londonbridge

London Bridge is Falling Down, O My Fair Lady

J. Yuri Egorov, the Russian dual-doctor of science and philosophy, who was residing in the British Isles for a time, was walking across London Bridge. It was a gray, overcast day, and looked as if it may even rain shortly. Below the bridge, the Thames seeped on in its eternal ebb towards the sea, gray and slow and sludge-like as the sky above it, while along its banks, the streets, houses, shops, buildings, and crowds cluttered and towered and fumed and smoked and noised.

On this day, Doctor Egorov was impeccably dressed as always, his collar mounted firmly to his chin, and walked at a vigorous though not urgent pace—that is, he walked as a man who had a place to go, who knew where that place was, and who was going there without dawdle or daddle or dilly. His head was positioned forward and upward, though not elevated, his eyes directed unwaveringly ahead, and his professional black doctor's bag gripped in his right hand, controlled, assertive, and not swinging.

It was at the mid-point of the bridge, however, when something caught Doctor Egorov's attention and forced him to turn his head. As he did so, his pace slowed, which caused his head to turn further. Consequently, his pace faltered, he mistook his step, and then, before he knew it, Doctor Egorov was standing stalk-still as a scarecrow in the middle of the bridge.

What had caused J. Yuri Egorov, the Russian dual-doctor of science and philosophy, to falter along his route that fateful day on London Bridge was a sound, a song, a singing—yes, a sound-song-singing that was coming from just a few yards away.

London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, O my fair lady!

After Doctor Egorov distinguished the words of the song, he immediately began to search the bridge to locate its origins. And after only a few moments of examining with his eyes, he did so. However, once he did so, Doctor Egorov did not march straightforward and command it to cease, as he initially had conceived to do, but instead continued to stand in the middle of the bridge, and now with rather of a dumb expression on his face.

London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, O my fair lady! Take a key and lock her up, lock her up, take a key and lock her up, my fair lady!

The source from which the sound-song-singing was coming continued its sound-song-singing undisturbed. After a few more moments passed though, it noticed Doctor Egorov staring at it, and a key suddenly changed in its tone, and it stared back at him.

How will we build it up, build it up, build it up, how will we build it up, my fair lady? Build it up with gold and silver, gold and silver, gold and silver, build it up with gold and silver. But gold and silver I have none, I have none, I have none, gold and silver I have none, my fair lady!

Doctor Egorov snapped out of his stupefied expression and his normal gait returned. He gripped his professional black doctor's bag more tightly in his hand. He pressed his collar firmly to his chin. He stomped and stamped his foot on the bridge. And then, setting a stern expression on his face, he proceeded towards the source from which the sound-song-singing was originating.

Build it up with penny loaves, penny loaves, penny loaves, build it up with penny loaves. Penny loaves will tumble down, tumble down, tumble down, penny loaves will tumble down, my fair lady!

After pushing his way through several other pedestrians who also happened to be crossing London Bridge that day, Doctor Egorov reached the source of the sound-song-singing, and at once his cross eyes and crooked grin gave way to a more bewildered expression, as he stood before the ghost-child seated on the madman's knee.

London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, O my fair lady!

And then, after the song had been sung, the ghost child squeaked, with an outward thrust of its hand:

“Give me money!”

Doctor Egorov, at once astounded and confounded by the ghost-child's sudden squawking demand, threw his head backwards while clutching the collar of his coat.

“What here?” he stammered. “What be the meaning of this?”

“Give me money!” the ghost-child squawked again, its hand still thrust forward.

“Why, I'll be,” the Doctor said. “I shall not.” And he slid his hand from the collar to the breast pocket of his coat, below which lay his purse.

Build it up with pins and needles, pins and needles, pins and needles, build it up with pins and needles. Pins and needles bend and break, bend and break, bend and break, pins and needles bend and break, my fair lady!

Doctor Egorov scrunched his forehead and grumbled. “Cease this gibberish at once,” he commanded.

Build it up with wood and clay, wood and clay, wood and clay, build it up with wood and clay. Wood and clay will wash away, wash away, wash away, wood and clay will wash away, my fair lady!

“I do say!” the Doctor exclaimed.

Build it up with iron and steel, iron and steel, iron and steel, build it up with iron and steel. Iron and steel will bend and bow, bend and bow, bend and bow, iron and steel will bend and bow, my fair lady!

“What are you, man?—an imbecile! Do you not hear me? Have you no decency?”

