Moderator: All Things Mods
Marcellus remarks that "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark" but Horatio is more trusting, saying "Heaven will direct it"
monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful,
were to make a monster of the multitude: of the
which we being members, should bring ourselves to be
No chance, my mate, whish not a man from Kansas.
Gross peas! I would not lose so great a pizza
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best dough I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, second mate, through my megaphone
That he which hath no stomach to this feast,
let him depart; the plank that man shall walk
And croissants for convoy put into his mouth.
We would not dine in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to dine with us.
This day is called the Feast of Crispy Things.
He that outeats this day and comes sated home,
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is famed
And rouse him at the fame of Crispy Things.
He that shall eat this day and lives old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his mates
And say, "To-morrow is Day Crispy Things."
Then he will pull up his sleeves and show his cooking skill
And say, "These recipes I got on Crisp Things Day."
Old mates forget; yet all shall be forget
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What a feast he had that day. Then shall ingredient's names,
Familiar in his mouth as household goods -
Garlicky bread, meatballs and spices,
Spaghetti and tomatoes, Sauce of Gloucester -
Be in their steaming bowls freshly rememb'red.
This recipe shall the good cook teach his son;
And Crisp and Crispy Day shall ne'er go by
From this day to the ending of all cooking.
But we in it shall be remembered -
We few, we happy few, we band of cutthroats;
For he to-day that eats his pie with me
Shall be my mate. Be he ne'er so pale,
This meal shall gentle his condition;
And meagre men in Kansas now on diet
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hear their belly grumbling deep whiles any speaks
That gobbled with us upon Crisp Things Day!
a monster, a very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
Mistress, 'respice finem,' respect your end; or rather, to prophesy like the parrot, 'Beware the rope's-end.'
Users browsing this forum: Bing [Bot] and 7 guests