Here you will find the Poem The Pantomime Super to His Mask of poet William Schwenck Gilbert
Vast empty shell! Impertinent, preposterous abortion! With vacant stare, And ragged hair, And every feature out of all proportion! Embodiment of echoing inanity! Excellent type of simpering insanity! Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity! I ring thy knell! To-night thou diest, Beast that destroy'st my heaven-born identity! Nine weeks of nights, Before the lights, Swamped in thine own preposterous nonentity, I've been ill-treated, cursed, and thrashed diurnally, Credited for the smile you wear externally - I feel disposed to smash thy face, infernally, As there thou liest! I've been thy brain: I'VE been the brain that lit thy dull concavity! The human race Invest MY face With thine expression of unchecked depravity, Invested with a ghastly reciprocity, I'VE been responsible for thy monstrosity, I, for thy wanton, blundering ferocity - But not again! 'T is time to toll Thy knell, and that of follies pantomimical: A nine weeks' run, And thou hast done All thou canst do to make thyself inimical. Adieu, embodiment of all inanity! Excellent type of simpering insanity! Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity! Freed is thy soul! (THE MASK RESPONDETH.) Oh! master mine, Look thou within thee, ere again ill-using me. Art thou aware Of nothing there Which might abuse thee, as thou art abusing me? A brain that mourns THINE unredeemed rascality? A soul that weeps at THY threadbare morality? Both grieving that THEIR individuality Is merged in thine?