Saturday, April 24, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Demas, In Love With This Present World
2 Timothy 4:9-10
What you've heard is true - I've gone to Thessilonika.
I've taken a room above the agora with a view
of the harbor and wake too early to merchants' voices,
bleatings of every sort, and carpets being beaten.
The innkeeper and his wife bring bread - they are kind,
and their daughter is pretty, though she has a withered hand.
At night I watch the fishing boats come in to shore,
hung with many lanterns. The men pull up their nets
and sort the catch in shifting light; they sometimes sing
a song about the moon seducing an old sailor
and drink a bit and fall asleep in their robes.
Later someone puts out the lights one by one.
In between, the days are slow, and I think of you often.
I know what some are saying, that I loved my father
and his estate more than truth and our way of life.
It wasn't the inheritance that called me back,
and I won't return to the assembly or his house.
Demetrius is here, asleep beside me as I write.
He has thrown one of his warm legs over me
in a dream, and two pears with a jar of wine wait
on the table for when he wakes. I wish you understood
how it feels to fear the truth while also loving him.
I still believe this present world is passing away,
but now it is impossible to rejoice with you.
Sometimes when I walk outside the city gates
and I look up into the mountains, toward Rome
where all of you are waiting, I want to come back -
but it doesn't last. I walk home through the colonnade,
listening to the temple priests and fortune tellers,
the eastern caravans selling cedar, pearls, and linen.
The innkeeper's daughter greets me at the door,
the weak hand cupped to her breast. She has been
praying to a small bright god in the corner
of her room, for health and peace, as she has been taught.
I will go upstairs and place my arms around the loved
and living body of one who owns no household gods,
who confesses no world but this. We will watch
the sky turn dark and wait for fishermen to light
their lamps and disappear across the invisible sea.
I pray to the God I remember, whom I love and fail
to love, knowing words are all I have to bind
us to each other, knowing they are passing too.
Grace be with you.
- Kristin Fogdall
What you've heard is true - I've gone to Thessilonika.
I've taken a room above the agora with a view
of the harbor and wake too early to merchants' voices,
bleatings of every sort, and carpets being beaten.
The innkeeper and his wife bring bread - they are kind,
and their daughter is pretty, though she has a withered hand.
At night I watch the fishing boats come in to shore,
hung with many lanterns. The men pull up their nets
and sort the catch in shifting light; they sometimes sing
a song about the moon seducing an old sailor
and drink a bit and fall asleep in their robes.
Later someone puts out the lights one by one.
In between, the days are slow, and I think of you often.
I know what some are saying, that I loved my father
and his estate more than truth and our way of life.
It wasn't the inheritance that called me back,
and I won't return to the assembly or his house.
Demetrius is here, asleep beside me as I write.
He has thrown one of his warm legs over me
in a dream, and two pears with a jar of wine wait
on the table for when he wakes. I wish you understood
how it feels to fear the truth while also loving him.
I still believe this present world is passing away,
but now it is impossible to rejoice with you.
Sometimes when I walk outside the city gates
and I look up into the mountains, toward Rome
where all of you are waiting, I want to come back -
but it doesn't last. I walk home through the colonnade,
listening to the temple priests and fortune tellers,
the eastern caravans selling cedar, pearls, and linen.
The innkeeper's daughter greets me at the door,
the weak hand cupped to her breast. She has been
praying to a small bright god in the corner
of her room, for health and peace, as she has been taught.
I will go upstairs and place my arms around the loved
and living body of one who owns no household gods,
who confesses no world but this. We will watch
the sky turn dark and wait for fishermen to light
their lamps and disappear across the invisible sea.
I pray to the God I remember, whom I love and fail
to love, knowing words are all I have to bind
us to each other, knowing they are passing too.
Grace be with you.
- Kristin Fogdall
Saturday, April 10, 2010
to carry corn whither he would / you can't not love feudal law
"There were no profits so small as to be below the king’s attention. Henry, son of Arthur, gave ten dogs, to have a recognition against the countess of Copland for one knight’s fee. Roger, son of Nicholas, gave twenty lampreys and twenty shads for an inquest to find, whether Gilbert, son of Alured, gave to Roger 200 muttons to obtain his confirmation for certain lands, or whether Roger took them from him by violence: Geoffrey Fitz-Pierre, the chief justiciary, gave two good Norway hawks, that Walter le Madine might have leave to export a hundred weight of cheese out of the king’s dominions.
...The wife of Hugh de Nevile gave the king 200 hens, that she might lie with her husband one night; and she brought with her two sureties, who answered each for a hundred hens. It is probable that her husband was a prisoner, which debarred her from having access to him. The abbot of Rucford paid ten marks, for leave to erect houses and place men upon his land near Welhang, in order to secure his wood there from being stolen: Hugh archdeacon of Wells, gave one tun of wine for leave to carry 600 summs of corn whither he would: Peter de Perariis gave twenty marks for leave to salt fishes, as Peter Chevalier used to do.
...Richard de Neville gave twenty palfreys to obtain the king’s request to Isolda Bisset, that she should take him for a husband: Roger Fitz-Walter gave three good palfreys to have the king’s letter to Roger Bertram’s mother, that she should marry him: Eling, the dean, paid 100 marks, that his whore and his children might be let out upon bail: The bishop of Winchester gave one tun of good wine for his not putting the king in mind to give a girdle to the countess of Albemarle:s Robert de Veaux gave five of the best palfreys, that the king would hold his tongue about Henry Pinel’s wife."
