Upon Bottles, Blades, and Ballads

With jaunty lute, hand-drum momentum, and the sweep of a swashbuckling tale, Upon Bottles, Blades, and Ballads finds Seraphino surveying the familiar rogue, captain, and musketeer archetypes—and concluding that popular culture has borrowed rather liberally from him. He neither confirms nor denies the adventures attributed to him; mystery, after all, is part of proper presentation.

I have beheld my likeness upon bottles, playbills, tavern signs, and persons who had plainly purchased a feather before acquiring the character required to wear it. Again and again there appeareth the same figure: velvet-clad, blade at side, goblet raised, and entirely too pleased with his own entrance. I make no accusation of theft. I merely observe that coincidence hath grown unusually well dressed.

The music required a gait rather than a march—the confident progress of a gentleman who may possess a map but hath never allowed it to overrule his instincts. Lute and drum keep the tale upon its feet whilst the larger arrangement grants each doubtful recollection the dignity of legend. Was I at sea? Did steel ring at dawn? Such questions are improved by insufficient documentation. A life explained in full becometh biography; a life properly withheld becometh ballad.