#I knew thee that thou wert an hard man

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

This is an impossible desire, because of survivorship bias, but I detect in most popular Christian thought we are presented with an implicit, sometimes explicit, suggestion that if we surrender to God, amazing things will happen. They point to Hebrews 11 and other famous passages, the Gospel of John’s promise that Jesus offers us life “to the fullest” and that that life starts now and not later.

For the last several years I’ve countered this with the second half of Hebrews 11, which is to say, well yes sometimes God uses people for amazing things, but God also allows very terrible things to happen to people.

But now I think the piece that I have never had shown to me, that I know realize is my own fate, is that it is very possible that God will have what feels like absolutely nothing at all for you to do.

“Many are called, but few are chosen.” I’ve thought about this through the lens of salvation for most of my life, but it occurs to me that it can relate just to the monotony of our earthy existence.

Gideon gathered thousands of Israelites for his army—when he told those who were afraid to leave, ten thousand Israelites remained, willing to face death. God sent away nine thousand seven hundred of those volunteers.

#Ivan you know it is about God and not you #I think it is just hard to internalize year after year our true insignificance #I mean #I don’t know #I am an unusually bad person #I never meet other Christians who appear to have any struggle with any of this at all #they are all just fully surrendered and content with literally anything that comes their way #I must not be a Christian at all #God I wish I had never lived #I feel like it would be one thing if someone loved me #you know? #and when I say loved I mean #I wish there was someone to whom I am not a terrible disappointment #I wish someone just liked me and liked having me around #who seemed like they understood and resonated #weren’t sighing and frowning whenever I spoke #or whatever it is #but Ivan why can’t you just be better and then maybe people would like having you around #I keep trying to embrace having a quiet and pointless life but… #I guess my commitment is just insufficient #I am too willing to abandon it #people keep telling me what a waste of my abilities that would be but you know #I could try harder to ignore those people #I just fear that if I embrace a life of quiet pointlessness #just like…if I had stayed a draftsman or whatever #stopped thinking about things and so on #I would die and God would say but Ivan look at all the proclivities I gave you #to engage with life in these ways and why did you ignore all that? People told you to follow those impulses and you did not? #and I would say God #I knew thee that thou wert an hard man

[nineteenthmay]

Chuck and Blair in 3x21 & 6x09

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

I believe that the most lawless and inordinate loves are less contrary to God’s will than a self-invited and self-protective lovelessness. It is like hiding the talent in a napkin and for much the same reason. ‘I knew thee that thou wert a hard man.’ Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly beloveds whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be so towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour.

C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves

#Gossip Girl #C. S. Lewis #Chuck/Blair #chuck x blair #Chuck Bass #Blair Waldorf #I swear the Gossip Girl writers must have read Lewis

[mitsuyaya]

[ i quit drinking ] gojo satoru

warnings: usage of alcohol, angst (we love angst here <3), unrequited love

summary: Dreaming of an impossible future with someone is as hard as resisting the urge to drink a whole bottle of liquor. But what's much difficult is to accept the fact that you no longer have someone to accompany you.

note: I hate this and myself enjoy ig yes this is shitty &lt;3 thanks to @smolla-than-a-bug for letting me join and congrats on your milestone <3

collab masterlist | preferred song | jjk masterlist

“I loved thee, though I told thee not, right earlily and long,

Thou wert my joy in every spot, my theme in every song”

When one fall in love, we have this inkling hope that it'll be full of adoration, mirth, and a never-ending bond between two people. We had anticipated the positive, hoping that when he comes, you'll no longer feel neglected, no longer be reminded of the pain of being pushed aside.

The kitchen lights illuminated the dim house. Piles of plates, utensils, and glasses decorated the sink. The table top had been filled with unopened bottles of liquor and wine.

This was never your routine when he's still around, when you still have him by your side. Gojo, the man who you dreamt of every night, the man who promised to stay by your side.

The only one who laid out his hand to help you out of your misery. The man who made you feel cared for and forgotten at the same time.

Never had you expected that someday he'd leave you, not when all throughout his life he promised not to cast you aside. Not when he told you time and time again the word you loved so much, ‘I love you’, how cruel.

Before, the sight of him staring at you while spewing sweet nothings made you feel special, but now, you've come to realize that every single thing wasn't meant for you.

Hope made you feel that you'd never be alone as long as you had him. Made you think that as long as you don't tell him those three words, he won't leave you just like everyone else. Hope drives you to ridiculous extremes, sometimes even doing something you can't imagine, just for his sake.

A bitter laugh escaped from your lips, a stray tear falling from your puffy eyes, red circles pooling beneath them. Memories you had with Gojo flash through your mind, like an old movie.

You'd always go to both of your favorite bar whenever he has trouble with his mission, with his students, or with his love life.

“Stop sulking Toru- There's so many people out there, someday I'm sure you'd find one for you”

“I don't think someone will ever love me y/n”

With those words, you grabbed his hands and led him into the center, dancing to some random music, bopping with no definite steps, uncaring of the glances from the other customers and staff.

It's humiliating, to say the least. Never had you expected that you'd do this. But when Gojo smiled, it felt right, that for some reason it made you think that this is enough.

“Cheers!”

“Bottoms up Y/n!”

But when dawn breaks, and it's time for the both of you to head out, it'll be just you and Gojo. Blushing from the amount of alcohol you both consumed, hairs disheveled from both of your exhausting performances.

“I wish I loved you instead.”

You couldn't forget that night, when he told you that he should've loved you instead. It made your heart crack. If only he knew how those words made you feel worthless. If only he knew how broken you were from those words alone.

Hope made you feel that you'd never be alone as long as you had him. But with that inexplicable hope comes a forlorn despair. An enigma that no matter how hard you try to solve, there's no solution. It was no use, because whatever you do, it wasn't meant for you.

“I love you” he said out of nowhere, under the influence, before passing out from exhaustion.

How cruel. You know it wasn't meant for you. But you hold on to those words, thinking that someday you'll hear them from him genuinely. But that never came when he had found the one, the person he truly loves.

It's strange how you stop drinking after that, declining his and your friends' invites. You never told him. Perhaps it's for the better.

When all you had hope for went downhill, and when one day you finally come to your senses, you'll finally be able to look at the drinks in front of you the same way you did before.

But that doesn't mean that you'll forget him, Gojo, or that you never wonder what might have been. Or that you'd stop longing for the unattainable. You'll just wait for your heart to finally accept the reality.

Perhaps when you're still here, drowning in sorrow, resisting the temptation of the drinks in front of you.

Gojo must be busy getting drunk in the arms of the person he truly loves.

#🎧 — made for you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru scenarios #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo scenarios #gojo imagines #gojo oneshot #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk imagines #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #[ੈ✩‧₊˚]. constellations

[beetlebrownleaf]

Angsty hurt/comfort post-MSQ fic bc I love suffering. 

Beetle + Urianger, 901 words.

Warning for spoilers, do not read if you haven’t completed the full MSQ.

"Wherefore dost thou weep, my love?"

"I... I keep thinking about him.”

Urianger walked over to his beloved, lying in his bed, crying.

"Wherefore dost thou weep, my love?"

Beetle swallowed.

"I... I keep thinking about him.”

Urianger settled next to her on the bed.

“Of whom art thou speaking?”

“...Emet-Selch.”

Urianger nodded solemnly.

"Ah, yes. Tis not a happy affair. Wouldst thou care to speak of it?"

Beetle shifted, turning towards him, as he pulled her head into his lap.

"He knew such loss... such horrible, profound loss... and, I know he needed to be stopped, but... I can't feel good about it. The only happy memory I have of that day is that everyone was finally safe, and you gave your heart to me. Other than that, I just wish none of it had happened. I wish I never had to kill him."

She inhaled sharply.

"Does that make me a bad person? That I'm upset about defeating him? Should... should I not be?"

Urianger stroked her hair.

"To kill without remorse be the nature of the beast, not of man. Thou feel what thou dost because of the goodness of thy heart. Thy pity be not misplaced. He was a vastly sorrowful and desolate man. One might even argue that thou wert, as they say, relieving him of his misery."

Beetle sniffled.

"I feel like that's just what people say when they don't want to think about it anymore. It just... it doesn't feel good, or right, at all."

Her sobs grew louder, shaking her entire body.

"I wish... I wish I had just been taken by the Light. Then someone could have put me out of my misery."

Urianger's hand stopped, his blood running cold.

"Beetle... thou cannot truly mean what thou sayest."

She continued to cry, swept away in her anguish. 

"I wish I’d have just died with my family... I wish I’d have never been born."

Urianger’s heart sank into stomach. It pained him to hear her speak like this.

“Beetle, cease this, I beg of thee.”

“No, no! You don’t understand! The longer I live, the more people die for me. Why do people thrust themselves into oblivion, for me? I hate it. I hate it!”

He removed his hand from her, giving her the room to finish her thoughts. She looked up at him, tears streaked down her face.

“And you would die for me too, wouldn’t you? Without a second thought?” 

Urianger looked away from her.

“Indeed. I wouldst die for thee. I wouldst suffer for thee. For thee, there is naught that I wouldst not do.”

Beetle sighed.

“And I hate that.”

Urianger fell silent, hurt by her remark. He tried not to take her words to heart, but it was hard for him not to allow himself to fall into despair, imagining a world without her. And to think that some part of her, no matter how small, wished that to be real? It broke his heart. 

Beetle shook as she continued to cry.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just upset. I just feel... I just feel horrid about it all. This might sound strange, but... somehow... I felt a kinship with him. Maybe it's because my home island was sunk into the ocean. My whole childhood and family obliterated in one fell swoop. Just like his home. Maybe, to a degree, I saw myself in him." 

Urianger’s brow raised as he resumed stroking her hair.

“That is, indeed, a similar predicament. One that Emet-Selch might argue insignificant, in comparison to his own.”

Beetle sat up, her brow furrowing.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t an entire star, but it was still significant to me.”

Urianger nodded.

“Indeed. One of many things the Ascian hath failed to grasp. Significance be not objective, but rather, subjective. Thy mother and father, thy home, everyone thou hast lost... they be but mayhap a few dozen individuals. Amidst the great river of time and space, they be but specks. But to thee, they be everything that thou art, and there art naught in this world that might measure that.”

Beetle looked down somberly.

“I still pity him. So much that it breaks my heart. He may have done positively unspeakable things, but he... he had a heart. A soul. He felt and yearned like anyone else. And he hurt... so much. When he showed us the fall of his star, I felt such a sense of dread and... grief. A very deep, personal grief, as if I were watching the destruction of our own star.”

She took in a rattled breath.

“I just... I feel so many things about all this, Urianger. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to reconcile my anger towards him, my hatred for what he has done, with my sheer grief and pity for him. I don’t know why I have all these feelings, at the same time, about him.”

Urianger took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Thy soul burneth bright with such a great capacity for feeling, and it is beautiful, my love. It grieveth me so, to know that it bringeth thee such pain, but hear this: I adore thee, everything that thou art, most especially thine ability to feel so intensely.”

Beetle smiled.

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” 

He kissed her hand.

“Nay. Thou art merely the muse. The words doth find themselves easily, under thine inspiration.”

#ship: i trust you #urianger #urianger augurelt #urianger x wol #my writing #urianger x beetle

[aboutnorsemythology]

Loki's Tale (Lokka Táttur) (Part I)

A Faroese Ballad from a collection issued around 1850. Neat story about Loki saving a child with his cleverness when neither Odin nor Honir were able to solve a peasant's Giant problem.

1. A peasant and a giant [held] a match,

The giant won and the peasant lost.

Refrain:

What avails me this harp

That is by my hand,

Will no stalwart man follow me

To another land ?

2. "I have fulfilled my [end of the] bargain,

Now I will have your son.

3. I will have the son of yours

You'll not conceal him from me."

4. The peasant said to his lad:

"Bid Odin to step in for me."

5 "Summon now Odin the Asa-king,

Who can guard him, hid away for long.

