Last night I dreamed of Mandalay again.
On dank November evenings, wet with rain.
That gothic pile, the foremost of its class;
(That means a hideous, gross pain in the ass."
'Twas here Jane Eyre and Rochester's affairs
Took place, while mad wife Thrashed arouned upstairs,
And Heathcliffe chased his Kate across the moors,
Through rain which then as now forever pours.
And here's where Lorna's ghastly gang of Doones,
Would creep to pilfer silver knives and spoons,
But now the place is visited by few,
But ponies shelt'ring from the evening dew.
'Twas here that hunchback king, old Dickie Three,
From battle weary, came to make his plea:
At door he halts, like Quasi rings the bells,
And when Rebecca answers, this he yells:
"A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse~!"
Rebecca sneers in tones exceeding coarse:
"Ain't got no nags, but out there in the yard,
I'll let you borrow Fred, our Saint Bernard."
So mounting up They trot through pouring rain,
His majesty too weary too complain.
But Becky's husband mutters in a hiss:
"To send a knight out on a dog like this!"
* * *
The opening line is also the first line of Daphne du Maurier's novel Rebecca. It would have been more poetic to have rearranged it a bit, but as you can see from later verses, accuracy is paramount.
Daph isn't to be confused with George du Maurier, who wrote "Trilby", which is a hat which Merkins call a derby, pronounced durby; not to be confused with the English pronunciation, darby, which is a horse race and half of the stereotypical old couple Darby and Joan, which the Merkins call by different names.
One might despair of all this were it not for the fact that one can use such differences to advantage, as in the pronunciation of Bernard, which I have employed in a Merkin fashion so as to maintain the meter; not to be confused with metre, .... and so ad nauseam.
Parodies: usually with more bearing on the original than this....
Monday, March 21, 2005