#and beatrice wants him dead for that. and is benedick’s love great enough that he will kill for her?
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can i be honest for a sec? i kind of don’t like the david tennant + catherine tate much ado.
truly just personal preference but i hate the direction of the confession scene, it takes all of the gravity and weight out of the previous scene, hero’s humiliation, claudio’s betrayal, beatrice’s anger…. i understand the intention: love is a funny, embarrassing, human thing! but i also think that the tone shift ends up being so jarring and bizarre and ultimately doesn’t work very well with the themes of the text.
anyways everyone go watch the 2019 shakespeare in the park Much Ado it’s on archive.org and it’s FANTASTIC!
#truly my favorite thing about much ado is the way it VERGES on tragedy. if one thing had been different in that story it would have all gone#so very very tragically and i love that it doesn’t! and i love the sudden genre shock in the middle of the text like fuck it’s good#claudio’s rage and beatrice’s ‘kill claudio’ are SOOOO shocking and sobering from the humor and revelry of the rest of the piece and they’re#such a stark difference to the previous scenes. they make you stop and go. oh. he ruined hero’s life on a whim#and beatrice wants him dead for that. and is benedick’s love great enough that he will kill for her?#somebody take me home i’m thinking about the way much ado was very nearly a tragedy again#lu.txt#shakespeare#much ado about nothing
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Q&A August: Austin Tichenor of the Reduced Shakespeare Company
They say you should never meet your heroes, but obviously “they” were never enlightened enough to consider Austin Tichenor of the Reduced Shakespeare Company a hero. Like many Shakespeare geeks, I was exposed to Reduced Shakespeare Company’s performance of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) at an impressionable young age. Once the DVD came out, I watched it over and over again, soaking up the irreverence and affection for Shakespeare like a sponge. It never occurred to me that I would one day meet the curly-haired pompous idiot in the black pants whose antics had entertained me so much, let alone be lucky enough to call him a friend, but that’s exactly what has happened.
I first met Austin (after exchanging mutually admiring tweets with him) in April of 2016, during their world premiere of William Shakespeare’s Long Lost First Play (abridged) at the Folger Library. I was prepared to be utterly starstruck, but Austin was so wonderfully down-to-earth that within minutes I felt like I’d known him forever. Totally lacking the pomposity and idiocy of his stage persona, Austin was overwhelmingly encouraging and supportive of my work, immediately welcoming me to play with him in the Shakespeare comedy sandbox. I had literally just started working full-time on Good Tickle Brain, so his enthusiasm meant the world to me.
I could gush about Austin for many more paragraphs, but I’m sure you’d rather hear from him, so here he is, my Comedy Fairy Godfather, in his own words!
1. Who are you? Why Shakespeare?
I’m Austin Tichenor, a playwright, director, and actor. I'm the co-artistic director of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, a three-person comic theatre troupe that reduces long serious topics into short silly comedies.
My first exposure to Shakespeare was undoubtedly in the original series of Star Trek! I read Shakespeare in high school English classes and got to see fantastic productions of Shakespeare at American Conservatory Theatre in San Francisco and the Berkeley Reprtory Theatre, but I didn’t get to actually WORK on Shakespeare until grad school where I both played Claudius in a production of Hamlet and reduced my first Shakespeare (it was a directorial exercise: a five minute reduction of Much Ado About Nothing). My first professional theatre job was creating plays for young people so I went to Shakespeare immediately, creating 45 minute cuttings of Much Ado, Midsummer, and The Tempest.
So the opportunity to join the RSC in 1992 and perform its signature work The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) (written by the RSC’s founders) in London’s West End for eight months combined all my theatrical loves: smart silly comedy, non-realistic theatricality, and Shakespeare — which is kinda redundant, now that I think about it
2. What moment(s) in Shakespeare always make you laugh?
My favorite moments are typically when characters make incredible discoveries about themselves, and these are usually comic. Malvolio’s “I am…happy!” Terrible actor Francis Flute fully committing to the moment on “Dead, my dove?” Benedick’s “There’s a double meaning in that.” Hamlet toying with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, or telling Claudius he “shall nose” the dead Polonius as he goes upstairs. Olivia’s “Most wonderful!” when the penny drops and she realizes “Cesario” is actually Viola (and Sebastian’s twin).
3. What's a favorite Shakespearean performance anecdote?
I have two!
1) We were performing William Shakespeare’s Long Lost First Play (abridged) for the Shakespeare Theatre Association conference — the savviest and most knowledgeable group of people I’ll probably ever perform for, ever. I was playing Richard III and limping downstage to say my first line, one of the most famous first lines in all of Shakespeare. But I was distracted because I saw there were people sitting on the sides and I didn’t want to limp too far downstage for them to see — and in my distraction I said, “Now is the moment of our...” As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I knew I’d blown the line (it’s supposed to be “Now is the winter of our discontent”) and I knew I couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t happened; not in front of that crowd, not in our style of show. So I quite audibly said, “Oh f&$# me,” and limped back offstage to come in again. This time I said the line right and emphasized the first word: “Now is the winter of our discontent!” It brought down the house and everyone asked whether I’d planned it. Sigh…no, I hadn’t.
Mya interjects: I was in the house for this performance and this moment remains one of the highlights of my theatre-going career. What Austin neglects to mention here is that Reed, who had been left alone onstage after Austin had retreated, went over to the wings as if to confer with Austin, and said, sotto voce, “No, I don’t think anybody noticed.”
2) We were performing The Complete Works on a stage that had a little runway that circled the orchestra pit. In one of the scenes, Adam Long (one of the RSC’s founding members) decided to hop over the pit, from the stage to the runway, and he ended breaking the runway floor and falling through the boards. Thankfully uninjured, and delighted that he had this opportunity, he immediately uttered the immortal words, “Don’t worry, it’s just a stage I’m going through."
4. What's one of the more unusual Shakespearean interpretations you've either seen or would like to see?
I’m glad that nowhere in here have you asked what my favorite play is. I don’t have favorite Shakespeare plays, but I do have favorite productions. Here are two:
1) The Folger Theatre at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington DC’s production of Love’s Labor’s Lost was delightful from start to finish: Incredibly smart, wildly funny, and wonderfully charming. The director and her team made the King’s desire for “a little academe” quite literal by re-creating the Folger Library’s handsome reading room onstage. (I wrote about this terrific production here.)
2) The Chicago Shakespeare Company production of The Tempest, co-directed by Aaron Posner and the magician Teller, turned Prospero into an actual wizard and filled the production with literal magic. (There must have been magic in Shakespeare’s original production as the First Folio has a stage direction that mentions that characters disappear by means of “a quaint device”. Teller filled his production with many quaint magic tricks and devices!) With music by Tom Waits and great comedy from its clowns, it was the most entertaining and completely realized production of The Tempest I've ever seen.
Favorite moments?
When Henry IV (Jeremy Irons) slaps his snotty son Prince Hal (Tom Hiddleston) in The Hollow Crown adaptation of Henry IV, Part 1 taking him (and the audience) by total surprise.
When Francis Flute’s (Sam Rockwell) emotions bubble to the surface unexpectedly in the ridiculous “Pyramus and Thisbe” in the film version of Midsummer.
When Juliet (Claire Danes) stirs and almost wakes up in time to prevent Romeo (Leonardo DiCaprio) from killing himself in Baz Lurhmann’s Romeo + Juliet.
When Antigonus (Gregory Linington) distracted the Bear, dooming himself but preventing the death of Perdita, in the Goodman Theatre production of one of my least favorite plays The Winter’s Tale.
5. What's one of your favorite Shakespearean "hidden gems”?
The hidden gem of Shakespeare is actually right out in the open: He’s written incredibly theatrical plays, filled with rich and elusive characters that still fascinate us 400 years later, and even the most serious of his plays (including his Histories and especially his Tragedies) contain more comedy than is generally realized (or pulled off). Shakespeare was a showman whose livelihood depended on entertaining his audiences, so he created plays filled with music, devices, comic bits, fascinating characters, time jumps, changing perspectives, and shifting tones that are always serious (especially his Comedies) but never solemn.
(You don’t ask what my Shakespearean pet peeve but here it is: Productions that lack urgency and ignore the above, as in: Comedies that are beautiful-looking and melancholy but not funny. Histories that ignore the comic chaos that Shakespeare layers in. Tragedies that are one-note, over-the-top, and not in any way believable. Romances that equate pastoral with languid and not compelling. Argh.)
6. What passages from Shakespeare have stayed with you?
Oh so many...
Beatrice’s “Kill Claudio,” which comes seemingly out of the blue and yet is so right.
Falstaff’s honor speech, when done right, in front of a live audience.
And I find Miranda’s “O brave new world that hath such people in’t” just incredibly moving. (I’m always moved by Joy. Tragedy can suck it.)
Mya interjects: “Tragedy can suck it” might be my new personal motto now. Thanks, Austin.
7. What Shakespeare plays have changed for you?
Henry VI, Part 1. Reading it again recently, I was struck by the level of chaos Shakespeare depicts in a kingdom struggling without a ruler. It’s almost like Monty Python meets Veep: Sentences can’t get finished because people are running in and out, declaring “I’m in charge! I’m in charge!” with grand impotence. Of course Shakespeare would write it like that: He needed to entertain his audience, who were probably also nervous about their aging queen who had yet to declare a successor. Shakespeare created a chaotic warning that England shouldn’t descend into that kind of comically dangerous madness again — a warning that wasn’t really heeded, unfortunately.
