Winners, and a gift for thee...

Your Will hath spent a long day and morn at the theatre, but I hath promised thee a champion for the prizes below, the book for posie and the mousepad, which Will believes must be a trap for pestes. We do offer our laurels to Rosin Kane, who hath won the book and a mousepad, and Donna Marie Hamilton, who hath won a Shakesblogging mousepad. For the rest of thee, groundlyngs, I do offer this door hanging. Thou mayest present it to thy printer on some sturdie page and share if thou wouldst. Eternally yours, Will.

Win a notebook and Shakesblogging mousepads :)

'Tis the weekend, and Will doubts not that ye hath good sport in minde. As for your gentle wright, I shall hie me to the Mermaid with Kit and Richard, perchance that sour sack Ben Jonson. I leave thee with this image of some gifts I would bestow upon thee. All thou must do is like this posting and I shall pluck out a champion or two on Monday eve. 'Tis a book for scribing thine own poesie and some thing ye moderns do call a "mousepad." Perhaps 'tis for trapping pests?

Hinky Pinkie

As thou likely knows't, your Will hath been progenitour to many words and phrases ye moderns use to this day. I am most fonde of using hinky pinkies, nonsense words that rhyme or half rhyme. Here are but a few:

Kit's recipes

Hrm...Kit hath offer'd ye this recipe for ale, groundlyngs. Will doth wonder if the man bee consuméd by some thing of late...'tis difficult to mark the matter with quill.

Need an insult?

Need an insult? Will doth have thee coveréd. Share with those who offend thee...

Ask Young Will

Dear Young Will,

How can you help me to succeed in my English literature exam on the morro?

Signed,
Weary-ey’d clerke

Dear Weary,

Will doth pray these words find thee in the mastery of thy subject since he couldst not aid thee readily. The query thou dost post might aide other clerkes, so Will revisits it now. ‘Tis best thy schoolmaster beat thee fastidiously if thou be’est a young lad; the whole of the continent doth finde that the heavy hand does reign in the wand’ring mind of the young scholar. If thou art of the older sorte, it may serve thee well to purchase as many candles and thou canst afford. Burn thy tapers late into the night, e’ry night, good clerke. In this way, thou wilt find thy efforts rewarded.

Eternally Yours,
Will

Dear Young Will,

Shakey, have you ever been in the situation where you lost your keys and mobile phone?

Signed,
Locked Out and Tuned Off

Dear Locked,

‘Zwounds – no one hath naméd your Will Shakey thus as I am constant as the North star. ‘Tis of little consequence, but no doubt thou hast kept company with that dunghill Ben Jonson and that catgut Robert Greene. As I keep me in a lodgehouse when I am in London, your Will does not carry his keys, but leaves them to his landlorde. When I carry me to Stratford, I come home to open house, and my Anne doth manage the keys. This is for the best; I have been known to lose many a quill from lodge to theatre and back agayn. Perhaps thou shouldst seek thee out a wife or man who can keep these safe for thee, from thy own failing minde? This strategie hast taken the burden from Will.

Eternally Yours,
Will

Dear Young Will,

Given the bloody awful weather in the UK, shall I compare thee (or anyone else) to a summer’s day?

Signed,

Cold Hearth, not Heart

Dear Cold Hearth,
Yes, if a person doth offend thee, and thou seek’st to twist thy meaning. As for Will, I hope I offend thee not and that thy e'ry summer day is milde as a newborne lamb.

Eternally Yours,
Will

Dear Young Will,

We are still wondering why you gave Anne your 2nd best bed…

Signed,
What’s in Will’s Will

Dear Will’s Will,

Your Will is fain to remove all mystery. This puzzle, then, I bequeath to ye moderns. ;)

Eternally Yours,
Will

Win a prize -- who is this?

Test thy mettle! Who is this? Send your answer to: dr.faustus@dulcevenenum.com to be entered into a drawing for a disappearing wives of Henry VIII mug! (Please don't post your answer here). Contest ends Wednesday, July 18. Good luck!

Contest!

Test thy mettle! Who is this? Send your answer to: dr.faustus@dulcevenenum.com to be entered into a drawing for a disappearing wives of Henry VIII mug! (Please don't post your answer here). Contest ends Tuesday, July 17. Good luck!

Words, words, words...

As thou likely knowst, Will hath been progenitour to many words and phrases ye moderns use to this day. In As You Like It, Jaques first uses the word "puking":


"They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms."

Tiny packages...

Good day, Groundlyngs! Will finds fairies have enter'd his minde agayn. Share with thy fierce little friends if thou feel it would amuse them.

Ask Young Will

Dear Young Will,

My girlfriend has started dressing as a man and has now taken to living in the forest with her cousin and a two-bit comedian. Any advice?

Signed,
Second Confused Fiddle

Dear Fiddle,

Thou hast not reveal’d whether or no thy lover’s vestements trouble thee, so Will must muse on thy sentiments. If yes, mayhap thou might ask of her to dress as Diana in front of thee, and Ganymede when she is in the forest with her cousin. ‘Tis well known that forests can prove dangerous for young maids, so it mayst be thy lady is preserving her maidenhead. If that be the matter, chide her not. More troublesome is her alignment with this Fool you mention. If he demonstrate no little knowledge of wit or truth, thou mayst be the Fool for pursuing thy relationship. Though Will be young, this he knowst well: thy future together will demand much patience if she bring the Fool to the churche door.

