First try at Medieval CLex
Jun. 12th, 2003 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfirecrackerFascinating.
Word recognized Middle English. How lovely.
I am determined to write for Nerodi's Historical Challenge. It's a bit difficult though, as I have two specialties in historical eras: Middle Ages/Renaissance; and Victorian/Edwardian.
The trick is to get the dialogue just right, and I keep drifting between Chaucer and Shakespeare.
So . . . here there be snippet. Not even close to perfect, yet, but at least readable.
.
Clark bent low, both head and knee. "My lord."
"Up, boy," the Luthor said with some annoyance. "Kneel not so low. Or dost thou think to jape me?"
Clark jerked upright. "Ne, lord," he stuttered. "Seek I only the respect due your station."
Alexander frowned. "'Tis late to think on that," he said, testing the boy's response. The blank stare of incomprehension gave him some reassurance, and he guessed that the tale of his disgrace must not yet have spread so far.
He switched topic abruptly, hoping to catch the youth unawares. "How came thee to speak French?"
"My lady mother was at court for a time," Clark responded. "Haps she would send me for a squire, to a man great as Lancaster, e'en."
Alexander cocked his head, reading a deeper tale in the blush and averted eyes. "And she travels no longer at the Queen's side?"
Clark stared at the pattern of sunbeams on the floor. "She fell afoul of the Lady Alice," he said sullenly. "There was . . . a scandal."
"Ah," Alexander acknowledged. "Perrers would ne have beauty to draw the eye of the king away from hersleuen."
Clark nodded.
"'Twas a swords-point wedding?" Alexander guessed.
Clark reddened and answered hotly, "My father would be a man of lands and substance, were it not for plague and famine! He did espy my lady mother and court her as was meet and proper. Ne fault of his that the way to marriage did wenden by trickery and betrayal!"
Alexander lifted a hand in a silent gesture of appeasement. "Pax," he said easily. "I meant not to insult, only to inform. Hast thou never counted months twixt thy birth and thy mother's marriage?"
Clark glanced away again. "A foundling I was," he made as reply. "From the time when God did chasten his flock with fire from the heavens."
That was really difficult to write. I am exhausted.
Maybe I should write it out in twenty-first century colloquial, and then translate it back into Middle English.
Sigh.
Opinions? Shall I keep going? Or is this idea brutally hopeless?
Word recognized Middle English. How lovely.
I am determined to write for Nerodi's Historical Challenge. It's a bit difficult though, as I have two specialties in historical eras: Middle Ages/Renaissance; and Victorian/Edwardian.
The trick is to get the dialogue just right, and I keep drifting between Chaucer and Shakespeare.
So . . . here there be snippet. Not even close to perfect, yet, but at least readable.
.
Clark bent low, both head and knee. "My lord."
"Up, boy," the Luthor said with some annoyance. "Kneel not so low. Or dost thou think to jape me?"
Clark jerked upright. "Ne, lord," he stuttered. "Seek I only the respect due your station."
Alexander frowned. "'Tis late to think on that," he said, testing the boy's response. The blank stare of incomprehension gave him some reassurance, and he guessed that the tale of his disgrace must not yet have spread so far.
He switched topic abruptly, hoping to catch the youth unawares. "How came thee to speak French?"
"My lady mother was at court for a time," Clark responded. "Haps she would send me for a squire, to a man great as Lancaster, e'en."
Alexander cocked his head, reading a deeper tale in the blush and averted eyes. "And she travels no longer at the Queen's side?"
Clark stared at the pattern of sunbeams on the floor. "She fell afoul of the Lady Alice," he said sullenly. "There was . . . a scandal."
"Ah," Alexander acknowledged. "Perrers would ne have beauty to draw the eye of the king away from hersleuen."
Clark nodded.
"'Twas a swords-point wedding?" Alexander guessed.
Clark reddened and answered hotly, "My father would be a man of lands and substance, were it not for plague and famine! He did espy my lady mother and court her as was meet and proper. Ne fault of his that the way to marriage did wenden by trickery and betrayal!"
Alexander lifted a hand in a silent gesture of appeasement. "Pax," he said easily. "I meant not to insult, only to inform. Hast thou never counted months twixt thy birth and thy mother's marriage?"
Clark glanced away again. "A foundling I was," he made as reply. "From the time when God did chasten his flock with fire from the heavens."
That was really difficult to write. I am exhausted.
Maybe I should write it out in twenty-first century colloquial, and then translate it back into Middle English.
Sigh.
Opinions? Shall I keep going? Or is this idea brutally hopeless?
