The Play by CJ Dennis
*********
'Wot's in a name? she sez...An' then she sighs
An' clasps 'er little 'ands, an' rolls 'er eyes.
'A rose,' she sez, 'be any other name
Would smell the same.
Oh, w'erefore art you, Romeo young sir?
Chuck yer ole pot, an'change yer Moniker!'
Doreen an' me, we bin to see a show -
The swell two dollar touch. Bong tong, yeh know.
A chair apiece wiv velvet on the seat;
A slap-up treat.
The drarmer's writ be Shakespear, years ago,
About a barmy goat called Romeo.
'Lady, be yonder moon I swear!' sez 'e.
An' then e' climbs up on the balkiney;
An' there they smooge a treat, wiv pretty words
Like two love-birds.
I nudge Doreen. She whispers, 'Ain't it grand!'
'Er eyes is shinin'; an I squeeze 'er 'and.
'Wot's in a name?' she sez. 'Struth I dunno.
Billo is just as good as Romeo.
She may be Juli-er or Juli-et -
'E loves 'er yet.
If she's the girl 'e wants, then she's 'is queen,
Names never count...But ar, I like 'Doreen"!
A swetter, dearer sound I never 'eard;
There's music 'angs around that little word,
Dporeen!...But wot was this I starts to say
About the play?
I'm off me beat. But when a bloke's in love
'Is thorts turns 'er way, like a 'omin' dove.
This Romeo 'e's lurkin' wiv a crew -
A dead tough crowd o' crooks - Called Montague.
'Is cliner's push - wot's nicknamed Capulet -They 'as 'em set.
Fair narks they are, jist like them back-street clicks,
Ixcep' they fight wiv skewers, 'stid o' bricks.
Wot's in a name? Wot string o' words?
they scraps in ole Verona wiv the'r swords,
An' never give a bloke a stay dogs chance,
An' that's Romance.
But when they deals it out wiv bricks an' boots
In little Lon., they're low, degraded boots.
Wot's jist plain stoush wiv us, right 'ere today,
Is 'valler' if yer fur enough away.
Some time, some writer bloke will do the trick
Wiv Ginger Mick,
Of Spadgers Lane. 'E'll be a Romeo,
When 'e's been dead five 'undred years or so.
Fair Juli-et, she gives 'er boy the tip.
Sez she: 'Don't sling that crowd of mine no lip;
An' if you run agin a Capulet,
Jist do a get.'
'E swears e's done wiv lash; 'e'll chuck it clean.
(Same as I done when I first met Doreen.)
They smooge some more at that. Ar, strike me blue!
It gimme Joes to sit and watch them two!
'E'd break away an' start to say good-bye,
An' then she'd sigh
'Ow, Ro-me-o! an' git a strangle-holt,
An' 'ang around 'im like she'd feared 'e'd bolt.
Nex' day 'e words a gorspil cove about
A secrit weddin'; an' they plan it out.
'E spouts a piece about 'ow 'e's bewitched:
Then they get 'itched...
Now 'ere's thew place where I fair get the pip.
She's 'is for keeps, an' yet 'e let's 'er slip!
Ar, but 'e makes me sick! A fair gozob!
'E's jist the glarssy on the soulful sob,
'E'll sigh and sprouik, an' 'owl like a love- sick vow -
(The silly cow!)
But when 'e's got 'er spliced an' on the straight,
'E crools the pitch, an' tries to kid it's fate.
Aw! Fate me foot! Instid of slopin' soon
As 'e was wed, off on 'is 'oneymoon,
'Im an 'is cobber, called mick Curio,
They 'ave to go
An' mix wiv that push o' Capulets.
They look fer trouble; an' it's wot they gets.
A tug named Tyball (cousin to the skirt)
Sprags 'em an' makes a start to sling some dirt.
Nex' minnit there's a reel ole ding-dong go -
'Arf a round or so.
Mick Curi, 'e gets it in the neck,
'Ar rats!' 'e sez, an' passes in 'is check.
Quite natchril, Romeo gits wet as 'ell.
'It's me or you!'. 'e 'owls, an wiv a yell,
Plunks Tyball through the gizzard wiv 'is sword.
'Ow I ongcored!
'Put in the boot!' I saez. 'Put in the boot!'
'Ush!' sez Doreen...'Shame!' sez some silly coot.
Then Romeo, 'e dunno wot to do.
The cops git busy, like they allwiz do.
An' nose around until 'e gits blue funk
An' does a bunk.
They wants 'is girl to wed some other guy.
'Ah, strike!' she sez. 'I wish that I could die!'
Now, this 'ere gorspil blok'es a fair shrewd 'ead.
Sez 'e, I'll dope yeh, so they'll think yer dead.
(I tips'e was a cunnin' sort, wot knoo A thing or too.)
She takews 'is knock-out drops, up in 'er room:
They think she's snuffed, an' plant 'er in 'er tomb.
Then things gits mixed a treat an' starts to whirl,
'Ere's Romeo comes back an' finds 'is girl
Tucked in 'er little coffing, cold an' stiff,
An in a jiff,
'E swallows lysol, throws a fancy fit,
'Ead over turkey, an' 'is soul 'as flit.
Then Juli-et wakes up an' sees 'im there,
Turns on the water-works an' tears 'er 'air,
'Dear love,' she sez, 'I cannot live alone!'
An wiv a moan,
She grabs a pocket knife, an' ends 'er cares...
'Peanuts or lollies!' sez a boy upstairs.
*******
An' you 'Merrycans sez we Aussies aint got no culturial background!...LOL
------------------
"The Gun from Down Under !"
http://www.para1911fanclub.w3.to/
E-mail hotshot_2000@hotmail.com
Alternate E-mail
HS2000@ausi.com