Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Dear Young Wills,
I am having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around some of the people in this brave new world. (You might want to take a peek at a few days' worth of political coverage to better aid me with this.) Can you offer me any advice aside from seeing a dagger before me?
Lovely and Less Temperate
Dear Lovely and Less Temperate,
‘Tis fitting thou lookest to mine playe of Macbeth, which doth present the bloodie consequences of war, my sweete and less temperate lady. I hath peek’d in the broadsheets of thy modern age, and I finde little difference from our England, when Lancaster and York brought much strife and woe to our faire lands. When a man doth set himself a course from whence he cannot lean, he becometh like Coriolanus, swaying not from his pathe no matter how muche bloode he shed or how muche sense be lost.
To thee, then, your Will doth suggest that thou taks’t note of Coriolanus’ ende and take care thine own bodie and noble minde suffereth not. Clinge to thy friends and loves, and thou wilt find thy journey that muche the better.
Dear Young Will,
I have a query can you help me? If you could make a more modern version of the plays would you? If you could use more modern terminology would it change the meaning of the plot & characters?
Your Elizabethan Englische Confoundeth Me
Thy querie doth remind your Will of the many days he hath spent, hunch’d over hornbooke beneathe the schoolmaster’s whip, with Latin set before me. Alas, I am that I am and canst speak nor write in any other tongue but mine own faire Englische.
If thou doth find thou suffer under the burden of mine poesie, mayhap it will unburden thee to finde a version of mine playes in your modern tounge, but mark: many of thy modern words wert engender’d by mine quill. I do wish thee well in thy quest.
Dear Young Will,
Billy, got plans to party it up for this week's blue moon?
Your Will hath passed the nights under blue moon, as he hath under so many moons, at the Mermaid with Kit and Dick, barmaids and Nashe, Ben and his dogge. We didst enjoy sturdie ale and wandered into streets here and there to watche the folke of London under the absurd moon. There were games afoote, to be certaine, those who didst foolishly believe their dancing under blue moon made them invisible to the eyes of men. Your Will hath been unwilling witness to many riders in the dark streets, but this blue moon didst give rise to much stair-work, trunke-work, behind-door work. There muste be manie a maide Monday morn who were sore from all this working. ;)
Hastow a question for Young Will? Leave thy query in the comments and I shall proffer thee advice anon. :)