Yesterday
evening, I had the pleasure of spending the evening at the Hall of the Hotel de
Bourgogne to watch La Clorise… well,
that is if one considers watching that half-wit, Montfleury, prattle through
his lines with hardly a true emotion in his words pleasure! Hah! I endured his
dreadful lack of thespian prowess for hardly a scene before I intervened. I
demanded that he leave the stage immediately, and frightened him off into the
wings. Of course, I knew that most of the attendees would demand a refund, so I
was sure to pay the manager a hefty sum to compensate for his loss.
All
the while, I felt a gaze upon me. When I looked up into the balcony, my eyes
fell upon the fairest and most beautiful woman in all of France; The Lady
Roxane. My heart fluttered so loudly I hardly doubted that the entire theater
could hear it beating. We locked eyes for a moment, but I quickly looked away,
embarrassed. Even though I love her, and would and treat her like a princess, I
know she will never love me. She will never be able to see past my atrocious
nose that masks who I truly am. I try not to be offended by rude remarks and
stares that I receive because of it, but at times the harshness gets to
me. It has, over the years,
made my confidence deteriorate. I hope that my witty and ornate words of love
speak to her louder than does my nose. My very existence would be overcome with
elation if she returned my feelings. I just have to win her heart, but how?
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