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I am a retired federal employee who occasionally self-publishes books about hidden messages in Shakespeare.

Thursday, December 14, 2023

The Hidden Bard of Love's Labour's Lost

This is a solution to a puzzle in Love's Labour's Lost
 
The solution to this puzzle relies, in part, on the work of the late Alexander Waugh. Mr. Waugh discovered that in the works of Shakespeare the number 1740 is repeatedly encoded. Furthermore, the numbers 17, 40, 57 (17 + 40 = 57), and 1740 are associated with Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford. See Mr. Waugh's YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@alexanderwaugh7036; and the video "The Incalculable Genius of John Dee" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-PWR7-0Hp4&t=4s. The word counts displayed on the image below rely on these numbers.

In this post, I am going to rely extensively on the etymology of the words. This method has been used for years by Michael and Spencer Stepniewski.  I subsequently stumbled upon their method independently, sort of like Newton's and Leibnitz's independent development of calculus. I only recently learned of Michael and Spencer Stepniewski's work after listening to an episode of the podcast of Don't Quill The Messenger entitled The Rape of Princess Elizabeth. See
Dragon Wagon Radio. (2026, March 20). The Rape of Princess Elizabeth [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m-Ctmz-GXE
 
Michael and Spencer Stepniewski's website can be found here:

Oxford-Seymour.com. (n.d.). Oxford-Seymour Theory - Shakespeare’s Will: The Method in his Madness - by Michael and Spencer Stepniewski. Copyright 2020 Dragonwyck Web Design LLC. https://oxford-seymour.com/

The puzzle which is the subject of this post is found in the First Folio of Shakespeare (1623) on page 139 of the Comedies, a page from Love’s Labour’s Lost. The solution to the puzzle results in the message OXE-AN-FORD, the title of Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford.

As an introduction to this post, there are several lines on the first page of Love’s Labour’s Lost that I have been puzzling over. Here are the lines:

Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest. 

What is the end of study, let me know? 

   Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not 

know. 

   Ber. Things hid & bard (you meane) frõ cõmon sense. 

   Ferd. I, that is studies god-like recompence. 

   Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so, 

To know the thing I am forbid to know: 

As thus, to study where I well may dine, 

When I to fast expressely am forbid. 

Or studie where to meet some Mistresse fine, 

When Mistresses from common sense are hid. 

Or hauing sworne too hard a keeping oath, 

Studie to breake it, and not breake my troth. 

If studies gaine be thus, and this be so, 

Studie knowes that which yet it doth not know, 

Sweare me to this, and I will nere say no. 



Love’s Labor’s Lost (Folio 1, 1623) :: Internet Shakespeare Editions. (2019, January 11). https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/LLL_F1/complete/index.html

  

In the lines, Berowne says that the purpose of study is to know “things hid & bard” from common sense. I noticed, and I am sure others have noticed this as well, that the words “hid & bard” sounds like “hidden bard.” Thus, the lines hint at the possibility of knowing the name of the hidden bard who wrote Shakespeare.
 
The other interesting thing is that the words “when Mistresses from common sense are hid,” appear a few lines later. The reference to "common sense" in the two lines are nearly identical, so the lines seem to be related. The only scene in the play were mistresses or ladies are hidden appears at Act V, scene 2 (pages 138-139 of the Comedies), where the Princess of France and her ladies wear masks before meeting the disguised King of Navarre and his lords. Therefore, the lines about the “hidden bard” and the hidden mistresses hint that the name of the hidden poet can be found somewhere in Act V, scene 2, on pages 138-139 of the Comedies. This post solves a puzzle on page 139 indicating that Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, is the “hidden bard” Shakespeare.

