Patch: Does yer majesty need a new 'igh chancellor. I asks yer fer it. I wants a fine house in London town, runnin' ter the Strand, and peacocks struttin' in the garden.
Captain: King, I asks yer ter cast yer gig on me. I 'd be a right smart Archbishop o' Canterbury. Me whiskers is 'clesiastical.
Duke: I offers meself, King, as Lord 'Igh Admiral o' the Navy. I swears fluent.
Darlin': Has yer a Princess vacant? I lolls graceful on a throne. (The horrid creature spits.)
Captain: 'Vast there, me hearties! I 'm thinkin' I 'm hearin' the sound o' footsteps.
Duke: (to Patch). Did yer lordship hear any sound?
Patch: Askin' your Grice's pardon, I did n't ketch a thing. Did you hear anythin', Princess?
Darlin': There 's nothin' come ter me pearly ears.
Captain: Silence! I wants ter listen.
(No sound is heard.)