50 bab ballads(50篇巴布歌谣)

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Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Fifty "Bab" Ballads -

Much Sound and Little

Sense

W. S. Gilbert

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

PREFACE.

THE "BAB BALLADS" appeared originally in the columns of "FUN,"

when that periodical was under the editorship of the late TOM HOOD.

They were subsequently republished in two volumes, one called "THE

BAB BALLADS," the other "MORE BAB BALLADS." The period

during which they were written extended over some three or four years;

many, however, were composed hastily, and under the discomforting

necessity of having to turn out a quantity of lively verse by a certain day in

every week. As it seemed to me (and to others) that the volumes were

disfigured by the presence of these hastily written impostors, I thought it

better to withdraw from both volumes such Ballads as seemed to show

evidence of carelessness or undue haste, and to publish the remainder in

the compact form under which they are now presented to the reader.

It may interest some to know that the first of the series, "The Yarn of

the NANCY BELL," was originally offered to "PUNCH," - to which I was,

at that time, an occasional contributor. It was, however, declined by the

then Editor, on the ground that it was "too cannibalistic for his readers'

tastes."

W. S. GILBERT.

24 THE BOLTONS, SOUTH KENSINGTON, AUGUST, 1876.

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Ballad: CAPTAIN REECE.

OF all the ships upon the blue, No ship contained a better crew Than

that of worthy CAPTAIN REECE, Commanding of THE

MANTELPIECE.

He was adored by all his men, For worthy CAPTAIN REECE, R.N.,

Did all that lay within him to Promote the comfort of his crew.

If ever they were dull or sad, Their captain danced to them like mad,

Or told, to make the time pass by, Droll legends of his infancy.

A feather bed had every man, Warm slippers and hot-water can, Brown

windsor from the captain's store, A valet, too, to every four.

Did they with thirst in summer burn, Lo, seltzogenes at every turn,

And on all very sultry days Cream ices handed round on trays.

Then currant wine and ginger pops Stood handily on all the "tops;"

And also, with amusement rife, A "Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life."

New volumes came across the sea From MISTER MUDIE'S libraree;

THE TIMES and SATURDAY REVIEW Beguiled the leisure of the crew.

Kind-hearted CAPTAIN REECE, R.N., Was quite devoted to his men;

In point of fact, good CAPTAIN REECE Beatified THE MANTELPIECE.

One summer eve, at half-past ten, He said (addressing all his men):

"Come, tell me, please, what I can do To please and gratify my crew.

"By any reasonable plan I'll make you happy if I can; My own

convenience count as NIL: It is my duty, and I will."

Then up and answered WILLIAM LEE (The kindly captain's coxswain

he, A nervous, shy, low-spoken man), He cleared his throat and thus

began:

"You have a daughter, CAPTAIN REECE, Ten female cousins and a

niece, A Ma, if what I'm told is true, Six sisters, and an aunt or two.

"Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me, More friendly-like we all should

be, If you united of 'em to Unmarried members of the crew.

"If you'd ameliorate our life, Let each select from them a wife; And as

for nervous me, old pal, Give me your own enchanting gal!"

Good CAPTAIN REECE, that worthy man, Debated on his coxswain's

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

plan: "I quite agree," he said, "O BILL; It is my duty, and I will.

"My daughter, that enchanting gurl, Has just been promised to an Earl,

And all my other familee To peers of various degree.

"But what are dukes and viscounts to The happiness of all my crew?

The word I gave you I'll fulfil; It is my duty, and I will.

"As you desire it shall befall, I'll settle thousands on you all, And I

shall be, despite my hoard, The only bachelor on board."

The boatswain of THE MANTELPIECE, He blushed and spoke to

CAPTAIN REECE: "I beg your honour's leave," he said; "If you would

wish to go and wed,

"I have a widowed mother who Would be the very thing for you - She

long has loved you from afar: She washes for you, CAPTAIN R."