As previously mentioned, the puzzle solved in this post is found in Act V, scene 2, Love’s Labour’s Lost, pages 138-139 of the Comedies, Shakespeare’s First Folio (1623). At this point in the play, Ferdinand, the King of Navarre, and his men arrive, disguised as Muscovites, at the tents of the Princess of France (later the queen) and her ladies. However, the princess and her ladies have been warned of the king’s approach by Boyet, the witty attendant of the princess, and are themselves masked. To add to the confusion, the princess and Lady Rosaline exchange favors so that they outwardly appear as to be each other. The king and his men enter, and battle of wits ensues between the men and the women. The men wrongly assume they have correctly identified each of the women, and the women thoroughly thrash the men in the battle of wits.

The solution to finding the name of the hidden bard (the Earl of Oxford) relies on a series of word counts based on the 1740, 17, 40, 57 (17 + 40 = 57) number concept originated by Alexander Waugh. (See reference above.)  The solution is presented in the image below.



The solution to this puzzle relies on counting the words at the top of the left-hand column of page 139 of the Comedies, First Folio of Shakespeare, Love’s Labour’s Lost. This leads to the question – Is there anything in the text that hints that the reader should count words to find the “hidden bard”? And, the answer is – Yes, there is.

   Berow. By yea and nay sir, than I swore in iest. 

What is the end of study, let me know? 

   Fer. Why that to know which else wee should not 

know. 

   Ber. Things hid & bard (you meane) frõ cõmon sense. 

   Ferd. I, that is studies god-like recompence. 

   Bero. Come on then, I will sweare to studie so, 

To know the thing I am forbid to know: 

As thus, to study where I well may dine, 

When I to fast expressely am forbid. 

Or studie where to meet some Mistresse fine, 

When Mistresses from common sense are hid. 

Or hauing sworne too hard a keeping oath, 

Studie to breake it, and not breake my troth. 

If studies gaine be thus, and this be so, 

Studie knowes that which yet it doth not know, 

Sweare me to this, and I will nere say no. 

Love’s Labor’s Lost (Folio 1, 1623) :: Internet Shakespeare Editions. (2019, January 11).https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/LLL_F1/complete/index.html



Thus, the first clue is that the hidden bard is “hid & bard...from common sense.” The second clue is that we are supposed to use French to solve the puzzle:

 

   Rosa. What would these strangers? 

Know their mindes Boyet. 

If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will 

That some plaine man recount their purposes. 

Know what they would? 

 

Love’s Labor’s Lost (Folio 1, 1623) :: Internet Shakespeare Editions. (2019, January 11). https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/LLL_F1/complete/index.html

The etymology of the word “common” is--


common (adj.)

c. 1300, "belonging to all, owned or used jointly, general, of a public nature or character," from Old French comun "common, general, free, open, public" (9c., Modern French commun), from Latin communis "in common, public, shared by all or many; general, not specific; familiar, not pretentious."

https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=common.

“Common” can also mean “[f]ound in large numbers or in a large quantity; usual.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/common.

The Old French word for “sense” is sens, meaning “reason; ability to reason or think.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/sens#Old_French. In addition, the French words cense, meaning “(obsolete) a census”, and censé, meaning “supposed to, meant to” (synonym: supposé; past participle of supposer, meaning “to suppose, to think, to reckon, to surmise; to suggest, to imply”) are homonyms of the French word sens. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/cense; https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/cens%C3%A9. The Latin root of the word censé is censeo, the meaning of which includes “to count or reckon, assess." https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/censeo#Latin.
It should also be noted that at the conclusion of the battle of wits Boyet says:

 

Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen 

As is the Razors edge, inuisible: 

Cutting a smaller haire then may be seene, 

Aboue the sense of sence so sensible: 

Seemeth their conference, their conceits haue wings, 

Fleeter then arrows, bullets wind, thoght, swifter things. 


Love’s Labor’s Lost (Folio 1, 1623) :: Internet Shakespeare Editions. (2019, January 11). https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/LLL_F1/complete/index.html


Therefore, since [F.] censé and [L.] censeo mean “to count or reckon,” Boyet’s mention of “sense” (i.e., censé) three times could allude to three successive word counts. As seen in the image of the puzzle solution, there are three successive word counts: one count of 57 words, followed by a count of 17 words, and finally a count of 40 words.

