---

William Schwenck Gilbert - An Unfortunate Likeness
Work rating: Low

I`VE painted SHAKESPEARE all my life -
"An infant" (even then at "play"!)
"A boy," with stage-ambition rife,
Then "Married to ANN HATHAWAY."

"The bard`s first ticket night" (or "ben."),
His "First appearance on the stage,"
His "Call before the curtain" - then
"Rejoicings when he came of age."

The bard play-writing in his room,
The bard a humble lawyer`s clerk.
The bard a lawyer (3) - parson (4) - groom (5) -
The bard deer-stealing, after dark.

The bard a tradesman (6) - and a Jew (7) -
The bard a botanist (8) - a beak (9) -
The bard a skilled musician (10) too -
A sheriff (11) and a surgeon (12) eke!

Yet critics say (a friendly stock)
That, though it`s evident I try,
Yet even I can barely mock
The glimmer of his wondrous eye!

One morning as a work I framed,
There passed a person, walking hard:
"My gracious goodness," I exclaimed,
"How very like my dear old bard!

"Oh, what a model he would make!"
I rushed outside - impulsive me! -
"Forgive the liberty I take,
But you`re so very" - "Stop!" said he.

"You needn`t waste your breath or time, -
I know what you are going to say, -
That you`re an artist, and that I`m
Remarkably like SHAKESPEARE.  Eh?

"You wish that I would sit to you?"
I clasped him madly round the waist,
And breathlessly replied, "I do!"
"All right," said he, "but please make haste."

I led him by his hallowed sleeve,
And worked away at him apace,
I painted him till dewy eve, -
There never was a nobler face!

"Oh, sir," I said, "a fortune grand
Is yours, by dint of merest chance, -
To sport HIS brow at second-hand,
To wear HIS cast-off countenance!

"To rub HIS eyes whene`er they ache -
To wear HIS baldness ere you`re old -
To clean HIS teeth when you awake -
To blow HIS nose when you`ve a cold!"

His eyeballs glistened in his eyes -
I sat and watched and smoked my pipe;
"Bravo!" I said, "I recognize
The phrensy of your prototype!"

His scanty hair he wildly tore:
"That`s right," said I, "it shows your breed."
He danced - he stamped - he wildly swore -
"Bless me, that`s very fine indeed!"

"Sir," said the grand Shakesperian boy
(Continuing to blaze away),
"You think my face a source of joy;
That shows you know not what you say.

"Forgive these yells and cellar-flaps:
I`m always thrown in some such state
When on his face well-meaning chaps
This wretched man congratulate.

"For, oh! this face - this pointed chin -
This nose - this brow - these eyeballs too,
Have always been the origin
Of all the woes I ever knew!

"If to the play my way I find,
To see a grand Shakesperian piece,
I have no rest, no ease of mind
Until the author`s puppets cease.

"Men nudge each other - thus - and say,
`This certainly is SHAKESPEARE`S son,`
And merry wags (of course in play)
Cry `Author!` when the piece is done.

"In church the people stare at me,
Their soul the sermon never binds;
I catch them looking round to see,
And thoughts of SHAKESPEARE fill their minds.

"And sculptors, fraught with cunning wile,
Who find it difficult to crown
A bust with BROWN`S insipid smile,
Or TOMKINS`S unmannered frown,

"Yet boldly make my face their own,
When (oh, presumption!) they require
To animate a paving-stone
With SHAKESPEARE`S intellectual fire.

"At parties where young ladies gaze,
And I attempt to speak my joy,
`Hush, pray,` some lovely creature says,
`The fond illusion don`t destroy!`

"Whene`er I speak, my soul is wrung
With these or some such whisperings:
``Tis pity that a SHAKESPEARE`S tongue
Should say such un-Shakesperian things!`

"I should not thus be criticised
Had I a face of common wont:
Don`t envy me - now, be advised!"
And, now I think of it, I don`t!
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.