THREE FELLOWES WENTEN INTO A PUBBE…

bill_bailey_1

Any who, like me, first encountered Chaucer as a member of that demonic team whose express creative purpose was to blight the lives of examinees between the ages of 16 & 18 (that bastard Shakespeare was another) will enjoy the extraction of piss going on here. And those who, like me, subsequently re-discovered Chaucer as one of the all-time big hitters will enjoy the accuracy both of style and content in Bill Bailey’s glorious parody.

Three fellowes wenten into a pubbe,
And gleefullye their handes did rubbe,
In expectatione of revelrie,
For ’twas the houre known as happye.
Greate botelles of wine did they quaffe,
And hadde a reallye good laffe
Til drunkennesse held full dominione,
For ’twas two for the price of one.
Yet after wine and meade and sac,
Man must have a massive snack,
Great pasties from Cornwalle!
Scottishe eggs round like a balle!
Great hammes, quaile, ducke and geese!
They suck’d the bones and drank the grease!
(One fellowe stood all pale and wan,
For he was vegetarianne)
Yet man knoweth that gluttonie,
Stoketh the fyre of lecherie,
Upon three young wenches round and slye,
The fellowes cast a wanton eye.
One did approach, with drunkene winke
“‘Ello darlin’, you fancy a drink?”,
Soon they caught them on their knee,
‘Twas like some grotesque puppettrie!
Such was the lewdness and debaucherie –
‘Twas like a sketch by Dick Emery!
(Except that Dick Emery is not yet borne –
So such comparisonne may not be drawn).
But then the fellowes began to pale,
For quail are not the friende of ale!
And in their bellyes much confusione!
From their throats vile extrusione!
Stinking foule corruptionne!
Came spewinge forth from droolinge lippes,
The fetide stenche did fille the pubbe,
‘Twas the very arse of Beelzebubbe!
Thrown they were, from the Horne And Trumpette,
In the street, no coyne, no strumpet.
Homeward bounde, must quicklie go,
To that ende – a donkey stole!
Their handes all with vomit greased,
(The donkey was not pleased,
And threw them into a ditche of shite!)
They all agreed: “What a brilliant night!”

About Dick Jones

I'm a post-retirement Drama teacher, currently working part-time. I have a grown-up son and daughter, three grandchildren and three young children from my second marriage. I write - principally poetry but prose too, both fitfully published. My poetry collection Ancient Lights is published by Phoenicia Publishing (www.phoeniciapublishing.com) and my translation of Blaise Cendrars' 'Trans-Siberian Prosody and Little Jeanne from France' (illustrated by my friend, the artist, writer and long-time blogger Natalie d'Arbeloff) is published by Old Stile Press (www.oldstilepress.com). I play bass guitar & bouzouki in the song-based acoustic/electric trio Moorby Jones, playing entirely original material (https://www.facebook.com/moorbyjones?ref=aymt_homepage_panel + http://www.moorbyjones.net/). I have a dormant blog with posts going back to 2004 at Dick Jones' Patteran Pages - http://patteran.typepad.com - and I'm a radio ham. My callsign is G0 EUV.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to THREE FELLOWES WENTEN INTO A PUBBE…

  1. Natalie says:

    Brilliant brilliant brilliante! Thanks for this day-brightener, Dick. You must trumpette your new blogge, noboddie knowes aboot it yet! By the way, did you get my last email, sent on 6th Sept? Is something’s amiss with your mail server again?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s