RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: some backgrounds not alot ...3
=)
=)
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RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: some backgrounds not alot ...3
Okay, not a flame so much as being constructive now...
Posts that contain nothing but "=)" aren't really posts. They're a combination of items that really aren't typically seen next to each other, except in AIM.
Substance. What most art lacks and what your posts need to find.
Mal"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline."
"Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, I’ll give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor
My new novel:
Maledictions: The Offering.
Now in Paperback!Comment
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RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: some backgrounds not alot ...3
I'd like to get back on topic here, before this poor dude's topic gets admin'd.
Sweet designs, but I don't think you can submit those now for use if you've posted them here. =/ oh well.
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RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: some backgrounds not alot ...3
Count. In delivering my son from me, I bury
a second husband.
Ber. And I, in going, madam, weep o'er my
father's death anew; but I must attend his
majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward,
evermore in subjection.
Laf. You shall find of the king a husband,
madam; you, sir, a father. He that so generally
is at all times good, must of necessity hold his
virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it up
where it wanted rather than lack it where there
is such abundance.
Count. What hope is there of his majesty's
amendment?
Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians,
madam; under whose practices he hath per-
secuted time with hope, and finds no other
advantage in the process but only the losing of
hope by time.
Count. This young gentlewoman had a fa-
ther,—O, that 'had!' how sad a passage 'tis!—
whose skill was almost as great as his honesty;
had it stretched so far, would have made na-
ture immortal, and death should have play for
lack of work. Would, for the king's sake, he
were living! I think it would be the death of
the king's disease.
Laf. How called you the man you speak of,
madam?
Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession,
and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de
Narbon.
Laf. He was excellent indeed, madam: the
king very lately spoke of Him admiringly and
mourningly. He was skilful enough to have
lived still, if knowledge could be set up against
mortality.
Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king
languishes of?
Laf. A fistula, my lord.
Ber. I heard not of it before.
Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was
this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de
Narbon?
Count. His sole child, my lord; and be-
queathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes
of her good that her education promises: her
dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts
fairer; for where an unclean min-d carries vir-
tuous qualities, there commendations go with
pity; they are virtues and traitors too: in her
they are the better for their simplesness; she de-
rives her honesty and achieves her goodness.
Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from
her tears.
Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can sea-
son her praise in. The remembrance of her
father never approaches her heart but the
tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from
her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go to, no
more; lest it be rather thought you affect a
sorrow, than have it.
Hel. I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have
it too.
Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of
the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.
Hel. If the living be enemy to the grief, the
excess makes it soon mortal.
Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
Laf. How understand we that?
Count. Be thou blest, Bertram; and succeed
thy father
In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue
Contend for empire in thee; and thy goodness
Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more
will
That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck
down,
Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord;
'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,
Advise him.
Laf. He cannot want the best
That shall attend his love.
Count. Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.Comment
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RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: some backgrounds not alot ...3
face youre bane#TeamSwoll
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RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: some backgrounds not alot ...3
Bavarian waffle cakes.Comment
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