"Very well, indeed, thank you. I am willing to commend him," Ralph returns.
"Ah—that is delightful—and so, with your permission, Captain, I will have a word with you in private on a very sentimental subject—in short, upon an affair of the heart."
"With joy, Sir Joseph—and, Boatswain, in honour of this occasion, see that extra grog is served to the crew at seven bells."
"I will condescend to do so," the Boatswain assures the Captain, whereupon the Captain, Sir Joseph, and his sisters and his cousins and his aunts leave the deck.
"You all seem to think a deal on yourselves," Dick Deadeye growls, as he watches these performances.
"We do, we do—aren't we British sailors? Doesn't the entire universe depend on us for its existence? We are fine fellows—Sir Joseph has just told us so."
"Yes—we may aspire to anything—" Ralph interpolates excitedly. He had begun to think that Josephine may not be so unattainable after all.
"The devil you can," responds Dick. "Only I wouldn't let myself get a-going if I were you. What if ye got going and couldn't stop?" the one-eyed gentleman inquires solicitously.
"Oh, stow it!" the crew shouts. "If we hadn't more self-respect 'n you've got, we'd put out both our eyes," the estimable crew declares, and then retires to compliment itself,—that is, all but Ralph. He leans upon the bulwark and looks pensive; and at intervals he sighs. While he is sighing his very loudest, Josephine enters. Sir Joseph has been making love to her, and she is telling herself and everybody who happens to be leaning against the bulwark sighing pensively, that the Admiral's attentions oppress her. This is Ralph's opportunity. He immediately tells her that he loves her, and she tells him to "refrain, audacious tar," but he does not refrain in the least. In short he decides upon the spot to blow out his brains. He pipes all hands on deck to see him do it, and they come gladly.
Now Ralph gets out his pistol, he sings a beautiful farewell, the Chorus turns away weeping—the sailors have just cleaned up and they cannot bear the sight of the deck all spoiled with a British sailor's brains so soon after scrubbing! Ralph lifts the pistol, takes aim—and Josephine rushes on.