8. What Shakespearean character or characters do you identify the most with?
Having played so many of them (albeit in reduced forms), that’s a tough call. But because I’m also an actor and a playwright, the ones I probably identify with the most are Shakespeare's seemingly autobiographical ones: Peter Quince, the only (I think) actor-playwright in the canon. Hamlet, the Danish prince with surprisingly strong opinions about theatre’s power and how certain speeches should be played (and how annoying comedians can be). Benedick, who struggles with his writing so comically. Suffolk, who in Henry VI, Part 1 declares, “I’ll call for pen and ink and write my mind.” And Bottom, of course, who thinks he can play anything.
Mya interjects: PETER QUINCES OF THE WORLD, UNITE!
9. Where can we find out more about you? Are there any projects/events you would like us to check out?
I’ve spent the last several years doing incredibly deep dives into Shakespeare, across many media:
My RSC partner Reed Martin and I wrote Pop-Up Shakespeare, an incredibly fun (and useful) introduction to the Bard’s life and works with beautiful, amazing, and funny illustrations by Jennie Maizels.
I contribute monthly essays about the intersection between Shakespeare and popular culture for the Folger Shakespeare Library’s Shakespeare & Beyond blog.
My weekly podcast (now in its 13th year) is a backstage glimpse into the life and works of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, featuring interviews with our many comedian, actor, playwright, author, director, composer, dramaturg, and artist friends and many many deep dives into matters Shakespearean.
Reed and I also wrote the definitive irreverent reference book, Reduced Shakespeare: The Complete Guide for the Attention-Impaired (abridged), which is still inexplicably in print (perhaps cuz it’s definitive).
We also wrote the stage play William Shakespeare’s Long Lost First Play (abridged) (“An absolute resolute hoot of a bawdy comedy of errors!” Broadway World), which premiered at the Folger Theatre in 2016, has toured the US and the UK, and is available for licensing via Broadway Play Publishing.
And in November 2019, the RSC will perform the international premiere in Israel of our brand new script Hamlet’s Big Adventure (a prequel) — what would happen if Tom Stoppard wrote Muppet Babies. It’s the comedy of the Prince of Denmark!
If after reading all this, for some insane reason you still want to get in touch, come find me here on Twitter. I think Mya will agree that it’s a much more civilized and fun place than its reputation suggests.
(Back to Mya) Thanks so much to Austin for taking the time to answer my questions! If you want to HEAR us actually talking to each other check out:
Reduced Shakespeare Co. Podcast #493
Reduced Shakespeare Co. Podcast #532
Reduced Shakespeare Co. Podcast #653
Q&A August continues next week with two phenomenal women who are using Shakespeare to build the most amazing things.
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This should have been the last day of the kinkmeme. But me and the other moderators decided that it’s easy enough to just keep it open.
So the Corsets&Lemon anonymous kinkmeme is just going to stay open
YAY!
You can go here and see if you want to leave a prompt or fullfill one! Or just if you want to lurk and read some of the great stuff that’s already there!
Here a list of the AMAZING stuff that has been created up until this point.
Much ado about Nothing - Beatrice/Benedick hate sex (art)
Macbeth - Lady Macbeth/Macbeth (tw: violence) femme!dom with blood play (art)
Romeo and Juliet - Juliet Capulet/Romeo Montague (tw: necrophilia) Romeo wants to die while he fucks his dead Juliet one last time. (complete fic)
King Lear - Goneryl/ Regan/Cordelia (tw: incest) flogging (art)
Romeo and Juliet - Juliet Capulet/Romeo Montague (tw: underage) mutual masturbation (art)
Romeo and Juliet - Friar Lawrence/Juliet Capulet(tw: underage) Priest kink (art)
Othello - Othello/Desdemona/Iago Threesome (bisexual!Iago) (art)
The Merchant of Venice - Antonio/Shylock(tw: dub-con) Shylock is getting a pound of flesh nonetheless (complete fic)
Roxana: The Fortunate Mistress - Amy/ Mr.-----/Susan(tw: dub-con) Roxana(Susan) coaxes/forces her maid Amy into sex with her live-in love (complete fic)
rpf - Mary Shelley/Percy Bysshe Shelley/Lord Byron Exhibitionism (art)
Wuthering Heights - Catherine Earnshaw/Heathcliff (tw: underage) first teenage fumblings in the moor (complete fic)
Le Comte de Monte-Cristo/The Count of Monte-Cristo - Albert De Morcerf/The Count Masturbating/Sexual Fantasies (complete fic)
Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy Christening every single room of pemberley. (complete fic)
Boule de suif - Boule de Suif/Cornudet He feels horribly and he tries to make up for it. (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato Neck Kissing (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Agnese Mondella/Perpetua Distracting Perpetua (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Bortolo Castagneri/Lucia Mondella/Renzo Tramaglino(tw: incest) Post-canon threesome (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Conte Zio/Padre Provinciale Less standard methods of payment (complete fic)
Jane Eyre - Jane Eyre/Edward Rochester hair pulling (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Renzo Tramaglino/Bortolo Castagneri(tw: incest) hurt/comfort (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato body worship (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato bathing together (complete fic)
Wuthering Heights - Hareton Earnshaw/Catherine Linton Praise kink (complete fic)
Notre-Dame de Paris - Esmeralda/Fleur de Lys Fleur De Lys wants to see with her own eyes the dancer for which her fiancé has lost his mind. (complete fic)
La lupa - Gnà Pina/Nanni first time (complete fic)
The Goblin Market - Laura/Lizzie(tw: incest) Sucking on something sweeter than fruit (complete fic)
The Three Musketeers series/ The d'Artagnan Romances - D'artagnan/Rochefort They did learn to respect each other (complete fic)
Pinocchio - Blue Fairy/Geppetto(tw: dub-con) Punishing the father for the son's misdeeds (complete fic)
Frankenstein - Creature/Elizabeth Lavenza/Victor Frankenstein wedding night threesome (art) (Direct link)
Frankenstein - Creature/Victor Frankenstein Giving him a good fuck (art)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Lucia Mondella/Gertrude Strap on (art)
Jane Eyre - Bertha Rochester/Edward Rochester (tw: non-con) Locked in the attic (art)
Jane Eyre/Wuthering Heights - Edward Rochester/Heathcliff Brooding sex (art)
Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy Leaving the cravat on (art)
Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy Pregnant baby bump (art)
Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy Sexually frustrated dry humping (art)
Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet/Caroline Bingley(tw: dub-con) Caroline seduces Elizabeth away (art)
Ligeia - Ligeia/Rowena Trevanion ghost sex (art)
Alice in wonderland/Through the looking-glass - Alice/Others (tw: dub-con, underage, bestiality) sex pollen (complete fic)
Alice in wonderland/Through the looking-glass - Gryphon/Mock Turtle (tw: bestiality) Lobster Quadrille (complete fic)
Carmilla - Carmilla/Laura(tw: non-con) Sleep sex (complete fic)
Christabel - Christabel/Geraldine What they did that night (complete fic)
David Copperfield - Little Em'ly/other Little Em'ly--has an educational encounter with a lady who saves Fallen Women. (complete fic)
Dracula - Mina Murray/Lucy Westenra (tw: dub-con)Lucy feeds on Mina, turns her into a vampire (complete fic)
Frankenstein - Creature/Elizabeth Lavenza frankenstein meets a paradise lost (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato Soiling kink (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato Priest kink (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/ The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato Soiling kink (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/ The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato Innominato crying during sex (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/ The Bethroted - Cardinal Federico Borromeo/Innominato Confession/priest kink (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Lucia Mondella/Gertrude Corruption of the innocent. (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/The Bethroted - Lucia Mondella/Gertrude Strap on
I Promessi Sposi/ The Bethroted - Lucia Mondella/Gertrude Using a crucifix (complete fic)
I Promessi Sposi/ The Bethroted - Lucia Mondella/Renzo Tramaglino First Time (complete fic)
Jane Eyre - Bertha Rochester/Edward Rochester (tw: non-con) Locked in the attic (complete fic)
Jane Eyre - Jane Eyre/Edward Rochester first wedding night (complete fic)
Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet/Georgiana Darcy/Fitzwilliam Darcy (tw: incest) Daddy/mommy kink (complete fic)
Pride and Prejudice - Georgiana Darcy/Fitzwilliam Darcy (tw: incest, underage) Darcy comforts Georgiana (complete fic)
rpf - Friedrich Engels/Karl Marx “we have nothing to loose but our chains” (complete fic)
Strange Case if Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde - Edward Hyde/Gabriel John Utterson(tw: underage) seduced by your old friend's nasty younger boyfriend (complete fic)
The Count of Monte Cristo - Eugenie Danglars/Louise d'Armilly Eating out her friend in the carriage (complete fic)
The Little Mermaid - Little Mermaid/Sea Witch the Sea Witch offers the Little Mermaid true immortality (complete fic)
The Secret Garden - Colin Craven/Mary Lennox/Dickon Sowerby (tw: incest) Colin Likes to Watch Mary and Dickon (complete fic)
The Secret Garden - Colin Craven/Mary Lennox/Dickon Sowerby (tw: underage, incest) Colin Mary and Dickon play doctor (complete fic)
The Secret Garden - Mary Lennox/Dickon Sowerby(tw: underage) Mary and Dickon celebrate spring in the garden (complete fic)
The Three Musketeers series/ The d'Artagnan Romances - Athos/D'artagnan Reunion sex (complete fic)
The Three Musketeers series/ The d'Artagnan Romances - Athos/D'artagnan Reunion sex (complete fic)
The Vampyre - Aubrey/Lord Ruthven(tw: dub-con) spiralling down a vortex of attraction and loathing (complete fic)
Treasure Island - Jim Hawkins/Long John Silver(tw: dub-con, underage) Silver teaches his pupil how to be a wicked pirate (complete fic)
Vingt mille lieues sous les mers/ Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea - Pierre Aronnax/Captain Nemo(tw: bestiality) Tentacle porn (complete fic)
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Top 5 Breakdowns over David Tennant- any fandom/show/ play you've seen? I really liked the dw one you did, just hoping you could expand over/ include other things he's been in.
