[The stage of the Globe. It is the 26th of April, the birthday of WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, a playwright, and he is present at a party in his honour, along with a host of INVESTORS, ACTORS, STAGEHANDS, and MINSTRELS. Two INVESTORS rise to lead a toast]
[FIRST INVESTOR]:
In Stratford-upon-Avon, years ago
The number I’ve not liberty to say
This friend and brother who we all well know
Was whelpéd! [CHEERS] A most profitable day!
[SECOND INVESTOR]:
This house majestic in which we all stand
Was verily constructed by his plume
With words like soldiers brave at his command
His conquest is all hearts within this room
[FIRST INVESTOR]
So let us say a cheer to our fair Will
I’m told the wine will be deliver’d soon
An operatic toast will fit the bill
So let musicians play a jolly tune!
[SECOND INVESTOR]
In style of future William great
My friends, let us now celebrate!
[MINSTRELS begin performing a song in the manner of SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN. SHAKESPEARE stands in the center of the stage]
[SHAKESPEARE, singing]
I am the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian
Mine narratives are complex, 'ere they knots would they be Gordian
I accent my pentameters upon th' second syllable
Producers love to stage my works, they make th' box-seats fillable
My tragedies are tragic, yea, my histories historical
My comedies most humourous, mine quatrains rather lyrical
My characters are striking, from Lord Falstaff to th' Scottish king
And if thou darest say his name, an anvil shalt fall from the wings!
[CHORUS]
And if we dareth say his name, an anvil shalt fall from the wings
And if we dareth say his name, an anvil shalt fall from the wings
[STAGEHAND, singing]
And if I dareth say "Macbeth", an anvil shalt fall…
[An anvil falls from rafters of the Globe, striking STAGEHAND]
[speaking]
What wretched curse have I brought ‘pon my head?
My foolish words betray me! Now I’m dead! [dies]
[SHAKESPEARE]
Above this stage that spirit hath long hover’d
He sowed his oats, and now he hath discover’d
[singing]
Disregarding superstitions, 'tis well known the play's the thing
Though if thou wish't to woo a woman's heart, 'tis good to stand and sing
A sonnet 'neath her window whilst thou playest the accordion
I am the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian
[CHORUS]
A sonnet 'neath her window whilst thou playest the accordion
He is the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian
[SHAKESPEARE]
Some witless knaves from Oxfordshire do allege that my catalogue
Was plagiarized from greater men, the lot of 'em are whoreson's dogs
The playwright Christoph' Marlowe, 'tis alleg'd my identity
(At least I have th' wits to not be run-through with a snickersnee!)
But I'll forgive those loathsome curs, who reek with sotted jealousy
For there's no man of Oxford who can cross words with my poetry
And though the modern wokish rogues who curseth males dead and white
They're forcéd to acknowledge that my letters are most erudite
[ACTOR, speaking]
On ‘half of actor’s union, I must stand
And utter our demands, before I’m tarr’d
And feathered. Though thy works they art most grand
For equity, we think thou must be….. bard.
[CONSTABLES arrive and drag the ACTOR offstage, to the jeers of the rest of the company]
[CHORUS]
They're forcéd to acknowledge that his letters are most erudite
They're forcéd to acknowledge that his letters are most erudite
They're forcéd to acknowledge that his letters are most erudite
[SHAKESPEARE]
My plays they do pack houses from the Globe up to Olivier
I breachéd Lady Paltrow long 'afore she 'came a Goopier
Though I'm Elizabethan I would sing like an Edwardian
I am the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian
[CHORUS]
Though he's Elizabethan, he would sing like an Edwardian
He is the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian
[FIRST INVESTOR, singing]
So if thou lik'st a tragedy which starts and ends with Fortinbras
A tale of woe where all must die before the fifth-act curtain draws
If thou art fond of bastard Edmund's bloody revenge fantasy
(Though Lady Kaede was more fair in Kurosawa's piracy!)
[SECOND INVESTOR]
If thou enjoy'st a farce wherein identity mistaken is
If thou art a man of science, like Lord Francis Bacon is
If amused by ancient oaths like "Zounds", "gadzooks!" and "by God's knee"
There's no one who can match our Will at clever bits of blasphemy!
[CHORUS]
There's no one who can match our Will at clever bits of blasphemy!
There's no one who can match our Will at clever bits of blasphemy!
There's no one who can match our Will at clever bits of blasphemy!
[SHAKESPEARE]
My literary canon is the envy of all Englishmen
Mightier than any sword, no one can duel with my pen
So whether thou art Protestant, a Roman or Discordian
I am the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian!
[CHORUS]
So whether thou art Protestant, a Roman or Discordian
He is the v'ry model of an Avonic Stratfordian!