Shakespeare's Dream

[SexyChele]

On a crisp evening in mid-April 1616, sitting in a house in the small town of Stratford-on-Avon, a man sits in front of his fire. Having enjoyed a fine meal, he sits staring in the fire and thinks the thoughts that men approaching their elder years think of.

Queen Elizabeth has been dead these 13 years past. A new king sits on the throne, a foreign king, James I. And although he appreciates fine arts and literature, it is not the same as it was 20 years ago - the carefree and wonderful times of Renaissance. Oh, he knows the younger generation considers the present time just as exciting, but still...those times in London....yes, well, that was when he was young, strong, and virile.

He thinks back on his life, a life of writing and acting. A life of harsh critisms from other authors and playwrights. And a life of recognition from royalty. All of the milestones of his life. The good, the bad, the memorable, and the forgettable. But he has found peace now, even if it's been 5 years since he wrote his last piece, "The Tempest". Yes, the life of William Shakespeare has been one of interest in many ways.

His eyes begin to tire, the lids straining to stay open. Wearily he makes his way to his bed. Covering up against the chill night air that permeates the room, he thinks on the characters he has created - some fictional, some inspired by others, some real, and some bits and pieces of various people he has known. He's loved them all, felt close to all, and treasured all. A smile on his lips, his eyes close and sleep overcomes him.

==============================================

Suddenly, he sees a light, as though in a tunnel. When he comes to the end, he finds himself in a great hall. Looking around, it seems as though it might be in an English castle, or maybe even in a great house in Verona, or perhaps a palace in Denmark. Lights are lit against the walls, creating an atmosphere at once of intimacy and revelery. Tables are about the room, ladened down with food of every variety, with wine to soothe the palate of any man or woman. A sound, pleasant to the ears, causing the feet to move - a band of minstrels in the corner playing songs of his youth. Songs meant to bring couples together to dance, to flirt, to arrange to meet.

He looks around questioningly, and, suddenly as out of a mist, he sees them. Laughing, talking, eating, drinking. All manner of merriment before his eyes, and he smiles. Yes, over there stands Hamlet, and here, not far from him, Othello. Ah, and who can forget the lovely Titania over there? Or the fiery Katharina, one of his favorites? And there comes Portia. Does she wait for one? The room fills with characters of his own devising. One by one they appear, untill all are assembled, all are joyful.

And he is finally content to watch the party progress.....

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OOC: Anyone and everyone is welcome to join! There is an OOC thread where you may post your character and/or ask any questions you may have...

 

[sojournerwolf]

Hamlet

Sweeping his great cloak from broad shoulders, the Prince of Denmark hands it to the servant at the door along with his sword. He sighs as he looks around. The party has already started, and, of course, he was late. Too much time equivocating over which high necked, black blouse to wear, which pair of black boots, whether he should have his manservant shave him or begin that beard he had often thought of growing.

The table is laden with delicacies to please the palate and torment the tum late into the night with their array of spices. Hamlet glances with hooded eyes at the dishes. It is not his gut that needs fed but his spirit, he tells himself, though if truth be known, 'tis not stomach nor soul, but another faint hunger gnawing beneath his codpiece.

Enough, the prince chides himself. Philosophy is all well and good, but wins not the heart of any willing wench. Rather it sends them scurrying into the company of less thoughtful, unsubtle fellows.

Hamlet moves to the table and looks over the selections. A glass of red wine, he decides, to alleviate the weight upon his heart, and some bread, perhaps a bit of cheese that those bonds be not loosed too quickly and he make a fool of himself.

Beside him, a startlingly attractive woman with hair of flame delicately loads a plate. She glances sideways at him through long, luxurious lashes. Hamlet smiles courteously, though his lips falter when she requests he move his Danish derrierre so she might get to the scallions.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Sniffing disdainfully as was her manner, Katharina approached the banquet table...