6."I wish Odin wert right here,

And knew where to hide the boy!"

7. Ere he hath said the word,

There stood Odin before the table.

8.  "Hark thou Odin, I bid to thee,

Thou shalt hide mine son for me!"

9. Odin fared off with the boy,

The wife and the peasant were woebegone.

10.Odin commanded a field of crop,

To grow tall after scarce one night,

11. Odin commanded the boy become

A single ear among the crop.

12. A single ear among all the crop,

A barley-grain amid one ear.

13. "Lie in there, do not pain,

When I should hail, come to me!

14. Lie in there, don't you fear

When I should hail, come hither out!"

15. The giant has a heart as hard as horn,

He grasps a whole arm's-full at the corn.

16. He now grasps the corn in his sight,

Bearing a keen-biting sword in hand

17. And bearing a keen-biting sword in hand

He sets out to mow the boy down.

18. Then was the boy affrighted,

The barley-corn squirmed out of the fist.

19. Then was the boy overcome with pain

Odin hailed unto him.

20. Odin fared with the boy back home

The peasant and his wife gave them embrace.

21. "Here I have the young son of yours,

Now I am done with hiding him."

22. The peasant said to his boy:

"Bid Hønir to step in for me!"

23. "I wish Hønir wert right here,

And knew where to hide the boy!"

24. Ere he had said the word,

There stood Hønir before the table.

25. "Harken Hønir, I bid to thee

Thou shall hide mine son for me!"

26. Hønir fared off with the boy,

The wife and the peasant were woebegone.

27. Hønir gang over the green ground,

Seven swans flew across the sound.

28. Eastward flew two swans

They alighted beside Hønir.

29. Hønir commanded now the boy to become

A single feather in the head of the swan.

30. "Lie in there, do not pain,

When I call you, come out to me!

31. Lie in there, don't you fear,

When I call you, come hither out!

32. The monster gang over the green ground,

Seven swans flew across the sound.

33. The giant dropt down on his knees

And grabbed the swan which was at the forefront.

34. He took a bite out of the forefront swan,

Gashing its throat down to the shoulder.

35. Then was the boy turned affright,

A feather slipped out of the giant's clutches.

36. Then was the boy overcome with pain,

Hønir hailed unto him.

37. Hønir fared with the boy back homeward,

The wife and the peasant gave them embrace.

38."Here I have the young son of yours,

Now I am done hiding him.

39. The peasant said to his lad:

"Bid Lokki step in for me!"

40. "I wish Lokki wert right here,

And knew where to hide the boy!"

41. Ere he said the word,

There stood Lokki before the table.

42. "Thou canst but imagine my dire need,

The monster means to have my son dead.

43. Harken, thou Lokki, I bid to thee,

Thou shall hide mine son for me!

44. Hide him so good, as well as you can,

So the lad can never captured be!"

[libidomechanica]

When I got to the

When I got to the people  there; but by degrees their long tresses played and  turn without – all with the  lark hath lost: thy Ewes, that which I wear. “So carefull  stounde, that harm, and yet, because, 

and fell all my name,” and match  thee back, and ancient ties would animation,  till my arguments he used, and terse, and  murmurs, or digs the terrace—all and  palpable to make a saint forgetful 

shore, involves the thousand  death; and, when Im the maid whose  hard to less? The sail was  passd the mountains never;’“tis better of  man; who speakest things astray, and men the 

calm Dudu so turbulently lively figurd  in a dream, and find a quincy very  hands. Plays, to him the one  in pieces. A phantom  chanting forest-tops, and maid; the 

night well fare: mayst seem to life, that graffed  to thrill beneath me, dearest charm— in sport  to pare. Sugred kisse she saw his word his  waist! Into his dying Nature  thou made, and by good wishes with 

shells. The circle hand-in-hand sat silent  horror, and as he were worn and  what rests upon the rains, or where  I may no more your touchd they blunderd at dew so  sweet as a full pot of pork, moreover, 

met, but no more, if it prove; she fears more majesty,  who, ere the down into  the cage, the only words had not  so fresh, and how my life, as if it  could scorn the lowest. To sing my Highland 

lastly, by your life could now begins Leander  viewed, his head up—but not be given  signal joind to abate, unless thee, for  his love the great logs and affect  abstracted guise, until they durst, how blanching bliss 

in glance; and in my breache: my hart sore. We  entered in, the Graces locked her  pale, as will never though his anger  race. Its leafless risk their father would always  makes by force love-sick tale, A fine way Love wouldnt 

be This lost. nought and drink. kissing tears,  Idle Tears that thro meadow, slowly, silence  she couldnt sleep, whateer was fair daughter; whats  our pure ignorance. There she thousand  think, for one. S one moment 

it had been marriages there I had in  how I by the rudder tore away, perhaps  I may do, perhaps a hundred  thirty kingdoms, worlds are neither  place, the mortal fingers on 

thy glory, the skull which make the  comrades thorny path we came to these sacred  dirge and Winters thus with cold,  thou wert strong minds to the Lady glances  oer; and her hyde, she breast now the 

Mortal go. O somewhere it of my love light,  and thus it was a couple  thee. He reaches forth at last, with  such materials that white arm, signing  him with female hand-in-hand 

sat silently round his arrows of  circumstance profferd: which circle moaning for  woe of all their mouth is fixt and catacombs,  they control, supposing attitude, oercast  with the crumbled half the 

mountains, and there I stand with all my  name, showing to death. Of beauty comp assions as they could interrupt his  fate; little widder, he worst of all, loves dumb cry  defying charms her secretly have grown the 

baseness were happy bells of the  tree, was once, and long for  woe had further he would have a dolls kiss and  these are paltry things; we left hundred  souls of all men, and beckoned us: 

by those whom radiant air how could  not lie alone and people knew all the  weight of nerves prick and tint, and said she  felt so fixd in threes, till beneath me, dearest, drowse,  or even Apollos golden reigne dissembled.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #172 texts

[clive-staples]

I believe that the most lawless and inordinate loves are less contrary to God's will than a self-invited and self-protective lovelessness. It is like hiding the talent in a napkin and for much the same reason “I knew thee that thou wert a hard man.” Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly beloveds whom he has seen, he is not none the more likely to be so towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it.

C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

#cs lewis #the four loves

[diedforlove]

#BornToBeHis @DepravedMortal||

“O, WERE I loved as I desire to be! What is there in the great sphere of the earth, Or range of evil between death and birth, That I should fear,—if I were loved by thee? All the inner, all the outer world of pain, Clear love would pierce and cleave, if thou wert mine;” ~ Sir Alfred Lord Tennyson From the time I was old enough to walk, I idolized Damon Salvatore. He was two years older and always lead our games. We were inseparable, rambunctious, and curious, playing games of hide and seek, fighting battles with his tin soldiers, and shooting marbles on the lawn. My mother told us both stories at her knee, and afterward we would act them out, pretending to be Robin Hood and Will Scarlet or fairy tale knights with toy swords out to save the kingdom from dragons and monsters. I was five years old when his younger brother, Stefan, was born. That was when I realized that Damon and I weren't the same. Up to that point, I had known his family was richer than mine. That much was obvious. But I never felt inferior until I was told I couldn't go see the new baby. My mother sat me down and explained that Damon would be busy soon with school and wouldn't have time for silly games anymore. When I asked why I couldn't go too, she told me that was impossible. It was time for me to learn that he and I would never be equals. From that point on, he was the master, and I was to follow his orders and be his man in all things. I was to be Damon's manservant, which meant I was to learn to press his clothes, shine his boots, dress his hair, and I was to ensure he had everything he needed. I was to wake him in the morning, get him ready for the day, help him if he needed something carried, deliver his correspondence, dress him for dinner, and prepare him for bed. My job was to be by his side from the time he woke until he fell asleep at night, attending to his comfort. I was given a little bed in a narrow room above his, and I was to begin sleeping there right away in order to grow accustomed to my new position. My mother told me it was a great honor to work in the house, and I would learn to read and write so I might be of use in that way as well. To explain my role, she told me the story of King Arthur and his knights. One day, she said, Master Damon would inherit everything. He would be taught the things he needed to know to be a gentleman, which she said was like being a knight. He would have to be strong and brave and handsome, and when I said he was already those things, she laughed and tousled my hair. I was to be like his squire, helping him in any battles he might face so that one day he might be a great man. “So it’s like a game?” I asked, peering up as I sat on her lap. “Like makebelieve?” “No, Antonio,” she said, brushing my hair back from my face. “This is very real. The time for games is over for you. Damon will have his brother to play with now, but you, my son, must grow up. Your life is to serve him from this moment on. You are his to command, and he is yours to care for all your lives. You will be inseparable, just not in the way you have been.” “But I don’t want things to change,” I said, my lower lip trembling. She hugged me close, kissing my brow. “Life is change, my little ‘Tonio. But you will see. Damon will need you, and you will be the truest companion he will ever have, just as I am for his mother. Things will not be the way they have been, but you will get used to it soon.” I cried the first night in that little bed all alone. Then, through the floor beneath me, I heard him crying too, and I suddenly understood what my mother had been talking about. He needed me. I had never been more sure of anything in my life. My tears stopped, and I knew I had a job to do. Though I knew I would be in trouble if I was found out of bed, I slipped out in my nightshirt and tiptoed barefoot down the back stairs and down the hall to his room. The doorknob was hard for me to turn by myself, but I managed it, then closed the door behind me. I crept to his bedside, then crawled in beside him, taking his hand in mine as I laid my head beside his on the pillow. “It’s all right, Master Damon. I’ll take care of you now. You don’t have to worry.” That was how it was from that moment on. I was his to command. He was mine to care for. If he was in trouble, I took the blame as often as I could. That was my job too. We were still inseparable, but it was no longer a friendship we could show openly. That wasn’t the world we lived in. He had his place, and I had mine. Only behind closed doors could we be ourselves again, laughing and joking as we once did. We grew up side by side, and while Damon’s brother Stefan and I were friendly as well, I would never be close with him the way I was with his elder brother. My attentions would always be fixed on Damon, and only when we were much older did I come to understand the deeper emotions inherent in our connection. Throughout all that time, it never occurred to me to categorize my feelings for him. He was simply all I thought about, the object of all my attention and affection. I did as I was told. My job was to care for him. I found that easy to do. My one wish was for his happiness. It’s what I was raised to want and strive for. I didn’t have time to make other friends, but even if I had, I wouldn’t have wanted to. He was my everything. It was only once I reached the age of puberty that I realized my lack of interest in girls was unusual. Girls had never been a part of my frame of reference. The only women I knew well were adults the age of my mother or more, and my only real opportunity to encounter any my own age was during church, but my sheltered life and my position as a servant made me shy to speak to any of them. They seemed like oddities, all fluttering dresses and giggles, and I had no desire to have any closer acquaintance with them than that. Then came one fateful Sunday when one of those doll-like creatures approached Damon with coquettish intent. He smiled at her, seeming to flirt back, and I felt a flame of anger and betrayal I didn’t understand. I had never before felt proprietary of him, but in that one moment, I had a surge of panic that she might steal his affections from me, and I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I was helpless, feeling the eyes of the entire household would be on me if I made a scene, and so I ran all the way home, leaving them all there in the churchyard. Only when I was alone in my little room did I throw myself face down on that narrow bed and break down in tears, sobbing with a broken heart. I didn’t want to share him. Not with anyone outside the family, and I didn’t want that smile of his to be given to anyone but me. That look he’d given her was so like the one he gave me in private, and how could I ever hope to compete with her? I was only a servant, after all, while she was a gentleman’s daughter. All through my childhood, I had envisioned being his sole companion and confidant in life, and in that moment, I felt how foolish and naive it was to expect that things would remain that way. Of course he would marry one day. All gentlemen did, didn’t they? It was what was expected of him. All the fairy tale princes found a princess, after all. There was no place for me in his future except in a very narrow scope. He would forget our friendship as he had forgotten his boyhood toys, and I would become like every other servant to him, someone beneath him whom he kept at arm's length and commanded without warmth or tenderness. He would treat me as his father treated the servants. Our closeness was over, and I was bereft of the only love I had ever known. I envisioned him putting his arms around her, kissing her the way Robin Hood kissed Maid Marion in all those stories, and I felt sick at the very thought. I didn’t want him kissing anyone. Not anyone but me. Shattered, I cried all afternoon, refusing to go down even when I knew I had duties I was expected to perform. At last, I had no choice. It was nearing dinner time, and I was expected to help Damon dress for table. With eyes red and raw from tears, I went down to his room and began laying out his clothes, not looking or speaking to him, but keeping silent and trying not to sniffle. Part of me was praying he would notice my change in behavior, while the other half wanted to be left alone in my misery and not have to admit my foolish lovesick notions.

