The Lady the Epilogue

2 Mar

It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; but
it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue.

If it be true that good wine needs no bush, ’tis true that a good
blog needs no epilogue. Yet to good wine they do use good bushes;
and good blogs prove the better by the help of good epilogues.

What a case am I in, then, that am neither a good epilogue nor
cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good blog! I am not
furnished like a beggar; therefore to beg will not become me: my
way is to conjure you; and I’ll begin with the women:

I charge you, O women,
for the love you bear to men,
to like as much of this blog as please you.

And I charge you, O men,
for the love you bear to women;
–as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hates them,–
that between you and the women the blog may please.

If I were a woman,
I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me,
complexions that liked me,
and breaths that I defied not;
and, I am sure,
as many as have good beards,
or good faces,
or sweet breaths,
will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy,
bid me farewell.

OK, it’s not necessarily my last post ever, but I am taking a break, and I can’t resist posing (briefly) as Rosalind on the way out the door. Humor me.

Thanks for reading and commenting. Perhaps something along the way was as you like it. ๐Ÿ˜‰

18 Responses to “The Lady the Epilogue”

  1. Andreas Kluth March 2, 2011 at 9:54 am #

    Why are you taking a bloggin break? Just too little time, or tired of it?

  2. Paul Costopoulos March 2, 2011 at 12:25 pm #

    I will miss you. Come back soon. In the meantime, shalom.

  3. Thomas Stazyk March 2, 2011 at 1:11 pm #

    Thanks for many interesting posts and discussions–you will be missed! Best of luck for interesting travels and all the best to you and your family.

  4. dafna March 2, 2011 at 1:51 pm #

    i will miss you very much. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

    perhaps you will leave a tab (page) open, as richard did with the pub, so that we (yourself included) can drop by and chat amongst ourselves?

    hope you will still continue to comment on others blog sites.


    XO dafna

  5. Philippe March 2, 2011 at 2:28 pm #

    I hope this is only be “au revoir”, not “good-bye.” You need time alone, time to recharge your artistic batteries. Then you’ll return, all the better to be a ray of light in our darkness.

    Even if you don’t return (which I sincerely hope won’t happen) you won’t really be gone, for a gal ain’t got a soul of her own, just a little piece of a big soul, the one big soul that belongs to everybody.

    So I hope you’ll always visit us, that you’ll always be around in the dark, so you’ll be everywhere, wherever you can look. Wherever we’re fighting to make ourselves known, so that we can be read, you’ll be there. Wherever there’s a blogger beating up on another one, you’ll be there. You’ll be in the way we rant when we’re mad. You’ll be in the way we laugh when we begin writing, and know the end product will be good. When people are reading the stuff we write, and urging us to write more – you’ll be there too.

    And when you return to your own blog, whenever that will be, you can be sure that we’ll be there.

  6. Man of Roma March 2, 2011 at 3:05 pm #

    We will miss you very much. Sometimes special bloggers don’t know how special they are to readers.

    It may be just a block. Oh I had so many I cannot count them.

    I hug you. We all like you. Intelligent and tough, you’re full of it!

    (I heard this expression once and don’t know what the heck it means but it may well be you).

  7. Cyberquill March 2, 2011 at 3:34 pm #

    I can’t tell if this is a farewell poem or a farewell essay. Are you pulling a Richard here? Back in 60 seconds?

    • Cyberquill March 4, 2011 at 1:50 pm #

      “All our final decisions are made in a state of mind that is not going to last.” (Marcel Proust)

  8. jenny March 2, 2011 at 3:37 pm #

    Wow. This is a little like attending your own wake. Awesome.

    Really, thanks, everybody. Philippe, your comment is so right-up-my-alley that I teared up and laughed at the same time.

    Look, guys, it’s not like we don’t all hang out at the same blogs.

    Andreas, I have to restrain this monster before it breaks into “Puttin’ on the Ritz” in the tradition of YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN. ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

    Cyberquill: Let’s call it a post. That’s safe.

    See all of you around the neighborhood. Again, thanks.

  9. solid gold creativity March 2, 2011 at 5:39 pm #

    Beatrice here. Rosalind .. WTF????

    Measure for measure, ’twere done well, exceedingly well.

    See you round, B xxxxoo

    PS. I think Philippe has given his beard at last.

  10. Geraldine March 3, 2011 at 9:03 pm #

    On reading Jenny’s blog…

    Then felt I like a watcher of the sky
    when a new planet swims into its ken,
    or like stout Cortez when with eagle eye
    stared at the pacific and all his men
    looked at each other with a wild surmise,
    Silence, upon a peak in Darien.

    Keats: On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer.

    Thanks,Jenny. Come back soon.

  11. jenny March 4, 2011 at 6:47 am #

    Geraldine! Solidgold!

    You are so dear!

    This internet that has such people in it, it really is a brave new world.

  12. Mr. Crotchety March 4, 2011 at 12:57 pm #

    Emoticons escape me.

    … and some have blogness thrust upon them.

  13. Andreas Kluth March 4, 2011 at 6:05 pm #

    Well, Jenny, I notice that you’re still here. We’re keeping you busy. that gives me a thought.

    What if we were to start assigning you blog-post topics. Like homework. You’d simply not be allowed to take a blog holiday. You’d get a sentence to discuss, and a deadline.

    Mr C would volunteer to provide the first.

  14. jenny March 5, 2011 at 6:33 am #

    Dear Andreas: Your suggestion is bit of that trademark A.K. generosity of spirit. I’ve seen it before. You encourage all of us to think something, say something, write something, when, really, why should you care? And I don’t think you’re putting it on. I think it’s genuine.

    Nabokov said a writer should be three things: storyteller, teacher, enchanter. Here’s the teacher part (and a hint of the enchanter, as well) that you come by so naturally. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Dear Mr. Crotchety: You and I must catch up around the Hannibal Blog water cooler. You will frequently find me there, striking a pose, generally trying to be cool, and wondering, along with everyone else, when Mr. Crotchety will show up. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Dear Cyberquill: I understood that this post would look like a coy plea for wild-thing cries of “Oh, please don’t go, we’ll eat you up we love you so!” It can’t be helped. It’s not a high-drama, the-rest-is-silence departure. I’m reading and commenting on blogs, as always. So, in a sense, you are right: back in 60 seconds, perhaps sooner.

    I just have to stop writing the blog. For a while. Longer than 60 seconds, I promise. ๐Ÿ™‚

  15. sledpress March 5, 2011 at 7:56 am #

    I had a newspaper column once and I stopped and no one seemed to understand that I just had some other things I needed to do. As long as you keep dropping in on all of us it is good. If not, I suspect there will be this fearful posse closing in on you.

  16. Artswebshow March 6, 2011 at 2:50 am #

    Enjoy your break.
    Dont be gone too long

  17. Hieronymo March 7, 2011 at 4:38 pm #

    What? I’m not sure I feel very good about change.

    [The distant sound is heard, as if from the sky, of a breaking string, dying away sadly.]

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