Gratiano, in this version, is represented as a flunkey, in which character he makes love to Nerissa:-- Blush not that I'm a footman, I conjures; Let not my _plushes_ be the cause of yours. _You_ to the eyes--but, though more difficulter, _I_ to the knees plush as the _knee plush ultra_. Everywhere the puns are as clever as they are bright. Portia says to Nerissa:-- Mind, a maiden should Of kisses to a bearded man be chary. _Nerissa._ Such a salute, ma'am, must be _salute-hairy_. Launcelot, again, says to Jessica:-- But smile again, and all will sunshine be, Sweet Israelite, you _is real light_ to me!... Mock not my misery--I know full well I'm a poor _serf_ and _he's_ a heavy _swell_. Once more, Shylock says:-- My only heiress, folks will say in mock, Fled like a _timid hair_ from a _Shy-lock_!... Unfeeling child, who's left her sire to sigh, Without a _tie_ or _prop_ or _prop-er-ty_. We come now to the production, at the Lyceum in 1856, of William Brough's perversion of "The Winter's Tale,"--"Perdita, or the Royal Milkmaid."[41] This was fitted with a prologue in which Time sang an effective song, descriptive of the author's aims and intentions, and winding up with this ingenuous verse:-- [41] See pp. 39, 40. This period to match, in each single snatch Of music to be sung, I've tried of The oldest tunes to get, including that as yet Unknown melody the old cow died of. And that all might be In antiquity Alike, I for my puns cry quarter, For I've chosen, good folks, The most ancient jokes For this worthy old dramatist's slaughter. When Autolycus appears upon the scene, with his pedlar's box, he is made to excuse his "conveying" propensities in a ditty suggested by the then popular song called "Bobbing Around":-- The shopkeeper who gives short weight Is robbing all round, all round, all round; The grocers who adulterate, Like me go robbing all round. The milkman in his lowly walk Goes robbing all round, all round, all round; When, 'stead of milk, he walks his chalk, And so goes robbing around. The publican dilutes our beer, A robbing all round, all round, all round; With water, and still worse, I fear, So he goes robbing all round. In all we eat, or drink, or buy, There's robbing all round, all round, all round, And tradesmen with each other vie, Who'll best do robbing all round. Who'll first at me, then, throw a stone For robbing around, around, around? My trade's as honest as their own, Since all go robbing around.