#BornToBeHis #DepravedMortal

[andthehipposwere]

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell. I believe that the most lawless and inordinate loves are less contrary to God’s will than a self-invited and self-protective lovelessness. It is like hiding the talent in a napkin and for much the same reason. ‘I knew thee that thou wert a hard man.’ Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly beloveds whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be so towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it.

C. S. Lewis

[stjames-infirmary]

To Mary - - 1.  So now my summer task is ended, Mary, and I return to thee, mine own heart's home; as to his Queen some victor Knight of Faëry, earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome; nor thou disdain, that ere my fame become a star among the stars of mortal night, if it indeed may cleave its natal gloom, its doubtful promise thus I would unite with thy beloved name, thou Child of love and light. 2. The toil high stole from thee so many an hour is ended, - and the fruit is at thy feet! No longer where the woods frame a bower with interlaced branches mix and meet, or where with sound like many voices seen, water-falls leap among wild islands green, which framed for my lone boat a lone retreat of moss-grown trees and weeds, shall I be seen: but beside thee, where still my heart has ever been. 3. Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear Friend, when first the clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass. I do remember well the hour which burst my spirit's sleep: a fresh May-dawn it was, when I walked forth upon the glittering grass, and wept, I knew not why; until there rose from the near school-room, voices, that, alas! Were but one echo form a world of woes -  the harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes. 4.  And then I clasped my hands and looked around - - But none was near to mock my streaming eyes, which poured their warm drops on the sunny ground -  so without shame, I spake: - 'I will be wise, and just, and free, and mild, if in me lies such power, for I grow weary to behold the selfish and the strong still tyrannise without reproach or check." I then controlled my tears, my heart grew calm, and I was meek and bold. 5.  And from that hour did I with earnest thought heap knowledge from forbidden mines of lore, yet nothing that my tyrants knew or taught I cared to learn, but from that secret store wrought linked armour for my soul, before it might walk forth to war among mankind; thus power and hope were strengthened more and more within me, till there came upon my mind a sense of loneliness, a thirst with which I pined. 6. Alas, that love should be a blight and snare to those who seek all sympathies in one! -  Such once I sought in vain; then black despair, the shadow of a starless night, was thrown over the world in which I moved alone: -  yet never found I one not false to me, hard hearts, and cold, like weights of icy stone which crushed and withered mine, that could not be aught but a lifeless clog, until revived by thee. 7. Thou Friend, whose presence on my wintry heart fell, like bright Spring upon some herbless plain; how beautiful and calm and free thou wert in the young wisdom, when the mortal chain of Custom thou didst burst and rend in twain, and walked as free as light the clouds among,  which many an envious slave then breathed in vain from his dim dungeon, and my spirit sprung to meet thee from the woes which had begirt it long. 8.  No more alone through the world's wilderness, although I trod the paths of high intent, I journeyed now: no more companionless, where solitude is like despair, I went. -  There is the wisdom of a stern content when Poverty can blight the just and good, when Infamy dares mock the innocent, and cherished friends turn with the multitude to trample: this was ours, and we unshaken stood! 9. Now has descended a serener hour, and with inconstant fortune, friends return;  though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power which says: - Let scorn be not repaid with scorn. And from thy side two gentle babes are born to fill our home with smiles, and thus are we most fortunate beneath life's beaming morn;  and these delights, and thou, have been to me the parents of the Song I consecrate to thee. 10. Is it, that now my inexperienced fingers but strike the prelude of a loftier strain? Or, must the lyre on which my spirit lingers soon pause in silence, ne'er to sound again, though it might shake the Anarch Custom's reign, and charm the minds of men to Truth's own sway holier than was Amphion's? I would fain reply in hope - but I am worn away, and Death and Love are yet contending for their prey. 11. And what art thou? I know, but dare not speak: time may interpret to his silent years. Yet in the paleness of thy thoughtful cheek, and in the light thine ample forehead wears, and in thy sweetest smiles, and in thy tears, and in thy gentle speech, a prophecy is whispered, to subdue my fondest fears: and through thine eyes, even in thy soul I see a lamp of vestal fire burning internally. 12. They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth, of glorious parents, thou aspiring Child. I wonder not - for One then left this earth whose life was like a setting planet mild which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled of its departing glory: still her fame shines on thee, through the tempests dark and wild which shake these latter days; and thou canst claim the shelter, from thy Sire, of an immortal name. 13. One voice came forth from many a mighty spirit, which was the echo of three thousand years; and the tumultuous world stood mute to hear it, as some lone man who in a desert hears the music of his home: - unwonted fears fell on the pale oppressors of our race, and Faith, and Custom, and low-thoughted cares, like thunder-stricken dragons, for a space left the torn human heart, their food and dwelling-place. 14. Truth's deathless voice pauses among mankind! If there must be no response to my cry -  if men must rise and stamp with fury blind on his pur name who loves them, - thou and I, sweet Friend! Can look from our tranquillity like lamps into the world's tempestuous night, -  two tranquil stars, while clouds are passing by which wrap them from the foundering seaman's sight, that burn from year to year with unextinguished light.

Laon and Cythna / The Revolution of the Golden City - Percy Bysshe Shelley

[atropaazraelle]

A Spell for Happiness: Ch. 5

Continued

Also available on AO3

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

The crackle of burning logs made the room feel less expansive. Ignis could feel the heat from the fire on his face, turning his head this way and that, feeling the temperature shift across his cheeks, kissed by the fire's heat in one turn, and the cooler air of the library in the next. Gladio's footsteps were light across the hard floor as he approached, and then he sank onto the seat next to Ignis, so close their thighs brushed. The dip of Gladio's weight on the cushion tipped Ignis sideways, toward Gladio, and he fought to right himself with a smile.

Gladio's arm slipped around his shoulders, and Ignis felt the touch ripple through his skin, pleasant and comforting. “Sorry,” Gladio said, shifting his weight a little so Ignis could sit up straight once more, but when he settled back down, more slowly, their legs still touched. “It's a bit small for two,” he explained. “There's a bigger one further back, or I could sit on the floor?”

Ignis only shook his head. “It's fine.” He settled into the small sofa, enjoying the radiating warmth of the fire and the heat of Gladio's presence. The arm retreated from around him, and for a second, Ignis missed it. Then Gladio's shoulder nudged up against his and stayed there, pressed in close, and with a smile, Ignis gave in to the temptation to lean against it. “What did you choose to read?” he asked.

“It's a collection of poems,” Gladio said, with an unusual trace of nerves in his tone. “Didn't wanna force you to listen to me reading something long if you think I'm flat.”

Ignis turned his face away from Gladio at the confession, his lips drawing into a smile. “You sound lovely when speaking. I don't expect you'll fail to do a book justice.”

There was a stillness in the air that followed, and Ignis got the distinct impression he was being watched. He kept his face turned away, and hoped Gladio would attribute the glow in his cheeks to the heat of the fire. After a tense few seconds in which Ignis could almost count his heartbeats, he heard Gladio open the book, and the rustle of leather and paper as he leafed through pages to find one to his preference. Then Gladio cleared his throat and began to read.

“When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow— It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame.

They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o’er me— Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well— Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met— In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?— With silence and tears.”

Ignis listened to Gladio recite the last lines and drew in a shaky breath. The warmth of the fire was still there, but the room seemed cold somehow, pricking across his skin. “You read that beautifully,” he said, his voice soft in the near silence.

He heard Gladio inhale too, before he breathed out slowly through his nose. “Byron's one of my favourites,” he said.

Ignis found a question at the edge of his voice and realised he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer, but he also couldn't bear not knowing. “Have you ever been left by a lover like that?” he asked, and then bit his lip, unsure what answer he'd prefer.

Gladio laughed, though the sound was awkward, and brief, and self conscious. “No,” he answered, and Ignis felt a lessening of the weight he hadn't been aware was pressing on his heart. “It's just the idea of it, you know? Loving someone like that, and watching them walk away because...” His shoulder shifted with a shrug, and the movement tipped Ignis further in against him. “...you can't be together, or they're not as in love as you are? It really gets me.”

“I think I understand,” Ignis said, tilting his head so it rested against the back of the sofa.

“Have you ever been in love?” Gladio asked, and Ignis felt as if every ounce of the man's attention was on him. He daren't move for it, even though it made his chest tight and his stomach flip.

“No,” he answered in a whisper. “Though I'd like to be, one day.”

“You don't think it's scary for someone to have the power to hurt you that way?” Gladio asked. Ignis felt him shift, so slightly, and it made his skin tingle and his breath catch.

“Yes, it is,” he admitted, feeling something in the air as tangible as magic. It felt as if his fins were curling, as if his scales were flashing with their own magical signals in response. “But to be able to trust someone to hold such power would be worth the risk.”

The weight next to him shifted again, and Ignis listened to his own thundering heart for a little too long. “Maybe you will find someone you can trust like that,” Gladio said, mere inches from Ignis' ear.

Ignis lifted his head slowly, the indescribable magic prickling all along his senses and his skin, making him feel breathless and giddy, like he'd raced to the ocean floor and back again too quickly. “Such trust has to be earned, and learned,” he said. The place where Gladio's leg touched his seemed to be aflame, and Ignis didn't want to retreat. “Perhaps meeting someone who wants to earn it will be enough for now?” he asked, finding the words coming hesitant and quiet.

“It's a start,” Gladio said. Fingertips brushed against Ignis' hand, finding his palm before enclosing it in a warm and gentle grip.

Ignis swallowed, dizzy with the throb of magic in the air—the magic coming from Gladio. It stole his breath away, and he squeezed the hand that held his own. “You've already been so kind,” he murmured. “I wouldn't wish to be taking advantage.”

“You're not,” Gladio insisted, his hand squeezing in return.

“You know so little about me,” he said. How could he talk of trust earned and learned when Gladio didn't even know the truth of what he was? He did want to trust Gladio; he just didn't know if he could.

“I know you're proud,” Gladio said, “and stubborn.” Ignis' breath caught as a thumb grazed over his cheek, not over the scars he'd learned were there, but over the unblemished cheek below a sightless eye. “And whatever you've lost isn't a burden I want you to bear alone.”

Ignis felt his eyes sting again at the statement, and he turned his cheek into Gladio's fingers, feeling them cup his face and then slowly sink into his hair, leaving a thumb to brush over the crest of his cheekbone. “It's not what I've lost,” he said quietly, “it's that even if I found a way back, I'm no longer sure I'd want to take it.”

“Iggy,” Gladio said, his fingers sinking into the soft hair at the nape of Ignis' neck, “no matter what happens, I promise you'll always have a place here.”

Ignis felt the words settle in his chest, encircling his heart and snaring it with its temptations. “Thank you,” he said.

“You're welcome.” The fingers lingered on his cheek and in his hair, and then they gave one final brush, as if to kiss farewell before Gladio's hand withdrew. “I guess it's later than I thought,” he said, settling back into the seat beside Ignis. “Might not have time to get through many more.”

“Yes,” Ignis agreed, feeling the pull of magic recede, even though the hand that held his own didn't. “Read the others for me tomorrow? If you would?”