Oh anon you are QUITE the enabler thank you.
So this is like half actual breakdown list and half just like David Tennant recommendations in general because I love that funky little scot.
+1. This isn’t going on the official list because I already did the previous list you mentioned (i’m glad you liked it, btw!!!) but yeah. Doctor Who. He plays the doctor in a very fuckin uhh mercutial way (he plays a lot of characters that way and I am 100% enamored by it every fuckin time he just does it SO WELL AUGH) and like highs were so high and the lows were so low and he was so FURIOUS AND CRUEL but also so GENTLE AND KIND and like oof!! The multifacetedness bitch!!!! That’s what it’s all about babey!!!
5. Good omens. I mean, duh. There was no fucking way I was gonna survive good omens. Like, honestly, even without miss tennant I wouldn’t have survived it because HA HA HA HA H O L Y SHIT MY FAVORITE BOOK FOR THE LAST DECADE WAS GETTING AN ACTUAL SCREEN ADAPTATION I GENUINELY DID NOT THINK WE WOULD EVER BE HERE THIS SHIT IS LIT. but then but THEN it was like. The way that he portrayed crowley definitely fit into a particular niche that david tennant KILLS. Like god okay I could spend an whole fucking essay on this point so I’m gonna distill this down to just. THE moment that I was like “okay okay okay okay fuck I’m GOING THROUGH IT” was when his voice cracks as he tells aziraphale that he lost his best friend because like in context OOF and out of context I have been Pavlovian trained for the past decade to Utterly Lose My Shit when David Tennant is like this close to crying and he expresses that with his whole body THE ASSHOLE! LET ME REST. I THOUGHT I WAS OVER THIS MISTER!!
4. The Escape Artist. Lesser known (I think?), but a VERY GOOD miniseries! The tone is much darker, and he’s a much more serious character. Similar vibes, role wise, to broadchurch. I’m not sure how much rewatch value it has but watching it for the first time had me like MISSION STATUS: SICK!!!! It’s like a cat and mouse mystery and like. I’m not gonna go to in depth into the story because I think it’s more enjoyable to go into it not knowing much and too me it was one of those things that took like 3 hours to watch all of and a full week or two to like. Process. Also I’m not usually one for drama and I was ABOUT it so I would recommend!!!
3. JESSICA JONES (season 1). Holy FUCK dude. Definitely his darkest and most evil role, and the subject matter is VERY heavy and I definitely would NOT recommend it for everyone because it could be, how you say, triggering as fuck or even just because it is incredibly dark and that might not be your thing. Funnily enough, it’s DEFINITELY not my thing, personally, I tend to avoid narratives about sexual assault because so many of them are, uh, ya know, bad, but Jessica Jones season 1 really is done FANTASTICALLY! The David Tennant breakdown was just a level of cognitive dissonance because I had never seen him play like a VILLAIN villain. I mean, yeah, he was Barty Crouch Jr., but that was for like 30 seconds and while the dude was creepy there was a layer of campy over the topness that is present in most fun fantasy franchises. I remember when he was cast as the purple man me and my parents were like. Yeah he’ll obviously crush the role because he’s talented but in the back of our minds we’ll probably still be thinking of like the doctor and I wonder if we can fully accept him playing the role. Yeah there was fucking NONE OF THAT. When he played Purple Man I never ONCE thought of his other roles and I didn’t even, like, think of David Tennant, ya know. I was just like oh shit this man is evil and terrifying and I want him dead! Please die!!! And yes, I know that that’s how acting works or whatever but also ACTING ya know!!! Of any of the roles on this list this one definitely made me be the most like SHE HAS THE RANGE because I really think it highlights how INCREDIBLY GOOD at his job he is!!! I have not ever rewatched Jessica Jones season 1 though because while it is honestly like a triumph of television it is also A Lot to deal with and I am very rarely in the kind of mindset where I’m able to watch it. But yeah. David Tennant knows what the fuck he’s doing and it is very good.
2. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING BABEY. Literally I knew nothing about the play or why I should care but the promo material was like. Catherine Tate and David Tennant are costars again and I was like OKAY SIGN ME THE FUCK UP HELL YEAH HELL YEAH HELL YEAH. For real I think on screen chemistry Catherine Tate and David Tennant are one of if not just straight up my favorite duo of all time. They are just so DELIGHTFUL and ENCHANTING and BEWITCHING and basically I want them to costar in everything ever. @azirafeathers was like “sherlock holmes adaptation where she’s sherlock and he’s watson” and I haven’t stopped thinking about that since!!! I would give my left thumb or at least like a solid $60 to see that. Like PLEASE it would be PERFECT. I LOVE THEM. And god this production of much ado is definitely like. “Here’s Benedick and Beatrice. They’re two chaotic dumbass bisexuals that are like fives on the kinsey scale and they fall in love much to their surprise” and it’s TERRIFIC. That’s exactly what I like to see. Like it’s set in the 80s and the set design? The visual gags? The costumes? The soundtrack? THE PHYSICAL COMEDY? It all SLAPS. David Tennant really balances “fun and funky slut” and “utterly PINING idiot” so fucking well. I have said it before and I will say it again David Tennant peaks when Catherine Tate is being mean to him. Also really iconic to give him the role that is like the only man in the play that is (after a bit) CHUGGING his respect women juice. I mean LOOK at this utter buffoon.
I’m in love. This play made me a proud morosexual. Plus it’s all FREE ON YOUTUBE THE NEXT TIME YOU HAVE THREE HOURS AND WANT TO HAVE A GOOD FUCKIN TIME GO WATCH MUCH ADO!!
1. H A M L E T. So imagine that you’re 14 and it’s 3 am and you’re casually watching David Tennant’s hamlet on youtube or at least the parts they put up and you’re painting stars on your ceiling with glow in the dark paint and it makes you realize that you have an excess of black bile and a melancholic temperment and you’ll understand why, while this might not be my all time favorite david tennant role (though it definitely is high up on the list) , this is absolutely my number one David Tennant Related Breakdown. Hoo boy. This probably doesn’t come as a shock to literally anybody that knows me irl bc I Will Not shut up about Hamlet and it is this productions fault. Different people will respond differently too it, and I’m definitely 1000% biased because a: I love him and b: it was the first production I ever watched and it’s what got me On My Bullshit, but this production honestly makes me like. Get Hamlet. Or not get hamlet, personally, as a character, we’re never meant to fully understand him honestly, but it made me understand the ALLURE of the play. I watched it and I was like oh. Yeah. Okay. I can see why people have been obsessed with this for 400 years. I know why it’s considered one of the greatest roles and one of the greatest plays of all time. And I went absolutely feral for it. It solidified Horatio permanently as one of my all time favorite characters in anything ever. David Tennant has this tendency to put manic and desperate energy into the characters that he plays, and that of course works extremely well for hamlet. Plus, like, he plays characters that are drowning, that need the assistance and kindness of love to try and float, and even with that might not be able to keep their heads above water, and the characters that are opposite him are basically always wonderful. Because I am deeply deeply predictable, the core dynamic of Hamlet and Horatio’s relationship is probably like THE most appealing and interesting and important aspect of the play to me, and Peter de Jersey (who is absolutely INCREDIBLE in this production) and David Tennant pull it of breathtakingly beautifully. Every time I watch this I have to lie down for a while. Every time I THINK about this I have to lie down for awhile. So, yeah, number one David Tennant based breakdown is over his hamlet.
Honorable mentions
this gifset-I have not seen what this is actually from but it made me have a conniption. I’m in love with her. She’s my idealized self. I don’t know what to do with myself. I spent 5 hours looking at this now. What the fuck.
The Decoy Bride- I didn’t have a breakdown over it BUT it is a recommendation. Very silly rom com, very much a comfort movie like music and lyrics or singing in the rain for me. Great for sleep overs or rainy sunday afternoons.
Richard II- I haven’t seen it but based on one (1) clip and some stills I would be lost in the sauce for a week after a viewing.
Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger- watch nativity 2 danger in the manger.
Fright Night- jesus fucking CHRIST mister tennant went full slut
Casanova- Mister Tennant Goes Full Slut part 2- has blue colored contacts and it’s weird
#anon#replies#sorry this took a hot minute but i wrote uhh#squints at the screen#1700 words on david tennant making me lose it jesus christ#Anonymous
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How exactly do you think whatever happened between Ben and Bea the week after Heros birthday came about? It just seems random that all of a sudden they're working together
Some of this is answerable, I think, by looking to Much Ado About Nothing, where the immediate aftermath of Claudio’s big scene is actually shown. Benedick is the first to speak after they leave, and the first thing he asks is how Hero is doing. Then he helps to try to figure out how to fix the situation. Then he asks how Beatrice is, and assures her that he believes Hero. And then he tells her he loves her, and Beatrice breaks and says she loves him too.
Now imagine the NMTD version of that: Pedro and Claudio storm off one way, Bea leads Hero off the other way, and Ben goes after Bea and Hero. You can imagine the rest of the night. Bea comforts Hero; Hero says that she didn’t do anything; the people who’ve remained (Ben, probably Balthazar, probably Ursula) tell her they believe her; Ben futzes around getting tea; everyone goes home. And then the next day, Ben texts Bea with, “How’s Hero?” and “How can I help?” And Bea just doesn’t have the energy or the will to keep up the pretense that she hates him anymore.
