The hardcore role-players will wake up one day feeling, like a dead weight on their chest, the strain of endless texting in Renaissance Faire English—yet dutifully go on theeing and thouing all the same.

I’ll tell thee all my whole device / When I am in my coach, which stays for us.

Her mom made her break up with me when she found a note I wrote to Linda; she found it obscene. I found HER obscene.

I have other fish to fry; so good-morrow, my ladies all, good-morrow.