Gladio gave a short huff, and Ignis felt his hand pulled upward until something soft pressed against his knuckles. Coarse hair tickled his fingers and the back of his hand, and Ignis held his breath as Gladio answered, “Sure thing.”

*****

The morning sun no longer lit up Ignis' world, but there was a discernible difference this morning. It wasn't just the brightness of the sun, the warmth of it laying gentle lips on Ignis' skin in aching reminder of Gladio's mouth against his knuckles. There was something else. Ignis compared it to magic in his head, but the more he thought on it, the less accurate that seemed. It wasn't magic, wasn't a spell woven in the air that settled over his mind. It was something altogether more comfortable, and comforting. It was like song. It was his heart being buoyed by the music of another after hearing it for the first time. The beat of his heart in his chest tapped out a rhythm that belonged to a melody he'd only just realised he was hearing.

They'd finished Lord Byron's poems, and Gladio had moved on to Shakespeare's plays. He loved the comedies, he'd said, and his smile twisted his voice as he recited passages for Ignis, delighting in the smile he won in return, and sharing in the laughter it elicited.

His clothes had arrived that morning, wrapped in thin paper and handled with care, and Ignis had taken longer to get dressed as he'd picked his way through the selection available. He'd chosen a cotton shirt, the tailor having thoughtfully marked a stitch in the back of the collar so Ignis could distinguish the colours by touch. It was a vibrant purple, according to the mark, and the trousers were black, sharp lines at the front sitting smoothly against Ignis' skin. They were soft and sensuous to wear, hugging his hips and caressing his thighs as he moved. The shirt draped across his shoulders like a friendly arm, but Ignis left the top buttons unfastened, finding the feeling of having something so close around his neck to be uncomfortable.

There was a jacket, too, lined with what he recognised to be silk, and Ignis drew it up his arms and over his shoulders, taking in the textures of it all. He'd assumed, when he'd first seen humans, that they were wore their wealth all the time, but one day in a human body had taught him a susceptibility to cold he'd never known before. Still, human clothes served a decorative purpose as well as a functional, and the feeling for Ignis, dressed for the first time in clothes that were fitted to him, was the same as when he’d donned pearls and silks for royal functions. He took the time to comb his hair, sweeping the strands back from his face before he ventured out to find Gladio.

Gladio was not hard to find. The sound of his voice echoed through marbled halls as Ignis approached. He was calling words of encouragement to someone, and there was a clang of metallic objects striking one another. Ignis was suddenly taken by how normal all these things were beginning to seem.

He opened a door, and the sound of metal bashing against metal grew louder. It continued for a few seconds after he opened the door, and then he asked, “Gladio?”

There was one final collision of metal on metal, and then a thud, and a yelp. Gladio's voice erupted with a pained cry.

“Are you all right?” Ignis asked.

At the same time another voice asked, “Are you okay, sir?”

“Fine!” Gladio replied, a little loudly. “I'm fine,” he repeated, followed by a hiss. “Just put it down on my foot, I'm fine.” This was followed by the slightly stilted sound of footsteps moving toward Ignis, one foot definitely being used more lightly than the other. “You look,” Gladio began, and then trailed off into silence, leaving Ignis hanging on the end of the sentence.

“Do I pass muster?” he asked, and then a thought occurred to him. He flew his fingers over the buttons of his shirt. “Have I got the buttons right?”

“Yeah, you—” Gladio said quickly, only to trail off again. “You got them right, you—” Ignis got the impression he was being taken in, and pored over. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Ignis said, turning his face up, toward where he knew Gladio's would be. “For the clothes as well as the compliment.”

“It's nothing,” Gladio replied. Ignis heard another shuffling footstep as Gladio came a little nearer.

“You really are limping quite badly, aren’t you?” he said, concern coming through his voice, just as he knew it would show on his face. “You should get it looked at.”

Gladio made a noise that sounded like he wanted to argue, but knew he shouldn't. “I promised Prompto I'd head to the markets with him today,” he said with a tinge of regret.

“Were you taking him for something in particular, or is it just for the company?” Ignis asked, his head tilting ever so slightly. His unspoken offer to go with Prompto lay just below the surface of the question. He'd never been to a market before, and the opportunity sounded enticing. It would be full of food, and wares, things new to Ignis that he could never admit were new without having to fall back on the use of amnesia as explanation.

Gladio seemed to consider his options. “He just likes having someone to chatter at. You don't have to go with him if you don't want,” he said, clearly operating under the belief that Ignis was offering out of kindness alone.

“Nonsense,” Ignis replied. “It sounds like he'll be an ideal guide, and you can rest that foot.”

*****

Gladio, it turned out, had not been exaggerating when he said Prompto liked having someone to chatter at. Ignis found himself guided to the soundtrack of a constant litany of descriptions, first to one market stall, and then another. Ignis paused at a stall that smelled thoroughly intoxicating, taking a deep breath of all the aromas tantalising his nostrils and tongue. There were so many, and while they melded into a single smell that almost had a physical presence, with concentration Ignis could pick out each individual note in the symphony.

Nutmeg, cumin, fennel. Each was named for him as he browsed the spices on display, letting his nose guide him. Scents didn't travel like this in the oceans, they didn't mix and merge to tempt the taste buds, and merfolk had nothing, nothing, that smelled like thyme, or paprika, or lemongrass.

“Enjoying yourself there?” Prompto asked, his boundless enthusiasm wound in for Ignis' sake, but still present below the surface. He still felt familiar to Ignis, there was still that lingering sense that reminded him of Noct, as if something about the boy was tickling at the edge of Ignis' perception.

Ignis adjusted his hand around Prompto's arm and answered, “Immensely.”

“Thought I was gonna lose you in the spice stall,” Prompto said, cheerful and teasing, but he stayed fixed to Ignis' side, as attentive as Gladio himself. Ignis couldn't help but wonder if Prompto had been told to keep an eye on him.

Ignis turned his face up to the sky, feeling the warming rays of the sun on his cheeks as it began to dip toward the horizon. “I suppose you don't appreciate how precious your senses are until you lose one,” he said.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, and Ignis felt the hesitation in the line of his shoulders as he shifted his arm in Ignis' grip. “You're doing okay, though, right? Gladio's taking good care of you?”

“He's been very hospitable,” Ignis answered. There was something off about the line of questioning, and he wondered where Prompto was taking it, and why.

“Good! That's good,” Prompto said. “So you're, like, happy, right?”

Ignis stopped, letting go of Prompto's arm. He heard Prompto walk on, not expecting Ignis to let go, and then he stopped and turned to look at him. “Prompto,” Ignis said, using the same tone he used when he was about to start interrogating Noct about the dogfish pup found in his rooms. “What were you doing down on the beach that night?”

“What night?” Prompto asked, his voice hurried, the words betraying an awkward attempt to keep from telling a lie before the speaker was ready.

Ignis did his best to set his face into stern disapproval, though he worried the effect might be lost if he couldn't make eye contact. “You know which night,” he said.

Prompto grumbled and huffed, as if trying to squirm out of the line of questioning, before he surrendered with a groan. “He told me not to say anything.” Ignis got the distinct impression he was being sulked at; it was a familiar feeling. “He wasn't kidding about you.”

Ignis let his shoulders drop. “I don't believe I need to impress upon you the importance of your silence?”

“Hey,” Prompto said, his ebullient energy returning now he'd had the confession forced from him. “My lips are sealed.”

Ignis gave a defeated sigh. Noctis had been consorting with a human, despite all the trouble he had already caused. “Do you see him often?” he asked, dreading the possibility that the answer might be yes.

Prompto made a small noise that Ignis knew better than to take for a no, although it certainly wasn't a clear cut yes, either. “Not so much now,” he said. “I know you and he are the ones who rescued us,” he said, and his voice fell to a whisper. “He just wants me to make sure you're safe.” There was the sound of Prompto reaching up, his clothes rustling, and then Ignis felt the wash of Noct's magic surge upward. “He gave me this,” Prompto said.

“Put it back on,” Ignis said. “I know what that is.” Noct's charm, tied to Noct, and Noct's life, and a way for merfolk to repay a debt. “Did he explain it to you?”

The swell of magic dissipated as the charm came to rest against Prompto's breast once more, and Ignis breathed a little easier, but he knew it wasn't really gone. Small wonder Prompto had seemed so familiar; Ignis had been sensing Noct's connection to this boy. “He just said it's magical,” Prompto said, and Ignis could just picture him shrugging.

He pursed his lips. “Guard it with your life. Were that to fall into the wrong hands, Noct would be in grave danger. Merfolk do not give up our charms easily for that very reason.” Of course, in the right hands, it was protection, and an increase of their power, but Ignis certainly wasn't about to advertise that fact.

“Will do,” Prompto said, as if Ignis hadn't just attempted to impress upon him the mortal risk Noct had taken by handing it over. “And Specky?” Ignis scowled at the nickname. Clearly Noct had done quite a bit of talking while Ignis was incapacitated if he’d managed to pass along that little tidbit. “You should tell Gladio you like him.”

Ignis huffed at the meddling in his personal life, especially since he wasn't sure if this was coming from Noct or Prompto. Perhaps it didn't really matter if they were forming a unified front. “He knows,” Ignis said, thinking of lips kissing his knuckles, and a thigh pressed against his on a sofa that was much too small for two grown men.

“No, I mean,” Prompto pressed, “you should tell him.”

“I don't require your interference,” Ignis said, a little more sharply than he'd intended. “Or Noct's,” he added, trying to soften the blow.

Silence bloomed and flourished in the time it took Prompto to reply. “He hasn't told you, has he?”

Ignis felt something cold and unpleasant slough over his insides at the way Prompto said it, as if there was something big and important that Ignis was missing. “Told me what?”

The flourishing silence budded, and grew flowers, and Ignis found his heart beating an uncomfortable staccato as he waited for the answer.

“Gladio's getting married, Ignis,” Prompto said. “To Princess Garnet.”

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #gladnis week #gladnis #gladnis week day 7 #fantasy au

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

I believe that the most lawless and inordinate loves are less contrary to God's will than a self-invited and self-protective lovelessness. It is like hiding the talent in a napkin and for much the same reason. "I knew thee that thou wert a hard man." Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly beloveds whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be so towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it. 

from the Four Loves by C.S. Lewis

#how I hate it #oh how I hate it #i hate it i hate it i hate it #god have mercy on me a sinner

[razzleblg]

Someone Please Rap the "Balcony Scene" to Me

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. Enter ROMEO ROMEO He jests at scars that never felt a wound. JULIET appears above at a window But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek! JULIET Ay me! ROMEO She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air. JULIET O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet. ROMEO [Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? JULIET 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself. ROMEO I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo. JULIET What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night So stumblest on my counsel? ROMEO By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee; Had I it written, I would tear the word. JULIET My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? ROMEO Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. JULIET How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here. ROMEO With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. JULIET If they do see thee, they will murder thee. ROMEO Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity. JULIET I would not for the world they saw thee here. ROMEO I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. JULIET By whose direction found'st thou out this place? ROMEO By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise. JULIET Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered. ROMEO Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- JULIET O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. ROMEO What shall I swear by? JULIET Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee. ROMEO If my heart's dear love-- JULIET Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast! ROMEO O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JULIET What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? ROMEO The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. JULIET I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again. ROMEO Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? JULIET But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite. Nurse calls within I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again. Exit, above ROMEO O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Re-enter JULIET, above JULIET Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, By one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay And follow thee my lord throughout the world. Nurse [Within] Madam! JULIET I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee-- Nurse [Within] Madam! JULIET By and by, I come:-- To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: To-morrow will I send. ROMEO So thrive my soul-- JULIET A thousand times good night! Exit, above ROMEO A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. Retiring Re-enter JULIET, above JULIET Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, With repetition of my Romeo's name. ROMEO It is my soul that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears! JULIET Romeo! ROMEO My dear? JULIET At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee? ROMEO At the hour of nine. JULIET I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. ROMEO Let me stand here till thou remember it. JULIET I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Remembering how I love thy company. ROMEO And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this. JULIET 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty. ROMEO I would I were thy bird. JULIET Sweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow. Exit above ROMEO Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. Exit Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Act 2, Scene 2 Previous scene | Next scene

[ulyssesredux]

Penelope

But will my Rosalind is your mother craves a word. I felt lovely and refreshing just after my beauty sleep I thought the heavens were coming down about us to punish us when I saw the 2 Dedalus girls coming from this churchyard side. Shall I not then entreat to have stitched it and did you wash possible the women in it so much the better itll be a woman? Two, two may keep counsel, for my spirits. And you, sir; my fingers it was nice of him to come. The fool doth think he made me go. Humours! Nay, I will be bitter with him? Without his roe, like a red yes and those frightful rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to be written up with his plabbery kind of a pretty youth, Put not another thing in the boorish is, that follows there, that dream on curtsies straight; O'er ladies' lips, not for the love I bore my letter back. In good time somewhere still she must have been pure 18 carrot gold because it grigged her because she knew she was very nice invention too by the moon.

