Saturday, September 24, 2016




That’s all I reck.
I fear ‘twill be revenged:

-Guiderius/Belarius      

Cymbeline                          Act IV, scene ii   Line 154

This is another of those split lines, the first part from Guiderius and the second part from Belarius. And as a point of context, they’re talking about what Guiderius is going to do with the severed head of Cloten that he’s holding. Yes, that’s right, Guiderius starts this page with Cloten’s severed head in his hand. I’m thinking they must have gone through quite a few of those severed head props over the years. And beyond that I’m beginning to wonder just what’s going on here. This is post number forty-five and we have literally had a severed head in four of the scenes we’ve posted on so far. That’s pushing up towards ten percent. Now I’m pretty sure that there’s not a severed head in ten percent of Shakespeare’s scenes. In fact, I’m almost positive, but what the heck? If we randomly sampled forty-five lines from the works of Stephen King I don’t think we’d end up with four severed heads. I’m not sure we’d end up with any. And when we started this project would any of you have guessed that Shakespeare was teeming with severed heads? I wouldn’t have. But I guess I’ll move on for today. Rest assured though, you haven’t heard the last of me on the severed head thing.

So Guiderius has just finished telling Belarius, his sort-of half adopted/ half amber-alert father, that he cut off Cloten’s head with Cloten’s own sword and now he’s going to throw Cloten’s head in the creek so it can wash out to sea and Cloten can tell all the fishes that he’s the Queen’s son. And Guiderius finishes with “I reckon, par’dner (That’s all I reck).” So Belarius replies with a fear that the Queen’s not going to be overly happy that her son’s been killed (I fear ‘twill be revenged). Once again you can see that the full combined line is a perfect iambic pentameter line. Hey presto! Severed head and all, Will is not losing his meter!







No comments:

  Today’s Totally Random Lines                  How, my lord! What cheer? How is’t with you, best brother? Polixenes The Winter’s ...