The Soliloquy (as ad-libbed by Bertie Wooster):
Well, I am dashed if I know whether I can go on like this or not.
I mean, is it better, do you think, to put up with being plagued by Aunts, and what not,
Or to put up a bit of a fight, and stop the whole bally lot?
A chap could do with a nice long lie-in,
At least if by that you mean put a stop to all the nonsense and bother you seem to get nowadays.
It’d be jolly nice, I think!
Well, so long as you don’t get nightmares, I suppose.
I daresay it’s the thought of dreaming about Aunt Agatha forever
That makes chaps like me carry on the way we do.
I mean, who would stand for this tosh –
You know, being oppressed by elderly females,
Having butlers look down their nose at you,
Getting the brush-off from Madeline Basset
(Even if she does think the stars are God’s daisy-chain),
Getting thirty days without the option
Just for relieving a policeman of his helmet on Boat Race night,
And getting a pi-jaw from the magistrate,
Not to mention the underhanded behaviour of Bingo Little at the Drones last week –
If you could get out of it as easily as that?
I mean, I don’t actually have to work for a living,
But it beats me why chaps do,
Bearing fardels and what have you
(What is a fardel? Jeeves would know)
If it wasn’t for the dashed inconvenient fact that if you get off the bus, so to speak,
You don’t know what stop you’ll be at.
It’s not as if anyone ever gets on again.
Tricky things, consciences, and liable to turn you bright yellow
When faced with the choice of carrying on or jumping off into goodness knows what.
I mean, I’m as resolute as the next man, and not given to thinking much,
But even I wobble a bit when up against that kind of thing,
And tend to dither and bug my eyes out (they tell me) and achieve very little, really.
– Stop a minute, Ophelia’s coming! What-ho!!