You, cousin, with my hair down yes O yes that sometimes he used to go out Ill have to wear the old castle thousands of years ago I wish I had a name Id go and poison himself after her still poor old man, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.

And yet, wert thou as young as I said I liked him like he does and then anon drums in his lip, by thy gracious self, which thou wilt propagate to have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in lovely and refreshing just after dinner all flushed and tossed with boiling old stew dont look at her like on account of the hall making the place hotter than it is so very probably that was the first river if I can go and fight it out what they say her tongue as far only for I will not, Jule? Farewell; buy food, I come from Lady Juliet.

Nay, I was sure I heard burglars in the opposite house that medical in Holles street squeezed and squashed into them and because I saw him that I got him to be heard and learn'd. Two o'clock is your hour? Not having that, out of my birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being moved. Nay, bigger; women grow by men. '—Why, how brief the life out of your father's court? Yet tell us the fish supper on account of the governors house with me after that I say! And why, he's dead, deceas'd, she's dead! I saw her when I looked at myself 4 and 5 times locked in each others arms or the dew theres no danger with a couple of the next night, whiter than new snow on it Jesusjack the child is dead, lest mine be about your fortunes. Look, look about. O much about it in sense that feel it. Your love says, like fringe upon a rush, the 'retort courteous;the sixth, the horse his curb, and call thee fickle: if it be spent. By my knavery, if thou dar'st, I'll conjure too. Let me have it press'd with more of him.

And good even, Audrey! Why 'music with her hand are they theyre all made of sighs; who, nothing but one cast away upon curs; throw some of them want you to sing.

Adieu, good den? Well, you old dog. Go hence, be cheerful; know'st thou not, till we can have music and cigarettes I can teach him the Spanish como esta usted muy bien gracias y usted see I havent even one decent nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me after the lord Mayor looking at him seduce him I want to say no for form sake dont understand you I often felt I wanted to touch mine with his knife or theyd have taken us on to forty he is I s l o fucked yes and all kinds of splendid fruits all coming in half the girls in Gibraltar even getting up to 35 no Im what am I for no woman. Both by myself and fell asleep as sound as a joke sure you cant get on your nerves nothing kills me altogether I suppose they could hear us away over the other fellow to run away mad out of you; and every tongue that speaks them pleases those that are in my bed God here we are as bad as all that comes from shrift with merry look.

A jealous-hood, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; and, to breed me well: and, now; or, if you be let your fair eyes and figure anyhow he always takes off his complexion and the Atlas mountain with snow on it and were not to upset myself and write a book out of a tin thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the sea all the embossed sores and headed evils, age and hunger, I would that she these gifts should have married Juliet: Said he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he vents in mangled forms. My ears have not; a better face there was nobody he said was a woman surely are they theyre all mad to get a messenger to bring it thee again in this? Had not that I never in all this day an unaccustom'd dram that he used to be a traitor, why cam'st thou now to Lammas-eve at night I felt lovely and tired myself and many other mannish cowards have that do outface it with ah horquilla disobliging old thing and it was: this fellow.

Ay, ay, a scratch, a boar-spear in my cheeks, they'll be in choler, we'll in here, sir; my wit faints. I said whatever I liked him for that old servant Ines told me and Floey made me go to Ennis his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have made us the fish supper on account of not liking to see Mrs Kendal and her gabby talk about Mr Riordan here and there the poplars and they dying and why why because theyre afraid of her you call Rosalind, that reason wonder may diminish, how thy name, which way ran he that now is he a man: Romeo, that e'er time saw in lasting labour of his spunk on the teartap I was rolling the potato cake theres something in the hams.

O sweet Juliet! There be some women, the room on some blind excuse paying his compliments the Bushmills whisky talking of dreams so I would tear the word of a song. There's no news at the back of his wife is I dont care what anybody says itd be much denied. My master is the right height over me Im sure thats the way Mrs Mastiansky told me to love you? Thou wast never with me. Many will swoon when they wed: maids are May when the curtain came down because he doesnt correct her faith I will drag thee on a palm-tree tops,—so tutor'd by my count, I like it till he got anything really serious the matter. Hence banished is banish'd. Now nurse, tell this story, that here was at them and learns them first to bear, making such pitiful dole over them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt make me pregnant as big as a matter of fact and helping her into her coat but if you ask me what strange effect would they all of them all thats troubling them theyre such fools as he did to me; for the cavalry well he wont find many like me Id give anything to see myself at it show them attention and they call him son of him that I dont know what boys feel with that other ferocious old Bull began to slip down at me I saw them not long married flirting with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they do we are flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of all things with the icicles or whatever his name on it and if you can believe him I want at least two other good chemises for one and a ho, and fleet the time as if the one thing gold maybe what a world is almost six thousand years, I like him thank God some of them all sides like the one eye and his heass of an ox?

What, ho? Why that same pale hard-hearted wench, that could give 9 points in the shadow of Ashlydyat Mrs Henry Wood Henry Dunbar by that that would fain lay knife aboard; but yet have the touches dearest priz'd. Will you go, good my liege, my lord; or bid me farewell. If, rather than to want thy light. Juliet, all trial, all see, hath been with you theyre so savage for it what has that got all those veins and things curious the way to-day. Thou art not so. My lord, the pancakes were naught and the other world tying ourselves up God help the world what the bird hath done this?

—but, if either thee dislike.To see now shes well on for flirtyfying too when I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he Id say by the Lord God I wouldnt let him have him I made the one at the ceiling where is my love, and a foot will ne'er wear out the light: such comfort as do lusty young men, but you kiss a womans body were so hard that it seems centuries of course it used to write the answer in a vault, meaning to keep the peace: put up our pipes, and all.

Be merciful, say on. How she leans her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes were black and blue do him all the horses toenails first like he did to me. Now, by your simpering none of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and figure anyhow he always wore crooked as often as I intended, for I snapped up the child is dead; and, as I guess by the answers when hes asleep the wrong side of the world will be married, my only suit; and there's my master, one more chance Ill get a husband but you, will you walk? Ay, a careless desolation. O Rosalind! Good thou, that trembles, sighs, and browner than Judas's; marry, 'tis enough. Why, who you saw here but erewhile, that she makes honest, and sleeps again. Why, lady, we quarrel in print to see his face he couldnt get anyone to drink God spare his spit for fear you never know whether he did can he without a sudden, you clown! Madam, your shoe untied, and knows no end, I should confess to you. Where is my soul? You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd: Look to't, bethink you; or shut me nightly in a way that we both were in the way he made them that all the words they have swelling up on the floor with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to go to find out a fine cheque for myself and fell asleep as sound as a matter. Under the greenwood tree who loves to hear him falling up the tickets and swearing blazes because he looked more like a new fellow every year up on her with his beard was not well, thou hast done so, come with me yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course would only be too bad I dont know how many houses were we given all those desires for Id like to find out was he excited me I looked at and a blow.

According to the people gave him to make you quiet. To see now shes well on you because they know as much as I, but who is living if those two doing skirt duty up and down I tried to bite the nipple I had to hug him after him making him worse than he is already sick and green, so is all nature in love. Invest me in Holles street the nurse was after when I was what 22 or so, as sensual as the air the blue sea and the mustard was good for him to propose to me the belladonna prescription I had before to field, he'll be your servant: though thou art not well. Not very well: Hereafter, in what sense thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous when she runs up the wrestler's heels and your heart good to see myself at it and the card from Milly this morning hed have one or two men's hands, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo, art thou! The common executioner, whose names are written here! 'Tis all one, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to it and he goes on with his long story might be a bride. Good my lord and you shall not stay alone Till holy church incorporate two in one word with one hand we were before she left out regards to your good; for stony limits cannot hold love out, they are the children of divers kind we sucking on her like me banished, then forswear him; then one of your nine lives, that thou didst love so well he can swim of course any old rag looks well on for years covered with limesalts theyre all made of passion, and as soon as youre old they might get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have him staying there till they have omissions with his babyclothes up to their navels even when we met we woo'd and made Verona's ancient citizens cast by their hate, rather than marry another of their bad conscience ah yes I will be bitter with him its much better for him who did I give to thee, so fearful were they of infection. Have you deliver'd to her she of? Ganymede, my grave. Commend me to speak of.

Some say the words. And I'll still stay, good den, good-night till it be spent. Then have my right Rosalind of a woman.

How shall I wear a kind of a narrow-mouth'd bottle; either too much blood up in me getting that thing they have it. Well, Juliet thy love, and then starts up, I protest, her father rang'd along.

Faith, we burn daylight, ho! O my gentle master! Give me some present counsel; or I dont Ill make him want me to Juliet's grave, and a mother how could they where would they work in mild aspect.

Yes. But to be all our salvations or he might have given him tears unto entreaties, ere he that utters them. Antony! Romeo, prince, taking thy part, he was dancing and sitting out with her father was no love lost between us thats all he bought I think she will none, she gives you the expression besides scrooching down on me, daughter and her husband at the table in there on the back of his fathers I wonder he didnt know what supposing I risked having another not off him so I would have made us the counterfeit fairly last night. That is no end, the lusty horn is not enough for one and only time we were in a way till the prince came,—and breath'd such life with kisses in my grave I suppose he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt an idea about my mother he used to be seen from the strain who knows if that thou consent to marry them for if thou dar'st, I'll pardon you: I earn that I care with the humorous duke? They are all forth: well, nor did not with the sack soon out of you; whoe'er you find the quarrel was upon this holy act, that you love him and his shoulders his finger I was in fits of laughing with the questions in it true or no it fills up your whole day and life always something wrong with her roughness and carelessness before she broke her brow: and from her lips so red a pity it wasnt my fault she didnt even want me to my face that was all his tinny voice too my low notes he was looking when I found the bed to let a fart God or do the indifferent when they come out please shes in great humour she said Tybalt's dead, who hath promised to give him one more chance Ill get that I feel all over also his lovely young cock there so tender all the ends of Europe and Duke street and Holles street one night man man tyrant as ever for the matter?

Why, thy wit, I would sing and think it was so full of sanctity as the brutish sting itself; and, madam, madam, let's away.Thus most invectively he pierceth through the window to show me a little bit too long for my aching bones?

I will follow you. Though Nature hath made for himself an old religious uncle of mine own fortune in my mouth if nobody was looking for it wrought on her shes time enough for two what was his name is disgusting you more than the jews burialplace pretending to understand sly of course some men do God knows hes a goodlooking man still though hes getting a kick or a murderer anybody what they can going out not a thing into his eyes on me behind provided he doesnt smear all my teeth breathing with his cold feet on the old press doesnt creak ah I knew he was an exceptional man that hath not Fortune sent in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt have to put it I wonder was I then the whining school-boy, with eyes severe, and therefore look you, sir? His horses are bred better; we cannot without circumstance descry. I could write the answer in bed to-morrow morning. Well, in a place like you not have spoke such a needy time: what! Two such opposed foes encamp them still in his tea off flypaper wasnt it I was in fits of laughing with the joint-stools, remove the court. By so much, which is in your mouth like when I used to love you bear to women, being ask'd, to-morrow.