- Hume, History of England, Vol. 1
...Richard de Neville gave twenty palfreys to obtain the king’s request to Isolda Bisset, that she should take him for a husband: Roger Fitz-Walter gave three good palfreys to have the king’s letter to Roger Bertram’s mother, that she should marry him: Eling, the dean, paid 100 marks, that his whore and his children might be let out upon bail: The bishop of Winchester gave one tun of good wine for his not putting the king in mind to give a girdle to the countess of Albemarle:s Robert de Veaux gave five of the best palfreys, that the king would hold his tongue about Henry Pinel’s wife."
- Hume, History of England, Vol. 1
jewellery
"Innocent, sensible that this flagrant usurpation [appointing his man Archbishop of Canterbury] would be highly resented by the court of England, wrote [King] John a mollifying letter; sent him four golden rings set with precious stones; and endeavoured to enhance the value of the present, by informing him of the many mysteries implied in it. He begged him to consider seriously the form of the rings, their number, their matter, and their colour. Their form, he said, being round, shadowed out Eternity, which had neither beginning nor end; and he ought thence to learn his duty of aspiring from earthly objects to heavenly, from things temporal to things eternal. The number four, being a square, denoted steadiness of mind, not to be subverted either by adversity or prosperity, fixed for ever on the firm basis of the four cardinal virtues. Gold, which is the matter, being the most precious of metals, signified Wisdom, which is the most valuable of all accomplishments, and justly preferred by Solomon to riches, power, and all exterior attainments. The blue colour of the saphire represented Faith; the verdure of the emerald, Hope; the redness of the ruby, Charity; and the splendor of the topaz, Good Works. By these conceits, Innocent endeavoured to repay John for one of the most important prerogatives of his crown, which he had ravished from him; conceits probably admired by Innocent himself. For it is easily possible for a man, especially in a barbarous age, to unite strong talents for business with an absurd taste for literature and in the arts." - Ibid.
(John was not impressed.)
(John was not impressed.)
Status
"The Greek prince [of Cyprus], being thrown into prison and loaded with irons, complained of the little regard with which he was treated: Upon which, Richard [the Lionheart] ordered silver fetters to be made for him; and this emperor, pleased with the distinction, expressed a sense of the generosity of his conqueror." Hume, History of England, Vol. 1.
Friday, April 09, 2010
compensation
"By the laws of Ethelbert*, any one who committed adultery with his neighbour’s wife was obliged to pay him a fine, and buy him another wife." Hume, History of England, Vol. 1.
*Saxon king of Kent, roundabout 530ish.
*Saxon king of Kent, roundabout 530ish.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
most expensive salad ever
"It was not till the end of this reign [of Henry VIII] that any sallads, carrots, turnips, or other edible roots were produced in England. The little of these vegetables, that was used, was formerly imported from Holland and Flanders. Queen Catherine, when she wanted a sallad, was obliged to dispatch a messenger thither on purpose." - Hume, History of England, Vol. 3.
Monday, April 05, 2010
kill sin pimple
"It was usual for the pretended saints at that time [of Oliver Cromwell - this is his first or so parliament as Protector, roundabout 1653] to change their names from Henry, Edward, Anthony, William, which they regarded as heathenish, into others more sanctified and godly: Even the New Testament names, James, Andrew, John, Peter, were not held in such regard as those which were borrowed from the Old Testament, Hezekiah, Habbakuk, Joshua, Zerobabel. Sometimes a whole godly sentence was adopted as a name.
Here are the names of a jury said to be enclosed in the county of Sussex about that time.
Accepted, Trevor of Northam.
Redeemed, Compton of Battle.
See Brome’s Travels into England, p. 279. “Cromwell,” says Cleveland, “hath beat up his drums clean through the Old Testament. You may learn the genealogy of our Saviour by the names of his regiment. The muster-master has no other list, than the first chapter of St. Matthew.” The brother of this Praise-god Barebone had for name, If Christ had not died for you, you had been damned Barebone. But the people, tired of this long name, retained only the last word, and commonly gave him the appellation of Damn’d Barebone."
Here are the names of a jury said to be enclosed in the county of Sussex about that time.
Accepted, Trevor of Northam.
Redeemed, Compton of Battle.
Faint not, Hewit of Heathfield.
Make Peace, Heaton of Hare.
God Reward, Smart of Fivehurst.
Standfast on High, Stringer of Crowhurst.
Earth, Adams of Warbleton.
Called, Lower of the same.
Kill Sin, Pimple of Witham.
Return, Spelman of Watling.
Be Faithful, Joiner of Britling.
Fly Debate, Roberts of the same.
Fight the good Fight of Faith, White of Emer.
More Fruit, Fowler of East Hadley.
Hope for, Bending of the same.
Graceful, Harding of Lewes.
Fight the good Fight of Faith, White of Emer.
More Fruit, Fowler of East Hadley.
Hope for, Bending of the same.
Graceful, Harding of Lewes.
Weep not, Biling of the same.
Meek, Brewer of Okeham.
See Brome’s Travels into England, p. 279. “Cromwell,” says Cleveland, “hath beat up his drums clean through the Old Testament. You may learn the genealogy of our Saviour by the names of his regiment. The muster-master has no other list, than the first chapter of St. Matthew.” The brother of this Praise-god Barebone had for name, If Christ had not died for you, you had been damned Barebone. But the people, tired of this long name, retained only the last word, and commonly gave him the appellation of Damn’d Barebone."
From Hume's History of England, Vol 6, a footnote somewhere.