The Latin word censeo also means “to register the citizens, perform the task of a censor.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/censeo#Latin.


In ancient Rome, a censor was--

One of the two magistrates who originally administered the census of citizens, and by Classical times (between the 8th century B.C.E. and the 6th century C.E.) was a high judge of public behaviour and morality.

 

Over time, a censor became--

An official responsible for the removal or suppression of objectionable material (for example, if obscene or likely to incite violence) or sensitive content in books, films, correspondence, and other media.

 

Bringing these concepts together, the meaning of “[a hidden bard] hid & bard...from common sense” is that the hidden bard’s true identity is being hidden from free, open, and public discussion, and that his identity is hidden by some sort of numerical cipher to avoid government censors.

This interpretation is reinforced by Lady Rosaline’s statement before the mask scene:

 

Rosa. What would these strangers? 

Know their mindes Boyet. 

If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will 

That some plaine man recount their purposes. 

Know what they would? 

 

Love’s Labor’s Lost (Folio 1, 1623) :: Internet Shakespeare Editions. (2019, January 11). https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/LLL_F1/complete/index.html

The French word for “speak” is parler, which means “(transitive) to be able to communicate in a language; to speak.” However, it can also mean “(heraldry) to cant; (of a coat of arms) to make a pun of its bearer's name.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/parler. The word “cant” can mean “A private or secret language used by a religious sect, gang, or other group,” and “(heraldry) [a] blazon of a coat of arms that makes a pun upon the name (or, less often, some attribute or function) of the bearer, canting arms.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/cant#English; https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=cant. Therefore, the French word parler alludes to the punning word play that hides the “Oxenford” message at the top left-hand column of page 139 of Love’s Labor’s Lost.

 

The French word for “plain” is ordinaire (ordinary). https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ordinaire. The etymology of ordinaire is “[i]nherited from Old French ordinaire, borrowed from Latin ōrdinārius, from Latin ōrdō (whence French ordre) + -ārius (whence -aire).” The Latin word ordinarius is derived “from ōrdō, ōrdinis (“order, arrangement”) +‎ -ārius.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ordinarius#Latin. The Latin word ordo means “a methodical series, arrangement, or order; regular line, row, or series.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ordo#Latin. Therefore, the French word ordinaire hints at the methodical, ordered numerical arrangement of the words at the top left-hand column of page 139 of Love’s Labor’s Lost that hide the “Oxenford” message. In addition, the –aire ending of the word ordinaire hints that the fact that Edward de Vere was the hidden Tudor heir to the throne of England.

The line “[t]hat some plaine man recount their purposes” in Lady Rosaline’s statement also contains complex wordplay.
   


The English word “some” can be translated into French as certains, meaning “some, some people” (plural of certain). https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/certains. The French word certain can mean “certain, guaranteed (sure, positive)”, or “of indefinite, unknown or simply unmentioned identity, quality or quantity.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/certain#French. As certain can mean “sure,” it may allude to the Latin words vero and verus, which mean “in truth, in fact, certainly, truly, to be sure, surely, assuredly.” https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0060:entry=vero. Vero and verus are wordplay on the name de Vere.  Since "certain" can also mean “of indefinite, unknown or simply unmentioned identity, ... quantity," it alludes to the numerical puzzle that hides the “Oxenford” solution at the top of the left-hand column of page 139.


The word “plain” (F., ordinaire) has already been discussed; however, we have not yet discussed its homonym “plane” (i.e., level).  A French word for “plane” is niveler, which means “to level, level out (ground); to even, even out (put on the same level),” and niveler happens to be an anagram of “nil Vere.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/niveler. "Nil” is “[b]orrowed from Latin nīl, a contraction of nihil, nihilum (“nothing”).” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/nil. Furthermore, a dated meaning of the word “cipher” is “zero; nothing,” and “cipher” can also mean “[a] method of transforming a text in order to conceal its meaning.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/cipher. Therefore, through its homonym, “plane,” the word “plain” in Lady Rosaline’s lines alludes to the numerical cipher about Edward de Vere that leads to the “Oxenford” message on page 139 of Love’s Labour’s Lost.

