歌词
HELENA
Thank God for that! The sheep has been sheared!
I don't know how men live through heat with a beard.
Gladly I shed this tent of a coat.
My explanation I now emote:
My motive in taking this role
Of a wigged and white-whiskered soul
Was to ably disguise
My most feminine size
When I'd take an enquiring stroll.
For strangers who'll chat with a chap,
And reveal this and that in a snap,
Are remarkably leery
Of women who query too much.
It's a great handicap.
So this disguise saw me through it,
Playing the part of a man!
Really there's nothing much to it--
Most any animal can!
Climbing out on a limerick, out on a limerick,
Out on a limerick air!
I found a theatrical kit,
And as Datchery I did my bit
So to clear Neville's name,
I confess to my shame,
'Twas for vengance as well, I admit.
I followed John Jasper high-low,
Found the dens he descends to below,
And when Puffer came here
'Twas immediately clear
My suspicions were quite apropos.
So I crept in the lodgings of Jasper,
Dressed in that wig, what a sight!
There I found Rosa Bud's clasp, her
Mother's she gave Drood that night.
Jasper took it from Ned after hurling him dead
Tward the weir riverbed, I suppose.
"Helena Datchery" knows!
And the proof is quite clear,
Let us bring Jasper here
To be tried then tied up and strung!
And from this Limerick, Let him be hung!