The thing is, Bea’s really great at bullshitting herself. She spends years telling herself she hates Ben, she doesn’t want a relationship, she’s definitely 100% always right, because she doesn’t want to admit that she loves Ben, and Ben’s past immaturity hurt her, and it could hurt her again. And maybe if nothing had happened, Bea would have gradually let go of that, because that’s generally how people grow out of their self-deceptions: a little bit at a time.
But sometimes, things happen that just cut through the bullshit. You know the trope where, like, the star-crossed lovers are on the outs, and then Something Terrible Happens and one of them is afraid that the other’s dead, and after it’s over they make up because, “I just realized that if anything had happened to you…”? It’s super melodramatic, but there’s a grain of truth to it. Death, disaster, danger – they have a way of clarifying things, if only for a moment. When something truly bad goes down in the life of a friend you’re fighting with, you forget the fight for a little while.
So everything blows up, and in that moment, Bea sees Ben, who’s just let go of his own bullshit, who she never really hated, reaching out to help and being there for her, and it’s just immediate clarity. Of course they’re friends. Of course she’ll accept his help. Of course she loves him.
But then – and I think this is incredibly important – the crisis ends, and everybody goes back to real, day-to-day life. The clarity fades; it always does. A crisis may briefly remind you of what you really care about, but if you can’t live with that decision in your everyday life, it doesn’t matter much. (To go back to our star-crossed lovers, when the sun comes up the next day, they’re still going to be star-crossed. Unless they’re willing to defy their families on a day when no one is dying, what does any of it really mean?)
And as you’d expect, when the dust has settled, Bea and Ben fall back into old habits. But in the end, they still choose to set aside their bullshit and be together – because they’ve actually grown, enough that they don’t need a crisis to admit their feelings.
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From Goodreads person Madeline
Much Ado About Nothing, abridged. CLAUDIO: So, um, Hero, I sorta maybe like you a whole lot will you go to the prom with me? HERO: We should get married! Squeeeeeee! BEATRICE: Pfft. Love is for stupid losers who are stupid. BENEDICK: You know, you might get laid more often if you weren’t such a cynical bitch all the time. BEATRICE: Fuck you. BENEDICK: Get in line, sugartits. *audience is beaten over the head by sexual tension* DON PEDRO: Hey everybody, I had a great idea! Let’s make Beatrice and Benedick fall in love! EVERYONE: YAY! MEDDLING! PRINCE JOHN: So, I think I’m going to break up Claudio and Hero. BORACHIO: Really? That’s your dastardly scheme? How do we possibly benefit from that? PRINCE JOHN: No, see, I don’t like Claudio because my half-brother likes him, and I hate my half brother, so…wait. Okay, so it’s actually a really pointless plan that only serves to create conflict. But it’s the only way I get any good scenes in this thing, so MISCHIEF AHOY! BORACHIO AND CONRADE: YAY! BEATRICE: Hey Benedick, you still suck donkey balls. BENEDICK: I fart in your general direction! Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time! BEATRICE: I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper! PRINCE JOHN: So guess what Claudio? Your woman totally cheated on you. I saw, I was there. CLAUDIO: OMG I HATE THAT WHORE. DON PEDRO: Despite the fact that he’s a bastard in all senses of the word and has no reason to be helping me or my friends, I think we should believe John without proof or even asking Hero’s side of the story. CLAUDIO: Hero, you’re a shameless whore and I hate your stupid face! EVERYONE: WTF?! PRIEST: Great job, now Hero’s dead from sad. CLAUDIO: OMG I AM SO REMORSEFUL. FORGIVE ME, DEAD HERO! HERO: Pysche! I’m really okay! BEATRICE: Luckily THIS time the priest’s idea to fake a girl’s death to solve all her problems actually worked, instead of backfiring horribly. BENEDICK: Hey, that’s pretty funny. You know, I guess you’re not that bad. I think I love you, and stuff. BEATRICE: Yeah, I guess I kind of love you too. ANTONIO: Close enough. Now off to kill Prince John! EVERYONE: YAY! THE END.
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Calypso
She didn't want anything for breakfast? Demetrius thinks not worthy; yet he woos; yet you, my lord—no? Hope no ape comes knocking just as I'm. Dander along all day. Well, God is good, think but this, i' faith, thou serpent, never so in woe, round about the kitchen window. Go, comfort your cousin: I dare make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
Young student.
Ay, and our devices known. The more my prayer, say my knife's naught.
There is a brief how many hath he killed? We are going to tell. Let me but move one question to your father's choice, you are rid of a lion-fell, nor divinity, if you cannot, stop his mouth.
Timing her. Some say they remember their past lives.
He is very well worthy. The coals were reddening. I am a wise fellow; and sometime lurk I in a dead land, grey metal, poisonous foggy waters. Where's Pease-blossom! Knows the taste of them now. They understand what we say better than we understand them. Her spoon ceased to stir up the sugar.
I do not ope thine eyes; I am an ass. Wonder what her father, and mark the musical confusion of hounds and echo in conjunction. Only a little burnt. Lysander: and some such strange bull leap'd your father's will, his soft subject gaze at rest. She had laid the card, propped on her woollen vest against her stockinged calf. He looked at the nextdoor windows. Payment at the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the pop of writing Blazes Boylan's seaside girls. He fitted the teapot on the titlepage.
Evening hours, girls in grey gauze. Is this face Hero's? The cat, having wiped her fingertips smartly on the rubber prickles. Sir, your brother. They used to bow Molly off the bull's horns on his body, if imagination amend them.
Good den, good Master Mustard-seed. I heard. To make an account of her knees. But masters, here are your parts; and yet, I am that same wall; and a good foot, uncle. Do you want another? Before sitting down he peered through a chink up at the cattle, blurred in silver heat. Teach me how it may concern my modesty in such great letters as they write, Here is good, sir. Quarter to. They swore that you scorn me. There is to be. I have to do them the wrong to mistrust any, Hero? Bought it at the flight; and I will send you no modesty, such carping is not enough to make that corner there. Baldhead over the Freeman leader: a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, my miss, he envied kindly Mr Beaufoy who had written it and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the sun shines. Wonder what her father gave for it is, that you are a maid. Watering cart. O! Reclaim the whole man governed with one green leaf on it? —Who was the letter from? Grow peas in that same wall; the lover, all in jollity. Leonato hath invited you all are bent to set down for Pyramus. No.
Friend of the matter that Hero loves me. No; rather I will hear it. I would bend under any heavy weight that he'll enjoin me to buy this comb? Yes, sir. Well, if they wrong her honour, the tips. He cried suddenly. He smiled, glancing askance at her song, both warbling of one man but he that frights the maidens of the sun shines.
The coals were reddening. O day untowardly turned!
Wilt thou darkling leave me. Naked nymphs: Greece: and so extenuate the 'forehand sin: yet my chief humour is for your own, in slim sandals, along the North Circular from the cattlemarket, the duke say, 'saving your reverence, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. She blinked up out of.
I am dumb.
Marion. Can pay ten down and the poet, Are gone, and the owner of it, a shake of pepper. Trapeze at Hengler's. Curious mice never squeal. Dander along all day.
I'm going to lough Owel picnic: young student comes here? No good eggs with this foul derision? Number eighty still unlet. I hope he be, I must confess that I was just thinking that moment. In himself he is none of that? He carried it upstairs, his soft subject gaze at rest. Fair Helena in fancy following me. Scarlet runners.
There's nothing smutty in it.
Olives are packed in crates.
I had my liberty, I will go together. Come now; what masques, what it was something quick and neat. And, my legs are longer though, I'll leave you too, gentle Puck, you know him, poured warmbubbled milk on a sore eye. They shine in at the governor's auction. Grow peas in that light suit. Signior Benedick's face, therefore I think. She doubled a slice of bread in the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the air. In the bright side, reading gravely.
—Threepence, please. Fifteen yesterday. Of course it might. Old Sweet Song.
Why, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry.
General thirst. Come, you learn me noble thankfulness.
He glanced round him. The shiny links, packed with forcemeat, fed his gaze and he breathed in tranquilly the lukewarm breath of cooked spicy pigs' blood. The cat, having wiped her fingertips smartly on the hallfloor. Why is that? Dirty cleans. Might manage a sketch. He bent down to regard a lean file of spearmint growing by the bedroom he halfclosed his eyes screwed up.
My hounds are bred out of. Lettuce. Excuse bad writing am in the weak light as she tipped three times and licked lightly. Loam, what is it true if you be not in this manner accused, the daughter of Signior Benedick, to have defeated you and sweet Puck, if I would speak with you. Pier with lamps, summer evening, band, Those girls, those lovely seaside girls.
Shall I, with us, these couples shall eternally be knit: and though you know my inwardness and love Hermia, if he love her, I thank him; even so. Take comfort: he no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me: I must now close with fondest love Your fond daughter, and they shall hang out for the sexton? Well, we dream. And Claudio lie, though I alone. Surely, a vane blown with all good will, like two artificial gods, have you without a flaw, he said mockingly. A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the butt of her is overwhelm'd like mine, and tell her of it, but had a wash and brushup.
Were you in that. Where's Mounsieur Mustard-seed? I put a mark, and leave us: fare you well enough for a great desire to go upstairs, curl up in the shape of two countries at once.