The Captain saw the dame that day - Addressed her in his playful way

- "And did it want a wedding ring? It was a tempting ickle sing!

"Well, well, the chaplain I will seek, We'll all be married this day week

At yonder church upon the hill; It is my duty, and I will!"

The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece, And widowed Ma of CAPTAIN

REECE, Attended there as they were bid; It was their duty, and they did.

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Ballad: THE RIVAL CURATES.

LIST while the poet trolls Of MR. CLAYTON HOOPER, Who had a

cure of souls At Spiffton-extra-Sooper.

He lived on curds and whey, And daily sang their praises, And then

he'd go and play With buttercups and daisies.

Wild croquet HOOPER banned, And all the sports of Mammon, He

warred with cribbage, and He exorcised backgammon.

His helmet was a glance That spoke of holy gladness; A saintly smile

his lance; His shield a tear of sadness.

His Vicar smiled to see This armour on him buckled: With pardonable

glee He blessed himself and chuckled.

"In mildness to abound My curate's sole design is; In all the country

round There's none so mild as mine is!"

And HOOPER, disinclined His trumpet to be blowing, Yet didn't think

you'd find A milder curate going.

A friend arrived one day At Spiffton-extra-Sooper, And in this

shameful way He spoke to Mr. HOOPER:

"You think your famous name For mildness can't be shaken, That none

can blot your fame - But, HOOPER, you're mistaken!

"Your mind is not as blank As that of HOPLEY PORTER, Who holds

a curate's rank At Assesmilk-cum-Worter.

"HE plays the airy flute, And looks depressed and blighted, Doves

round about him 'toot,' And lambkins dance delighted.

"HE labours more than you At worsted work, and frames it; In old

maids' albums, too, Sticks seaweed - yes, and names it!"

The tempter said his say, Which pierced him like a needle - He

summoned straight away His sexton and his beadle.

(These men were men who could Hold liberal opinions: On Sundays

they were good - On week-days they were minions.)

"To HOPLEY PORTER go, Your fare I will afford you - Deal him a

deadly blow, And blessings shall reward you.

"But stay - I do not like Undue assassination, And so before you strike,

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Make this communication:

"I'll give him this one chance - If he'll more gaily bear him, Play

croquet, smoke, and dance, I willingly will spare him."

They went, those minions true, To Assesmilk-cum-Worter, And told

their errand to The REVEREND HOPLEY PORTER.

"What?" said that reverend gent, "Dance through my hours of leisure?

Smoke? - bathe myself with scent? - Play croquet? Oh, with pleasure!

"Wear all my hair in curl? Stand at my door and wink - so - At every

passing girl? My brothers, I should think so!

"For years I've longed for some Excuse for this revulsion: Now that

excuse has come - I do it on compulsion!!!"

He smoked and winked away - This REVEREND HOPLEY PORTER

- The deuce there was to pay At Assesmilk-cum-Worter.

And HOOPER holds his ground, In mildness daily growing - They

think him, all around, The mildest curate going.

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Ballad: ONLY A DANCING GIRL.

ONLY a dancing girl, With an unromantic style, With borrowed colour

and curl, With fixed mechanical smile, With many a hackneyed wile, With

ungrammatical lips, And corns that mar her trips.

Hung from the "flies" in air, She acts a palpable lie, She's as little a

fairy there As unpoetical I! I hear you asking, Why - Why in the world I

sing This tawdry, tinselled thing?

No airy fairy she, As she hangs in arsenic green From a highly

impossible tree In a highly impossible scene (Herself not over-clean). For

fays don't suffer, I'm told, From bunions, coughs, or cold.

And stately dames that bring Their daughters there to see, Pronounce

the "dancing thing" No better than she should be, With her skirt at her

shameful knee, And her painted, tainted phiz: Ah, matron, which of us is?

