Nay, gentles, I have but slumbered all this while! I could no more forsake your good company than the moon could leave to shine, though my inconstancy be greater than hers, for the which I most humbly crave your pardon.
Casting an eye over this great globe, I see much hath pass'd since last I writ here. In mine own land of Britain, those same scurvy politicians do invite the mob to choose between them; the mob seemeth heartily to wish a plague on all their houses. I hear, too, that the Prince of that realm is lately married; that Prince is a friend to players and to clowns, and knoweth my works right well. Long and merry be their days!
The Church of Rome, too, hath lost one head and gain'd another. In observance of the time, my fellow spirit Kit Marlowe and I did drink till our eyes cross'd and declaim scenes from Kit's Doctor Faustus.
Of these and other sundry events, and all that passes beneath the visiting moon, more shall be spoken anon, I promise thee.
Posted by Shakespeare at May 1, 2005 10:23 PMDear Sir,
Since you make mention of the moon, meseems you might bethink yourself on whether that new-wed Prince of your realm is one of her minions or privates, faith. For consider: his first bride bore the name of Diana, by which title the moon was known to the auncient Romans; and his second wife bears the name of Camilla, also sung by those antique Latins, and specially by Virgil, who did note her own fealty to the goddess of the hunt--which sport your new Princess doth favor, as well. Perhaps rare Ben Jonson, learned scholar of languages, knoweth aught of this?
Posted by: Mike at May 4, 2005 3:13 AM