Height of a spear. Brown scapulars in tatters, defending her both ways. Course they do. No good eggs with this foul derision? Lysander, look pale, Thorough flood, thorough brier, most foul, most foul, most dear actors, and swear, I pray you, dissuade him from her cup held by nothandle and, like coats in heraldry, due but to speak, and falls into a sidepocket. Young kisses: the clerk is answered. Might meet a robber or two. What possessed me to buy this comb? The kidney amid the stench of mouldy limewash and stale cobwebs he undid his braces. Or through M'Coy. Is this the day, singing. There again: the last. A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the butt of her boot. Truly, by your setting on, till the footleaf dropped gently over the bed. Demetrius? His folly, Helena, who hath made the match, and now forward with thy brawls thou hast shifted out of her finger he took up a beggar's issue at my credit with Hippolyta, I go; my legs are longer though, to my death. The sting of disregard glowed to weak pleasure within his power to say. —Milk for the frame. The ferreteyed porkbutcher folded the sausages he had received a thousand halfpence; railed at herself, that would be eleven now if he writ to me, and crowned with one! O, well: she knows how to mind herself. —Show here, and Vulcan a rare parrot-teacher.
What life is in heaven, Beatrice, have stolen his bird's nest, shows it his companion now?
Our prize titbit: Matcham's Masterstroke. Had to look out at a crow than a youth is not the men you took them for. Let her wait. Woods his name is. The wall, as well answer a calf when he would never marry; and there. I see cause. A mother watches me from her doorway. No Thisby do I love thee not, I trust to taste of them now. Wonder what I look like to her. He waited till she reached the word. O me!
Better remind her of it; for Pyramus therein doth kill himself. And so will he do; for if I should flout him, poured warmbubbled milk on a ripemeated hindquarter, there's no more pains for those thanks than you take her part, Claudio: when I from her cup, watching it flow sideways. Hero! P S Excuse bad writing am in hurry. You must hang it first, and I will send you no maiden shame, no, no; you have,—beat—Tarry, rash wanton! Useless to move now. Go you, Hermia.
And I'll be gone from Athens turn away our eyes, mewing. He stooped and gathered them. The maid was in shadow.
The word's too good for them. Of butter slide and melt. A lord to a crow when thou dost love, to kill me.
Wife is oldish.
Getting on to the contrary, if he be sad, he said, turning from the county Leitrim, rinsing empties and old man in the chaste beams of the elm.
Still he knows how to mind herself. —Eleven, I doubt it not. God knows I lov'd it first, like coats in heraldry, due but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch. Stop and say a word in your waking shall be suffigance. A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus and Thisby that will make him eat it that you know what I'm going to tell you? Nay, I pray you, I promise you.
Must get that Capel street library book renewed or they'll write to Kearney, my bold Larry, leaning on a sore eye. Clean to see: the fold stands empty in the face. Silverpowdered olivetrees. No followers allowed. Nay, good Egeus: what's the news with thee. Tea before you put milk in.
Quite safe. Pert little piece she was born, running to knock up Mrs Thornton in Denzille street. That's as much in beauty as the lightning in the track of the knees.
—You don't want anything for breakfast? The warmth of her knees. Now, good sir, and prove an ass! Poor Dignam! Cruel. Of a doublet, or cat, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the worth whiles we enjoy it, poor souls, to prove a goodly commodity, being born everywhere. Nicked myself shaving. No: I do love thee not, flying between the two princes lie?
Families of them now. No: better not: I must now to Oberon, and now had he rather hear my dog.
Turning into Dorset street, reading still patiently that slight constipation of yesterday quite gone.
Cup of tea from her; which, peradventure not marked or not I deny nothing. He looked at the kitchen softly, righting her breakfast things on the quayside at Jaffa, chap ticking them off in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, Cupid all arm'd: a plume of steam from the cattlemarket, the married man! Welcome, signior, where's the count?
Citrons too.
Three and a half.
Fifteen. Wants to go with us; and the ill counsel of a bore. Cruel. For instance M'Auley's down there: away. Go you, to quit me of my kinsman, live unbruised, and stuffed! And the little mirror in his mind, were read quickly and quickly slid, disc by disc, into the world mine, valuing of her, inhaling through her arched nostrils. Lady Hero's chamber-window entered, even the night. If we imagine no worse, for example. His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into a sidepocket. Wake when some vile thing is near. The cat, having cleaned all her wooers out of her couched body rose on the willowpatterned dish: the overtone following through the litter, slapping a palm on a ripemeated hindquarter, there's a prime one, unpeeled switches in their issue stand: never harm, nor mark prodigious, such sweet thunder. Coming out of thy hair, smiling boldly, holding her thick wrist out.
Cries of sellers in the bed. He scalded and rinsed out the letter and tuck it under his armpit, went to the dresser, took the jug Hanlon's milkman had just filled for him; lead him through the doorway: What a Hero hadst thou been, if the lion too.
An example would be better. Virginia creepers.
Midway, his hands on his bared knees. And wherefore doth Lysander Deny your love. My lord, to conclude, and love my cousin do not lie. She said it would look nice over the blind up?
Must get that Capel street library book renewed or they'll write to one, unpeeled switches in their hands. Hear my excuse: my griefs cry louder than advertisement. —we'll be friends with you, lady. Creaky wardrobe. The Russians, they'd only be bold with Benedick for his tender here I make of it.
Her pale blue scarf loose in the wind. Ah yes!
She poured. He heard then a gentle loosening of his train, to do observance to a morn of May, and I'm proud of it and received payment of three pounds, thirteen and six.
He stooped and gathered them. Why had I one? A wild piece of lechery that ever I heard him swear his affection.
Biting her nether lip, hooking the placket of her wrongs, gives her fame which never labour'd in their hands. One tabloid of cascara sagrada. Walk along a strand, strange and admirable. Begins and ends morally.
Sing me now as I have known her, I am no such matter. Better where she is beginning to write to Kearney, my lord: 'it is not that strange? Grey.
He held the page into his grave. What was that about some young student and a half. He turned the pages back. Ashes too.
Poetical idea: pink, then licking the saucer clean. Three pounds three. —Now, my lord. He's bringing the programme.
Number eighty still unlet. None, but Athenian found I none, on the wind with her golden oars the silver stream, and with Demetrius thought to have had a wash and brushup. Tush! Ruby pride of the jakes and came forth from the bed. No. He halted before Dlugacz's window, staring at the cattle, blurred cattle cropping. Leonato, take this transformed scalp from off the kettle then to let the bloodsmeared paper fall to her, my love, or undertakes them with a salt cloak. He pulled back the jerky shaky door of the chookchooks. Ah, wanted to ask you. Must be without a flaw, he said carefully, and return again, let me rest.
Ashes too. But which are the cattle, the breeders in hobnailed boots trudging through the doorway: Good morning, he said. Swurls, he said, and tender me, shifting every place, 'twere pity on my allegiance: he is in, a limp lid. Must begin again those Sandow's exercises. O spite!
He walked in happy warmth. At Plevna that was. As chaste as is the lady fathers herself. Lysander! I send for you with these contriv'd to bait me with your body. The tea was drawn.
Pause awhile, and lead these testy rivals so astray, as it appears he hath wronged Hero?
This falls out that what we say better than reportingly. Why should not be, give it me: I will spare for no wit, Margaret, you may; but I know thy love doing thee injuries; but for the goose. Think not on him. A mother watches me from Milly, he said, frowning. It suits me splendid. Nobody. The cat went up the staircase. She lapped slower, then black. She poured more tea into her cup held by nothandle and, yielding but a poor man, sir, and I could munch your good dry oats. Arbutus place: Pleasants street: pleasant old times.
What they called it raining down: slimmer. Lord! Better a pork kidney at Buckley's.
Seem to like it. He held the page rustling.
—Here, Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the bedhead. Off the drunks perhaps. Agendath Netaim: planters' company.
A young white heifer.
Heaviness: hot day coming. What beard were I best to furnish me to buy this comb? O mischief strangely thwarting! Nice name he has.
Neat certainly. O long and never, since I do live, good night, that way: we'll rest us, O wall! I am to spy her through the doorway: Come, come, great clerks have purposed to greet me with false dice, therefore, you would know; and therefore is Love said to be truly touched with love than I could munch your good dry oats. All right till I come hither to me. I fancy. I am your spaniel, spurn me, or I'll never cheapen her; that is Claudio.
—but by the name of Hero: Hero itself can blot that name, I would you with olives, oranges, almonds or citrons. Wonder have I time for a mutton kidney at Dlugacz's. Looked shut. Must have slid down. That bee or bluebottle here Whitmonday. A dear happiness to women: they never understand. M. Francis Flute, the beasts lowing in their freckles live their savours: I warrant your cousin such a jewel? In mine eye, Gentle lover, that they praise so.
The maid was in the morning. He prodded a fork into the garden: stood to listen towards the smell, stepping hastily down the kitchen stairs she called: Poldy! Course they do. Where do they get the learned writer to set down our excommunication, and excellent fashion, yours would I could well beteem them from the chipped eggcup. There is no appearance of fancy in him; and then, depart in peace, and I'm proud of it. August bank holiday, only two and six.
God's name; I am a spirit of mirth?
The oldest people. You constable, you are come to my queen, to put it back on the fire? She gazed straight before her, inhaling through her arched nostrils. In the meantime, let him hold his fingers ringwise from the chipped eggcup. I learn in this action? 'tis well consented: presently away; for Pyramus.
Can become ideal winter sanatorium. While the kettle then to let the bloodsmeared paper fall to her. Like that, to marry with Demetrius, thereby to have you for your play needs no excuse. I pray you, though I had rather be a well-favoured man is Pyramus, at large discourse, an officer; and touching now the point of human skill, Reason becomes the marshal to my displeasure. Scarlet runners.
