* 
Welcome Guest. Please login or register.
Did you miss your activation email?


*
gfxgfx Home Forum Help Search Login Register   gfxgfx
gfx gfx
gfx
Pages: [1] 2
Print
Author Topic: Play?  (Read 6170 times)
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
Rayne (Alýr)
Dreamress
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 117
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 4.466



View Profile
« on: 10 June 2004, 23:45:00 »

This will be Act One scene One of a play if I like.. actually do the play. Um, do we want plays in Santharia? I noticed that no one else has really considered a play before. I don't really have a title for this one yet, though I imagine it'sll be something like a Santharianized version of Romeo and Juliet. It's all up in the air.

I know it's short! I could have written more, but I didn't know what to say! This scene basically gives you all the setting and circumstances int eh play. I don't see much need for anything else, but if someone else does, let me know.

In accordance with Shakespearean form, there are very little stage cues, and the dialgue is in iambic pentameter.




Act One



Scene One

Scene: Battlements of Eshinjer Castle

Enter Guard One from stage left and Guard Two from Stage Right


Guard One:         Aha! My friend, I see thy shift’s not done.
                Mine’s just begun. But what is this? I sense
                Some lonely trouble in thy sorrowed eyes.
                Do fortune’s fingers fail to stroke thy hair?
                Come, come! Reveal the reasons pulling down
                The corners of thy frowning lips! Perhaps
                A brothel maid dost tease thy heart? Perchance
                Thy supper fits thy belly most unwell,
                Or astragus's bones fell not thy way?


Guard Two:        Seest thou the sliver moon that shines there in
                The sky?

Guard One:         A lovely maid, but out of reach.
                Perhaps ‘tis best to drop thy bowshot's range
                And find a lady closer to the ground.

Guard Two:         A lovely moon indeed, yet notice how
                Her figure’s like a blade, and as she sinks
                Her form, a slender scythe, descends as though
                To slice the sleeping earth. I fear, my friend,
                The future is as darkened as this night.

Guard One:         Thy thoughts are of the welfare of the queen?
                They say an illness feasts upon her brain,
                Though others still claim wisdom in her eyes
                And soft profoundness in her gentle voice.
                But worry not for her. If she is ill,
                The king, with sword and spear will make the elves
                Reveal the cure. And by his actions as
                Of late, it seems she truly is so mad!

Guard Two:                                        And yet,
                I think our king madder still than she.
                No longer doth he hear his subjects' pleas,
                And often dothhe shut himself away
                To ponder over maps and tactics. War
                With elves! The edge of moonlight shall be stained
                With blood of injured men! And what of thee
                And me? Shall we be forced to march unto
                The sound of battle drums?

Guard One:                                Our king is true,
                And has not led our state awry thus far.
                The legions of the crown will march. And should
                We die, both thou and I, then we shall die
                Laid side by side.
               

Guard Two:                        Amidst the thoughts of war
                That burn my fearful mind and timid heart,
                Thy words do sooth my soul as rain dost cool
                A fire. Yet lo! Here comes the king, so stern
                His countenance. Be still, and seem to gaze
                As watchful as a hawk, as stiff as stone!

King enters with Prince

King:                 Hath any darkling shadows stalked tonight?

Guards:                 No sir!

Guard One:                 The night is mild.

Guard Two:                                The shadows, still.

King:                 Defenders of my castle, watch the trees
                For peaceful though they seem, the burnished spears
                Of war may creep among the leaves. A glint
                In darkness may indeed be sparks to start
                The fires of hate! But now, be careful, men,
                And watch! For elves are crafty, vile!
                They crawl in darkness, come at night, and kill
                Without allowing ample time for their
                Poor victims to defend! With shifty hands
                They’ll cheat and swindle, never playing fair!
                They talk of peace and calm, yet well I know
                That raging fires forever burn to heat
                Their blackened armories. They’ll strike, attack
                Like snakes! Elves' arrogance is great; their heads
                Aloft as though they view themselves the best
                Of any race that walks upon the land!
                Do not be fooled by their appearance. No,
                For their insidiousness can beguile!
                Though song melodious and voice, so sweet
                Behind the harmony lies ill intent!
                Malicious are the trees that hide their forms.
                See now! The canopies all shake to throw thee off!
                Their evil whispers hide the talk of elves,
                Those dwelling just beyond our human sight!
                Be careful, men, and watch the trees!