 

Lady Rosaline’s lines also include the word “man.” In Latin, the word for “man” is vir, and vir is an obvious pun on the name de Vere. The French word for “man” is hommeHomme is a homonym of the English word “home,” and the French word for “home” is maison, a pun on the English word “mason.” So, the word trail of “man” (L., vir), homme, “home,” maison, “mason” allude to Freemasonry and imply that Edward de Vere and Shakespeare’s First Folio of 1623 are somehow linked to the Freemasons and Rosicrucians.

The word “recount” in Lady Rosaline’s lines is an obvious clue to count the words at the top of the left-hand column of page 139 to find the message “Oxenford.” “Recount” means “[t]o tell; narrate; to relate in detail; (dated) [t]o rehearse; to enumerate.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/recount.  (The word “tell” ([f]rom Middle English tellen (“to count, tell”)) can mean (transitive, archaic outside of idioms) [t]o determine the number, amount, or value of [something].” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/tellen#Middle_English) In addition, the word “count” can be translated into French as comte, meaning “count, earl,” which would refer to the Earl of Oxford. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/comte#Old_French

To “recount” might also allude to the idea of a mémoire:

memoir (n.)

early 15c., "written record," from Anglo-French memorie "note, memorandum, something written to be kept in mind" (early 15c., Old French memoire), from Latin memoria...

https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=m%C3%A9moire

The Latin root of memoir is memor. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/memor. The first two letters of memor are “me,” which when reversed are [L.,] em, meaning “(of wonder or emphasis) here is, see!; this is why” (synonym ecce: see!, look!, behold!, points out something with emphasis”). https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/em; https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ecce#Latin. Therefore, if this linkage is appropriate, there is an allusion to “See-mor” (i.e., the name Seymour, as in Thomas Seymour, 1st Baron Seymour of Sudeley, Lord High Admiral). We have proposed that Thomas Seymour and Princess Elizabeth Tudor (later Queen Elizabeth I) were Edward de Vere’s real parents.

The word “purpose” also appears in Lady Rosaline’s lines. The French word for “purpose” is but.  The Latin word for the English word “but” is verum, which is another pun on the name de Vere. The word “propose” can be traced to Old French word proposer, which means “to propose (offer); to place on top of.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/proposer#Old_French. This is a clue that the puzzle is placed on top of the left-hand column of page 139 of Love’s Labour’s Lost. The Latin root of “purpose” is propono, which means “to set forth, to put forth, to lay out; to expose to view, display; to make known; to propose; (Ecclesiastical Latin) to designate.” Alexander Waugh posited that Edward de Vere was the “Fourth T,” so “to set forth” may allude to this idea. See Alexander Waugh. (2022, January 28). The incalculable genius of John Dee [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-PWR7-0Hp4.


There is also a hint in the text to begin counting words at the top left-hand column of page 139. The hint is at the bottom of page 138.  At the very end of page 138, after a long exchange between the men and women, these lines appear:

 

Ber. One word in secret.
Qu. Let it not be sweet.
Ber. Thou greeu'st my gall.

 

Love’s Labor’s Lost (Folio 1, 1623) :: Internet Shakespeare Editions. (2019, January 11). https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/LLL_F1/complete/index.html

 

After this, the first line of page 139, which starts the word count that solves the puzzle, is:

 

Qu. Gall, bitter.

 

The hint to start counting words at the top of page 139 is the word “greev’st.” The English word "grieve," meaning "[t]o cause sorrow or distress to", is the plain meaning; however, a homonym of "grieve" is "greeve."  The English word “greeve” means “a reeve; steward,” and is derived from “Middle English gryve, grayve, from Old Norse greifi (“a count, earl, steward”), akin to Swedish and Danish greve (“a count, earl”), Old English ġerēfa (“reeve”).” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/greeve. Therefore, the line “Thou greev’st my gall” is witty wordplay that conveys this hidden meaning:

 

"You [count] my [word] gall." 