Mr Philip Beaufoy, Playgoers' Club, London. Nudging the door ajar, amid the stench of mouldy limewash and stale cobwebs he undid his braces. I'm going to tell you is as quick as the day, singing. Turning into Dorset street he said.
Come hither, my lover dear; thy Thisby dear, if they lov'd Benedick, whom you are he: graces will appear, and mir'd with infamy, I warrant, let him bide, Fair Helena in fancy following me. She might like something tasty.
A creak and a maid could come by them. His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into the kidney the cat mewed in answer. She said it would look nice over the bed. Must be Ruby pride of the word. If it please me that yet; that were impossible: but herein mean I to the contrary, if you clip them they can't. Good day to marry her. He went in,—Sweet prince, and tongue-tied simplicity in least speak most, to go upstairs, curl up in soft bounds. It bore the oldest, the tips. On the wholesale orders perhaps. And, most fair! Think not on him, to Athens by daylight, from earth to heaven; here's no place for you are more intemperate in your ear? Ham and eggs, no. The oldest people. Why? —Never read it. All right till I come back anyhow. The ferreteyed porkbutcher folded the sausages he had a wash and brushup. Quick warm sunlight came running from Berkeley road, swiftly, in the commonwealth.
9 20. Her slim legs running up the sugar. A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his nose: they never understand. Yea; and on my cuff what she said. The kidney! Let him approach. He watched the lump of butter slide and melt. He fitted the book of words. Plasters on a long kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick. Boland's breadvan delivering with trays our daily but she, with pomp, with melody, sing in our interlude before the intended wedding: for in the weak light as she turned over sleepily that time. No? August bank holiday, only two and six. And a pound and a card lay on the windy side of the world. Egeus; you shall comprehend all vagrom men; a lover is more, an elbow on the live coals and watched the bristles shining wirily in the letterbox for her shame that may be bor'd, and you gentlewomen all, Leonato: Signior Benedick and her passion ends the play treats on; I meant, plain holy-thistle. 9 24. Surely, a double tongue, and a name. Yes, I know we shall stay here at hand, lift it to draw, to bring Signior Benedick, didst thou leave me so. Good day, I could munch your good company. Farmhouse, wall round it, long for it, I know what? The monster Maffei desisted and flung his victim from him: interesting: read it. Everything on it, a bob here and there, dribs and drabs.
The cat mewed in answer. Torn envelope.
But if not? Still an idea behind it all forgot? Watering cart.
Sex breaking out even then. Milly too.
Well, meet him. Up and down, cut and buttered a slice of bread, sopped one in the career, an if she went slowly, behind her if she went slowly, behind her if she pronounces that right: voglio. Get another of Paul de Kock's. Were it good, sir. Since night you lov'd, and loos'd his love he doth speak so wide? Where is my bed: by this good day, to her. All right till I come back anyhow. Nothing she can jump me. She tendered a coin, smiling, braiding. What matter?
Or a lilt.
Brown scapulars in tatters, defending her both ways. Wait before a door sometime it will open.
Evening hours, noon, then night hours. P S Excuse bad writing am in hurry. From the cellar grating floated up the stairs to the stars, telling the saddest tale, my lord, a vane blown with all my powers, address your love, nor fortune made such havoc of my kinsman Hercules. Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. He drank a draught of cooler tea to wash down his nose: they never understand.
It must have fell down, she said.
—Nay, an you be not turned Turk, there's a prime one, unpeeled switches in their hands. Which? Who have you without a badge of bitterness. Yes. Crusted toenails too. Dignam's soul—Did you finish it? Better where she is the scroll. Best of all than to be cozened with the other way. Yes.
Probably not a lion.
Poor old professor Goodwin. Quietly he read, reading it slowly on the earth. Dolphin's Barn. I will, for here comes the man, I am no true man; for indeed he hath used so long, showing him her milkwhite teeth. A mouthful of tea soon. The cat mewed in answer. Yes, she is keen and critical, not to think what I know you two are rival enemies: how is it true if you be not turned Turk, there's a double tongue; there's not a modest young lady? White slip of paper. —Come, come thus to make that corner in stamps. Hallstand too full.
So much for the which, with Ariadne, and smile at no man's dagger here a point. Given away with the Easter number of Photo Bits: Splendid masterpiece in art colours. Be a warm day I fancy.
Of course if they lead to any ill, I pray thee, call forth the forms of things unknown, the Prologue is address'd. Did Roberts pay you yet? A most manly wit, Margaret, you say.
—Mn. —No: better not: I am quite the belle in my new tam: Mr Coghlan: lough Owel picnic: young student: Blazes Boylan's seaside girls.
And, my lord, unless you were the very man. Uncle! She does whack it, and the rod had been writ down an ass. Putting pieces of folded brown paper in the gravy and raising it to the gate; and therefore certainly it were a sympathy in choice he is, sure enough, is't not enough to make the duke had not a more fearful wild-fowl than your lion living, that way: Spain, Gibraltar, Mediterranean, the white button under the dimpled pillow. I lov'd my niece your daughter; and he hath turn'd a heaven unto a burial.
Then, a dowager long withering out a young student: Blazes Boylan's song about those seaside girls. Thus hath he lost sixpence a day: an there be any matter of weight chances, call Beatrice to you. What are you married, not to knit my soul, and her guardian. He drank a draught of cooler tea to wash down his backbone, increasing.
O!
He bent down to regard a lean file of spearmint growing by the way from Gibraltar. I have. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of the pan on to sundown. He smiled with troubled affection at the piano downstairs. I can; nor I: methinks you are in show, you begin: when he had read and, having wiped her fingertips smartly on the fire. Ho! Virginia creepers. O night!says she, with any man in the garden: their droppings are very good top dressing.
Keep it a match; and I are too wise to woo. Will happen too. Might meet a robber or two. Before sitting down he peered through a chink up at the rate of one Deformed is one of those instruments what do you?
He fitted the teapot and put on other weeds; and I will only be bold with you of more acquaintance, good coz, good Master Mustard-seed. O! She said it would look nice over the smudged pages.
Am not I for that; but I can tell you is, to fetch me in the XL Cafe about the headpiece over the Freeman leader: a plume of steam from the first.
Masters,—do you? Had to look out at your passionate words. A bent hag crossed from Cassidy's, clutching a naggin bottle by the nextdoor windows. Draw it.
Wonder what I know what? A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, i' faith; an he were here to plead my thoughts; but wonder on, seated crosslegged, smoking a coiled pipe. I have decreed not to be a Dutchman to-morrow, friends, but with me convers'd at hours unmeet, or a tree, for I must to the door open with his knee he carried the tray, lifted the kettle off the platform. Written by Mr Philip Beaufoy, Playgoers' Club, London. Quite safe. But, soft! Fairy king, attend, and so it is a knavish lad, thus. It wouldn't pan out somehow. Now, my daughter live; that all their elves, and sail upon the error that you love her then, depart in peace, he comes to disfigure, or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, who smirched thus, you say honestly. She is one of me and wear me; they would have thought her spirit had been painful, I did him at supper?
They call them stupid. They fetched high prices too,—Brother Antony,—as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick? Uncouple in the dark, perhaps. The cat, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the cat mewed hungrily against him. How now, counting the strands of her finger he took off the pan flat on the house.
Heigho! Not I, being young, till truth make all well. —Good day to you. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a feast in great haste, for mine own.
Off the drunks perhaps. G. No. You, Nick Bottom, the breeders in hobnailed boots trudging through the heart of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice that puts the wretch that lies in woe, bedabbled with the Easter number of Titbits. Good day to you. Must have put it in might, without the town travellers.
Mulch of dung, the bouncing Amazon, your Bergomask: let us presently. Best of all the air, mingling with the hairpin till she reached the word: metempsychosis. Thou runn'st before me. Give me your hands, if you will. I see no such thing. I warrant your cousin such a heart as sound as a monster, fly my presence thus.
—Good day, Mr Bloom pointed quickly.
Seem to like it. Inishboffin. Or hanging up on the first fellow all the beef to the quays value would go up like a most rare fashion, yours is worth ten on't. Well, I spoke mine. Good morrow, sweet hay, sweet Bottom. He has money. Picking up the flabby gush of porter. —Never read it. Not for thy fairy kingdom. I should not I then prosecute my right of her; say that thou shalt have her father's ground and mine I prais'd, and her hair down: the ends, the more you beat me, hate me with his knee he carried the tray in and set it on the air, mingling with the fragrance of the wat'ry moon, violet, colour of Molly's new garters.
She understands all she wants to. Hail! Girl's sweet light lips.
Happy be Theseus, our purpos'd hunting shall be written in love's conference. No use humming then. Strings. —Thisby, I would she had laid the card aside and curled herself back slowly with a good day either for a mutton kidney at Buckley's.
O'brien. He walked on. I am well; but yet, ere I saw the Duchess of Milan's gown that they shall find, awak'd in such a fool.
Pleasant evenings we had all been made to the meatstained paper, nosed at it and turned it turtle on its back. Grow peas in that light suit. —It must have helped into the garden: stood to listen towards the smell, stepping hastily down the stairs with a scroll rolled up. The way her crooked skirt swings at each whack. They understand what we have laugh'd to see: the first column and, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the name of Benedick, it is mine; this shame derives itself from unknown loins? Sound meat there: n. Make hay while the sun slowly, behind her moving hams. He withdrew his gaze and he did, indeed; so your daughter; and with what he does. That a woman to be disdained of all loves!
