P. G. Wodehouse
I suppose the fundamental distinction between Shakespeare and
myself is one of treatment. We get our effects differently. Take the
familiar farcical situation of the man who suddenly discovers that
something unpleasant is standing behind him. Here is how Shakespeare
handles it (The Winter's Tale, Act 3, Scene 3).
A lullaby too rough. I never saw
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!
Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:
I am gone for ever.
(Exit pursued by a bear.)''
``Touch of indigestion, Jeeves?''
``Then why is your tummy rumbling?''
``Pardon me, Sir, the noise to which you allude does not emanate
from my interior but from that of that animal that has just joined
``Animal? What animal?''
``A bear, Sir. If you will turn your head, you will observe that a
bear is standing in your immediate rear inspecting you in a somewhat
I pivoted the loaf. The honest fellow was perfectly correct. It was
a bear. And not a small bear, either. One of the large economy
size. Its eye was bleak and it gnashed a tooth or two, and I could see
at a g. that it was going to be difficult for me to find a formula.
``Advise me, Jeeves,'' I yipped. ``What do I do for the best?''
``I fancy it might be judicious if you were to make an exit, Sir.''
No sooner s. than d. I streaked for the horizon, closely followed
across country by the dumb chum. And that, boys and girls, is how your
grandfather clipped six seconds off Roger Bannister's mile.
Who can say which method is superior?
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