Monday, September 19, 2005

Avowe yer Love like a Pyrate

Ye do enquyre why I place the fayth in such a captaine as this, and me bande o’ hearty boyes. This I tell to ye: I sayle wi’ them for mine owne purposes onlie, aye, for in takyng the loot o’ the Dons tho’ I myght cym to possession o’ the Spanyshe Main, the which ys Pyrate Plunder fro’ the first, so I be entytled, crisp me liver if it ain’t! Elsewyse, I be entytled to find mine owne reasons, for the hearte doth speake its owne song and that more playnly to some as to th’ others. So not think amyss that I looke to mine owne hearte, but mend your owne fortunes as chance serves.

And if ye looke presentlie o’er the loom o’ the lande, shalt see me at my sayling. If I goe southe o’ the setting sun, to those islands to the which none bourne can return, doubt me not, for when the sun is o’er the foreyard — forget me nott.

Sygned this daye, wi’ all soothe and be damned to ye else,
Ye Yearning Hearte

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