 

Or, with some editorial fill-in-the-blanks: 

 

“You [must] count [beginning with the word] ‘gall’ [at the top left-hand column of page 139 to find the earl (of Oxford)].” 


The word “gall” is also a reference to one of the four humors in humorism (the humoral theory, or humoralism), which was "a system of medicine detailing a supposed makeup and workings of the human body, adopted by Ancient Greek and Roman physicians and philosophers." According to humoral theory-- 


Yellow bile was associated with a choleric nature (ambitious, decisive, aggressive, and short-tempered). It was thought to be fluid found within the gallbladder, or in excretions such as vomit and feces. The associated qualities for yellow bile are hot and dry with the natural association of summer and fire. It was believed that an excess of this humor in an individual would result in emotional irregularities such as increased anger or irrational behaviour.
 

 

The concept of yellow bile (gall) causing anger leads to the now obsolete French word colere ((before approximately 1780) obsolete form of colère), meaning “anger, rage.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/col%C3%A8re#French.  The French word colere is a homograph of the Italian and Latin word colereColo, the Latin root of colere, can mean “to frequent, be the guardian of, cherish, care for, protect, nurture; (figuratively) to worship, honor, revere, reverence, respect.” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/colo#Latin. (The Latin verb for “to adore, worship” is adoro, adorare (and a partial pun on the name Tudor). https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/adoro.) The word “revere” is an obvious pun on the name de Vere, and the Latin word for “guardian; protector” is tutor, which is a pun on the name Tudor. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/tutor.

Regarding the word “bitter” (in “Gall, bitter”), the word can be divided into two words: “bit” and “her.” (Phonologically a 't' can sound like an 'h' or similar aspiration through processes like aspiration and debuccalization, where the closure of the tongue is lost, leaving only a glottal fricative sound (h). This frequently occurs in English at the end of words or in specific dialects.) 
 
In French, the word for “bit” (i.e., the mouthpiece of a horse's bridle) is mors. https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/mors. The French word for “her” (i.e., his, her, its, their, one's (when referring to a plural noun)) is ses (pronounced like the English word “sea”). https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ses. In addition, the French word son can mean “(possessive) his, her, their, its (used to qualify masculine nouns and before a vowel).” https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/son. Putting these results together, the word “bitter” can be transformed into the hidden message: “ses-mors son” or “Seymour’s son.”

Considering the line “Gall, bitter” in its entirety, the wordplay from the line results in “G” (for God), “all” (a pun on “every” and the name E. Vere), “gall” (which leads to [L.] colere, meaning “guardian, tutor” (a pun on the name Tudor), and “bitter” (“bit” ([F.] mors) and “her” ([F.] ses, son)), which results in wordplay leading to the message “Seymour’s son.” Therefore, the words “Gall, bitter,” which begin the numerical puzzle at the top of page 139 that results in “Oxenford,” is in fact wordplay for “God and de Vere,” the name Tudor, and the message “Seymour’s son,” so all the elements of Edward de Vere’s true identity are encoded.


Drawing Some Circles:

The word “cant” (discussed above) can also imply something bordering on the edge of a circle:

cant (n.2)

* * *
Perhaps [cant] comes via Old North French cant "corner" (itself perhaps via Middle Low German kante or Middle Dutch kant), from Vulgar Latin *canthus, from Latin cantus "iron tire of a wheel," which is possibly from a Celtic word meaning "rim of wheel, edge, brim" (compare Welsh cant "bordering of a circle, tire, edge," Breton cant "circle").
 

Therefore, the word “cant” suggests that we can draw some circles to point out the puzzle.
 
Please note that all the circles shown in the following images are each of a set radius, so we are not manipulating the radius of any circle to achieve a result.  The discovery of these circles are shown in this post:  
 

To keep things consistent, the size and coloring of each circle shown in the images below are the same as that shown in the post above. 

