How would God respond to making a mistake? Would planets collide or mountains slide into the sea? Or would the ledger of all life simply remain out kilter until a series of small events forced that ledger back into balance again? It's probably the l...
flot•sam: noun; the wreckage of a ship or its cargo found floating on or washed up by the sea.
jet•sam: noun; unwanted material or goods that have been thrown overboard from a ship and washed ashore, especially material that has been discarded to lighten the vessel.
Apologies to the reader: The false text shown below was found on two leaves of paper which had been inserted between pages 112 and 113 of The Tragedie of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark.
The aforementioned copy of the play was found at the Enoch Pratt Free Library, Central Branch, 400 Cathedral Street, Baltimore, Maryland, 21201.
(Dewey Decimal: 822.33 S7 v56)
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Act 5. Scene 1A. A ship on stormy seas.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Guildenstern: We must go below. The storm rises yet again.
Rosencrantz: It is too late, I think. Look. The seas now abound with trash.
Guildenstern: Surely, our good fortune must hold. My feet are firm upon these planks.
Rosencrantz: But dear Guildenstern, our holds are cleared of stores and now, dark birds bob on open water. Those and others, too. Even now, they await us. Would that we could fly to calmer shores, but I fear these blackest birds fear God more than they fear Guildenstern and Rosencrantz.
Guildenstern: Why, dear Rosencrantz, should this darkish omen be marked for us?
Rosencrantz: Our hope was what they hove, my friend. Where once was hope is now exchanged with haste. Look there. And there. The darkish birds of fate have drawn their daggers.
Enter Pirate Captain and Crew.
Pirate Captain: Take them. Hold them fast.
Rosencrantz: Kind sir, we need no help. We are steady where we stand.
Pirate Captain: Your steadiness shall be tested soon. No one save angels can walk on such inconstant ground. I ask have you that power?
Rosencrantz: Wait, sir, I would want to see my home again.
Pirate Captain: Each here has the self-same wish, but unless you can walk from here to there you shall see no red kite fly above your head. [33]
Rosencrantz: Surely, sir, you must mean the feather'd kite. [34]
Pirate Captain: (To his crew) This is no man! He is a chirping wren. (To Rosencrantz) Grow your feathers, little bird. If not, the waves will quiet your song as well as your soul.
Guildenstern: Pray sir, we have done no harm to you.
Rosencrantz: Yes. Yes. Pray sir, we have done no harm. No harm indeed and a handsome sum to split if our lives are spared. The King shall see to'it.
