I feel that I've almost been bullied into having a home page. I blame it on Louise who maliciously and with malice aforethought put in a link to my very official and very dull departmental page. That's not entirely how I wish to be represented to the world at large and it isn't something I have a great deal of control over. Actually there is now a family web site that is a bit more representative too.
However, this is MY home page, OK!
If I were braver, I would include a photograph of myself at this point. Perhaps some other time...
Anyway, let me introduce myself. Contrary to popular belief, I have never been abducted by aliens. In fact I seem to split my time between various bits of foolishness including teaching anatomy, rolling dice and drinking.
That's quite important, I guess. One of my onerous responsibilities
in maintaining the Primate
Society of Great Britain's web page.
And I spend a certain amount of time digging up fossils - mostly with
Andrew Chamberlain
down in Devon, but other folk have to take their share of responsibility
too.
I should be so lucky...
And, of course, I have to admit to occasionally dressing up and beating people over the heads with rubber swords. This is a harmless activity. Trust me, I'm a doctor. I have even been known to pretend to be a vampire for extended periods.
I believe it's traditional to fill up the rest of a home page with sets of links to various interesting places. One day, maybe. It is also traditional to breach various copyright laws. This is more tempting. However I shall avoid it by making sure that the only bit of poetry I put in is rather old.
Ancien Régime.
I.
Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,
May gaze thro' these faint smokes curling whitely,
As thou pliest thy trade in this devil's-smithy---
Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?
II.
He is with her, and they know that I know
Where they are, what they do: they believe my tears flow
While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear
Empty church, to pray God in, for them!---I am here.
III.
Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste,
Pound at thy powder,---I am not in haste!
Better sit thus, and observe thy strange things,
Than go where men wait me and dance at the King's.
IV.
That in the mortar---you call it a gum?
Ah, the brave tree whence such gold oozings come!
And yonder soft phial, the exquisite blue,
Sure to taste sweetly,---is that poison too?
V.
Had I but all of them, thee and thy treasures,
What a wild crowd of invisible pleasures!
To carry pure death in an earring, a casket,
A signet, a fan-mount, a filigree basket!
VI.
Soon, at the King's, a mere lozenge to give,
And Pauline should have just thirty minutes to live!
But to light a pastile, and Elise, with her head
And her breast and her arms and her hands, should drop dead!
VII.
Quick---is it finished? The colour's too grim!
Why not soft like the phial's, enticing and dim?
Let it brighten her drink, let her turn it and stir,
And try it and taste, ere she fix and prefer!
VIII.
What a drop! She's not little, no minion like me!
That's why she ensnared him: this never will free
The soul from those masculine eyes,---Say, "no!''
To that pulse's magnificent come-and-go.
IX.
For only last night, as they whispered, I brought
My own eyes to bear on her so, that I thought
Could I keep them one half minute fixed, she would fall
Shrivelled; she fell not; yet this does it all!
X.
Not that I bid you spare her the pain;
Let death be felt and the proof remain:
Brand, burn up, bite into its grace---
He is sure to remember her dying face!
XI.
Is it done? Take my mask off! Nay, be not morose;
It kills her, and this prevents seeing it close;
The delicate droplet, my whole fortune's fee!
If it hurts her, beside, can it ever hurt me?
XII.
Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill,
You may kiss me, old man, on my mouth if you will!
But brush this dust off me, lest horror it brings
Ere I know it---next moment I dance at the King's!
If you've got this far you should be rewarded. This is a very old sound file that was created by an unknown composer using the long dead Sound Studio program that was quite ground breaking for its time. I converted it to an AIFF file so you can appreciate it today (and for non-Mac users there is an MP3 verison although the file is actually larger and worse quality). Enjoy it in all its hissy 8-bit glory! Star Trek Rap AIFF version (best) MP3 version (only if you have to).
Rather poorly maintained by W.I.Sellers@lboro.ac.uk to whom all comments should be politely directed.
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