His fame we glorify, glorify from pole to pole! Old King Cole was a merry old soul, A merry old soul was he; He's the greatest king in the wide, wide world, King Cole. Oh! bring me my pipe, And bring me my glass, And bring me my fiddlers three times three. Chorus. Oh! bring him his pipe, And bring him his glass, And bring him his fiddlers three times three. Ah! And high diddle diddle the cat's in the fiddle, 4 AND 20 BLACKBIRDS. Chorus. 4 and 20 blackbirds baked in a pie, Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king, Jill. Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, 4 and 20 blackbirds baked in a pie; When the pie was open, the birds began to sing, Was'nt that a dainty dish, to set before a king, Put yourself in his place and see what you would say, If you saw your dinner arise and fly away; I imagine you would do the very same as he, Order that the cook at once beheaded be. A GREAT BIG A, A LITTE а, AND BOUNCING B. Jill. Oh! great big A, and little a, and bouncing B, You know the mice will play, So let us all enjoy ourselves without delay. Chorus. Come, now, come, tell us what you will, We are comparatively still. Why, simply, Jill. The king is in the counting room, at least, he ought to be, And nobody can bother us, that I can see. Chorus repeats. King Cole. I am shocked and deeply grieved, I'm astonished, in fact dumbfounded, To act in such a way Is enough to make me tear my hair. Jack. Great monarch, I m aware that any explanation That we have erred, "Twould be absurd For us to seek to deny, But if you'll hear With pitying ear, To explain our act we'll try. QUARTETTE. Jack, Eugene, Jill, Mary.. Not a moment claiming What we've done is right, Justified in blaming, We confess you 're quite ; Love it was that led us, His is all the blame, Torture or behead us Our reply 's the same. Ensemble. For love we've dared, For love alone, For love alone, And be your verdict What it may ; Yes, what it may, We yield to Cupid's law alone, And only recognize his sway, While waters run and skies above are blue, Our love shall ever stronger grow, So come what will affection true Shall welcome fate's unkindest blow. Madam P. You hear them, the wretches, They boast of what they've done. My patience it stretches; I'll hang them every one. Sprat. The warning I gave you, It had been wise to heed. King Cole. There's nothing can save you; Sprat. I pity you indeed. King Cole. Attend and listen to my sentence, Chorus. Oh, mercy rare. King. But while this clemency I'm showing, My wrath you students shall be knowing, I banish all. Chorus. This just we call. They are getting off most cheaply; They must feel his kindness deeply; Rarely is experienced now. King Cole. With ball and chain inflicted, All pleasure interdicted, You'll stay a year Until I hear New leaves you've all turned over. Chorus. Repeat. King. My Grenadiers shall guard you, Tobacco be debarred you, Until I've learned You've freedom earned, Once more to be a rover. Yes, freedom again to become a careless rover. Repeat. Chorus. Madam P. Anticipate a wretched fate, Your doom I now pronounce, Sweet P's. Have mercy we implore you! Madam P. No novels new shall meet your view, But darning socks and mending frocks Street P's. Have mercy we implore you! Eugene (spoken.) Can nothing move you? King (spoken.) Not a thing-not a thing. Jack. Then bring on your grenadiers, With their sabres and their spears, And their bullets that are made of lead, lead, lead; Conduct us to the fort, For we deem it only sport, This sentence so terrific that you've read, read, read; Although we're far away, With Cupid for our friend, we'll laugh at you, you, you; And though we dwell apart, Each fond and loving heart, Shall ever to the one we love be true, true, true. Chorus. Bring on your guards, Your grenadier guards, Bring on your guards, I say. Faithful and true, Constant and true, Time cannot weaken our love for you; Faithful and true Constant and true, Time cannot weaken our love for you; Our love for you, Our love for you. |