If Shakespeare had collaborated with Sir Mix-a-Lot

 

(A lady speaketh unto her companion, whilst beholding a fine lady who shaketh her ample fundament):

I’faith, Rebecca, hark at yon fundament. Large it is, like unto that which is desired by troubadours. Those troubadours, who can fathom? Verily, they like the wench merely because she appeareth as an strumpet. Forsooth, the lady’s rump, so great in size it is, such that she could make pilgrimage unto Canterbury from London town whilst leaving not her abode. Behold! Damask her coloring is not.

 

(Sir Mix-a-Lot of the Round Table entereth and performeth a soliloquy):

I prefer large fundaments, by my troth;

To deny such sooth would my brethren be loth.

Thy codpiece would be like to burst, I trow,

Did such a fine thikke wench strut before thou.

In size, like to that of a cow, hast thou noted how

Stuffed into the petticoats it be? That is the rump for me.

O love! I would thee be fetching, and make thine etching,

My lads attempted to tell me “Squire,

That fundament shall make thee burn with desire”.

O! Rump-o’-smooth-skin,

Thou wishest to enter my coach?

Then pump it, pump it,

For thou art no such base strumpet.

I have seen them dance

The Devil take romance!

She sweateth and wetteth as a faucet,

Maketh me long to remove her corset.

I tire of the town crier

Saying small rumps are to be desired;

Ask any fellow of the shade of Othello

 And he’ll tell you she must pump much rump

Therefore Gentlemen! (Yea!) Gentlemen! (Yea!)

Hath thy beloved the fundament? (Yea verily!)

Tell her to pump it! (Pump it!) Pump it! (Pump it!)

Pump that healthy rump!

Milady hath rump!

 

(Chorus: Sir Mix-a-lot singeth and shaketh his fundament whilst his merry wags join the refrain)

-        Oxford face with a fishwife’s bottom!

Milady hath rump!

-        Oxford face with a fishwife’s bottom!

-        Oxford face with a fishwife’s bottom!

 

(Verse the second: Sir Mix-a-lot continueth)

Round as the Globe Theatre

When I put on a play later

Helpless am I to stop myself from acting as animals do

I say unto you

I wish to bring thee home

And uh, treble uh-uh-uh

I speak not of woodcuts

For they have naught on the true butts

I desire those that are quite thikke

For they cut me to the quick

Longing to bring unto them my stick

I behold the troubadours

Speaking to their ladies like whores

It should now give thee pause,

For soon the lady shall be mine, not yours.

Treat her not as thou wouldst a harlot,

Thou flap-eared knave, thou worthless varlet.

Lady, I shall be with thee body and heart

From night till returneth Helios’ cart.

The lady hath it going on

Many villains like not my song

For the knaves are all eyes and no sight

Whilst in broad fundaments are my delight

For long I am, and strong I am,

And getting the friction on I am.

Thus ladies! (Yea!) Ladies! (Yea!)

Ye are as hot as Hades! (Yea!)

Turn about! Stick it out!

Even pale-hued lads must shout

Milady hath rump!

 

(Bridge: Sir Mix-a-lot)

Lady, thy bottom and bosom I shall treasure,

If at least three feet around they do measure.

 

(Verse the third: Sir Mix-a-Lot)

Thy lady Harriet, o swain,

Rolleth in her wain

Yet Harriet hath no baggage in the back of her chariot.

My lariat

Desireth it not

If thou hast not got bot.

Thou canst do sidebends or sit-ups,

But lose not thou that arse!

Some brethren wish not to return

And say not that gilden is thy stern;

Hence as rubbish they use and leave it,

And as treasure I stoop to retrieve it.

Some say thou art over-plump

But I long for thy rump

For thy waist be small and thy curves full broad

And I love them, by our Lord.

To the wenches smalle, ye are not for me;

Get ye to a nunnery!

Give me ladies well fed, on beans and bread

And I shall take them unto my bed!

Some churl, full of words but empty of head

Whose lady liketh me in his stead

Saith he liketh ladies small as a mouse

I say a plague upon his house!

Miladies, if the rump be round

And ye long to be taken down the town

Send for me at the Manor of Mix-a-Lot

And be nasty in thy thought.

Milady hath rump!

 

(Exeunt all as Mix-a-Lot saith):

Milady hath rump!

Little in the middle, yet she hath much rump!

Little in the middle, yet she hath much rump!

(Divers alarums)