Show me the boy ...

A speech that Shakespeare, as a boy, might have delivered as he was slaughtering a calf

Friends, townsmen, fellow citizens – rejoice!

I plied no sword, sai, scimitar or knife

To cull this cowering creature. Nay, by choice

With but a bodkin bare I took its life.

Thou shalt not hear me whimper, ‘Out, dammed spot!’

Nor shall I stain my soul with needless curse.

This peeled and precious calf’s hide, hide I not

But here display what shall be belt or purse.

Thus in obeisance to my father’s trade,

From bloody pelt and skin, once truly tanned,

Shall finest gloves and leather goods be made

To be admired by all throughout the land.

If you have tears to shed, shed not them now!

This noblest pound of flesh by death reclaimed

Would, had it lived, one day become a cow,

And cows, ‘tis known, like shrews cannot be tamed.