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Bluebeard A maiden from the Bosporus, with eyes as bright as phosphorus, Once wed the mighty bailiff of the caliph of Kelat. Though diligent and zealous, he was somewhat prone to jealousy, (Considering her beauty, 'twas his duty to be that!) cho: Yuazuram, oh yuazuram, Glory hallelujah, yuazuram. It might be mentioned, casually, that blue as lapuz lazuli, He dyed his lips, his lashes, his mustaches and his beard. And, just because he did it, he aroused his wife's timidity; Her terror she dissembled, yet she trembled when he neared. This feeling insalubrious soon made her most lugubrious, And bitterly she missed her elder sister, Marie Anne; She asked if she might write her to come down and spend a night or two, And Bluebeard answered rightly and politely, "yes, you can!" When business would necessitate a journey, he would hesitate, But, fearing to mistrust her, he would trust her with the keys, Bidding her most prayerfully, "I beg you'll use them carefully. Don't look what I deposit in the closet, if you please." Bluebeard, the Monday following, his jealous feeling swallowing, Packed all his clothes together in a leather-bound valise, And, feigning business, sensibly, he started out, ostensibly By traveling to learn a bit of Smyrna and of Greece. His wife made but a cursory inspection of the nursery, The kitchen and the airy little dairy were a bore, Likewise the large and scanty rooms, the billiard, bath, and ante-rooms, But not that interdicted and restricted little door! At last, her curiosity awakened by the closet he So carefully had hidden, and forbidden her to see, This damsel disobedient did something inexpedient, And in the keyhole tiny turned the shiny little key. She shrieked aloud convulsively and started back repulsively Ten heads of girls he'd wedded and beheaded met her eye! And turning 'round, most terrified, her darkest fears were verified, For Bluebeard stood behind her, come to find her on the sly! Perceiving she was fated to be soon decapitated, too, She telegraphed her brothers and some others what she feared. And Sister Anne looked out for them, in readiness to shout for them Whenever in the distance with assistance they appeared. But only from the battlement she saw some dust that cattle meant. The ordinary story isn't gory, it's a jest! For here's the truth unqualified, her husband wasn't mollified Her head is in his bloody little study with the rest ! Note: I don't know who wrote this, but it sounds like Newman Levy. Anybody know? RG RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!