Guards:                                                 Yes sir!

King exits

Prince Lymar:         I see and understand the king’s concern
                But yet the forests whisper songs of peace
                And in their leafy cadence comes a soft
                And soothing comfort to my barren heart
                Alas, my heart of dust!

Guard Two:         My Prince, Lymar, what troubles you this eve?

Prince Lymar:         My mother’s ill, they say, though still I see
                A brightness in her eyes. I think her heart
                Has wearied since my infant sister’s death.
                Yet Father never fully kenned her loss.
                I think he fears for what he doth not know,
                And all the healers in his vast expanse
                Who travel far to see my mother’s state
                Reveal, in fright to please his wanting ear,
                A sickness none know how to heal, save elves.
                And through it all I find that something new
                Confuses my already troubled heart.
                So ill my fortune as of late. Alas,
                The slender moon doth look so frail and wan,
                And hardly doth she cast her lovely light
                Upon the ground. The world seems bent to make
                Me long for more! I cannot stay. It seems
                As though the very wind might shatter my
                Poor heart! Forgive me, sirs.

Prince exits

Guard One:                                         Ah, gentle prince
                Lymar must be his mother’s child, for he,
                Like she, is such a caring soul. How sad
                His heart is troubled!

Guard Two:                                 Dost thou see my hand?

Guard One:         Aye, aye. I do.

Guard Two:                         I’m tempted then to cuff
                Thee with it! Canst thou see Lymar’s soft heart
                Is quite in love?

Guard One:                        In love? Oh surely not!
                For he is but a boy! Too young for love!

Guard Two:        Companion thou hath lost all sense of time!
                For our Lymar is now a man about
                The age of seventeen - he is no child.

Guard One:        If it is true his heart aches for a lass
                Why then, I fear more troubles yet to pass.

Exit Guards



Scene Two

Scene: Castle bedroom

Enter King

King:         This room seems darker than the evil night
        That lingers just beyond these lifeless walls,
        And yet I think this inner night more soft,
        For there she lies, a fuller, brighter moon!
        Collection of the stars! My love, she sleeps
        As though the claws of madness did not dig
        Into her brain! As though insanity
        Did not envelope saner thoughts. She sleeps
        With only shady ghosts to tease her mind
        While I resolve to save her through this war
        In which the vital cure shall be revealed.
        But soft! I see her stir within the waves
        Of blankets keeping her in dreaming calm.
        Ah now I feel my heart grow still –my queen!
        My love! But quiet now. She wakes.

Enter Queen.

Queen:                                         My King?
        The darkness hides the form. Forgive I sleep
        While in thy presence. Come thee now, and I
        Shall open up these heavy shades to let
        The gentle moonlight in.

King:                                 No, no! For thou
        Shouldst rest. My troubled queen, thou art not well!

Queen:         At mind? I know that thou dust thinkest me quite mad.
        My restless spirit lingers in a barren realm.
        A darkness haunts my world—a world where shades
        And demons set to flame my peaceful wood,
        They drain away my singing streams. I’m lost!
        Alone! I tremble now, as thou a cold
        Were eating at my pallid skin. The thoughts
        Confusing, searing, tearing, paining my
        Already fearful soul! I shake. My king,
        Forgive my troubled state, but I am not
        So mad! I cannot see thy form, and know
        Thou canst see mine. Here, I shall open up
        The shade.

