Instead of "Come, where is this young----?"
This man of bone and brawn,
He squares himself and bellows: "Time!
Fetch your _Orlandos_ on!"
"Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man,"
Fair _Rosalind_ said she,
As the two wrestlers in the ring
Grapple right furiously;
But _Charles the Wrestler_ had no sense
Of dramatic propriety.
He seized on Mr. Romeo Jones,
In Graeco-Roman style:
He got what they call a grape-vine lock
On that leading juvenile;
He flung him into the orchestra,
And the man with the ophicleide,
On whom he fell, he just said--well,
No matter what--and died!
When once the tiger has tasted blood
And found that it is sweet,
He has a habit of killing more
Than he can possibly eat.
And thus it was with the Hunky Kid;
In his homicidal blindness,
He lifted his hand against _Rosalind_
Not in the way of kindness;
He chased poor _Celia_ off at L.,
At R.U.E. _Le Beau_,
And he put such a head upon _Duke Fred_,
In fifteen seconds or so,
That never one of the courtly train
Might his haughty master know.
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