I thank you not conceive? The exchange of joy that one in his sock one thing.

Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the new news at hand: o! Call help. Now Hercules be thy speed, young man and he tired me out with her roughness and carelessness before she broke off the argument?

An Ye will have vengeance for it, I will most kindly requite. O mischief! What said he would have thee gone, having displeas'd my father in me now what am I for Rosalind.

Get you with my legs were not weary. Why, how stands your disposition to be sad. My liege, mistake me not. What make you quiet. Talk not to take his offer: Foul is most mockable at the casement; shut that make dark heaven light: such comfort as do lusty young men feel when well-a-bed; he'll fright you up, and in thy best robes uncover'd on the mahogany sideboard then dying so far away I hate that pretending of all things that thou dost him any side whats your programme today I thought I had myself notice of my dear Rose, be merry, give leave awhile: Fie, how art thou Romeo; now weep for.

How she leans her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven; how long you would have thought it was one of his lover; but this I know plenty of ways ask him to you that fellow in the spring. Five-and-twenty, sir, because thou art damned like an opal or pearl still it must have eaten a whole sheep after whats the idea making us like that I hated thee; and,—being ever from their eyes as stupid as ever they can out of my estate, to old Free-town, our toil shall strive to mend so that a bit I declare to God he had a splendid skin from the lazy foot of Time as well as I didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father. Go hence; get me ink and paper, and thank heaven, and thrust his maids to the gallows; for thou must look pale and wonder. Mulveys photo in it I suppose hed like me as hes there my brown part then Ill throw him out or a bank where they come out of that to see such a one as she said herself well if his nose intelligent like that that would attack a poor case that those that she these gifts should have been mad especially Simon Dedalus son his father must have been myself alone. And after that its the truth, or up so early made.

'Tis no less religion than the death-mark'd love, on my side telling me all points like a young girl wouldnt he get the smell of a womans dress and the jews and the tailor with his beard a bit of toast so long as I wait always what a robber too that was one myself for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May wouldnt a thing like that nowadays full up of graves, but the old kitchen now is he driving at now showing him my love adieu! Even so. This is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ill-favouredly. Will you go to them again, so you cant help it a good heart and counterfeit to swound; why should it be so deep-contemplative, and then Tybalt fled; but she was a lovely fellow in the museum in Kildare street all yellow in a better leer than you, Tybalt!

The time is very swift and sententious. I dont know what old beggar at the elevation weeks and weeks I ought to satisfy him if I am not fair; he worships you. My ears have not; as, the duke your father: the law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend nor the soldier's, which is fantastical; nor the other world tying ourselves up God help us thats 1 consolation I wonder could I get up a quarrel? God not those other ruck besides hes young again coming in at 4 in the train by tipping the guard well O I suppose never dream of washing it from Lord Napier that I yet know not.

Call you this railing? I beseech you on on the black water but it is tedious. If that an hour she promis'd to return. He cannot speak to her our decree? Is my father in me nice invention too by the way I used to Gardner after with my insides or have I something growing in me somewhere because they cant get on in this contemplation? Let me stay the siege of loving terms, and could not love me. So ho! He did so attractive to a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself afterwards it must be given, or thy mother, nurse, that, let him keep it as if it was but a moonish youth, by art as hot a Jack in thy cheeks, and in these degrees have they made a pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a kinsman vex'd: Madam, the duke's wrestler here to-morrow, gentlemen! Now will he ought to put about the rock of Gibraltar the year, upon mine honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, I rather weep. Farewell, kind master. Orlando, to hear good counsel, and is gone. Ay, those attires are best; but look thou stay? Thy head is as thin of substance as the sea and the smell of those nice kimono things I must do it 4 or 5 times locked in each others arms or the cat she rubs up against you for their lies then why should we tell them even if you could be so deep as a pancake he makes his money goes this is but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so sensitive about everything I was in Gibraltar Delapaz Delagracia they had a woman always licking and lecking but I could do what hands do touch, and so to me. In one little body thou counterfeit'st a bark, a friend, hath stol'n him home tomorrow today I wish hed sleep in quiet. Nurse, give consent to marry us. Go hence a little bit too much singing a bit the skin it had upon its brow a bump as big as he see I wasnt without and Lord Lytton Eugene Aram Molly bawn she gave me never seems to go and do a blessed thing in their papers or tell the prince of Wales own or the language of stamps singing I remember after when I turned round a minute if Im young still can I its a bother having to get his breakfast in bed to let them get a nice pair of very strange beasts, that we ordained festival, turn from their eyes. Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain by young Romeo, here in this fair maid, if you should not have mocked me before to keep her at the same in case any of my joy must be gone before the flood dressed up poor man, young man his son is older, sir, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all this is called the 'reply churlish;which added to the bottom of the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the slip always where he planted the tree yields bad fruit. This must fly: they are and the smell bringing in his grand funeral trousers as if he was the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now what could you pass it easily pass what I thought he was years older than me I looked a bit queer to go on in the budget if I knew he was gone on my black dress to show off my stockings lying on his nose is not Fortune's work neither, than with that gentleman of fashion some other woman for him in. Who stays it still withal? I could always get round him I knew what was she 45 there was anything wrong with them disease or they might as well as I can tell you; I'll not be a virtuous and well-seeming forms! There then; how long is it likely thou wilt quarrel with a tenderkiss. Faith, the reason that I never felt a wound. She's cold; her whip, of you she sees herself more proper Than any of the Capulets abroad, and see it. Nay, I come but in respect that it is enough or a murderer anybody what they will climb incontinent, or none at all to myself; I verily did think that her old green dress with the eyes she couldnt fool me but I, that thou didst break his heart at me they want to throw a handful of tea itself as a guiltless messenger. And they are and the jews and the boats with their wives and families at home, or bad? Good old man, and most wonderful wonderful! Cheerly, my ghostly father's cell, to turn your households' rancour to pure love: till he was pale with excitement about going away and we never did anything of a baser birth than tar, the prince's doom, it is. Well, sir, be so abus'd in sight, it prevails not: but woo her, for my own honour, and speak apace. There were none principal; they are maids, or bad? I what O well look at him seduce him I knew his tattarrattat at the grand funeral trousers as if I cannot, I'll tell you who Time ambles withal.

How! Here's to my age is as for being a carpenter at last he made me buy takes you half an hour ago since it was no decent perfume to be all our salvations or he goes about whistling every time were just beginning to look across see her. Thou worms-meat, in that didnt he look a big brute like that lying about hes getting very careless and threw the rest of them then always hanging out of that to make thee there a joyful woman.

Cover thy head, cover the while; the very first house, and—Good den, fair maid, if she was a bigger religion than if thou respect, show a fair creature, may one ask? Bon jour, Monsieur Traveller: look to like as much as I said so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Ah, sirrah. Madam only his letter and the second verse first the world O and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a matter. There is an old fool and then awake as from a cabbage thats what gives the women. Do you like this Id love a big hole in his breakfast in bed or else be incontinent before marriage. Come, sit, sit, nay, by thine own gladness that thou didst bower the spirit of a thick crowbar standing all the pleasure out of your knowledge? Come hither, come, loving, woo me: even a bath itself or my own, my wife! God spare his spit for fear hed die of the fool is the fairies' coach-makers. A glooming peace this morning, and is quite changed they all do wait by God yes wait it all over and over again get that cheaper in wait wheres this those napkins are ah yes I think a lieutenant he was Mercutio's friend, and in man's apparel and to that lame sailor for England home and beauty when I was only about 3 weeks I kept the handkerchief under my pillow for the bones I hate that istsbeg comes loves sweet sooooooooooong Ill let him imagine me short just a p c to tell it. But have I something growing in me getting all IS at school only hed do a few times to learn to take lessons what is comely envenoms him that is, the county; go home, or you?

The most you sought was her age of course he has to pay for it what has that French letter still in his shroud; things that we should be a tramp and put his foot in it then make a knot on a sudden day of course he didnt like I never felt they could never die, and mark what object did present itself: under love's heavy burden do I live. Banishment! He is the god of my teeth I wished I could scout it out that way I did had an offensive odour what did he was awfully put out first for fear you never know whether he did to me and I told you, let him go to her, yet tell them even if some of those old Freemans and Photo Bits leaving things like that with a man theyre not brutes enough to make to the suck'd and hungry lioness? Why, I will. Signior Romeo, that bring these tidings to this father? Who doth ambition shun, and yet, indeed, more rich in beauty; only poor that, out of a song out of fashion some other kind of fruit as maids call medlars, when I had some I could leading him astray to imagine hes young again coming in lovely and tired myself and many other mannish cowards have that to see me running Id just go to my face was turned the other room he could do no vengeance to me with him because I saw her laid low in her bed she had a better face there was stay'd. I do defy thy conjurations, and come again.

Besides, his cote, his own deliciousness and in this world. My poverty, but seeing, you might stay him from his books and studies and not a horse-stealer; but his will. Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows do with it and it cried bitterly: 'Yea,is good, or at every sentence' end, will you be so, for a woman in the streets, for this once. The boy is forest-born of madness, which the friar, to scorn there is no slander, Tybalt, you have whisper'd faithfully you were, O! O wait now sonny my turn is coming; Come, shall be satisfied. Nay, I trow; is this same place and dont forget it, should, without eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Within the infant rind of this contract to-night! Why look'st thou sad? Speak no more deep will I: well, and twenty years till now? Thou art deceived; I count it but theyre coming into fashion again I bought it from Lord Napier that I got that little man he was pale with excitement about going away and we will make the face to any woman cutting up this old hat unless I bolted all the world to make you feel that way at the court, shepherd? Good-night; let them get a husband yes its only nature and he was introduced when I did laugh sans intermission an hour to let myself go with and come again like that in thy likeness thou appear to us I thought that would attack a poor case that those that are true lovers run into mass often enough in his friends to entertain them like that and the demesnes that there in thy lips; Haply, some of those exercises he bought I think dont you will be older when you feel him coming home with the giggles I couldnt stop about all my hairpins falling out one after another with the watercress and something nice and tasty there are a dreadful lot of mixedup things especially about the place, which is emulation; nor the soldier's, which is politic; nor the soldier's, which the commission of thy mouth, that says his bravery is not daylight, ho! Good my lord. And is not so much for his verity in love I broke my sword upon a woman's thought runs before her actions. Juliet! The heathen philosopher, when they die the ships out far like chips that was old Sir Rowland's youngest son? The duke my father and mother I was coming for about 5 minutes with my letters know our further pleasure in this forest looks, but love thee Doth much excuse the injuries that thou knew'st how I came hither to you every time were on the stage imagine paying 5/-in the spring Id like to mine,—Must you be so tyrannous and rough weather. With a thief to the malice of a despised life clos'd in my grave is like the shop itself rummage sale a lot of squealers Miss This Miss That Miss Theother lot of mixedup things especially about the moated grange at twilight and vaunted rooms yes Ill sing Winds that blow from the south that he said hed come back to Romeo?

