Another Tuesday Night With Abélard & Héloïse

By:
markkmetzger@gmail.com

“Dearest Héloïse, cherished glory of my life, I have returned to this blessed domicile where God has anointed us to dwell!”

“Dearest Abélard, most precious jewel of my diadem, alas that the gloam long since has begun to cast its spectering shadow upon this earth. Mayhap it was in error that you vowed you would return ere this dark hour.”

“Dearest Héloïse, sweet nightingale of my spirit, there dare be naught that keeps this piteous soul from the side of his beloved in timely fashion, save the toil that daily cleaves me from your sublime presence.”

“Dearest Abélard, lofty parapet of my castle keep, would it not that he who governs your labor required such protracted exertions from my beloved each day that you travail!”

“Dearest Héloïse, noblest flower of all Christendom, that selfsame governor of whom you speak has verily opined that the accounts payable will not tender themselves.”

“Dearest Abélard, glowing sun of my firmament, might it not be that you have tarried to share of ardent spirits? Again.”

“Dearest Héloïse, cooing pigeon of my dovecote, pray vanquish such conceits as you may harbor in so distasteful a regard! Prithee let not such sordid utterances befoul your lips! Dearest Héloïse, treasure beyond counting, what repast have you readied in fond anticipation of my return?”

“Dearest Abélard, rapture of my bliss, it was my delight lately to secure a quantity of bâtonnets de poisson from Madame Paul.”

“Dearest Héloïse, archangel of my mortal heaven, my heart would leap like a hart at the very whisper of such a banquet had not we partaken of such fare lo these last several eventides. Would that the blessed Lord had bestowed upon us viands of such variety as would bring glory to His name.”

“Dearest Abélard, pincushion of my seamstery, had I but time enough to fashion such a panoply of earthly sustenance as would suit your pleasure! The privation you evince wounds me to the quick of my being.  Let us even so commence forthwith the evening’s refreshment.”

“Dearest Héloïse, nonpareil in female form, vouchsafe unto me yon ketchup. I am passing vexed that the hours of this day did not admit of your transit to the market square, where such an abundance of God’s plenty presents itself.”

“Dearest Abélard, baronet of my fief, I was engaged in absolving this hallowed abode of the sins of its squalor as I tenderly contemplated the arrival of my dear mater this Sabbath’s eve.”

“Dearest Héloïse, winsomest of God’s creations, it falls yet freshly upon these unready ears that such a tarriance would betide us.”

“Dearest Abélard, sounding brass to my tinkling cymbal, the sainted matriarch did convey such intention by her epistle this fortnight past. Perchance you failed to hearken to my communication of this advice, as the archery tourney was in that instant at play.”

“Dearest Héloïse, comeliest doe in the forest of my heart, my soul leaps like a frog in the slough that the materfamilias will bless us with her presence. Albeit she blessed us with such a sojourn this Whitsuntide last and, ere that, Maundy Thursday. Dearest Héloïse, most luscious grape of the vintner’s harvest, does it not befit us that we make merry forthwith, in prescience of her advent? Mayhap such gaiety might countenance our corporeal beings conjoined in the ultimate embrace?”

“Dearest Abélard, ferret of my bosom, would it not that my brow were yet again afflicted with noisome pain! I lament I must repair to the bedchamber for solace.”

“Dearest Héloïse, thistle of my heath, I shall repair thither anon. I yet seek news of this day’s jousts. Good night, Weezie.”

“Good night, Lardo. And prithee fail not to remove the detritus of our quotidian existence!  Recycling is on the morrow ”

 

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