Kit vs. the Greene-eye'd monster

‘Twas a passing good time at the Mermaid until that lily livr’d whoreson Robert Greene joined our merry party.  Your Will paid him no heed, but his boastful words did not sit well with Kit, who dous’d the knave with ale. Greene screamed, "Marlowe brings woe, and sorrow hates despair!" But Kit lauched and replyed, "Confess thou suck'st stale and bee hang'd, thou jigging dog!" Then Kit did bleede Greene alle upon th' floor and collected his due whilst your Will kept lookout for agents o' the Crown and th' Constabularies.  We scattered as an agent heard the uproar, run through the dark streets and laugh’d at Robert’s baptism-in-ale.  Kit had stolen two vessels in the upheaval, and we do offer them now to you, Groundlings!  All thou must needs do is share this image, and we shall enter thy name in the drawing, to be held Friday, the 29^th of June. 

At long last -- the weekend

The weekend is upon us, Groundlings! After the spectacles of this weeke, I do think I shall hie me with Kit to the Mermaid and make merrie. Will doth wish thee well this night and all to come.

Words, words, words...

As thou likely knows't, Will hath been progenitor to countless words and phrases ye moderns use to this day. The phrase "green-eyed monster" -- meaning one who doth covet some thing another hath -- I didst first write in mine tragedie of Othello.

1,000 fans = giveaway!

Will hath 1,000 fans on Facebook, and he doth love thee, er'yone!

From your admins: thank you so much for supporting Shakespblogging! The idea here is fun with a purpose for fans of the Bard. We'd like to give away Skyrim to one of you, but Facebook has changed the way we can access the list of fans here, so please like this status on Facebook to be entered into the drawing. Will shall pluck out a champion Wednesday, June 20. :)

Kit's Devilish Treats

Dear groundlings, if thou, like Will, doth suffer under Phoebus' unwav'ring eye, thou might find this recipe of Kit Marlowe's dost quench thy thirst. He hath given me leave to share it with thee. :)

Every man a critike

O fiendish blaze! O fiendish Kit, guessing my word of passage! But I return, friends, and have dispatched Reynarde to his dens and pubs agayne. Dear groundlyngs, though th' fever o' th' hay has pass'd, I sweltreth under the oppressive heate of Londontown in the summer. What's more, friends, with the raines, I have been assaulted as well by humid vapours and the heat, which agrees not with your Will's pate and browes...or brieches and shoes!

But beyond such, I chanced upon Jack of the hewes again--that urchen who accoasted me last November--who with a new companion had returned. "This's my friend, Timmy," he announced.

Groanyng and sigheing, I nodded. "How fare you both, Jack and Timmy?"

"My ma' says thou couldn't pen thine way out a' a romantic comedy even if Eros hisself tol' thee how," Timmy sais.

O vexatious little men! Why doth every person think they are critikes? I hurried on to the shade by th' river for a spot of dinner and peace.

An insult, from Will

By the gods! It be'est only Wednesday? If thou, like poor Will, doth feel the need to strike a fool, know that I do have thee cover'd. Thou canst share this insult or send the blackguards this image.