King:                 Stay Still! Rise not! The healers say—

Queen:         Thy healers do not understand my heart!
        They can’t assess a sorrow so unknown
        To them, this pain that does not live in minds
        That dost not spread its sores across my skin,
        For heartache’s cruel abrasions do not show.
        My sad disease those men of medicine
        Cannot detect! For they have never watched
        A baby born right from their very womb
        Grow sick and cough as fires besiege her small
        And helpless form! As she, bewildered by
        This pain, didst cry up to the waning moon.
        I watched her die! Alas, my infant child!
        Sweet bud that I had tendered, bore to bloom
        Into the waiting world! My little seed
        In which I rested happiness and joy,
        The world was too impure for thee! Recall
        I thy sweet rounded face! Thy shining eyes!

To an empty cradle.

        I see thee now! So soft and curious.
        Oh, Hush thee now! I know, I know, it hurts!
        Please cease thy cries, my darling baby girl!
        Cry not, for I am here! Thy mother’s here!

King:         She’s mad! The cradle’s empty!

Queen:                                 Hush, my child!
        Return to gentle slumber. Close thy eyes
        Thy lovely eyes. Hush  hush and I shall sing
        For thee! My darling, listen close, my love.

There lived a knight so brave and bold
Who went in search of precious gold.
He traveled near, he traveled far.
He looked up to each shadowed star
In hope to find the slightest hint
Of where this treasured gold might glint.
He galloped into mountains high,
Whose purple peaks reached to the sky,
But found he not a piece of gold,
This youthful knight so brave and bold.

He rode through waving fields of wheat
Without rest for his tired feet
And searched the vale and valley ground
Without the precious metal found.
He searched among the forest trees
From leafy floors to canopies
That rustled with the gentle breeze.
He searched in flowers kissed by bees,
But found he not one piece of gold
This strapping knight so brave and bold.

He stopped in many a passing town
When dead ends brought his spirits down.
He asked old men along his way
But not one man could ever say
Where any bit of gold was hid,
Yet carried on, this brave knight did,
In hopes of rumors masking truth
As slide away his distant youth.
But found he not a piece of gold,
This humble knight so brave and bold.

But then, when time was waning fast
A blessed clue arose at last
A woman clothed in glistening silk
With skin as light and soft as milk
Appeared as though from dream and said
To ride before the day way dead
For he must reach the shining sea
Or else this gold he’d never see.
With hope to find a piece of gold
He rode, this knight so brave and bold.

And then, with all his verdure spent
Before the aged sun’s descent,
He reached the waves: a final ray
Reflected there as dying day
Cast out its few last bits of light
Our hero gasped then at the sight
He found a sea of liquid gold,
This weary knight, so brave and bold.

He journey out then from the shore
Across those paths he rode before
And saw he golden waves of grain,
It stretching out across the plain,
And golden flowers, golden bees.
The autumn showed him golden trees;
The golden stars that glowed in night
And mountains streaked with golden light
He saw his life was filled with gold,
This gallant knight, so brave and bold.


Queen:         Hush, hush, my darling. How sweet she sleeps!
        She’ll never have to know this aching pain.
        That none but my Lymar dust even try
        To understand. No others see.

King:                                 She’s mad!
        Alas, my fair and faithful queen. No words
        Of reason reach her ears. She dwells so far
        From me in places of no fiery war,
        In lands where vicious elves do slither not!
        Where elves do not exist!

Queen:                                 What’s this of elves?
        Those creatures of such ancient beauty, wise
        And kind to all the beings of this land?
        Who, quiet, linger deep within the woods
        So calm and fair? To see one should assuage
        My pain, for they are mystic, magical.
        The elves…

King:                 She’s mad!

Queen:                         Now let me draw the shade.

King:         No no, my troubled queen! To sweet repose!
        The flames of war will burn thy wounded brain.
        To bed, my love, and sleep far past the morn,
        Until the cure for thy sad state is found.
        Now rest without a thought within thy head!

King exits

Queen:         As raging flames sear not the constant sea.
        So will the fires of war lay not a sore to me.

