I’m reading Shakespeare’s The Tempest at the moment. Just a bit of light reading.
Anyway. The airy-fairy-spritey-nymph known as Ariel is a bit of a ponce.
“All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl’d clouds. To thy strong bidding task
Ariel, and all his quality.”
“Where the bee sucks, there lurk I;
In a cowslip’s bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat’s back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.”
As if bigging himself up in the third person wasn’t enough, he even ‘does his sprinting gently’. I mean come on matey. Man up just a tiny bit. I realise you’re a fairy, but anyone who creates a verb out of ‘sprite’, and attaches a level of severity to it, needs to stop.
I jest of course. Really. I am a big fan of good old Shakespeare, and I liest not. (Thou list!) And Ariel’s okay really. Even if he does have the same name as the little mermaid and has wings and flounces about with cowslip bells and sucking bees.
Just thought I’d share that.
In other news; a photo of a rather patriotic taxi. Saw it recently, snapped a shot, and here it is.