(And, in sooth, it oft occurs That while these matrons sigh, Their

dresses are lower than hers, And sometimes half as high; And their hair is

hair they buy, And they use their glasses, too, In a way she'd blush to do.)

But change her gold and green For a coarse merino gown, And see her

upon the scene Of her home, when coaxing down Her drunken father's

frown, In his squalid cheerless den: She's a fairy truly, then!

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Ballad: TO A LITTLE MAID - BY

A POLICEMAN.

COME with me, little maid, Nay, shrink not, thus afraid - I'll harm thee

not! Fly not, my love, from me - I have a home for thee - A fairy grot,

Where mortal eye Can rarely pry, There shall thy dwelling be!

List to me, while I tell The pleasures of that cell, Oh, little maid! What

though its couch be rude, Homely the only food Within its shade? No

thought of care Can enter there, No vulgar swain intrude!

Come with me, little maid, Come to the rocky shade I love to sing;

Live with us, maiden rare - Come, for we "want" thee there, Thou elfin

thing, To work thy spell, In some cool cell In stately Pentonville!

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

Ballad: THE TROUBADOUR.

A TROUBADOUR he played Without a castle wall, Within, a hapless

maid Responded to his call.

"Oh, willow, woe is me! Alack and well-a-day! If I were only free I'd

hie me far away!"

Unknown her face and name, But this he knew right well, The

maiden's wailing came From out a dungeon cell.

A hapless woman lay Within that dungeon grim - That fact, I've heard

him say, Was quite enough for him.

"I will not sit or lie, Or eat or drink, I vow, Till thou art free as I, Or I

as pent as thou."

Her tears then ceased to flow, Her wails no longer rang, And tuneful in

her woe The prisoned maiden sang:

"Oh, stranger, as you play, I recognize your touch; And all that I can

say Is, thank you very much."

He seized his clarion straight, And blew thereat, until A warden oped

the gate. "Oh, what might be your will?"

"I've come, Sir Knave, to see The master of these halls: A maid

unwillingly Lies prisoned in their walls."'

With barely stifled sigh That porter drooped his head, With teardrops

in his eye, "A many, sir," he said.

He stayed to hear no more, But pushed that porter by, And shortly

stood before SIR HUGH DE PECKHAM RYE.

SIR HUGH he darkly frowned, "What would you, sir, with me?" The

troubadour he downed Upon his bended knee.

"I've come, DE PECKHAM RYE, To do a Christian task; You ask me

what would I? It is not much I ask.

"Release these maidens, sir, Whom you dominion o'er - Particularly

her Upon the second floor.

"And if you don't, my lord" - He here stood bolt upright, And tapped a

tailor's sword - "Come out, you cad, and fight!"

SIR HUGH he called - and ran The warden from the gate: "Go, show

Fifty "Bab" Ballads - Much Sound and Little Sense

this gentleman The maid in Forty-eight."

By many a cell they past, And stopped at length before A portal, bolted

fast: The man unlocked the door.

He called inside the gate With coarse and brutal shout, "Come, step it,

Forty-eight!" And Forty-eight stepped out.

"They gets it pretty hot, The maidens what we cotch - Two years this

lady's got For collaring a wotch."

"Oh, ah! - indeed - I see," The troubadour exclaimed - "If I may make

so free, How is this castle named?

The warden's eyelids fill, And sighing, he replied, "Of gloomy

Pentonville This is the female side!"

The minstrel did not wait The Warden stout to thank, But recollected

straight He'd business at the Bank.

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摘要：

Fifty"Bab"Ballads-MuchSoundandLittleSense1Fifty"Bab"Ballads-MuchSoundandLittleSenseW.S.GilbertFifty"Bab"Ballads-MuchSoundandLittleSense2PREFACE.THE"BABBALLADS"appearedoriginallyinthecolumnsof"FUN,"whenthatperiodicalwasundertheeditorshipofthelateTOMHOOD.Theyweresubsequentlyrepublishedintwovolumes,one...

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