John William Waterhouse Miranda - The Tempest

John William Waterhouse Miranda - The TempestJohn William Waterhouse My Sweet RoseJohn William Waterhouse Gather ye rosebuds while ye mayLeonardo da Vinci Leda and the SwanLeonardo da Vinci St John in the Wilderness
upon a time it had been black velvet; now it was just black. It was carefully and slowly fastened by a tarnished silver brooch.
No samurai, no questing knight, was ever dressed with as much ceremony.
Finally Granny drew herself up, surveyed her dark reflection in the glass, gave a thin little smile of approval, and left success. She didn't have much practice. She was beginning to wonder if she'd overdone the eyeshadow.
Her neck, fingers and arms between them carried enough silverware to make a full-sized dinner service, and over everything she had thrown a black cloak lined with red silk.via the back door.The air of menace was only slightly dispelled by the sound of her running up and down outside, trying to get her broomstick started. Magrat was also regarding herself in the mirror.She'd dug out a startlingly green dress that was designed to be both revealing and clinging, and would have been if Magrat had anything to display or cling to, so she'd shoved a couple of rolled-up stockings down the front in an effort to make good the more obvious deficiencies. She had also tried a spell on her hair, but it was naturally magic-resistant and already the natural shape was beginning to assert itself (a dandelion clock at about 2pm).Magrat had also tried makeup. This wasn't an unqualified