writes a speech for Basil Fawlty
Good morrow, Major, what news of battles past,
Reunions, oft-told tales and regimental ties?
(aside) The man’s a fool and deaf as Lethe’s soundless
Waters sunk in sempiternal tacitude.
Ah, Ladies, must you be gone so soon upon
Your trysts and messages? Haply the charabanc
Awaits without. Sirrah, good morrow, the room
Is not to taste? The prospect circumscrib’d,
The lodging cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d? Pray tell
Me, sir, exactly what your fancy had envisag’d.
A wood near Athens, the bright Illyrian shore,
Or Arden’s forest dense, pack’d e’en unto
Its utmost bound with prancing unicorns?
Manuel, philosopher and sage of the Iberian
Coast, pray take in charge our noble friend,
Explain – as best thy tongue may serve –
The virtues of our hostelry, its charms—
But hark! What ghastly shrieking rends the morning
Air? ‘Basil! Basil!’ My poisoned posset, verucca
Of my heart, she-witch of wither’d dugs and venom
For her mother’s milk. I come, I come, my bride!
May Aphrodite’s chariot speed me to thy side.