A disquieted, quivering Paolo Pulzone was admiring from afar the lovely Anna Archer, who was standing stock still upon the hillock, the wind gently giving rise to the flowing blond tresses of the lass. It was all Paolo could do to bridle his conflicting emotions and not cast aspersions upon the guileless and fletching Anna.
She had had a quarrel with her beau, now cross, but wished not to prod the excitable Pulzone to rack and ruin by releasing further invective upon his head. The strings of his heart were already all atwang; the broad headed bowyer needed no further triggers setting him off-target. He had reached his nocking point and all his levers were soon to become unhinged.
"Verretto verretto non quadrello dardo," mused the spineless and cross beau, as he stropped on his stirrups and headed home.
Posts
