Sort o' mixture of Shylock and BYRON, with bits of Othello chucked in,
Muddled up with "Chioggian wars," as seemed mostly blue fire and bright tin.
But the scenes wos 'splendiferous, CHARLIE. About arf a mile o' stage front,
With some thousands of 'eroes and supers, as seemed all the time on the 'unt.
Lor! 'ow they did scoot up and down that there stage at the double, old man,
All their legs on the waggle, like flies, and their armour a-chink as they ran!
Old Shylock turns up quite permiskus, and always upon the full trot;
He seemed mixed up with Portias, and Doges, smart gals, and the dickens knows wot.
All kep waving their arms like mad semy-phores, doin' the akrybat prank,
As if they was swimming in nothink, or 'ailing a 'bus for the Bank.