"Your derriere is large indeed!
Remove it so that I may feed
Upon the scallions hither placed,"
She said to him with some distaste.

He looked surprised at her remark.
His eyebrows raised. A question mark?
Who is this flame-haired beauty then
Whose mouth came open once again?

"Forsooth," he cried. "Please, gentle be!
Don't screech at me like some banshee.
I meant no harm, but only good.
My lady fair, know me you should."

"Oh, yes. Quite so," Kate blinked her eyes.
"Your presence here is no surprise.
Rotten from Denmark?" she did grin.
"There was a stench as you came in."

"I will but say it once again.
Move your big butt you Danish Thane!"
Poor Hamlet faced her with chagrin,
He'd plot and would her favors win.

No maid had yet ignored his charms
She soon would melt within his arms.
Oh, yes indeed. He'd tame her rage.
For isn't all the world a stage?

***************

Okay, okay.. it's late and this isn't iambic pentameter, but it IS octosyllabic quatrain. I have this possessed keyboard, you see? Ask ariosto. He's been the victim of it more than once.

 

[HippieChick]

Bottom, a Weaver

Flung wide, the doors clap noisily against their holdings. Bottom, the weaver, marches even more noisily through the doorway. Close in tow is an obsequious but bewildered stage hand. Bottom splays his arms in indication of a large raised stage bearing no dressing and placed against a blank wall. Bottom speaks, his voice loud and demanding.

"And this, pray chance, shall serve as setting, man?
What stage be this? Tis barren, empty, plain,
As likened to your wife, your brain, your face!
And players, man! From whence shall they appear?"

The confused servant is given no time to reply to Bottom's demands.

"Upon the thought of players, who are they?
I see no men, nor boys; not anyone!
A tale that needs no stage, nor requires men?
An animal of rare and precious breed!"

Bottom yields to a moment's contemplation, then turns to face his audience of one.

"But Bottom faces challenge easily,
As money-lenders face Jerusalem!"


For an instant's duration, it appears as though that upon the weaver's shoulders is not his own, but rather that of an ass. But tis only a moment's time, and his head is his own again.

 

[ariosto]

Othello...

Larger than life stands the Moor at the door.His dark and noble brow clouded with worry and concern.
He sweeps into the room, his military raiment clanking with threatening steel.
He sweeps the room a glance that wilts the flowers and causes the champagne punch in the cut glass bowl to froth and rage like the stormy sea!
"Where is Iago!" he thunders.
"I'll do the little bastard in!"

"Temper, temper" chimes an unseen chorus,
"We're here for fun and games forsooth"

"Cut the forsooth crap! If I can't strangle Iago then I need a hot blooded wench and a flagon of
wine...any flavor will do."

 

[SexyChele]

Portia

I glide down the stairs of the great hall, and glance around. I smile as I see other familiar characters assembling on the floor. As my delicate hand traces the railing, I am aware of that the scarlet gown accentuates my coloring beautifully. My long, black hair has been left loose, a small cap adorns my head. My dark brown eyes flash with excitement and happiness.

Walking past the tables of food, I stop to look, to sample. I smile broadly at the exchange between Hamlet and Katharina - oh, the fair Dane prince may well have met his match!

Ah, yes, over there is Bottom, a man of wit as has never been seen before, and I wave to him. And here at the far table stands that mysterious Moor, Othello. Such a brooding man, yet the kind that sets women's hearts to racing.

I glance around, but notice that my dear, sweet Antonio, the richest merchant in Venice, has not yet arrived. My heart is saddened a little, yet I know he must be about his boats at the minute and will join us soon.

I see that Othello and Bottom are exchanging words of some kind, and move towards them.

"Good evening, my fellows! And how are each of you this fine night?"

 

[faith]

mustardseed enters

"temper, temper.... We're here for fun and games"

mustardseed flies from her seat in the celling beams. Around and around she flies whispering in the ears of the great (and not so great) speading laughter as she goes.....tipping this, touching that...enjoying the occassional "danm little fairy...as she looks for the One...

