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William Schwenck Gilbert - Ben Allah Achmet, or, the Fatal Tum
Work rating: Medium

I once did know a Turkish man
Whom I upon a two-pair-back met,
His name it was EFFENDI KHAN
BACKSHEESH PASHA BEN ALLAH ACHMET.

A DOCTOR BROWN I also knew -
I`ve often eaten of his bounty;
The Turk and he they lived at Hooe,
In Sussex, that delightful county!

I knew a nice young lady there,
Her name was EMILY MACPHERSON,
And though she wore another`s hair,
She was an interesting person.

The Turk adored the maid of Hooe
(Although his harem would have shocked her).
But BROWN adored that maiden too:
He was a most seductive doctor.

They`d follow her where`er she`d go -
A course of action most improper;
She neither knew by sight, and so
For neither of them cared a copper.

BROWN did not know that Turkish male,
He might have been his sainted mother:
The people in this simple tale
Are total strangers to each other.

One day that Turk he sickened sore,
And suffered agonies oppressive;
He threw himself upon the floor
And rolled about in pain excessive.

It made him moan, it made him groan,
And almost wore him to a mummy.
Why should I hesitate to own
That pain was in his little tummy?

At length a doctor came, and rung
(As ALLAH ACHMET had desired),
Who felt his pulse, looked up his tongue,
And hemmed and hawed, and then inquired:

"Where is the pain that long has preyed
Upon you in so sad a way, sir?"
The Turk he giggled, blushed, and said:
I don`t exactly like to say, sir."

"Come, nonsense!" said good DOCTOR BROWN.
"So this is Turkish coyness, is it?
You must contrive to fight it down -
Come, come, sir, please to be explicit."

The Turk he shyly bit his thumb,
And coyly blushed like one half-witted,
"The pain is in my little tum,"
He, whispering, at length admitted.

"Then take you this, and take you that -
Your blood flows sluggish in its channel -
You must get rid of all this fat,
And wear my medicated flannel.

"You`ll send for me when you`re in need -
My name is BROWN - your life I`ve saved it."
"My rival!" shrieked the invalid,
And drew a mighty sword and waved it:

"This to thy weazand, Christian pest!"
Aloud the Turk in frenzy yelled it,
And drove right through the doctor`s chest
The sabre and the hand that held it.

The blow was a decisive one,
And DOCTOR BROWN grew deadly pasty,
"Now see the mischief that you`ve done -
You Turks are so extremely hasty.

"There are two DOCTOR BROWNS in Hooe -
HE`S short and stout, I`M tall and wizen;
You`ve been and run the wrong one through,
That`s how the error has arisen."

The accident was thus explained,
Apologies were only heard now:
"At my mistake I`m really pained -
I am, indeed - upon my word now.

"With me, sir, you shall be interred,
A mausoleum grand awaits me."
"Oh, pray don`t say another word,
I`m sure that more than compensates me.

"But p`r`aps, kind Turk, you`re full inside?"
"There`s room," said he, "for any number."
And so they laid them down and died.
In proud Stamboul they sleep their slumber.
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