but needlessly. Come, one
effort.

Ralph.
(aside) I — one. (aloud) Josephine!

Josephine. (indignantly)
Sir!

Ralph.
Aye, even though Jove's armoury were launched at the
of the audacious mortal lips, unhallowed by relationship,
dared to breathe that precious word, yet would I it once,
and then perchance be silent evermore. Josephine, in one
breath I will concentrate the hopes, the doubts, the fears
of six months. Josephine, I am a British sailor, and I love you!

Josephine.
Sir, this audacity! (aside) Oh, my heart, my beating heart! (aloud)
unwarrantable presumption on the part of a sailor
(aside) Common! oh, the of the word! (crossing, aloud) Oh, sir,
you the disparity in our ranks.

Ralph.
I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my is in
your — I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I lack in
education and polite accomplishments, that I endeavour to acquire.
Drive me to despair, and in death I shall look for consolation. I
am proud and cannot to implore. I have spoken and I wait your
word.

Josephine.
You not wait long. Your proffered love I haughtily reject.
Go, sir, and learn to your eyes on some village maiden in
your own poor rank — they should be before your captain's
daughter.