Say some stuff Shakesperian style to the above poster

Post Reply New Topic

I just finished reading Romeo and Juliet today, and realized how fun in can be to talk ultra poetic like all his characters do, and sometimes do it in person to see what others think of it. So I started this so you can say something to the person above you Shakespeare style. It doesn't have to be perfect, just nice and fancy and can be any kind of comment or even a question, to which one can reply in the same form.

I'll start with a question to the person below me, you can answer and then we'll go on from there.

How doth thou enjoy the weather of the skies on this month?

Tis quite tough this here thread of thine.

Thou shall send babybird to England.

http://reference.yourdictionary.com/tra ... lator.html
http://www.museangel.net/speak.html#Elizabethan

above are useful links to learn how to talk the talk.

Methinks thou knowest thine true calling.

Forsooth, thee archery skills art worthy of appraisal.

to post, or not to post- that is the question.

“He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man."

That is actually Shakespeare by the way.

We all respond
and await behoove
thou floury art
and behoove insurrection

Thou art as lovely as th man on th moon.

The quests betine the insearcher. For the sons & daughters of time beqweath thee. The blazen glory shall be summoned, and the virtues of summer shall bequest a further dawn.

whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the flames and pwns of outrageous trolls, or to take arms against a sea of online ogres and end them?

Heareth this Auntblabby, alas tis I babybird. Art thou ok upeth there?

...to go offline, to unplug-- no more, and by an unplugging to say we end the eyeburn, and the thousand natural shocks that fleshy websurfer is heir to.
who would fardels bear, to fart and burp under a solitary life, but that the dread of something after unplugging, the long-forgotten country from whose bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of? thus conscience doth make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprise of great pitch and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action. -- soft you now, the fair Babybird! -- nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.

Tis not only the plug that hath the prongs, tis also the fork of thy hand that holdeth the key to conducting electricity.

Worry not!

I wasn't getting at anything anyway. I was just trying to come up with something.