Thursday, July 26, 2007
Sir Doon writes to his companions...
In the year of our Lord 555, to Camelot and Othyr Partes be this lettre tayke.
Oy thar, Hounds! It's me yer Doon. A long time te say Haloo!
I n'ere did git te say me sorries for leavin' y'uns. I hope ye killed te Kynge of Cats and that Goode Sir Bradwen's lands are ryte agin. I'm not sure how killin' a cat will make te crops grow, tho killin' cats is goodly fun. In Devon we kill yearlins, the wee calfs, and sprinkle te blood on the fields, like. Priest says we should na do it, but everyone knows it'll work. Hmm. Maybe I'll trys a cat next plantynge.
So, I'm writynge te let ye know that I'm now Lorde of te Manor of te Black Hills. My bruvver Madoc wert kilt at te Battle of Wells and his missus, God bless her, died of te shock. They's got two wee girl pups, which I'll take as me own. Been sad fer manye months now. I got no bruvvers left so I'm alone, but Kynge Erbin says he's gonna fix me up with a ryte ladye from Devon so tha I kin rut me sads away.
Oy Hounds it bin a bloodye mess here in Devon. Whole countryeside wasted by Cornishmen and Irish. Luckye tha our Manors up in te Hills and wert passed bye for te moste parte. I had te kill scores of reivers an udder scum. Wert wounded a ryte bit, but now I'm mend. Manors na doin' so good, tho. Nuffin's grown, but I been buyin' food and stores for us and te villages here abouts. How're your lands fairin'? I hears its a same in moste partes.
I miss our manye goode tymes together and hope we sees each te other soon.
Your Doon.
Oy thar, Hounds! It's me yer Doon. A long time te say Haloo!
I n'ere did git te say me sorries for leavin' y'uns. I hope ye killed te Kynge of Cats and that Goode Sir Bradwen's lands are ryte agin. I'm not sure how killin' a cat will make te crops grow, tho killin' cats is goodly fun. In Devon we kill yearlins, the wee calfs, and sprinkle te blood on the fields, like. Priest says we should na do it, but everyone knows it'll work. Hmm. Maybe I'll trys a cat next plantynge.
So, I'm writynge te let ye know that I'm now Lorde of te Manor of te Black Hills. My bruvver Madoc wert kilt at te Battle of Wells and his missus, God bless her, died of te shock. They's got two wee girl pups, which I'll take as me own. Been sad fer manye months now. I got no bruvvers left so I'm alone, but Kynge Erbin says he's gonna fix me up with a ryte ladye from Devon so tha I kin rut me sads away.
Oy Hounds it bin a bloodye mess here in Devon. Whole countryeside wasted by Cornishmen and Irish. Luckye tha our Manors up in te Hills and wert passed bye for te moste parte. I had te kill scores of reivers an udder scum. Wert wounded a ryte bit, but now I'm mend. Manors na doin' so good, tho. Nuffin's grown, but I been buyin' food and stores for us and te villages here abouts. How're your lands fairin'? I hears its a same in moste partes.
I miss our manye goode tymes together and hope we sees each te other soon.
Your Doon.
