golden oldie

[kip_w]

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All this talk of Marlowe makes me feel like quoting:

For long and weary hours, I bored myself
Counting the old, tired webs of spiders
In my narrow office. Just then I heard
A ringing sound from the bell out front,
And in my dismal garrett I beheld
A wench who made a good first impression
To my eyes. Her face, I thought could launch
A thousand or so ships, her eyes burn down
A hell of a lot of topless towers.
I took in her form and her tear-streaked face
She beseechingly asked, "Mister Marlowe?
I'm in trouble. They told me you could help."

(Christopher Marlowe, _The Tragedy of The Big Slumber_, act I)
[channelled by me and reprinted from rec.arts.sf.fandom, january 2003]
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