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Re: Forms of address...

     Evan da Collaureo enlivens an otherwise quiet evening with a 
     story of their Middle Magesties, Finn and Garlanda, Graf 
     Steffan, and pet names that migrated into the lists, here 
     omitted to save space.  Ianthe tells an embarrassing story in 
     similar vein:
     As he is my lord and husband, I have granted Don Fernando 
     considerable latitude in the forms he may address me by, but 
     even he has treaded close to danger.
     At Pennsic VI, Fernando (as King) woke me with a resounding 
     slap on the rump, and the bellow "UP WENCH!  WE GO TO WAR!"  
     In gentle response, I tripped him.  He fell into our piled 
     armor with a resounding crash.  I jumped up and bellowed back 
     Outside the tent a dead silence came over the camping 
     neighborhood - except for birdsong... and the strangled gurgle 
     of (then) Prince Frederick of Holland, who was choking on his 
     morning coffee by our fire.
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