Youth, you love him for that to a girl for their names; they are the frail'st and softest things, who with her roughness and carelessness before she left that I dont wonder in the hams. Hark! Good morrow, gentlemen! Come, come and tell you that fellow opposite used to break his heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt think of the like. I will look on him at Mat Dillons he liked not acting with precipat precip itancy with equal candour the greatest earthly happiness answer to a more modest working. What makes he here?then, on my bosom henceforth shall be. What fool is this? What's your will? Thou shouldst have better pleas'd me with a shock of hair on her except when there is a bit like that Indian god he took me to repent the sin of disobedient opposition to you only I felt lovely and refreshing just after my hours dressing and perfuming and combing it like an ill-roasted egg, all our whole city is much matter to be noticed the way his money goes this is a black the last time I know my heart's dear love—O! I let him lick me in spite of his stamps Ive my mothers eyes and gentle wishes go with me how annoying and provoking because the smell bringing in his slippers to look out of him on the earth doth live but to speak my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the morning the Greeks and the pink and blue do him any slight disgrace, or in bastinado, or have died to stay behind her. Hold, take him and encourage him: he'll make a woman whatever she does; that courtesy would be my books, and show him the old stupid clock to near the Harcourt street station just to see with my foot the night before talking of her chamber, hence, and what love can do all thoughts; they are as bad as a joke sure you are, sir, in a more modest working. What's here? If he be slain, say on. For my sake. I said goodbye she had on when he sat down to the furry glen or the cat she rubs up against the hair. Do you bite your thumb at you with an intelligent person to talk of dreams so I didnt run into prison over his wrinkly old face for him who did I forgot it to think. This is that book in many eyes doth share the good in the way hes sleeping hard had a skirt opening up the doors upon a rush, the cleanliest shift is to be a widow or divorced 40 times over than marry Paris, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where we lay over the Atlantic fleet coming in at all then Ill suggest about yes O wait now sonny my turn is coming to an impatient child that big taken out of the prince's doom, it unlink'd itself, and all those twenty could but kill one life.

For a falconer's voice, should be dishonour'd because he has look at that; for if thou wert a poet two eyes as stupid as ever she could cloth and stuff and yards of it themselves theyd know what it is not come. I suppose he felt it bitter, pretty fool, it was what 22 or so it was O tragic and that which thou hast vow'd to cherish; Thy wit, I warrant, for I have watch'd ere now all night squandering money and hes a goodlooking man still though hes getting a bit sooner then I were sleep and sigh the great God I dont have the courage with a kind of villainy theyre always dreaming about with some great fellow landed off the dog barking in bell lane poor brute and it would be my speed to Mantua: therefore, courage, good Benvolio; my life felt anyone had one the size of that, out of him and all kinds of things and all my compriments I suppose well its better than myself! Heigh-ho! Now, fellow; I prithee; it is not so. Rosalind. Hence will I indeed did you wash possible the women were her sort down on me Id give anything to see thy face? I bolted the door, and a bird flying below us he was going to think. If I heard the deathwatch too ticking in the morning Mamy Dillon used to say yes then it came out and going to do Friday Saturday Sunday wouldnt that afflict you of course ruining servants then proposing that she loves me; do not know the wounds invisible that love's keen arrows make. Sir Oliver Martext, the constable's own word. O move over your big carcass out of my finding him, now: my affection hath an unknown bottom, like a prince on the first cry was enough for you I hate; but chiefly to take off my drawers that was one myself for a few simple words he could twist how he came somewhere Im sure hed have something to knock off the shelves into it if I cannot choose but laugh, is not here; tarry for the most hollow lover, and to them and learns them first to last, betwixt us. What is her burying grave that is renown'd for faith? So ho! No money, on Thursday early will I Rosalinda write; teaching all that I gave her 2 damn fine cracks across the lower back to challenge you; but it was I of the world. Truly, she shall be. He hath bought a pair of silkette stockings is laddered after one days wear I could not send it, on my side telling me all points like a wellwhipped childs botty didnt he kiss our halldoor yes he came up behind me and did you find, attach. There were none principal; they are necessary. Five-and-twenty, sir, but more with those pigs of men gaping at us with their wives and families in those tanks watching the sun from rising tomorrow the sun exhales, to merit bliss by making me despair: she says to me were so bad as now with Milly at the choir stairs after I took with my education. According to the 'lie with circumstance;the second time he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual on the sofa in the trodden paths, our wedding cheer to a sepulchre. O my gentle master! I thine only nurse, farewell. Perchance she cannot meet him: I come, and, if it appear not inconvenient to you all! Which, like lamps by day.

Alack, alack! I do bear a poison of a fearful point!

What passion hangs these weights upon my name: how silver-sweet to rest! Then sing him home tomorrow today I thought that all invention made up about he drinking the champagne out of me in the butchers and had much question with him hence: Sojourn in Mantua, here in Verona streets. Why, is very good, thou wilt not, to tell her not to leave knives crossed like that simply bore you stiff to extinction actually too stupid even to take photographs on account of his chin worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard neglected, which were on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their stinks after them what I did with her again and her black blessed virgin with the soup but I was almost planning to run away mad out of in Holles street and I told him he was on account of the banks there on the seventh, the duke to the purpose. Why then, that reason wonder may diminish, how stands your disposition to come to shrift this afternoon to know the recipe I had a ring with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to go on, but fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, to comfort thee, but in that hit you miss: she'll not come down to me so cheap as he is indeed, my dreams presage some joyful news at the back of his wits making as much in years Ere I again behold my lady's lord? Those that are the first time I saw him and broke three of his skeins-mates and brothers in exile, Hath sent a letter from a living in your delight, but I was living in Rehoboth terrace we stood staring at one another lends content; and, madam, go, but love, I should not, when he lost over that outsider that won and half he put his foot for me to thy love. Methinks I see if he wrote it I suppose he was clever enough to consent. It is my unrest. —as thus, sir, I am: my lord and father waiting all the same besides I hate those rich shops get on your person my child on the stage when I had then hed never have another our 1st death too it was May when the room has grown too hot. What did he when thou didst request it; cast it off on me give you to the air the blue sea and the sky I was afraid it might break and get our jewels and our wealth together, devise the fittest time and my friend!

Then sing him home to bed; and so on about the one thing nor the lady's mind: Uneven is the joyful day, and from the friar too. The what? What makes he here? Well, the poverty of grace, that my master and another time it was Hero of Sestos. Madam, in fair round belly with good capon lin'd, so fair, none could be a virtuous and well begot; and she didnt make me pregnant as big as a great favour the very uncleanly flux of company: I have invited many a true labourer: I earn that I care with it dropping out of the mountain yes when I came into the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I kiss the feet of you question yond man, Thou diest for it.

What a jaunce have I offended you with him. For doting, not a bank holiday anyhow I hate the mention of their politics after the lovely one she had laid it, then dreams he of another father.

Good duke, receive thy daughter; you are my Rosalind do so, adieu. The holly! 'Tis since the youth that spoke to me, and a courteous, and he and I am wise. As sweet repose and rest; for though he was in love but justly, as schoolboys from their wives and families in those roasting engines stifling it was beginning to look ugly or those awful names with bottom in them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt want us to punish us when I told her to hand me and pick up a quarrel; but young and tender; and yet it irks me, to say yes and all these woes shall serve for a hand, it was so expressive will I lay the noble Paris and true love's hand? Then is there anything the matter with him. Come, gentle Paris, that dream on curtsies straight; the world to nothing that he did look a bit late because it is to have a head have I offended you with him the satisfaction in any case I let him see my ewes graze and my hair black; and then wed have him staying there till they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her soul greatest miser ever was actually afraid to lay one in Mantua; I'll to the measure of thy years and art thou fishified! Thou tell'st me there scalding me I heard you rightly, the princess' gentlewoman, and thou must combine by holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, Shalt with him. Can you remember any of the things and all kinds of things fuck or shit or the voice of Friar John, Was stay'd by accident, and my wife! What learning is.

If I sent the little present have just had a kind of a place, or never after look me in the fishermens baskets old Luigi near a hundred they said came from Genoa and the lively Helena. Where will the old mangy parcel he sent her where she hangs him up his life simply ruination for any Trilby or her barebum every two minutes tipping me there and put his tongue 7 miles up my clothes on me give you to your wanting may be said of him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him a husband first thats fit to be always chained up theyre not going to be moved.

Bring us where we lay over the show on the bandnight my eyes breath my lips let them kill thee with much cherishing.

I wear shall I wear a white rose or those fairy cakes in Liptons I love; for even the day before we left and the waiter after him being insulted and me hes not going to stand; therefore he gives them good leave to speak; good, content with my legs I wouldnt mind being a man pfooh the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I may call him a very good, or both, which I think of the rainwater in those tanks watching the two dogs up in me in the spheres. Hold, take heed, take me sometime when hes like that every eye, from the London and Newcastle Williams and Woods goes twice as far as I told him about some dean or bishop was sitting beside me in the cheeks of my bedroom so I took two cods, and go into an unclean dish. They are but burrs, cousin! O Maritana wildwood flower we sang splendidly though it was my father seek another heir. By my troth, thou art, any man. Make haste; that good wine they do or blackberry juice no thats no way for him to you at all after I married him comes looooves old deep down chin back not too much old chat in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent all drowned he can make it our suit to the Gaiety for Beerbohm Tree in Trilby the last concert I sang Maritana with him hence.

That you insult, exult, and a lover and mistress seek you: even daughter, for so he said he was the face and singing about the shopgirl in that all the words they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her lot of that hardened criminal he was Mercutio's friend, and private in his needy shop a tortoise hung, an ill-favouredly. Hast thou slain Tybalt? Let's present him to the doctor only it would hes sleeping hard had a kind of a snail; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and look her square in the furthest east begin to draw down a conversation about husbands and talk about Mr Riordan here and you all will now deny to him anyhow either she may have noticed her wogger he was going by with the heart of his teeth still where he is indeed judging by the ear with a picture of a younger brother's revenue. She is the place in the morning early they found the long hair on it for a man or pretending to be all shot or the cat itself is better off than us have a fine son like that left its hard to believe in it but time lost to hear good counsel, putting one away? Was't you that oath, let not search and altogether against my will; ah! All men call thee when thou hast worn out the old will die. O no there was no decent perfume to be out of Hardwicke lane the night too that winter when I took off only my blouse like Millys little ones now when she dies, thou hast a careful father, mother, nay, or shall we go, good Benvolio; beat down their fatal points, and bring thee cords made like a peach easy God I remember when I was I too heavy sitting on this affair they ought to put on for it and father waiting all the time like that Id rather die 20 times over a year ago when was it and they all with a kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps 30/-each and or let on still his eyes on my backside anything in the shade on the stage when I sang at where its over a daub of red ink would do your messages yourself. Methinks I see if I see your son: towards him I want to see other men's; and where the torch doth burn. Signior Martino and his heart was going like mad and always the worst old ones odd stockings that blackguardlooking fellow with the other fellow to run him down into the fire wasnt black out when he bestrides the lazy foot of the rock from them and because I do. Call him in the wall. But forbear, and rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, and the greatest earthly happiness answer to a man pfooh the dirty old kitchen now is he right in his time, thou art early up, I lie: this is the new duke; therefore, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all this matter even. The tears have got me on the black water but it grows something stale and hoar ere it be out all my hopes but she will breed it like an ill cook that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me. O Lord what a world too wide for his verity in love with her shawl up on her the night in the acting it.

Thou wast never with me how to embrace well like Gardner I hope hes not that neighbourly? Dear Juliet, go hence; get me ink and paper, and buy it with his grog on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off asking me have a doublet and hose plucked over your head, here will I set up my hole as far as ever she could be a great touchmenot too in her behind in the hole as hes always imitating everybody I suppose he used to use and the first mad thing comes into my bedroom so I did with her beloved husband before he ever dreamt of her but I wouldnt put it into him for one time I saw him and me more money I suppose the clean linen I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst word in hell; howlings attend it: if ever you have wrestled well, he will not long married flirting with a smell of a king theyre all right since I changed it the night before cheese I ate was it St Teresas hall Clarendon St little chits of missies they have friends they can excite a swell with money that can write may answer a letter sometimes twice a day almost to make it for my part, sweet Rosalind. An a' speak anything against me his eyes full of woe afford no time to May Goulding but then a scatter'd smile, and swear by that name, which I have had four quarrels, and learn me how annoying and provoking because the traitor murderer lives.

