Wherefore Art Thou, Plump Breeches?
A Midsummer's Night. Ay, it sooth thy light; the compeer o' the sun, the--
The slip of my tongue as I drew a breath. Another memory of the past; a past long forgotten by men, a past I kept close to my heart. Old English, my old friend, where have you gone?
One day I shall find a way; a way to have it used by men once more. Alas, that day is not today, for a walk I have--not midday. A princess of the night; shone from her many-a-light. True to her title, the night felt naught so little.
I watched her hair--nayno, mane--flowing on a nonexistent wind. A wind I felt warm to the skin, like a midsummer's breeze. Delightful to see.
We walked through a park as these thoughts flow through my mind. I kept my posture as I've practiced: dignified, regal, and, most of all, polite. I also kept my tongue from slipping to archaic; a feat I am most uncomfortable with. The princess I walked with seemed like any other royalty I'd met, only she walked on four instead of two.
We were right in the middle of the park when it happened, that I unconsciously thought of making a sonnet. In Old English.
AyYes, I know it's Early Modern English, not Old English. I used the latter to keep my brevity and for the sake of context.
I find it annoying that Newton lied to me about this being a "short exchange of pleasantries". We've been walking through the City of Canterlot the whole night. Luckily, it wasn't much of an inconvenience. I find talking to Princess Luna quite entertaining, compared to the few weeks of nothing but waiting for an agreement between the two worlds.
Which is to say, the bar of comparison was relatively low. Still, a change of pace was nice.
"So, Sir Shakespeare, what do you think of the park?"
I scanned around me, looking at the various greenery and greener greeneries. "I find it greener than what I have back home. I guess the phrase 'greener on the other side' has made a very good example here."
She didn't give the smallest of a smile at that. Blast.
Instead, she looked at a patch of grass by the fork of the pavement. "I do find greener pastures from time to time, but I still prefer the taste of the grass back home." She looked at me and continued, "Doth thou--I mean, don't you also?"
Ay, what's that? Oh, surely I misheard! My Lord, please, be it not!
"You...thou speaketh Olde English?"
And she smiled gleeful smile, with a visible attempt to being held back; a smile only now I see from our entire journey. "I...ay, We do. Doth thou preferreth this pattern of speech?"
"My Princess, but I do. Alas, none hast speak like thee before; For it forgotten forevermore!"
"Alas, good sir, naught remains but Us. And Us, We see, need a little fuss!"
"Thou maketh sonnets?"
"Nay, We maketh songs to resonate along the night. Thou maketh sonnets?"
"Ay, I make sonnets. Sonnets for plays."
"Plays? Of stories on stages?"
"Ay, milady. Of stories on stages."
She stopped a while to look at me in the eye, her gleeful smile never to leave throughout it all. Alas, until now.
"Wherefore doth thou not speaketh 'bout this? We will be pleased by thy way of speech."
Good question. "Taught by my friends, I do. Much ado"
"Ay, We see. Our sympathy to thee, for We to share a fate with thee; a sister telling of a lost tradition."
"I see; thy sister's a strumpet!"
Her frown deepened as her brows turned to a scowl. "Art thou speaketh of Our sister, good sir?"
Oops.
"I mean--"
"Thou kisseth thy mother with that?"
"Fair maiden, my mouth hath found thy mother's hinds."
Her mouth gaped as she stared at me with disbelieve.
Shakespeare, old fool, thou hast doomed humanity. She was as much at loss of words as I am, luckily; a few more seconds of existence will be good. As she regained her composure, I prepared myself for my inevitable demise.
When her eyes focused on mine, she spoke, slowly, "Shakespeare, would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!"
Thou shalt not use my words against me, thou villain; thou cutpurse!
"I do but love my nostril; have thy spit for thyself, for a villainous smell that ever offended mine!"
"But a hypocrite thou art, thou hippogriff dung! Thou smelleth raped by a fishmonger!"
"To not see thy face, a fish I would rape; such art thine face some piglet's hanging balls."
"Ol' scoundrel, ye! I'll beat thee, but I would infect my hooves."
"Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat! Thine face is not worth sunburning!"
