A call for the diversions of Master Shakespeare

Ugh. It's a tale of a sodomite! I could never read such filth.

... not to be a prude though.

I understand if it is not your taste ... what say you about "The Faerie Queene" by Edmund Spencer ?

I've not read it. What be it about?

I am not sure, Elizabeth hath leant it to me but I hath not read it yet, she said you might like it

When you do, please tell me, I love to read. And not just naughty French romances, no matter what Elizabeth says. *Is obviously joking about the reference to Elizabeth not being bitchy ... this time*.

*laughs* I certainly will


Do you by chance know of or like the works of Edgar Allen Poe? He is very dark and broody ... being a brooding vampire I relate well to his tales of horror *grins*

I've never read any of his works. I've heard they are good, but I doth not like books that make me sad. I do much enjoy the poems of Lord Byron, and Mark Twain.

Ah I do as well, I also enjoy the poems of Oscar Wilde. I love tales that make me laugh, or make me sad, or frighten me, or make me think, I adore them all.

you are a true bibliophile. I shall read the work of Monsieur Poe forthwith and memorize them just for you. However I shall not read Mister Wilde, I wish not to encourage his vile arts.

Fair enough *smiles*

You shud try "Fall of the House of Usher" first or perhaps "Leap Frog" those are amoung my favorite of tales


Oh but his peotry you must read "The Raven" in it he mourns the loss of his beloved Lenore

The Raven ... very well, I shall. I shall recite it to you on our wedding day.

*smiles* that would please me ... and what shall I recite for you my love

For me ... recite a poem of your own composition.

I shall start imeadately and endeavor to compose something that is worthy of you

*As Elizabeth continues to paint a particularly detailed bit of background scenery she overhears the conversations and a piece of Lord Byron's poetry doth spring to her mind. She recites it quietly as she continues to paint, finding as always that poetic words do sooth her troubled heart*

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.

*Elizabeth knows that the mad bad and dangerous to know Lord Byron were a tortured soul, but his words are filled with great understanding and wise sense. She doth wonder if in years to come these words will apply to Marie... or whether they foretell how she wilt remember her once loyal Sir Nicholas when Marie's corruption of his kind soul is complete*

*Her words, softly spoken as there are, are perfectly audiable to vampire ears. Sir Nicholas, if her reads something into the he choose prose, says nothing. But a look of profound saddness creases his features and he is instantly plunged into a brooding silence.*