Forsooth, be this the visage o’ the Bard? So sayeth Alec Cobbe, a learn’d knave who didst uncover said portraite of a juvenal Shakespeare within the kin of Cobbe’s dustie, ancestral manse. The flap-mouth’d inheritor be of the apprehension that the plausive portraite doth depict the o’er-ripen’d, urchin-snout’d dramatist in the fleshe. If the goodly Cobbe commiteth not a dastardly conveyance, then this discovery be most topless, verily.