 

[sojournerwolf]

Hamlet

The Danish prince looks at Katharina, his lips twitching into a smile at her words. For all his moodiness, he has more than a little of the manic about him, and he does enjoy a challenge. He sketches her a courtly bown and replies:

‘od’s wounds,” asks he with calm to match her storm,
“Why lass, whose hair doth match thy ire’s flame,
seek mere vegetables to fill thy form
and mayhap bloat thy svelte and buxom frame;

“When music soft whispers a coy invite
to dance beneath the circling stars and moon
an’ put to shame their cold celestial light
by eye more bright and fiery crown, they’d swoon?

“Take now my hand and we shall take the floor,
in step and swirl to traverse but a ways
from this disagreement we should deplore
to vistas of perhaps yet unwrit plays.

“Romance is but a hint, yet desire
is what truly feeds the inner fire.”

With that, he extends his hand to her and nods towards the dance floor.

 

[HippieChick]

Bottom

Thoughts of sililoquy danced through Bottom's mind as he idly contemplated the great moor's question.

"Not I. But should he show his face to me,
Tis none but you, good friend, that I would tell."

But dreams of stage and his companion's nemesis faded upon the sight he beheld, descending the great staircaise.

"This beauty fair, descending hither to,
From whence does she appear? Within what dream?"

She approached, and Bottom felt more a fool than a player of the theatre. His mouth opened, but to vain purpose. He spoke not a word, but mutely stared for a moment.

"Fine night, my lady dear, fine night indeed!
But never, dear, so fine 'fore you arrived!"

 

[1handedtyper]

Bendick

Benedick walks swiftly into the hall, gathering in the early guests.

"So many ladies to pursue, I see. I should hope that these fair ladies be worthy of my attentions and I of their fair pains."

He offers a warm smile to all the ladies and a confident nod to all the men and then glances around for the fair Beatrice. Seeing that she has not yet arrived he refuses to be detered.

"Then I will find one with both beauty and worth to attach my flattery to."

On that not, he proceeds into the hall.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Wherein Katherina gives Hammie the time of day...

http://www.Bibracte.dreamwater.org/ATWAS/cat4.gif
Hamlet extends his hand to Katherina and nods towards the dance floor.

He buzzes like a pesky fly!
His words are sweet, I can't deny.
Another maid would melt quite fast,
But as for me? I know I'll last.

I simply can't believe his nerve,
He wants me for his hors d'oeuvre!
He will not break my 'barrier' down,
Nor strip ME of this evening gown.

His eyes are blue, and brightly so,
I'll turn them black if I must, though.
I'll show him that I'm dressed to kill.
A virgin born and stay I will.

If his hands falter down the path,
Quite surely will he feel my wrath.
Perhaps I'll give this Thane a chance.
I'll deign to let him have this dance.

Perhaps he's not SUCH a boor. But men will be men all the same, and Kate would not let down her guard even for one such as he. Tossing her head defiantly, Kate takes Hamlet's arm.

 

[SexyChele]

Portia

At this most kind gentleman's words, I feel my cheeks begin to burn. Raising my fan to cool the flame of a maiden's fierce blush, I look up into his eyes.

"Gentle sir, you are too kind, for surely there will be many more fair ladies in attendance here this evening. Yet, I will take your compliment as one in good grace and thank you for it most graciously. But look, even now, the minstrals are playing a merry tune, one most suitable for dancing, and still my Antonio does not yet arrive.....

"And have either of you kind gentlemen had chance to partake of the food spread out for our enjoyment? Or are your bellies full this evening?"

Smiling behind my fan, I glance from one to the other...

 

[ariosto]

Othello...looking for a party to be the life of.

