Whereupon Bloat leaps from the bed and seeks to enlighten Slothrop with a song: THE ENGLISHMAN’S VERY SHY (FOX-TROT) (Bloat): The Englishman’s very shy, He’s none of your Ca-sa-no-va, At bowling the ladies o-ver, A-mericans lead the pack— (Tantivy): —You see, your Englishman tends to lack That recklessness transatlantic, That women find so romantic Though frankly I can’t see why . . . (Bloat): The polygamous Yank with his girls galore Gives your Brit-ish rake or carouser fits, (Tantivy): Though he’s secretly held in re-ve-rent awe As a sort of e-rot-ic Clausewitz. . . . (Together):
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