Because most philosophies that frown on reproduction don't survive.

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Chrononhototh-what?

Courtesy of Dr. Boli:  THINGS WE SIMPLY CANNOT IMPROVE, which in this case happens to be "the most tragical tragedy that ever was tragediz’d by any Company of Tragedians", to wit, The Tragedy of Chrononhotonthologos.

I just... I just can't write anything as interesting as The Tragedy of Chrononhotonthologos. With lines such as 

"Go call a coach; and let a coach be call’d;
And let the man that calls it be the caller;
And, in his calling, let him nothing call
But Coach! Coach! Coach! O! for a coach, ye gods!"


and

"Thanks to your Majesty; give me the Money;
Let me alone to find my self a Honey"

and the excessive and increasingly hysterical use of the long s, I thought it was a parody, carefully penned and then elaborately aged and scanned into Google Books, but no. It's a real play, written by Henry Carey in 1734.

Go ye and read.

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