Othello stood on wide spaced bemuscled dusky legs and swilled the punch with practiced expertise.
Grabbing the Lady with the fan as she went by he said,

"Is everyone around here going to talk funny! I could probably Iambec a paraceter or two myself in Arabic but I can barely speak Venetian especially in an English translation.
I know I'm supposed to be mooning away over Desi, but damn enough is enough! How 'bout some fun! Dancing girls, bear baiting, a public execution!
Or...."
He winked at her,
"A wench...or two."

 

[SexyChele]

Just as I am about to speak, a page comes forth with a letter for me -

"Will you gentleman excuse me please, while I read what news I have?"

I open the letter and recognize my Antonio's pen. Reading through, my heart catches in my throat, and tears spring to my eyes. I fold the letter and hold it to my breast for but an instant, before I return my attention to the fair gentleman before me.

"It seems my Antonio has been called away to look after his ships....something about a debt he must secure. So, gentleman, this fair maid has no escort to the party, nor to the dancing. Would be one here would think of entertaining such maid?"

I raise my fan, my cheeks emblazoned....

 

[Guest]

Benedick

"Good lords of Venice:
Bid you have a fine evening as we begin our dinner and dance.
Lovely Ladies of Venice:
I am happy to see you have entreated us with your presence. Fair Portia, your beauty is always a boon.
Lovely Katrina, your spirit not dampened I see, by the garish Danish Prince.
A fairy I see! One of Tatania's lovely mistresses perhaps?
Oh! The fair Titania is not yet arrived I see!
No matter, I will find a lady worthy yet tonight.
Would you dance fair Portia?
If not, will the beautiful fairy grace me with her magic?
Little time and much to do, I must begin my enviable task!"

With that he approaches Portia...

"You cry my lady? For what purpose do you shed these tears?
Perhaps if you dance I can comfort you?"

Extends his hand...

 

[Honey_B]

The door swings open, hitting the wall with a sickening crash. A
gust of icy wind blows out every flame in the room. A flash of lightning backlights the form of a woman standing in the
doorway. Wild hair halos around the figure's head. It is a few
seconds before the capable servants can shut the door and
relight the candles and fire. By then, the newcomer has entered
the room and smoothed her silken black hair back into place.


Lady Macbeth surveys the room with slitted eyes and a slight
smile.

 

[ariosto]

Othello looks up from the punch bowl and grins wickedly at the new comer.

"AHA!...it's been a long time M'Lady!
You enter like a storm and a storm is needed to shake up this mincing, rhyming lot.
I've been here an eternity and not one dame has had the brass to lay a hand upon me and sooth me for my loss.
Since I cannot slay Iago I need an outlet for my passions. Get over here MacBeth and let me plant a big one on you."

 

[SexyChele]

Portia

"Ah, gentle Benedick, my tears are for one who cannot be here. But they are wasted in present company, are they not? Consider my eyes dry, as my face turns joyous for the music is calling to me and your invitation falls on my ears as kind as dew on the flowers in the morning.

"Yes, please, let us join the others who are giving praise to the muscians with their feet and hearts."

Taking his arm ready to be lead into the merriment of the music.

 

[Honey_B]

Lady Macbeth

Lady Macbeth refused to let even a hint of annoyance pass over her features at the crudeness of the question. From the savage Moor, she would expect nothing less. His reputation preceded him and in the flesh, he exceeded it. The general was certainly a ladykiller and Lady Macbeth could not help but be intrigued. She gathered the ebon folds of her dress in her hand and turned in his direction. Her smile turned seductive as she walked over to the swarthy man.

"It seems we are both the products of tragedy, sharing the loss
of our dearly departed spouses. There, there, Othello."

Her hand soothed his shoulder even if her devilishly scathing sarcasm was less than consoling.

 

[1handedtyper]

Benedick the charmer

"Dear Portia! I see your spirits return!
I am sorry at the absence of your
Antonio, but pray have a time with me?
We will dance and sing and be merry!
Together we may conquer this sad night.
I will relieve you of your sadness and
You may be joyous once more. For alas!
I am but a poor substitute for the
Great Antonio, but I am more than
That letter you hold.

