Monday, July 29, 2013

Need an insult? Will has you covered!

Good eve, groundlyngs! Your Will hath pass'd a good eve amoungst friends at the Mermaid, so that I am behind on mine postinges here. If thou needest an insult, perhaps this one will aide thee in thy contests. Feel free to share it with those who have neede of harsh wordes.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Need advice? Ask Young Will

Dear Young Will,

How can I get my infant to sleep at night?

Sleepless in Southampton

Dear Sleepless,

‘Tis a difficult question thou dost pose at your Will, as he hath not much knowledge on the raisinge of infants, so I didst pose thy querie to somme goode wyves of Londountown. For the moste, this restless infante troubled not these ladies as they didst turn them to a sounde wetnurse to raise until the babe was weaned. Mayhap thou may need’st seeke thee out a wetnurse to aide thee? Then mayest thou return to nights of untroubled slumber.

Eternally Yours,

Dear Young Will,

Do you have a homemade remedy for removing Damn Spots?

Lady M

Dear Lady M,

‘Tis another vexynge querie for Will today, one more suited to the womenfolk of mine age than a playwright. Here, your Will didst seeke out Good Kat, the launderwoman who doth take care of mine one vestments and linens in London. Every day, Kat doth collect the linens and goodes for cleaning from several of her customers, and she is skill’d in removing wines, blood, and the like. For the moste troublesome of spots, such as bloode, she doth swear by this recipe:

Take a pounde of roche Alome, beate it into pouder: the rootes of Iris of Florence made in pouder, halfe a pounde of new layed Egges, two pound and a halfe of Spanishe Sope, braye the sayde pouders with the Egges and Sope, and make thereof rounde balles. If one Egge be not inough take as many as you shall thinke good. And when you wyll take out any spott of grease, washe the place of the spott on both sydes of the cloth with fayre water, then rubbe it with the saide balles and cloth upon cloth. This done, washe out the odure with cleane water, and wring the clothe to make the grease or fylth come out the better. Then wash it still with cleane water, and it wyll be cleane.

I do sweare I hath the cleanest linens in all of London, so ‘tis like this recipe is true.

Eternally Yours,

*Hastow a question for Young Will? Ask it here in the comments.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Sonnet 154

Here thou may'st perceive mine sonnet 154, where one of Dian's nymphs didst try to quench the flames of love. If thou, like Will, dost burne from loves flames, though dost know how difficult this may prove to be...

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Will's yearbook: Ana de Mendoza

Here thou canst perceive another leaf of Will, his yearbooke, groundlyngs. This beautie is the Spanish Countess Ana de Mendoza. If thou dost seeke more leaves from mine yearbooke, thou canst finde these in the albums on Facebooke.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Need an insult? Will has you covered!

Tis Monday, and doubtless someone of waspish nature hath driven thee from thy nest with anger. Let said mann or woman knowe by taggine him or her here or sharinge this image if thou wilt.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Need an insult? Will has you covered...

'Tis Monday, and doubtless thou hath passed a weekende around some goose or 'nother who feigneth innocence. Let the one who doth offend thee know by sharing this image or taggine him or her here.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Will's Monday Insult

'Tis Monday, and doubtless some cur hath doggéd thy heels all day. Let the beast know thy sentiments by tagginge him or her on Facebok @ Shakesblogging or sharing it with thy friends.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Shakespeare on vacation

I do but pray thou wilt forgive your poor Will, faire gentiles, as I hath not penned an entry here of late. Your Will hath founde himself in Stratford, where the connection to your moderne internet doth wane as the crescent moon into the night sky. I prithee will finde some joy in your Will's delight in his babes, young Judith and Hamnet. I was supris'd to finde them wait for mine arrival on the stoop of our house, dressed in the moste foppish of Italian fashions. Their mother took suche pains to have them vested so, and they look'd at me so earnestlie, with such eagerness for kinde word, that I could not but laugh and pet their gentle faces.