Exit Queen

Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 7/11/04 9:41
Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Isilhir
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 0
Offline Offline

Posts: 243



View Profile
« Reply #1 on: 11 June 2004, 08:11:00 »

Altho I despise Shakespeare and everything related to him, this was actually quite catchy! Not as pompous or head-in-the-cloudy as most Sakespearean stuff. Peter Stewart would be great as the king.;)  

------------------
"You can't be a Real Country unless you have A BEER and an airline-it helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a BEER."
- F. Zappa

Logged
Arancaytar Ilyaran
Newbie
*

Gained Aura: 0
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 1.178



View Profile Homepage
« Reply #2 on: 11 June 2004, 09:02:00 »

I absolutely *love* Shakespearean language and plays.:D  I've always dreamed of writing at least a scene in this style (I tried that for an English assignment once, but I don't think it turned out well). Plays in Santharia? I'm all for it!

Incidentally, I noticed that it'd be "See'st Thou" rather than "See Thee" in the first cue of Guard two.;)  And "should we die, both thou and I", even though it destroys the lovely rhythmic pattern of we/die/thee/i...:

Positively wonderful soliloquy (sp?) there with the King.  

"In Xanadu did Khubla Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree
Where Alph, the sacred River ran
Through caverns measureless to Man
Down to a sunless Sea." S. T. Coleridge

Santharia, a place of world creation and roleplaying.

Logged
Rayne (Alýr)
Dreamress
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 117
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 4.466



View Profile
« Reply #3 on: 11 June 2004, 13:24:00 »

Thanks for looking at it Isilhir! Even though you're not too fond of Shakespeare. ^_^'

Thank you for catching those things. Aran! Must remember my Nominative and objective forms of first person singular...! And actually, I think a Soliloquy is one of those monologues no one can actually here, but I may be mistaken.

With all due respect, Aran, are you aware of what the poem on your signature is actually referring to? ^_^;;

Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Arancaytar Ilyaran
Newbie
*

Gained Aura: 0
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 1.178



View Profile Homepage
« Reply #4 on: 11 June 2004, 14:22:00 »

Uh, no, not really... I just found the poem partly quoted in a novel by Douglas Adams and I found it interesting in a way, so I looked up the author and read the complete poem. Is there some connotation I am not aware of? (*wonders if he's about to be embarassed severely*)

Edited by: Arancaytar Ilyaran at: 6/10/04 22:40
Logged
Rayne (Alýr)
Dreamress
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 117
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 4.466



View Profile
« Reply #5 on: 11 June 2004, 14:44:00 »

Well.. it's kind of a poem about ::looks about modestly, then whispers: sex.

I should think phrases like "pleasure dome" (refering to a certain female reproductive organ) and "caverns measureless to man," (guess) might give it away. ut if that wasn't enough,"deep romantic chasm" and "woman wailing" and of course "fast thick pants." Then there's "Milk of Paradise."

:: blushes all modestly:: Just thought you should be aware.

Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Arancaytar Ilyaran
Newbie
*

Gained Aura: 0
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 1.178



View Profile Homepage
« Reply #6 on: 11 June 2004, 15:01:00 »

Uh. Now that I read it again... You have a point there. Funnily enough, I never read this particular meaning mentioned by Coleridge or anyone analyzing the poem. But I'll just go and take it out now. *makes mental note to stay clear from poetry he doesn't know the meaning of in the near future*...:o  :o  

Edited by: Arancaytar Ilyaran at: 6/10/04 23:01
Logged
Rayne (Alýr)
Dreamress
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 117
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 4.466



View Profile
« Reply #7 on: 11 June 2004, 15:26:00 »

::chuckes:: :hug  

Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Isilhir
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 0
Offline Offline

Posts: 243



View Profile
« Reply #8 on: 11 June 2004, 16:24:00 »

:lol  hoo boy... That was a good laugh I had when I read Rayne's explanaition and then read the poem! hahaha it sure made my day/night  

------------------
"You can't be a Real Country unless you have A BEER and an airline-it helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a BEER."
- F. Zappa

Logged
Rayne (Alýr)
Dreamress
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 117
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 4.466



View Profile
« Reply #9 on: 12 June 2004, 00:58:00 »

You have to be careful with poems. They may seem harmless, but some of them can be a bit.. disturbing.

