Leslie Howard
as the Scarlet Pimpernel
is a pure joy
to watch,
all big-collared foppish
tight-trousered dandy
& dainty eyeglass
peering,
& there’s scheming
from the glum & slightly
hunch-backed Robespierre,
weeping aristocrats,
in tumbrils,
& innocent playing
children,
oh so-tailored families
all huge-coiffured hair,
cravats & handkerchiefs
& cocky young jackanapes
playing chess,
the cheering crowds
all coarse & ugly,
with knitting bonneted-crones
anticipating as the drums roll,
& the blade falls,
to a mighty
cheer,
we can see
our own bewitching
Marie Antoinette,
our own sly & whispering
Rasputin,
our gold-folly Sun King,
but I cannot say
I want Madame
La Guillotine
to be set up,
in the square
this time,
no …
no that,
but a victorious
cheering mob,
does sometimes
haunt my dreams,
I confess
to say.
“I send them to the guillotine for the future happiness of the human race, but I do not allow torture.”
Robespierre