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The Anglish Moot

Twoth oversetting gamehild

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Main:Oversetting gamehild
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This is the twoth oversetting gamehild. The writ to overset is the first few lines or the wholeness of Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart.

The tale is rich in words of Old English, but there are some outlandish words. Also the speachcraft is a bit unwonely where some towickings follow thingword wrongly making them seen as ferewords. Pay heed to the missen oversettings of "dissimulation".

WellspringEdit

The full writ can be found here. Below are the first few lines:

True! — nervousvery, very dreadfully nervous I had been, and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not destroyed — not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Harken! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! — yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture ((from French, but OE ultor is Latinate)) — a pale blue ((from Old french, blae is from OE)) eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so, by degreesvery gradually — I made up my mind ((from OE mynd and not French mente)) to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what foresight — with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it — oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I first put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly — very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see the old man as he lay upon his bed. Ha! — would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously — oh, so cautiously (for the hinges creaked) — I undid it just so much that a single thin ray ((albeit <Old French as reie<an unattested Gaulish word (cognate with Welsh rhych furrow))) fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights — every night just at midnight — but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into his chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

ClipboardEdit

Irksomely, betwixlandsome keyboards lack some staves that may be needed for the adighters who wish to brook a spelling framework grounded on Old english tung spelling. Therefore, they are given here:

  • em dash: — (the writ has many, some "non-standard usage")
  • thorn: þ (th as in thin)
  • edh: ð (dh, th as in this)
  • ash: æ (some forms of a)
  • wynn: ƿ (w in "insular script")
  • Insular g: ᵹ (the middle English yogh (ȝ) is a lookalike of a tailed zed was noted)

EinWulf's OversetEdit

True! — high-strungso, so dreadfully high-strung I had been, and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my witts — not benothinged — not dulled them. Above all was the witt of hearing sharp. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Harken! and see how healthily — how coolly I can tell you the whole tale.

I cannot say how first the thought came into my brain; but, once thought, it haunted me day and night. Goal there was none. Fire (Passion is a fore-1066 Latinate) there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never slighted me. For his gold I had no wish. I think it was his eye! — yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture — a light blue ((blue has Germanic roots)) eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so, by stepsever so slowly — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the ord. You think me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I went ahead — with what care — with what foresight — with what fakeness I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it — oh so eath! And then, when I had made an opening enuff for my head, I first put in a dark glim, all shut, shut, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly — so, so slowly, so that I might not bother the old man’s sleep. It took me an belltide to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see the old man as he lay upon his bed. Ha! — would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the glim carefully — oh, so carefully (for the hinges creaked) — I undid it just so much that an anfald thin beam fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights — every night right at midnight — but I found the eye always shut; and so it was unmightlic to do the work; for it was not the old man who irked me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into his room, and spoke fearlessly to him, calling him by name in a hearty lude, and asking how went the night. So you see he would have been a sore insightful old man, indeed, to underlook that every night, right at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Oversetting by SpeechlarerEdit

True! –restlesssore, sore dreadfully restless I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The sickness had sharpened my wits --not fornaught(en)ed --not dulled them. Above all was the wit of hearing sharp. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and behold how healthily --how mildly I can tell you the whole tale. It cannot be said how first the thought came into my brain; but once grasped, it haunted me day and night. Of ends there was none. Mood there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me slight. For his gold I had no lust. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a gripe(-fowl) --a wan blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so step by step--sore bitmeal --I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever. Now this is the thing. You ween me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I went forward --with what care --with what foresight --with what wiliness I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I wended the latch of his door and opened it --oh so lithely! And then, when I had made an opening enough for my head, I put in a dark lightfat (or maybe handbeacon?), all shut, shut, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly --sore, sore slowly, so that I might not stir the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to put my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this, And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lightfat (handbeacon) carefully-oh, so carefully --carefully (for the hinges creaked) --I undid it only so much that a lone thin beam fell upon the gripe(-fowl)’s eye. And this I did for seven long nights --every night right at midnight --but I found the eye always shut; and so it was unmayly to do the work; for it was not the old man who irked me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the bower, and spoke daringly to him, calling him by name in a hearty pitch, and frained how he has spent the night. So you see he would have been a sore wise old man, indeed, to ween that every night, right at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Oversetting by SquidoniusEdit

True! — edgysorely, sorely dreadfully edgy I had been, and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my angits — not abreeted/abrote — not dulled them. Above all was the angit of hearing sharp. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Harken! and watch how healthily — how smoltly I can tell you the whole tale.

It is unmighty to say how first the wen came into my brain; but, once begotten, it haunted me day and night. Atighting there was none. Tholing there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me bismer. For his gold I had no crave. I think it was his eye! — yes, it was this! He had the eye of a ultor — a bleak blae eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so, by stepssorely brokemeal — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the trice (=interval!). You selfwill me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I asty — with what heedfulness — with what foresight — with what lichetting I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it — oh so meekly! And then, when I had made an opening enoughsome for my head, I first put in a dark firefatle, so it , all shut, shut, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly — sorely, sorely slowly, so that I might not dreve the old man’s sleep. It took me an stound to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see the old man as he lay upon his bed. Ha! — would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the firefatle heedfully — oh, so heedfully (for the hinges creaked) — I undid it just so much that a anfold thin leam fell upon the ultor eye. And this I did for seven long nights — every night only at midnight — but I found the eye always shut; and so it was unmighty to do the work; for it was not the old man who irked me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into his room, and spoke fearlessly to him, calling him by name in a hearty suchness (=quality!), and fraining how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a sorely deepsome old man, indeed, to forwen that every night, only at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Oversetting by Oswax Scolere/RootsenglishEdit

See:here

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