I hope Mommy Judith comes to look it over! Perhaps she will take me under her wing as an apprentice bard!

Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Dala Valannia
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 3
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 2.515



View Profile
« Reply #10 on: 12 June 2004, 02:03:00 »

I think a play's the thing! :lol  This is another splendid idea, writing a play! Like Smith in Exile's epistolary story, this makes for greater diversion of narratives beyond the usual short tales, poems and novelistic approaches :thumbup  

Logged
Artemis
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 2
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 883



View Profile
« Reply #11 on: 13 June 2004, 00:28:00 »

Wow... this is fantastic. I really don't know how you do it - I wouldn't know where to start if someone asked me to write a play in Shakespearean style.

:clap

:D  :D  :D  

*****

You're supposed to put something really clever and witty in the signature. Well, I am neither clever, nor witty, so this is a waste of space for me really.

*****

Logged
Bard Judith
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 365
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 7.650


Dwarvenmistress


View Profile Homepage
« Reply #12 on: 13 June 2004, 21:55:00 »

Rayne darlin' - another marvelous production, and a long-overdue concept.  I can only say I'm jealous :x  that I didn't think of Santharian drama first... oh well, dance is on its way!  I just sent my Dancer picture to Art (hope he approves it) and I'm going to be writing up descriptions of popular group and solo dances to go along with her, so there!  :p  

Ok, pouting aside,  :hug  this really is great save for a few minor grammatical errors, anachronisms, and scansion problems.  I've put my changes in bright yellow (now that I know how!) so that you can pick them out...  
For more inspiration, set old William aside and try Christopher Fry - "The Lady's Not for Burning", one of my personal favorite playwrights, who treats language as if it were fresh pasta; malleable, saucy, slightly stretchy, and delicious!

------------------------------------------------------------------

Act One
Scene One

(stage directions?  setting the place?  enter and exit, etc.?
E.g.  " Night, with a crescent moon rising.  A lonely battlement with a silhouetted figure (Guard Two), stage right.  Enter Guard One, stage left)


Guard One:         Aha! My friend, I see thy shift’s not done.
               Mine’s just begun. But what is this? I sense
               Some lonely trouble in thy sorrowed eyes.
               Do fortune’s fingers fail to stroke thy hair?
               Come, come! Reveal the reasons pulling down
               The corners of thy frowning lips! Perhaps
               A brothel maid dost tease thy heart? Perchance
               Thy supper fits thy belly most unwell,  
               Or astragus's bones fell not thy way?


Guard Two:        Seest thou the sliver moon that shines there in
               The sky?

Guard One:         A lovely maid, but out of reach.
               Perhaps ‘tis best to drop thy bowshot's range
               And find a lady closer to the ground.

Guard Two:         A lovely moon indeed, yet notice how
               Her figure’s like a blade, and as she sinks
               Her form, a slender scythe, descends as though
               To slice the sleeping earth. I fear, my friend,
               The future is as darkened as this night.

Guard One:         Thy thoughts are of the welfare of the queen?
               They say an illness feasts upon her brain,
               Though others still claim wisdom in her eyes
               And soft profoundness in her gentle voice.
               But worry not for her. If she is ill,
               The king, with sword and spear will make the elves
               Reveal the cure. And by his actions as
               Of late, it seems she truly is so mad!

Guard Two:                                        And yet,
               I think our king is madder still than she.
               No longer doth he hear his subjects' pleas,
               And often doth he shut himself away
               To ponder over maps and tactics. War
               With elves! The edge of moonlight shall be stained
               With blood of injured men! And what of thee
               And me? Shall we be forced to march unto
               The sound of battle drums?

Guard One:                                Our king is true,
               And has not led our state awry thus far.
               The legions of the crown will march. And should
               We die, both thou and I, then we shall die
               Laid side by side.
               