London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, O my fair lady!

And then, with an even greater outward thrust of its hand and a more strident pitch, the ghost-child squealed:

“Give me money!”

Doctor Egorov's mouth gaped. “That's it!” he cried. “I won't stand it! I won't stand it a minute longer!” He stamped and stomped his foot on the bridge. “I care not one ruble, kopeck, or pence for you or any of you kind—ventriloquists, mimes, mutes, midgets, mutants, madmen, jokers, jacks, knaves, fools, buffoons, or any of the like of you street dwellers. Ho-hum and bah-hah to all of you!”

We must build it up again, up again, up again, we must build it up again, my fair lady. Build it up with silver and gold, silver and gold, silver and gold, build it up with silver and gold. Silver and gold will be stolen away, stolen away, stolen away, silver and gold will be stolen away, my fair lady!

Doctor Egorov's mouth gaped further and his left eye began to twitch.

Set a man to watch all night, watch all night, watch all night, set a man to watch all night. Suppose the man should fall asleep, fall asleep, fall asleep, suppose the man should fall asleep, my fair lady?

And then, with an even greater outward thrust of its hand and in its most raucous pitch, the ghost-child squealed:

“Give me money!”

Doctor Egorov shook with fury. He reached out and seized the ghost-child by its throat.

“Give me this devil-doll child at once,” he said, “so that may throw it in the river and drown it!”

Give him a pipe to smoke all night, smoke all night, smoke all night, give him a pipe to smoke all night.

As Doctor Egorov wrestled to get hold of the ghost-child and throw it into the river, the ghost-child suddenly began to wrestle back. It tugged on Doctor Egorov's trousers and pulled on his jacket. Then it went for his breast pocket.

“Ho! Ho!” the Doctor gave out. “Ho! Help! A thief!”

Here's a prisoner I have got, I have got, I have got, here's a prisoner I have got, my fair lady. What's the prisoner done to you, done to you, done to you, what's the prisoner done to you, my good man?

Though Doctor Egorov shouted and flailed his limbs, wrestling with the ghost-child, none of the other pedestrians crossing the bridge stopped to watch them or to aid the Doctor, but the mass only turned its heads slightly to gaze and continued on its route, which left the Doctor more confounded than ever.

Finally, with a deep scrunching of his face, Doctor Egorov summoned his confidence and determination.

"You shall not steal my purse, knave!” he shouted, and, wrenching himself free from the ghost-child's grip, rose once more to his full height. Then, with a great arching swing of his professional black doctor's bag, Doctor Egorov belted the ghost-child over the side of its head, knocking it from the madman's knee, and sending it crashing to the floor of the bridge. Without further hesitation, the Doctor began to stomp and stamp on the head of the ghost-child, until it was reduced to splinters. He then picked up the torso and pitched it over the side of the bridge into the river.

“Alas! It is finished!” the Doctor cried, and vaulted his head back in triumph.

Regaining his composure, Doctor Egorov straightened his trousers, flattened his coat, tweaked his jacket, and pressed his collar firmly to his chin. Then, positioning his head forward and upward, though not elevated, his eyes directly ahead, and his professional black doctor's bag gripped snuggly in his right hand, controlled, assertive, and not swinging, he proceeded forward on his route across the bridge once again. And as he made his away over the bridge, the Doctor felt a renewed sense of health, a lightness of heart, and a profound joy to be walking at his normal pace and rhythm once more.

Before he could reach the other side of the bridge, however, Doctor Egorov faltered again, as he heard a certain familiar sound-song-singing. And as he turned his head to glance back over his shoulder, he thought that he saw, though he could not be quite certain, the ghost child sitting on the madman's knee.

Broke my teeth and smashed my face, smashed my face, smashed my face, broke my teeth and smashed my face, my fair lady. Then take the key and lock him up, lock him up, lock him up, take the key and lock him up, my good man. What will it take to set him free, set him free, set him free, what will it take to set him free, my fair lady? God's redemption only will set him free, set him free, set him free, God's redemption only will set him free, my good man. But God's redemption we have not got, have not got, have not got, but God's redemption we have not got, my fair lady. Then off to prison he must go, he must go, he must go, then off to prison he must go, my good man!

Doctor J. Yuri Egorov did not stop this time, however, but instead quickened his pace and hurried on the rest of the way across the bridge. And then, without a further glance back towards the bridge or river, he plunged himself deep into the city.