By Volpone (aka MoR)
Hearts sometimes do skip a beat
[I am late with my post, MoR]
And in fact weird things occurring
And emerging disconcerting
It’ll be the matter elsewhere.
“Where, where, where, where”
[say the buds et li lettori enchanted]
Well, beloved friends, should you be there
Id est the 14th day after the previous writing …
“Inviting, exciting, so much reuniting”
[the buds in truth are restless, perturbed]
*He pauses. Reflects, and scratches a bit his perrwige. Then takes a deep breath*
Now, luck yet send us, and a little wit
Will serve, to make our Play hit,
According to the palates of the season
Here is rhyme, not empty of reason.
This you were bid to credit, from our Poet,
Whose true scope, if you would know it,
In all his Poems, still, hath been this measure,
To mix profit, with your pleasure.
Not as some (whose throats their envy failing)
Cry hoarsely: all he writes is railing!
Flavia & Fulvia: “Basta!”
Old Man [a bit from Arezzo, like L' Aretino, incidentally]: “Why on earth?”
Flavia [Fulvia does not know whether to leave or to stay, her boobs dancing, no matter what] :
“Because – Flavia’s smile is strange – you’ll never write that novel c’mon.
You are sadistic. Checking your exchanges it turns Andreas once wrote: “Ah, Man of Roma, you finally got Anglo-Saxons just need to be spanked.” Therefore, with a story that never starts … you keep them walking on thin ice “
Old Man: “Or on a razor’s edge, my domina. Although, your words making me upset, I will leave this room right now.”
*Flavia and Fulvia pale. They’ve caught a glimpse of a paddle’s (or of a whip’s) handle flashing from MoR’s large tunic*
*The buds look unaffected. But Cyberqwil the Austrian is snickering & Pavlos the Greek merchant too, although his eyes are lost in the sees where he belongs*
The Anglo-Saxons, ça va sans dire, control their emotions much better than we Latin do – *MoR is thinking* – also because (despite their virtues and staggering achievements) showing and accepting emotions is not their forte.
Which makes them even more addictive.
And yet, MoR’s probing mind – he always lived with women, incidentally – is sensing like glimmers in their eyes (the men and the women alike.)
No, no no, mamma mia!
If THAT is what they need (Andreas is always right, he’s German no kidding) my novel will make them blush.
At the other end of Europe, on a rainy island, Erika Leonard aka E. L. James is paling too.
For reasons nobody can fathom.
[ I’ll take my time, although I’ll start with:
ii. Piero Boitani. 1. The Gospel according to Shakespeare. 2. Chaucer and the Imaginary World of Fame. 3. Il grande racconto delle stelle (P. Boitani’s summa btw where you find ALL (I took 6 months to read it Gosh! It is always on my desk) as Pietro Citati observes on Milan’s daily Corriere della sera.
Here’s Piero Boitani with Claudio Magris (our German studies guy and ‘Habsburg myth in modern Austrian literature’ expert, among the rest.)