Guard Two:                        Amidst the thoughts of war
               That burn my fearful mind and timid heart,
               Thy words do sooth my soul as rain dost cool
               A fire. Yet lo! Here comes the king, so stern
               His countenance.

Guard One:      Be still, and seem to gaze
               As watchful as a hawk, as stiff as stone!


(Guard One seems to be the older, more self-assured senior here so I'd reassign the line... as I've done lower down as well.  Perhaps you had more clearly defined roles and attitudes for them in mind later, but as they don't even have names at this point, I made a guess and just 'firmed up' the distinction of character a bit without even tampering with your lines...)

King enters with Prince

King:                Hath any darkling shadows stalked tonight?

Guards:                 No sir!

Guard One:                 The night is mild.

Guard Two:                                The shadows, still.

King:                 Defenders of my castle, watch the trees
               For peaceful though they seem, the burnished spears
               Of war may creep among the leaves. A glint
               In darkness may indeed be sparks to start
               The fires of hate! But now, be careful, men,
               And watch! For elves are crafty, vile!
               They crawl in darkness, come at night, and kill
               Without allowing ample time for their
               Poor victims to defend! With shifty hands
               They’ll cheat and swindle, never playing fair!
               They talk of peace and calm, yet well I know
               That raging fires forever burn to heat
               Their blackened armories. They’ll strike, attack
               Like snakes! Elves' arrogance is great; their heads
               Aloft as though they view themselves the best
               Of any race that walks upon the land!
               Do not be fooled by their appearance. No,
               For their insidiousness can beguile!
               Though song melodious and voice, so sweet
               Behind the harmony lies ill intent!
               Malicious are the trees that hide their forms.
               See now! The canopies all shake EzCode Parsing Error: color=yellow]EzCode Parsing Error: color=yellow]as t'were a breeze,
               soughing hides the evil plans[/font] of elves,
               Those dwelling just beyond our human sight!
               Be careful, men, and watch the trees!

Guards:                                                 Yes sir!

King exits

Prince Lymar:        I see and understand the king’s concern
               But yet the forests whisper songs of peace
               And in their leafy cadence comes a soft
               And soothing comfort to my barren heart...
               Alas, my heart of dust!

Guard One:         Good Lymar - Prince - what troubles you this eve?

Prince Lymar:         My mother’s ill, they say, though still I see
               A brightness in her eyes. I think her heart
               has wearied since my infant sister’s death.
               Yet Father never fully kenned her loss.
               I think he fears for what he doth not know,
               And all the healers in his vast expanse
               Who travel far to see my mother’s state
               Reveal, in fright to please his wanting ear,
               A sickness none know how to heal, save elves.
               And through it all I find that something new
               Confuses my already troubled heart.
               So ill my fortune as of late. Alas,
               The slender moon doth look so frail and wan,
               And hardly doth she cast her lovely light
               Upon the ground. The world seems bent to make
               Me long for more! I cannot stay. It seems
               As though the very wind might shatter
               My poor heart! Forgive me, sirs.

Prince exits
Guard Two:                                         Ah, gentle prince,
               His mother’s child is sure, for he,
               Like her,
is such a caring soul. How sad
               His heart is troubled!

Guard One:                                 Dost thou see my hand?

Guard Two:         Aye, aye. I do.

Guard One:                         I’m tempted then to cuff
               Thee with it! Canst notthou see Lymar’s soft heart
               Is quite in love?

Guard Two:                        In love? Oh surely not!
               For he is but a boy! Too young for love!

Guard One:        Companion, thou hath lost all sense of time!
               For our Lymar is now a man about
               The age of seventeen - he is no child.

