The Death of William Mountfort

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For History... Was this any good?

Yes, and I would like some fries with that
5
83%
No, I'm on a diet
1
17%
 
Total votes : 6


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This is entirely dedicated to Tarver Mathison, Tarver [The Newborn], and William [The Elder], the men who have inspired me so. Here be a short poem for all of you:
In the blink of an eye you vanished from us all, William
And then you have returned: anew, so to speak,
Inside the innocence of a young boy

---Elizabeth Mei Mathers



The Theater

The audience and the spotlights glare at you, William Mountfort
In a theater in Cornwall do you act upon the stage where you ...
You, the actor, the writer, the player, recited your monologue
Nay, thinking about Dear Susanna, who wasn't around to view
And, thinking about what you should say to her when you returned home
And the audience is teary eyed as you fade away from view

Alas! O' William, you are out staged by the glorious Anne Bracegirdle,
She has stolen your audience's ovation and your heart. Aye, the only one yet!
Tis for oddest reasons so, attraction never has applied to you
And her slender figure wisps about the stage, dancing inside, crying out
And singing to you inside, for her, the vain angel, seeks you.

O' woe of the evening! For out in the chairs above you sits Richard Hill
Captain of the army, and the admirer of Dearest Anne
He knows of you, but do you know of him, as he sits there next to Charles Mohun
Whispering about Dearest Anne, knowing that his attempts to court and get her failed,
because she fought him and fought him for you,
Richard scorns the thought of you!

Howard Street

William, you stayed at the theater, if only you never returned home!
Richard and Charles have bribed the policemen to ignore them
As they keep a close eye out just near your house, waiting for you
For you stayed after for the play’s party and hadn’t made your way home
Until the clock tolled midnight and not even the wretched crows were cawing!

William, thinking about Anne as you stepped onto the corner, you should have fled!
“O’, good evening my friend,” Charles stepped out of the dark to greet you,
Caught off guard you politely return the favor and stand about
“Anne Bracegirdle be a woman so fine, so whole, so undeserving of you.”
One swift movement and you were on the ground in shock, in pain
The avarice for Dearest Anne has driven you insane Richard!

Taking heed to this encounter William stands up to face Richard
The eyes are that of a devil! But you continue to stare.
“Anne shall be mine!” cries Richard as his sword is pulled from his sheath
William, draw your sword, it’s too late for that!
You are run through by the lustful Richard over the narcissistic Anne!
Yet do you see your folly? Do you now wish for the person of Anne?

Charles and Richard flee the scene as you are left there to die
What of Dearest Anne? Leave her alone in the world?
How will Susanna she take the news that you were run through!?
Hence your naïve! and longing for a women’s touch be your end!
Hitherto, on this night of December 9, 1692, will you realize your absurdity?
Not all women be as selfish as Anne, not all men as Richard.
O’ William, have you yet learned your lesson?
Last edited by Elizabeth on Sun Dec 11, 2005 7:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.




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I do not have any vivid idea of the history of what you're writing about, and I'll have to say your writing does not help very much. Apart from history, a really vivid scene comes in front of my eyes. According to me, not much if you've strove towards history but more than a mouthful if you're talking about literature.
The Football Freak.




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I suppose I'm more apt to correct this than anyone else in the universe--but, it's William *Mountfort*. Haha.

Otherwise, 'tis cool, 'tis cool; I have no problems with it! Sometimes, history is scarier than fantasy... You're using words in this narrative that I really haven't seen you use before, so that's a good sign.

My only thought is that it perhaps should be pushed slightly more toward either a poetic or a story-telling bent, depending upon how you want to go about it.... But hey, thanks!




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It said Mountford on several different accounts... I got confused.



There has never been a sadness not cured by breakfast food.
— Ron, Parks & Rec