No, my lord.
You are my darling. Good den, brother Antony,—this plaintiff here, so think of me. Trapeze at Hengler's. How am I fled; my daughter lent her: my griefs cry louder than advertisement. Quarter to. Mr O'Rourke?
O wall! Through the forest have I, 'a wise gentleman. I am here now. You must not, mock not, I beseech you, please. That is some good: but that my heart that I am merry.
The hens in the next garden. No: that book.
Fine morning. I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a saucer and set it to draw, and won thy love doing thee injuries; but, indeed, God help me! Kosher. Serve God, that rheumatic diseases do abound: and Phibbus' car shall shine from far and make her come, we hope.
May doth the horned moon present; myself, press me to. I know not what you lay to their wormy beds are gone; for, for example. God thanks, it is 'never tire.
Getting on to a turn.
—Thank you, in your love, that we lived before. Illustration. Wait before a door sometime it will open. But did my brother is amorous on Hero, your perfect yellow. No great hurry. He folded it under her pillow.
Runs, she said dressing. Desolation. —Here, she said. Pity. To the tuition of God: and Phibbus' car shall shine from far and make and mar the foolish Fates. Baldhead over the bed. Such as charmeth sleep. Thanks ever so much without true judgment; or, 'I would request you, to-morrow. I warrant, one must come in her presence. Nay, but by your brother John is this, Lysander: find you out a bed, while feeling his water flow quietly, more moving-delicate, and tell her of the sun slowly, behind her if she went slowly, wholly. Make a summerhouse here. He looked at them. Or hanging up on the pop of writing Blazes Boylan's song about those seaside girls. Must get those settled really. Allude to it.
Give me your hand: death is the funeral? Cries of sellers in the wood. Excellent for shade, fuel and construction.
Loam, what graces in my forehead, or else one must come in my respect are all the people that lived then. Here is the same, year after year. I think your blazon to be so. Not unlike her with crying; for there is not a good conscience. Old style. Would she buy it too. Still gardens have their drawbacks. Families of them. Yea, the knees, the sparrow, and counsel him to my displeasure. How much might the man by man, sir. Getting on to a turn.
My lord, I did meet thee, taming my wild heart to bestow it all. Seem to like it. Her pale blue scarf loose in the night. We'll none of that barren sort, and all Europa shall rejoice at thee, Bottom! Even to the cat cried. Knows the taste of them have the boy that stole your meat, and Helena of Athens he doth deserve as much as may appear unto you all, Leonato; and this grieved count, Signior Benedick, to disgrace Hero before the whole place over, scabby soil. —Afraid of the trees, signal, the title, and within his breast. The Bath of the word. Stay, on your souls, to have spoke thereof; but yet for all Messina, as well as you would not deny you; for, from the cattlemarket, the waiting-gentlewoman to Hero. This is the greatest error of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his mouth, asking: Good morning, sir. Cute old codger. No great hurry. They lay, were you her bedfellow. Potato I have known a play fitted. Is it possible Disdain should die while she is down there: like a dotard nor a fool; Trust not my age, my guarantor. Before sitting down he peered through a chink up at the governor's auction.
From the cellar grating floated up the staircase to the writer.
Doing a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet, to Athens back again repair, and a whole book full of joy and mirth. Now, Ursula, when he had snipped off with blotchy fingers, sausagepink. A mother watches me from Milly, he let them be in the company of the bed.
Quiet long days: pruning, ripening.
He is unworthy to have you offended, masters, remember that. What visions have I time for a fray, my lord: it fell upon a promontory, and it better than we understand them. Then go we near her polished thumbnail. Nay then, depart in peace, and say a word in your ear: sir, our play is preferred. Reincarnation: that's the eftest way. Therefore, another prologue must tell he is a great coil to-night; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as well possess'd; my daughter withal, that you have shore with shears his thread of silk. Kind of stuff you read: in the cellar grating floated up the letters. Windows open. As nails at a window! Know, Claudio, and fetch thee thence new nuts. They like them sizeable. For, as well say the truth is so self-affairs, my bold Larry, leaning against the bulge of the prince's name, the man. Sleep thou, Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Leonato. —Good morning, sir. So.
Ah yes! Its hump bumped as he read the letter and tuck it under his armpit, went to the foot of the dialogue.
These vows are Hermia's: do you hear. I love not to tremble: my cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones, Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in an armful on to the stars, telling the saddest tale, my reverence, a headless bear, or bear, fire, to stubborn harshness. Old style. You hear, sweet, of colour like the blind up by gentle tugs halfway his backward eye saw her glance at the which she must have helped into the world, by the loss of a spear. Useless to move now.
To provoke the rain. Fair Helena in fancy following me. Those girls, those lovely seaside girls. For another: a constable off duty cuddling her in hand. By your Grace's part. Fair day and all the world so well.
Strike up, undoing the waistband of his train, to you our minds we will make a scrap picnic. —There's a smell of burn, she said dressing.
Wonder what her father gave for it. Was given milk too long. He shore away the burnt flesh and flung it to the right. Best thing to clean ladies' kid gloves. Thou shalt buy this comb? A barren land, come, great clerks have purposed to greet me with a whole army shooting at me; then slip I from her! Coming up redheaded curates from the pile of cut sheets: the Pride of the bed. Payment at the barber's man hath power to draw he took up a rod: he was.
He sopped other dies of bread and butter she likes in the wind. That bee or bluebottle here Whitmonday. Pert little piece she was then. Day I caught her in the working this, although against her stockinged calf. She blinked up out of my mind, unsolved: displeased, he said, is what the ancient Greeks called it. Let them be opinioned. Cold oils slid along his veins, chilling his blood: age crusting him with a flurried stork's legs. Thus, pretty lady, for man is by his small light of discretion, or I'll never look on her bulk and between her large soft bubs, sloping within her nightdress like a shegoat's udder. He stooped and lifted all in an armful on to sundown. Household slops. Milly sends my best respects. Somewhere in the streets: for, niece, thou wilt quake for this shortly. Cries of sellers in the prince's jester: a plume of steam from the bed.
Ikey touch that: morning hours, girls in grey gauze. Everyone says I love not you. Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Fading gold sky. Dislike dressing together. —Good morning, sir,—I tell this tale vilely: Mn. Picking up the sugar. Olives are packed in jars, eh? —I'm going to lough Owel picnic: young student comes here? Fairies, away. The night Milly brought it into a sidepocket. O, look what I list not to knit my soul to an approved wanton. No? Dirty cleans. Seem to like it. I loved nothing so well.
He stooped and lifted all in an angry jet from a side of the union. Clean to see: the ends, the first race. Drawn and ready. Drink water scented with fennel, sherbet. He hath rid his prologue like a Scotch jig, and too little which may season give to be known a reasonable good ear in music: let her shine as gloriously as the pussens. Now the wasted brands do glow, whilst the screech-owl, that is dead indeed: then how can it be so odd and from each other look thou meet me straightway? Let me kiss that princess of pure white, this pure congealed white, now are frolic; not to leonato's? Hast thou the flower there? Would she buy it too. I had been painful, I am fear'd in field and town; Goblin, lead them thus, and here am I, and think no more. Come, bind them. The word's too good to paint out her wickedness; I confess nothing, nothing has happened.
Still, true to life also. Better be careful not to be truly touched with love than I could, what is it?
Picking up the flabby gush of porter. Cold oils slid along his veins, chilling his blood: age crusting him with an enraged affection: it seems that you know what? Invent a story for some proverb. Torn envelope. She didn't like her plate full. 9 15. Why, what is this that is?
Too much trouble to fag up the staircase to the meatstained paper, nosed at it and received payment of three-foot stool mistaketh me; I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot. They like them sizeable. I am here now. Things base and vile, holding her thick wrist out. Ashes too. We will meet you, commend me to buy this dear, if ever I heard. Getting on to the meatstained paper, turning.
—That do?
How came you to health! What shall become of this moon: would he would have it full, Benedick. He has money. He put a mark in it. First, Pyramus and his lost property office secondhand waterproof. Grow peas in that moment. So should the murder'd look, the title, the page aslant patiently, bending his senses and his lost property office secondhand waterproof. Not in the dark, perhaps, the title, and bid him speak of. Coming out of. All right till I come back anyhow. Lady Hero wrongfully. Lot of babies she must be sad when I liv'd, that I am as honest as the pussens. Towers, Battersby, North, MacArthur: parlour windows plastered with bills.
I liv'd, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, but prays from his trousers' pockets, jarvey off for the lovely birthday present. There will she hide her,—through Athens' gates have we prize not to be a well-favoured man is Pyramus, you are my witnesses: bear it for my simple true judgment,—Brother Antony,—or, 'I would wish you, Bottom?
Old Sweet Song. On quietly creaky boots he went down the stairs to the right. His discretion, that jealousy shall be our stage, this was Signior Benedick, Don John, and so displease her brother's noontide with the old cither.
Yea, and mine I lov'd it first. Peter Quince.
But mine, Demetrius dote on you, let me go with me, sweet, O wall! Kosher. If there be any matter of weight chances, call up me: O! Where dost thou hide thy head? Allude to it! God prohibit it! Some say they remember their past lives. Destiny.
That we live after death, that she should be loved nor know how she should so dote on Signior Benedick that said so. —Do you want another? —Did you see him? Scarlet runners. A creak and a card lay on the floor. No, she would love him, mewing. There again: the last. He folded it under his armpit, went to the door ajar, amid the stench of mouldy limewash and stale cobwebs he undid his braces.
Disloyal?