Come, the night is young but we are not!
Let us be merry while we have the time.
Follow me dear Portia, and we can
Be young tonight, for I can dance and I
Can love as well as any merchant or king"

With that he leads her to the dance...

 

[ariosto]

His dusky arm shot out and circled her waist, drawing her against his hardened chest.
His lips closed against hers and wrung from her a passionate response. Mouths opening tongues like twisting snakes inside. He swelled against her, she swooned against him, warm breast on cold steel plate.

They break away both flushed and breathing deep.

" Gods Blood MacBeth but it's good to see a woman with hot blood in her veins again. Here..."
He said, sweeping his tankard through the punch bowl and handing it to her.
"Drink up and maybe you can teach me to talk like a gentleman.'

She wiped the froth from her lips and laughed,
"And what need would I have of a gentleman, Soldier?"
He breasts looked as though they would burst the laces of her bodice as she breathed deep and threw back another long draught.

Indeed he thought, there's been enough of tragedy in our lives. Damn Shakespear for a morbid dog, tis flesh and ribaldry I want!...and I maen to have them!

 

[SexyChele]

Portia

"Yes, kind Benedick, let us join the dance and find our merriment beginning with the music to chase all sadness from our hearts!"

As we step out into the dance, I feel your arm about my waist as your hand takes my arm. Whether the closeness of you to me or the exertion of the dance, I feel myself become giddy and breathless. Laughter once more flows from my lips as my feet step in merry time to the music.

"Ah, Benedick, you lead a lady on the dance floor expertly. It makes wonder what other things you might be excellent at leading a lady with."

 

[Honey_B]

Lady Macbeth

"Egad, Othello! You would distract me from my purpose. I shall
not dally with you a moment if this is so."

The lady's stiffening is not apparent to anyone in the room save Othello. It is with no small satisfaction that Lady Macbeth notices the flame of temper flicker in those fiery dark eyes.

"Ire will be your downfall, my passionate friend. But I am sure
you already know that."

Using a gloved finger to trace the rugged jawline of the Moor, Lady Macbeth softens the sting of her words.

"Calm yourself, Othello. Perhaps my task can be put off for
awhile if I know that I can count on you to aid in its completion
when the moment arises."

Her fingertip has become entranced with the curve of the man's lower lip.

 

[BadForm]

Mistress Quickley

And enter then, into the throng
An older wench in serving dress
Curves below her great bosom
Smile and invite, soothe and caress

And Mistress Quickley eyes the room
And smiles at all found therein
The happy, sad, the joyous, gloom
All are drawn by original sin

So clapping hands, calls serving girls
Out Goodly Sense and Chastity
And come to where the dancing whirls
In Headiness and Flattery

For no princess could resist the Thane
No serving maid could ever last
But with more flattery from the great Dane
Kate may be seen upon the staff

And Portia sad, but sad no more
Enraptured by sweet Benedick
Turns from her love, I am sure
To ride upon his rampant... wit

Then dark the Lady called MacBeth
And night black shades the savage Moore
May still find gold within their breath
As they find themselves upon the floor

Come, goodly fey of fortune's chance
Your magic and my goodly mead
Shall bring to these the screamed dance
For 'sblud, TIS WHAT THEY NEED!

 

[ariosto]

Soft fingers on his lips cool momentarily the Moor's passion if not his ardor.

"You know that I'll give you a hand with whatever you have in mind"

Othello sucks the Lady's finger into his lips and caresses the rounded swell of her derriere, wondering why, free as they are from the Bards linguistic straight jackets, that everyone continues to talk the same way.
Releasing her finger, he clutches her hand against his breastplate.

"Fair Noble Dame of ill fame and lusty form, I am but an unworthy slave to your command, a bauble in the sweet hand of your desires."

"That better?", he whispers, nipping her ear.