“O’ Othello, Othello”
“Why yes my dear fellow?”
“I dare ask whom hath made that damned Cello?”
“Which one?” Asked Othello
“The one the devil’s son has taken to fiddle.”
“Oh! Why that one good son, came from non other than Lady Lilith,
the fairest one.”
Tomorrow, tomorrow, and many more ‘morrows ago, there was born a great Cello. It was not built, nor was it bred, it simple was and that is better left unsaid. Sold in the market by goblins most vile, to young Lilith whom hid her smile.
Lily had heard sea tales from the shipyard that the sailors had discovered a great treasure on their last trip and with it, countless riches. It had been an Imperial Escort run it’s course on a rock in the night, and thought lost to the depths. The sailors spoke of diamonds & gold, rubies & pearls, and of a Cello locked away in a vault. To this Lily paid careful attention as she wondered why amongst all that wealth, it was this string that was protected above all us. The sailors drank and sang and their tales become less helpful so she made plans to visit the Bazaar the next day.