Out on a Limerick

Rosa:

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 the role

Of a wigg?d and white-whiskered soul

Was to ably disguise

My most feminine size

When I’d take an inquiring 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 vengeance as well, I admit)

I followed John Jasper high-low

Found the dens he descends to below

And when he surfaced here

‘Twas immediately clear:

My suspicions were quite apropos

So I crept to the lodgings of Jasper

Dressed in this garb (what a sight!)

There I found my mother’s clasp

The one I gave Edwin that night.

Jasper took it from Ned

After hurling him dead

Towards the weir riverbed, I suppose!

Rosa Bud – Datchery – knows!

And the proof is quite clear

Let us bring Jasper here

To be tried and then tied up and strung!

And from this limerick

Let him be hung!

Neville:

Thank God for that!

I gladly unmask

To wear this coat in June

Is too great a task

There lies Dick Datch’ry

Born on a whim

We can dispense with

Last rites for him!

My motive in taking the role

Of a wigg?d and white-whiskered soul

Was to get myself back

To the city, and track

Down the culprit. With that as my goal

I had also intended to find

Just what Jasper had had on his mind

Much too eager is he

That all Cloisterham see

Me the murderer God, are they blind!

All of these people suspicious

That I had killed Edwin Drood

And with their anger so vicious

I wore this costume so crude

Stepping 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 my good name

From the blemish of blame

(‘Twas for Helena, too, 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 this garb (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

Towards the weir riverbed, I suppose!

Tell him that Datchery knows

And the proof is quite clear

Let us bring Jasper here

To be tried and then tied up and strung

And from this limerick

Let him be hung!