ALL. Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, etc.

GIU. And n.o.ble lords will sc.r.a.pe and bow, And double themselves in two, And open their eyes In blank surprise At whatever she likes to do.

And everybody will roundly vow She's fair as flowers in May, And say, "How clever!"

At whatsoever She condescends to say!

ALL. Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween, To be a regular Royal Queen!

No half-and-half affair, I mean, But a right-down regular Royal Queen!

(Enter Chorus of Gondoliers and Contadine.)

CHORUS.

Now, pray, what is the cause of this remarkable hilarity?

This sudden ebullition of unmitigated jollity?

Has anybody blessed you with a sample of his charity?

Or have you been adopted by a gentleman of quality?

MAR. and GIU. Replying, we sing As one individual, As I find I'm a king, To my kingdom I bid you all.

I'm aware you object To pavilions and palaces, But you'll find I respect Your Republican fallacies.

CHORUS. As they know we object To pavilions and palaces, How can they respect Our Republican fallacies?

MARCO and GIUSEPPE.

MAR. For every one who feels inclined, Some post we undertake to find Congenial with his frame of mind-- And all shall equal be.

GIU. The Chancellor in his peruke-- The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook, The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook-- They all shall equal be.

MAR. The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts-- The Aristocrat who hunts and shoots-- The Aristocrat who cleans our boots-- They all shall equal be!

GIU. The n.o.ble Lord who rules the State-- The n.o.ble Lord who cleans the plate--

MAR. The n.o.ble Lord who scrubs the grate-- They all shall equal be!

GIU. The Lord High Bishop orthodox-- The Lord High Coachman on the box--

MAR. The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks-- They all shall equal be!

BOTH. For every one, etc.

Sing high, sing low, Wherever they go, They all shall equal be!

CHORUS. Sing high, sing low, Wherever they go, They all shall equal be!

The Earl, the Marquis, and the Dook, The Groom, the Butler, and the Cook, The Aristocrat who banks with Coutts, The Aristocrat who cleans the boots, The n.o.ble Lord who rules the State, The n.o.ble Lord who scrubs the grate, The Lord High Bishop orthodox, The Lord High Vagabond in the stocks--

For every one, etc.

Sing high, sing low, Wherever they go, They all shall equal be!

Then hail! O King, Whichever you may be, To you we sing, But do not bend the knee.

Then hail! O King.

MARCO and GIUSEPPE (together).

Come, let's away--our island crown awaits me-- Conflicting feelings rend my soul apart!

The thought of Royal dignity elates me, But leaving thee behind me breaks my heart!

(Addressing Gianetta and Tessa.)

GIANETTA and TESSA (together).

Farewell, my love; on board you must be getting; But while upon the sea you gaily roam, Remember that a heart for thee is fretting-- The tender little heart you've left at home!

GIA. Now, Marco dear, My wishes hear: While you're away It's understood You will be good And not too gay.

To every trace Of maiden grace You will be blind, And will not glance By any chance On womankind!

If you are wise, You'll shut your eyes Till we arrive, And not address A lady less Than forty-five.

You'll please to frown On every gown That you may see; And, O my pet, You won't forget You've married me!

And O my darling, O my pet, Whatever else you may forget, In yonder isle beyond the sea, Do not forget you've married me!

TESS. You'll lay your head Upon your bed At set of sun.

You will not sing Of anything To any one.

You'll sit and mope All day, I hope, And shed a tear Upon the life Your little wife Is pa.s.sing here.

And if so be You think of me, Please tell the moon!

I'll read it all In rays that fall On the lagoon: You'll be so kind As tell the wind How you may be, And send me words By little birds To comfort me!

And O my darling, O my pet, Whatever else you may forget, In yonder isle beyond the sea, Do not forget you've married me!

QUARTET. Oh my darling, O my pet, etc.

CHORUS (during which a "Xebeque" is hauled alongside the quay.)

Then away we go to an island fair That lies in a Southern sea: We know not where, and we don't much care, Wherever that isle may be.

THE MEN (hauling on boat).

One, two, three, Haul!

One, two, three, Haul!

One, two, three, Haul!

With a will!

ALL. When the breezes are a-blowing The ship will be going, When they don't we shall all stand still!

Then away we go to an island fair, We know not where, and we don't much care, Wherever that isle may be.

SOLO--MARCO.

Away we go To a balmy isle, Where the roses blow All the winter while.