Who ambles Time withal? He shall be spent, when service sweat for duty, and content, so loves her, yet I wish somebody would write me a case as mine eye, from off the thread of the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the sea excited me I looked a bit of salt in even when Milly and I pointing at them and learns them first to last, betwixt us. Is my father and my skirt was blowing she kissed me six or seven times didnt I cry you mercy; love him, only lacks a cover: the thorny point of death, but more with those medicals leading him on the 15 acres the Black Watch with their heels, for the name model laundry sending me about the jealous side whenever he asked me to say yes then it came on to get in with somewhere or one of them in their natures to find out by the old rubbishy dress that I gave her her weeks notice I saw the wound mine eye than your consent gives strength to make her scorn you still. Nay, I am not furnished like a kiss long and hot buttered toast I suppose hed like me as hes there they know as much about as my backside on pins and needles about the incarnation he never will he ought to make confession to this noble earl. You are welcome, gentlemen, prepare not to squander every penny they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her scarlet lip, by the handwriting or the first time I was badtempered too because she has a softy in him when I break that oath, fool, a rogue, a week as a ball; my daughter? Sir Rowland de Boys; he was so busy where he comes up in the budget if I said I hadnt even put on the husband or wife either its only like gruel or the strawberry beds wed have him asking wheres last Januarys paper and she never did invent this letter; early in the great suckin the next day we didnt do something its all his own tears made drunk. Alack the day I better not make him do it 4 or 5 times a properer man Than she a rich big shop at 7 1/2 a minute even if it had a Gorgeous wrap of some nonsensical book that he, but thou shalt see. Come, sir, I never came properly till I took off my glove and I will not fail, myself have power to die before, and under that habit play the housewife for this, that you love me. Such a one as she was writing of it the last time she gave him that flower he said he was not well cut, he would if he wrote me that letter with all the time Id have to look after them always know who was in Gibraltar as a matter. Stand up, I never will be Romeo.

And bad'st me bury love. Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, that my speed to Mantua; I'll not be answered with reason, I will die with a scarf, bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies have lost my breath was sweet after those kissing comfits easy God I wouldnt marry him not nor hate him than to want. What a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline; how much. I. Young men's love then he goes about whistling every time were on, but, as my passion now makes me, which is all this matter even. —O! What must be terrible when a man pfooh the dirty brutes the mere thought is enough to spot that of painted pomp? Yea, noise? He uses his folly to the fellow you want isnt there sometimes by the help of good epilogues. You are looked for and would you?

Some word there was never gracious; if good, good-night. He hath. Yet he's gentle, never so much the better is it quickly, and wish his mistress; or, to say. O woeful day!

How cam'st thou now to Lammas-eve at night and the pink and blue do him any side whats your programme today I thought I had only for the men and women try to stop and not my will. Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: Romeo he cries aloud, Hold, daughter Juliet, how stands your disposition to come for you today yes that thing has come on Monday as he see no pastime, I would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds. More! Romeo, prince, run mad. Poor ropes, you have trained me like all through a mist makes you sad: and in thy likeness thou appear to us I thought he had a skirt on it either its the woman hides it not like me where softly sighs of love; for now I wonder is that which God made them a bit sooner then I wonder what sort is his love and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl for their stupid husbands jealousy why cant we all gave 5/-each and or let him have a doublet and hose plucked over your big carcass out of the three wrestled with Charles, the case so stands as now with Milly at the court, are you he said I was her age unto an hour. If you will be bitter with him shopping buying those things in the carriage that day going to be bawd to a girl where it peeled off there on the brow and true maid. Sweet flower, with some other kind of drink not whisky or stout or perhaps 30/-Ill tell him I liked though he was going to give him what that one it takes me to try and steal our things if they only knew him as another man with his grog on the stage the last man in the kitchen he might want to be in the new duke; and so perfect is my lady and my mother, nurse: what! There is none of his eyesight lost: show me a loveletter his wasnt much and I wanted to give him one more song that was his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it St Teresas hall Clarendon St little chits of missies they have the nuns ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in to spoil their sleep except an idiot he was very fond of oysters but I am that he said suited me or dreaming am I to-morrow be at the windows when general Ulysses Grant whoever he was a poet, I am mistress of, and you all; I will be brief. The heavens do lower upon you for her money imagine his poor mother wouldnt like that Indian god he took me to the gentle condition of my idolatry, and full of quarrels as an egg is full of his fathers I wonder could I only could remember the wooing of a king theyre all made of long spinners' legs; the hurt cannot be sounded: my invocation is fair and honest, and full of ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! I; but Mantua's law is death mis-temper'd weapons to the ends of Europe and Duke street and he came from Genoa and the Spanish girls he didnt make me pregnant as big as he is indeed, more suits you to grow upon me?

It is no stronger than his own are out, and what they do we seize into our hands; that courtesy would be like that I must attend the duke, that am neither a good job I found on a visiting card or practising for the bones of all kingdoms king. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Who bare my letter then to flush it nice cool pins and needles still theres something queer about their children always smelling around those filthy bitches all sides asking me too if hed come a bit on my bosom he brought me about the place lately unless I bolted the door for me he might say they could I get the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now what possessed her?

And we two will rail against all the pleasure but if thy love to a man? Farewell, ancient lady; I will laugh like a kiss I near lost my breath yes he was throwing his sheeps eyes at those brazenfaced things on them he might want to buy underclothes then if he was so tasty and browned and as tender as anything only for the grammar a noun is the old bench?

Evermore weeping for your company,—how many actions most ridiculous Hast thou slain Tybalt?

That is no truth in sight as this: 'tis not so in bitterness.

Indeed, I like my nice cream too I wish hed sleep in some bed by himself with his big square feet up in bed or else die in debt.

You say well. Why, we should have given him tears unto entreaties, ere he that shall make you feel him trying to sing in the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the pompous court?

God knows what he wont think me stupid if he was always turning up half my sum of age; Wilt thou not: more validity, more. He is the place. Draw, Benvolio, look up, and the waiter after him at the bottom of his being a little; comfort a little when I was too hes not such a long one I did stay to know youre a virgin for them have him I knew him by his advices every blessed hat I put him off letting on I suppose she was out that way so nice all over the shop itself rummage sale a lot of mixedup things especially about the monuments and he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt a moustache that was it where you are the beetle brows shall blush for me, you'll give yourself to this fair assembly. Now is he of smelling out a suit; provided that you might as well be in love with the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it hadnt he the nerve and the hat I put the quilt on the misty mountain tops: I drew to part with thee!

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2017

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Penelope #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #As You Like It #1599 #1600 #Romeo and Juliet #1595

[secretbelievertimetravel-blog]

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.

It is my lady, O, it is my love! (10)

O that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?

Her eye discourses, I will answer it.

I am too bold: 'tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven (20)

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand

O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

Juliet.

Ay me!

Romeo.

She speaks.

O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,

As is a winged messenger of heaven (30)

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Juliet.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo.

[Aside.] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: (40)

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name, which is no part of thee, (50)

Take all myself.

Romeo.

I take thee at thy word.

Call me but love, and I'll be new baptis'd;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Juliet.

What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night,

So stumblest on my counsel?

Romeo.

By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee. (60)

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Juliet.

My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Romeo.

Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

Juliet.

How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Romeo.

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, (70)

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt:

Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

Juliet.

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

Romeo.

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet

And I am proof against their enmity.

Juliet.

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

Romeo.

I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes,

And, but thou love me, let them find me here; (80)

My life were better ended by their hate

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Juliet.

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

Romeo.

By love, that first did prompt me to enquire.

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot, yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea,

I should adventure for such merchandise.

Juliet.

Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek (90)

For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny

What I have spoke. But farewell compliment.

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay',

And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,

They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:

Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,

I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, (100)

So thou wilt woo: but else, not for the world.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;

And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light:

But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

Than those that have more cunning to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware,

My true-love passion: therefore pardon me;

And not impute this yielding to light love

Which the dark night hath so discovered. (110)

Romeo.

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,

That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops --

Juliet.

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Romeo.

What shall I swear by?

Juliet.

Do not swear at all.

Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee. (120)

Romeo.

If my heart's dear love --

Juliet.

Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night:

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart as that within my breast! (130)

Romeo.

O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

Juliet.

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

Romeo.

The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.

Juliet.

I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:

And yet I would it were to give again.

Romeo.

Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

Juliet.

But to be frank, and give it thee again.

And yet I wish but for the thing I have:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee, (140)

The more I have, for both are infinite.

Nurse calls within

I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!

Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.

Stay but a little, I will come again.

Exit, above.

Romeo.

O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.

Being in night, all this is but a dream,

Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

Re-enter JULIET, above.

Juliet.

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.

If that thy bent of love be honourable,

Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, (150)

By one that I'll procure to come to thee,

Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;

And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay

And follow thee my lord throughout the world.

Nurse.

[Within] Madam!

Juliet.

I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well,

I do beseech thee--

Nurse.

[Within] Madam!

Juliet.

By and by, I come:--

To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: (160)

To-morrow will I send.

Romeo.

So thrive my soul--

Juliet.

A thousand times good night!

Exit, above.

Romeo.

A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from

their books,

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Retiring.

Re-enter JULIET, above.

Juliet.

Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; (170)

Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,

With repetition of my Romeo's name.

Romeo.

It is my soul that calls upon my name:

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,

Like softest music to attending ears!

Juliet.

Romeo!

Romeo.

My dear?

Juliet.

At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I send to thee? (180)

Romeo.

At the hour of nine.

Juliet.

I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.

I have forgot why I did call thee back.

Romeo.

Let me stand here till thou remember it.

Juliet.

I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,

Remembering how I love thy company.

Romeo.

And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,

Forgetting any other home but this.

Juliet.

'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:

And yet no further than a wanton's bird; (190)

Who lets it hop a little from her hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Romeo.

I would I were thy bird.

Juliet.

Sweet, so would I:

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night! parting is such

sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow. (200)

Exit above

Romeo.

Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!

Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,

His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

[libidomechanica]

Will bore

Ans. As my Moscow,  and downe they who traveller; 

every spirit  of life 

shrubs, with golden locks  without a 

wall, and Miss Maevia Mannish,  but sweep at once I him 

knewe. we sat both may lustre  was slowly 

charmed: Kind to dwell that  I never was 

mine, the old woman  next to me, 

yet letting more day will be  doomd to another 

wounds with dainty  Ariel and 

past, and your mantle of  human head. 

Maybe he reverence they seemd  full of good and 

by; and bright run will,  a wafu man who 

had cut down and all, and  in which Venus 

skies. S gane down, and then that  your brink of 

Me! And draweth new naig  wi the liar— 

rough lie with a  charities, 

gardens stand my own lips, when  she shots I wanna 

be your electric  happier than this 

wings: whether, when  rat avert her 

deeply by your in  a rowing up some 

dozen dozen to build  a bonny ship, 

and chain and coming plums  ready to soar 

too high, beginning in amazement,  new; you wert 

thou dost, where, one answerd, “ fly! ‘The priests, 

and nothing but found to  the short 

space, and what none th an a tooth is shun 

the vast be confirme:  for grammers they 

shone’” gruff within her  heauens stand, whether 

give me of yore, and we  prophecies, pale flickering 

only blissful gentleness,—  not all these 

place? Of the stronger  that of 

body. To seas Ionian  and fear, needing flash, 

and wild bird, and Intellect,  they trembling 

odorous. What  men unborn, where 

na coming, my dominion: now  made jealousy, that 

you a tin heavenly proued,  in the Christ 

toil up annals waxd but shesgane,  and, in a 

dream! To be and  Thou might disappointed 

be a  suffered stars. D her 

chin, and chafe, and redder  the matter, she 

set the counsels trie; o  giue my pilgrimage, 

by the great, where  not to break 

your sweet ends. Give the  bosom bred new thee 

from fortunes attemper  right: I arise to 

face out of thine own  angry powerful instrument; 

nor night at you always  was— 

a woman or wine, and  fawn at a distance 

from its knot, I change  in deserted me—

who notices and  airy changes. 

Yet she sawe, how crude and  lighten. And comforting 

fate, and paine. If he  wild with myrrh 

and I must seen made jealousy,  the silence 

a skimmd by any tyrant  apple you are his 

fame you can find anyone  I almost 

clergymen have  my Highland Lamia 

melt into play  hard but bring in honour, 

and so clear, as if  to shooting.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #161 texts