Guard Two:        If it is true his heart aches for a lass
               Why then, I fear more troubles yet to pass.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Logged

"Give me a land of boughs in leaf /  a land of trees that stand; / where trees are fallen there is grief; /  I love no leafless land."   --A.E. Housman
 
Artimidor Federkiel
Administrator
*****

Gained Aura: 538
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Posts: 23.091



View Profile Homepage
« Reply #13 on: 14 June 2004, 00:12:00 »

Already wrote in the other thread that brand new things like letters and plays are very much appreciated, adding new flavour to the site:D  - So great idea and great realization with all this Shakespearean language, now that I've read it as well - wow! :clap  :thumbup

Question, though: Do you plan to continue it? Plays could be quite long... Or should we add it as an example and excerpt so far? At any rate I'd need some sort of title and something like a summary/teaser as well.


The Santharian Dream Webmaster - Let Fantasy Dreams come true!
World Development Admin - The Forum where Worlds are born...

Logged



"Between the mind that plans and the hands that build there must be a mediator, and this must be the heart." -- Maria (Metropolis)
Rayne (Alýr)
Dreamress
Santh. Member
***

Gained Aura: 117
Offline Offline

Gender: Female
Posts: 4.466



View Profile
« Reply #14 on: 14 June 2004, 01:01:00 »

Judith: What’s Astragus? :o  ::feels silly for not knowing::

Well, the distinction between the two guards isn’t necessarily the confidence of age and the insecurity of youth. Guard one is perhaps more confident, more assured, but not as knowing as Guard Two, who is more sensitive. The sensitivity of Guard two is what allows him to, like a poet, see symbols in the world around him, and also notice Lymar’s love-troubles.

Some of the corrections I couldn’t take because it messed up some of the stresses with Lymar’s name. His name is actually iambic, showing a more peaceful nature (the way the elven language is structured, the language is very iambic.) In fact, Lymar’s name is actually derived fromelvish: Lyth’mar (Love – Water). Water will be a motif for love in the play, if I can manage it. The first scene already introduced a few other motifs, including fire (war, hate, anger) and the moon (fortune). I will try my best to carry these out.

Thank you SO much, Mommy Judith! I don’t know what I would do without you! :hug s you’re the only person I know that can accurately evaluate the language, meter, and characterization the way you can, And I’m extremely grateful! : hug “Thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks!”

:heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart  :heart

Artimidor: I am planning on continuing the play, though it may take a while. I’ve already begun working on scene two, but I’m really pacing myself. If I try to do it all at once, I’ll get tired of it quickly. Perhaps we might wait on this a while? Depending on what happens in Scene 2, scene one may change slightly. Sorry to be such trouble! :o

I do still need a title, though…

Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
Pages: [1] 2
Print
Jump to:  

Recent
[27 March 2019, 00:01:57]

[21 June 2018, 14:28:00]

[31 May 2017, 06:35:55]

[06 May 2017, 05:27:04]

[03 April 2017, 01:15:03]

[26 March 2017, 12:48:25]

[15 March 2017, 02:23:07]

[15 March 2017, 02:20:28]

[15 March 2017, 02:17:52]

[14 March 2017, 20:23:43]

[06 February 2017, 04:53:35]

[31 January 2017, 08:45:52]

[15 December 2016, 15:50:49]

[26 November 2016, 23:16:38]

[27 October 2016, 07:42:01]

[27 September 2016, 18:51:05]

[11 September 2016, 23:17:33]

[11 September 2016, 23:15:27]

[11 September 2016, 22:58:56]

[03 September 2016, 22:22:23]
Members
Total Members: 1019
Latest: lolanixon
Stats
Total Posts: 144586
Total Topics: 11052
Online Today: 23
Online Ever: 700
(23 January 2020, 20:05:39)
Users Online
Users: 0
Guests: 22
Total: 22

Powered by MySQL Powered by PHP Powered by SMF 1.1.21 | SMF © 2005, Simple Machines
TinyPortal v0.9.8 © Bloc
Valid XHTML 1.0! Valid CSS!
Theme based on Cerberus with Risen adjustments by Bloc and Krelia
Modified By Artimidor for The Santharian Dream
gfx
gfxgfx gfxgfx