In the darkness of his writing-room, William Butler Yeats, internationally-celebrated poet and future Nobel laureate, was in the process of receiving a piece of rather unpleasant news.
“So, er, what is this, then?” said Yeats, adjusting his spectacles and peering down at the legal document in his hands.
“It’s a blooming cease and desist letter, Willie,” said Maud Gonne, Yeats’s muse and occasional correspondent, and the reluctant object of both his affections and his somewhat torrid verse.
The Scrivnarium 