Eternally yours,
Will

Dear Young Will,

My good Will, woust thy know a remedy of old to be rid of a hostile tribe of mosquitoes? They be troublesome of late.

Signed,
Itchie Netherlands


Dear Netherlands,

There are a number of remedies the physicks do recommend. For the marks thou now beareth, rub thy welts with caterpillars applied with oyle. To prevent the pests from entering thy hearth, thou might seek out sulfur for to burne. Will hast not tested these remedies, yet they have some semblance of sense. Bothe the sulfur and the caterpillars must have a rottyn stenche. If this keep not the mosquitoes from storming thy castle, it may keepe away pests of the human kynde.

Eternally Yours,
Will

Dear Young Will,

If your King VI (3 parts) is your first play, were you competing with Marlow's Richard II?

Signed,
Kit’s Mom


Dear Kit’s Mom,

Verily, I understand thy position. Thy son hath gained prestige at The King’s School and agayn at Cambridge, yet the “unletter’d” glover’s son, to many, hath o’ershadowed his glorie. ‘Tis a bitter dram to swallow.

Will hath heard this charge with his own Merchant of Venice, which some say be my answer to Marlowe’s Jew of Malta since this latter was the toast of the theatre.

Though I hold my Kit dear, I tell you here: I did not hope to compete with, but to best. Whether ‘twas the result, I leave to the audiences.

If thou see thy childe before me, please remind the bugbear he doth owe me 4 shillings for the meate, ale, and lodging last month.

Eternally Yours,
Will

"Be not so phlegmatic!"

Greeting, fair groundlyngs! Will hath made for thee four trading cards that depict the humours of Galen. Here is Dr. Caius, as he is chided by Mistress Quickly.  Feel free to print at thy press or share with thy friends. I hope thou hast enjoyed these illuminations!

"This huge hill of flesh..."

Greeting, fair groundlyngs! Will hath made for thee four trading cards that depict the humours of Galen. Here is Falstaff, that lily-liver'd soldier. Feel free to print at thy press or share with thy friends. I shall post the remaining humour, the phlegmatic, anon.

Galen 2: melancholia

Greeting, fair groundlyngs! Will hath made for thee four trading cards that depict the humors of Galen. Here is Hamlet, the melancholy Dane. Feel free to print at thy press or share with thy friends. I shall post the remaining humors anon.

Galenic tradying cards for thee!

Greeting, fair groundlyngs! Will hath made for thee four trading cards that depict the humors of Galen. 'Tis well known our queen, faire as she be, hath an excess of cholera. Such excess can be befitting for a ruler -- but not for a common man such as you or I mayst be. Feel free to print at thy press or share with thy friends. I shall post the remaining humors anon.

Swinging from the gallows pole...

Need an insult? Will doth have thee cover'd. Feel free to tag those that annoy thee..

Kit's Devilishy Good Recipes: Jellied Eel

We have, of this day, receiv'd many requests for the pasty yeele I consum'd at the Cheshire Cheese. Forgive poor Will, ye groundlyngs, as he is the better scribe than cooke. Happily, Kit hath once again offer'd ye his concoction, this for jellied Thames eel. We hope it doth warm thy belly and please thy palate.

"A plague on them!"

Dear groundlyngs, I retired agayne to a publike house--though I wyseley chose a different house, the Cheshire Cheese this eve. As I sat downe with my yeele pasty and a tankard of the house ale, your Will hearde a commotion from the door as some roaring fellowe shouted.

"A plague on you, you young vipers," he called out to an unseen foe. "Jack o' th' Greene, slacke hayred Timmy, get away an I run ye through for vexing her Majesty's subjects! You plague-feweld dogs!"

I heard the lauchter of those two urchens as they ranne, and the new fellowe turned and slammed shut the door to the publike house. He seem'd a swollen bladder of a man, his belly, no, his bosoms, his thighs, his entire bodie bellied, his apparell bladdered to hold his bulke. From what I spied, his apparell was that of a Gentleman stretcht almost beyond boundes. What he wore had beene the garb in Mary's time--and he look'd also of those by-gone-days with the snowe upon his peakes. At his side in his belt he bore a Rapier that he likely only wyelded against the likes of Jack o' the Greene and Timmy in frustration.

"Ale, Francis, and be quicke," he called to the servyng boy. He noted my presence and my stare. "You are that player fellowe, William Shakaspear?"

"You've seen my playes, sir?" replies your Will.

He doffed his hatte. "Sir Jack Malapert, sirrah. I quite liked your Titus and that other playe--the one with good Sir Robin. Now there is a goode fellowe!"

"Many thanks, good Sir Jack," say I. "I take it Raggamuffin an' Raggmalle have vex'd you with their critikes?"

"A plague on them!" he roared agayne, turning back to th' door and shaking his fiste. "A pox on theyr unformed things!" He look'd to me again. "Yes, sirrah, they are always impudent. If they have vex'd thee as well, then let us drinke to the plague takyng their pocked tongues to Hell!"