 

On page 139 the word “Roses” appears three times.  In a simple cipher of the alphabet, the letter “C” is the third letter (C = 3).  There for the three appearances of the word “Roses” appears to represent the “Rose Cross,” or “R.C.,” which is the symbol of the Rosicrucians.

In addition, the word “Roes” appears (a "roe" is a type of deer).  The word “Roes” is the word “Rose” hidden in a combined homophone and anagram.  Alexander Waugh has posited that Edward de Vere was associated with the hidden fourth “T” in the Triple Tau cross.  The appearance of the hidden “Rose/Roes” seems to again point at Edward de Vere.

The first image below shows a circle drawn from the first appearance of the word “Roses,” with a second circle drawn from the “hidden” word “Roes.”  The circles intersect or cross at the line “Take all and weane it, it may proue an Oxe.”  This is the final line in the puzzle solved in this post.

As seen in the image, the circles that have been drawn intersect at the words "weane it."  The word "ween" (a homophone of "wean") can mean "(archaic) [t]o suppose, imagine; to think, believe," "[f]rom Middle English wenen, from Old English wēnan."  https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ween.  
 
Although not etymologically related to "ween," the Latin word reor has essentially the same meaning.  Reor means "to reckon, calculateto think, consider, deem, judge, believe, suppose, suspect, imagine."  https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/reor.  Wiktionary provides the following etymology:
 
From Proto-Italic *rēōr, from Proto-Indo-European *h₂reh₁- (to think), reanalysed root of *h₂er- (to put together), in which case it would be cognate with Ancient Greek ἀριθμός (arithmós, a number), Classical Latin ars (art)...
 
Id. (footnote omitted).
 
The Latin word reor is also wordplay on the name Tudor. The prefix re- means "again; once more" (i.e., to do something twice, or two times).  https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/re-.  In heraldry, the word meaning "of gold; golden" is d'or  (from French, from de (of) + or (gold)). Wiktionary provides the following usage note for the word:
 
"The usual term is or, but as this is spelled the same as the conjunction or, the French form d'or is sometimes used to reduce ambiguity."
 

Therefore, based on the meaning of the prefix re- and usage note for the heraldic word d'or, the Latin word reor is wordplay on the name Tudor (two-d'or).
 
The proposed Greek cognate of "ween," ἀριθμός, can mean "number; amount, sum; term in a series; number, account, rank"; "numbered or countable item (in a series or list), item; piece (of a wrecked ship); mere entity, cipher (to a person)"; "numbering, counting..."  https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E1%BC%80%CF%81%CE%B9%CE%B8%CE%BC%CF%8C%CF%82#Ancient_Greek 
 
The proposed Latin cognate of "ween," ars, can mean "skill in joining something, combining, working it, etc."  https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0059:entry=arshttps://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ars#Latin

The meaning of words "ween," [L.] reor, [Gk.] ἀριθμός, and [L.] ars are clues to the process of counting the words in the text at the top left-hand column of page 139 and combining the words "Oxe-an-affoord" to find the message "Oxenford" (Oxford).

 

 


 

 
The image below shows a circle drawn from the “hidden” word “Roes” on page 139 and a circle drawn from the word “crosse” on page 138 (Rose Cross).  The circles intersect at the lines on page 139 where there is wordplay about “Veale,” “Lord Calfe,” and an “Oxe.” This is probably the most significant part of the puzzle. I do not believe these intersections are random. I think they were intentionally arranged.

 

The two images below show a circle drawn from the line beginning the puzzle, which mentions changing "a word," a circle drawn from the word "Oxe," and a circle drawn a line mentioning "one word."
 
The circle drawn from the word "Oxe" intersects the word "affoord." I thing the other circles intersect the word "affoord" because they mark the beginning and end of the puzzle. (There also seems to be some significance to "one word." Perhaps this is to emphasize the significance of the one word solution -- Oxford.)

  


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