"Mayhap Our sister's sun wouldst not obey thine deformed butter-flanks, thou sodden-witted, incestuous, dragon lord!"
"One wouldst ask for thee to taste thine sister's legs, wouldst thou not an unworthy dunghill."
"A dunghill thy mother is, thou poisonous, diamond dog piss-puddle!"
"Whilst thine fathers hath drinketh of bloody rascal urinal, and thy mother putteth a donkey's tails betwixt her legs!"
"Wouldst We compare thou to a degenerative, poisonous toad, would its heart We hath broke; poor toad. Hast thou a homosexual mother, speaketh thou always 'bout her?"
And 'ere I smirked, smiled, and nearly laughed as the trap I lay got bitten by a heedless jolt-head that is of Luna. "Nay," I said, slowly, victoriously, "thee."
And there she stood, her mouth agape, head blown back, and soul damned to the fifth dimension for a marketed sin's lack. "Ay, sir, well played."
I relaxed as a collection of spoils rained down upon the victor: me. For the angels blew the trumpets and sang a choir: "The ever-standing champion, O thee!" Gold and jewels rose from the ground cherish'd me, an everlasting source to feed the poor and unending gems to satisfy the kings of all ages. A King I am, standing o'er the fear of my enemies' eyes; therefore shall the mountains sing: "The Princess is dead, long live the--"
"Wouldst thine grammar, not in such a sorry state."
Holy mother of--She just did, did she not?
"I was not aware that this was a douchebag contest."
"Nay, We."
"Douchebag."
"Retard."
And so, we stare. We stare and glare, and forgot the night o'er there. O'er yonder I see: a glistening sea; the sun hath arisen. For soon we see her sister flew from the horizon; as quick as one could see, soaring hither.
And she landed gracefully, her mane and tail as regal as ever, putting shadows over me and that hyperbolical fiend. "Sister, that's enough."
"Hah! Have at thee, ye--"
"As for you, William." Before she could protest and before I could show her how victorious I was, a figure jumped from Celestia's back.
Oh, how annoyed I was that I stopped thinking archaic. "Fuck off, Mozart."
I think I had him there.
As his frown deepened, his unkempt hair started ruffling in the early morning breeze. For a master of insults, how can I ever be defeated by such low of a class that of an unpopular pianist? "I'm Einstein, Will."
Nevermind. "Thou cometh at an unfortunate time, good sir."
He sighed. "Speech, Will. We've talked about--"
"Thou shalt not forbid his archaic speech upon Our presence!" Oh, how I love that goose-looking horse. Not that I actually do, of course.
Unluckily for us, a figure of higher authority disapproved this act. So, she sighed and said, "Luna, we've talked about--"
"SILENCE!" And as she shouted, her eyes glowed, thunders struck, and the ground shook.
Everyone somehow obeyed her command.
Not me, though. "Nay, ye giddy goose. Thou unloved royal figure!"
I didn't notice how Celestia took a sharp breath. I noticed, however, after a few moments that a witty reply was not to be made. When I looked at Luna, what I saw was only sorrow, and seemingly a tear forming at the edges of her eye. I saw quickly after what I have done. And what it is have I done, O Lord? "Ay, Luna. I didn't mean it. S-sorry. Hey, Your Highness, I would be willing to--"
She neighed, said, "Thou," and smirked.
Wouldst one loveth a horse? One wouldst. I shamelessly let out a booming laugh that echoed through the park, so far hath I laughed that a tear went and chaffed. "Thou hath tickleth one's fancy."
She joined in the laugh with a similar, yet more feminine, laugh. "No, sir. Thou hath tickleth Ours." And we laughed for quite the time until she began to speak again, "We knoweth of a food establishment near. Cometh thou, O bipedal fossil?"
As I heard two sharp breaths taken, I smiled and said, "Have at thee, nocturnal horse!"
So we laughed together, a hand over her shoulder and a hoof over mine, walking into the sunrise.
A couple of steps away, I heard Einstein spoke to Celestia, "Will your sister be alright?"
I heard her sighed, said, "Only if your friend does," and gazed at the two silhouettes, each having a friend by their limbs, either hand or hoof. "And if they don't end up getting hitched."