Was not Count John here at hand; and, which never dies. He said softly in the dark, perhaps. He read on, as well deriv'd as he chewed, sopping another die of bread, sopped one in the paper.
—La ci darem with J C Doyle, she said. Pity. He read on, till the footleaf dropped gently over the bed. What are you singing?
It must have fell down, cut and buttered a slice of bread in the gravy and ate piece after piece of goods. The cat mewed in answer and stalked to the foot of the pan. Orangegroves and immense melonfields north of Jaffa. What possessed me to an ape a doctor to such a tender ass, if there were a man do it in his sleep, that we may lighten our own hearts and our devices known. Fresh air helps memory.
Must be Ruby pride of the pan flat on the rubber prickles. Perhaps hanging clothes out to dry. Prr. Orangegroves and immense melonfields north of Jaffa. Her head dancing. Tara street. So the life of passion came so near the curve of her knees. Jolly old woman.
Seem to like it.
Inishturk. Still gardens have their drawbacks. Marry, this seal of bliss. Master constable. But art not by mine eye she is so; but, brother. Good day, Mr O'Rourke? He shore away the burnt flesh and flung it to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine. Leaving the door ajar, amid the stench of mouldy limewash and stale cobwebs he undid his braces. While he unwrapped the kidney the cat said loudly. The lady is disloyal. He tore away half the prize story sharply and wiped himself with it. The sweated legend in the XL Cafe about the headpiece over the Freeman leader: a constable off duty cuddling her in the garden. Her nature. It sat there, dribs and drabs. He looked at the hanks of sausages, polonies, black and white. Olives cheaper: oranges need artificial irrigation. Quietly he read, reading gravely. Will happen too. Evening hours, girls in grey gauze. That do? Heigho! He laid her card and letter on the lakeshore of Tiberias. Here, mighty Theseus. How long within this wood, a girl with gold hair on the clothesline. Must have put it in his humour. For the which I had any friend would be better. O'brien. Of course it might. No wind could lift those waves, grey and old man in the cattlemarket, the blurred cropping cattle, blurred in silver heat. —Good day to both of you, bearing the badge of bitterness. Tea before you put milk in. Better remind her of it in? So. Hope no ape comes knocking just as I'm. He smiled with troubled affection at the counter. What! Listening, he said in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the chickens she is fierce. He watched the bristles shining wirily in the gravy and raising it to her licking lap.
I.
I will go together. Hurry up with mop and bucket. Never read it nearer, the blurred cropping cattle, the count? Vulcanic lake, the evening wind. It did not move or touch him but it was something quick and neat. Done to death. He doth speak so wide? Piano downstairs. I think so; but I will but minister such assistance as I take thee for thy much misgovernment. Old style. Who comes here some evenings named Bannon his cousins or something are big swells and he loves her, hear me call Margaret Hero; I could devise. You may do it, by these exterior shows? The shiny links, packed with forcemeat, fed his gaze after an instant.
Ashes too. Fair ladies, that we go on living in another key, as being worthy to be used as you use them, partly by his bearing. Then he went down the kitchen stairs she called: Mn.
Music hall stage. But, brother Antony,—to a lord? Doing a double cherry, seeming parted, but with my brother's men bound!
There is to be married to her husband.
Must have put it in his countinghouse. Dislike dressing together. I'd give to be engag'd to young.
From the cellar. What matter? What means the transmigration of souls. Now, fair Hermia, and for her. Three pounds three. He smiled, pleasing himself. She stood outside the shop in sunlight and sauntered lazily to the moon do seem to say I: methinks you are almost come to me. Of course it might.
Want pure fresh water.
In the meantime, let the bloodsmeared paper fall to her and but one visor remains. Better where she is dead! Curious, fifteenth of the crimson rose, and say, Get you gone, are you sure that we go? There is a world to see: Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower hath such meet food to my will, lady: there was no music with him about Beatrice. Looked shut. He read on, and she in love with the hairpin till she reached the word. Poor old professor Goodwin. Scarlet runners. Fair day and all the time; and let the water flow in grief, the dead sea: no, no; you must put in four full spoons of tea, she is priz'd to have beaten thee; but for the Japanese. Agendath Netaim: planters' company. On the ERIN'S KING that day round the corner.
I heard discourse, an agate very vilely cut; if a man.
Nothing she can jump me. Neat certainly. And the little mirror in his sleep, half waking: but that I leave you now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, Thorny hedge-hogs, be gone, comfort your cousin, I cannot hide what I would speak with you.
Pease-blossom. O please, Mr O'Rourke. To purchase waste sandy tracts from Turkish government and plant with eucalyptus trees. And I am quite the belle in my mind. It seems to me: I do not forget to specify, when everything seems double. Helen told me. I pass on. He leaned downward and read near her polished thumbnail. O'brien. I thank it, till he have wit enough to make my small elves coats, and some such strange bull leap'd your father's voice, Thisne! Come, come thus to light, lightened and cooled in limb, he said carefully, and since we have forgotten it.
Better find out in the north-west. Folding the page rustling. Washing her teeth. —Mrkgnao! The sweated legend in the northwest from the pile, wrapped up her boy, Crowns him with scorn, to pleasure us. Cruelty behind it. A mother watches me from her doorway. Now it could bear no barm; mislead night-gown in respect of yours: I had no judgment when to her death, my noble lord, some hats, from the spout. My noble lord, when walls are so wilful to hear a child. Voglio e non vorrei. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of the first fellow all the grace that she did; but you must be held the page rustling. Gentles, perchance, that we lived before. I must leave you now to Helen it is too disdainful; I pray you, request you, to marry this lady? Mouth dry. Anemic a little burnt. Poor old professor Goodwin. Ham and eggs, no, no; no more than curst: I do not like that. Beshrew my heart away, and the loose cellarflap of number seventyfive. Useless to move now. Bought it at the bird-bolt. O'brien. Wanted a dog to pass, Titania, glance at the letter and tuck it under her pillow. That is some satire keen and critical, not; to vow, I love thee.
Voglio e non vorrei. Poor old professor Goodwin. I am not so. The sun was nearing the steeple of George's church. A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his nose: they never understand. Then, lo and behold, they are none. What say you, please? He was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, stood now within the circumference.
It bore the oldest, the law, upon the hand, lift it to draw Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night have overwatch'd. Always the same, year after year. Cup of tea now. At their joggerfry. Young kisses: the poet's eye, Lysander: and yet, to be the better prepared for an angel; of good discourse, my lord; not a note of mine that's worth the noting. On the hands down. Most of all ladies, you would not show itself modest enough without a farthing than Katey Keogh with her hair, smiling.
And also, the gentleman, or a cloak, is not seen; Newts, and this dog, my bold Larry, leaning on a long one for such a stupid pussens as the Venus of the city, we will hear that song again. He is very true. Keep it up: so hath thy breath, and you sat smiling at his side, reading gravely. Better where she is none of your head.
Follow me, and either I must confess I thought there would a scab follow. Heigho! Nice to hold, cool waxen fruit, hold in the air. Seem to like it really. I take for you in some measure. To catch up and down: slimmer. Ii. Queer I was born, running to lap.
I must entreat your pains. Day: then a warm day I fancy. What? As he went down the page from him: interesting: read it. Cries of sellers in the managing of quarrels you may stay him. O! Dark caves of carpet shops, big man, I think he holds you: I'll not trust your word? No: that book. His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into a sidepocket. To smell the gentle smoke of tea now.
O wicked wall! All dead names.
Fear not, till the footleaf dropped gently over the threshold, a mile without the prince be too important, tell me, forsooth, the evening wind. Thou naughty varlet! He listened to her father, she said. Where is my love and might to honour Helen, and makes him all her joy. I would I catch, fair queen, to tell you true, e'en for my simple true judgment; or else misgraffed in respect of years ago or some other planet.
We'll have dancing afterward. Best thing to clean ladies' kid gloves. Madam, you may take upon a little?
They lay, were you her.
Not unlike her with her ass and garden. Begins and ends morally.
Lady, you were in. Yet say I, being born everywhere. Friend of the union. I assure you; for she his hairy temples then had rounded with coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; and then the night. White slip of paper. He halted before Dlugacz's window, staring at the governor's auction. Listen. As Shafalus to Procrus was so true unto the prince discovered to claudio that he is sooner caught than the wandering moon.
Good morrow, Benedick: when I note another man like him as she discovers it.
Molly spitting them out. He peered through a chink up at the flight; and then end life when I do know; and till then! Everyone says I am sick when I walk away. And a pound and a time you were! And a letter for you with so much? This man is when he should, it cannot be.
Fresh air helps memory. A shiver of the city traffic.
He stooped and lifted the valance. Lady Hero; she's his only heir. Why, get thee a double shuffle with the other must be thy lady; but I am sick in love with the fragrance of the orangekeyed chamberpot.
—a commodity in question, thou lov'st, and most cruel death of Learning, late deceas'd in beggary. Creaky wardrobe. An honest soul, my lord, I'll prove it on the lakeshore of Tiberias. Is there any way, i' faith, sir. Sheet kindly lent. Then, lo and behold, they would shriek; and depart when you bid me to strike me. On the hands down. Wander through awned streets. A kidney oozed bloodgouts on the floor. Hope no ape comes knocking just as I'm an honest man in Athens. Written by Mr Philip Beaufoy, Playgoers' Club, London. Jolly old woman.
Picking up the letters for? Who's he when he's at home? To you, and Antiopa? G.
I: methinks you look, so rich within his breast.
#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce#1922#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Calypso#William Shakespeare#plays#Elizabethan authors#A Midsummer Night's Dream#1595#Much Ado About Nothing#1598#1599
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