Some poems.

Apr. 3rd, 2009 11:51 am
[identity profile] ihamlet.livejournal.com
Hullo, all. Big, BIG Harry Monmouth buff at your service (nimble-footed madcap princes of Wales FTW). Wrote a couple poems 'round a half a year ago about the two Plantagenets I've been fortunate enough to portray onstage. Malheureusement, they're in French. As there seems to be a correlation between interest in Shakespeare and interest in languages, however, I'll post them anyway with the hopes that someone will appreciate them. Anyhow, I'm unspeakably enthused that this community even exists (props to [livejournal.com profile] haradwen for referring me) and I hope to shoot the breeze with you delirious weirdos in the near future. Here's a health to the company to a boost in activity.

The Poet and the Hero ).
[identity profile] angevin2.livejournal.com
Title: "'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball...."
Author: [livejournal.com profile] the_red_shoes
Play: Henry IV 1 and 2, a little bit of Henry V? Begins just before Richard reaches Waterford.
Recipient: [livejournal.com profile] speak_me_fair
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Hal/Richard II....sort of.
Rating: Irredeemably gen.
Notes: I have taken the liberty of Richard's knighting Hal before they reach Ireland, instead of afterwards.
Summary: "What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness, And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!"

It was the first time Hal had ever been out of England, the first (and possibly last, he couldn't help thinking) time he had ever been on a ship, and the first time he had ever been so sick he thought he might die. )
[identity profile] angevin2.livejournal.com
Title: Gross Flesh
Author: [livejournal.com profile] the_alchemist
Play: Richard II, mostly
Recipient: [livejournal.com profile] angevin2
Character(s): Richard II and others
Warnings: voyeurism? Do I need to warn you about that?
Rating: um... PG?
Summary: The ghost of Richard II sets out to take revenge on Henry IV and family, enlisting an unexpected helper.


'Mount, mount, my soul. Thy seat is up on high, whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die!' said Richard, and sank backwards. )

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