Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child,--

[Pointing to the CHILD in the

arms of an ATTENDANT]

Of this was Tamora delivered;

The issue of an irreligious Moor,

Chief architect and plotter of these woes:

The villain is alive in Titus’s house,

Damn’d as he is, to witness this is true.

 

Marcus Andronicus

Titus Andronicus             Act V, Scene iii, Line 121

Well, it’s a fairly long sentence, that’s for sure; nothing new about that. This is from the last page of the play. It’s line 159 with this final scene ending on line 204.

They decide that Titus’s son (Marcus’s nephew) Lucius will be the new emperor. Pretty much everyone else who wasn’t already dead got killed earlier in this scene: Titus, Saturninus, Tamora, Lavinia…who did I miss? They will also decide, momentarily, to bury Aaron up to his neck so that he can starve, and to throw Tamora’s body to the carrion fowl. And then the play ends with a rhyming couplet,

Then, afterwards, to order well the state,

That like events may ne’er it ruinate.

Try as I might to not think about (and I do try very hard), these last two lines got me to considering our current political situation. Do you think we’ll ever get to the end of this nightmare that our state now endures? And if we do, will we put in place safeguards That like events may ne’er it ruinate?

God, I hope so.

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

I write good creature; wheresoe’er she is,

Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do  her

A shrewd turn, if she pleased.

 

How do you mean?

Widow/Helena

All’s Well That Ends Well      Act III, Scene v, Line 69

The first three and a half lines are the Widow’s and the last half line is Helena’s. They’re talking about Helena’s predicament with Bertram, though the widow doesn’t realize that it’s Helena she is speaking with. As such, she’s being blunt, forthright, straight, and plain-spoken, because she has no reason to be otherwise. In other words, she’s being round with Helena.

I hope you realize the I used yesterday’s word today.

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Pray you, be round with him.

Polonius

Hamlet                       Act III, Scene iv, Line 5

Blunt, forthright, straight, and plain-spoken: those are the meanings given for round in my on-line Shakespeare Glossary. This is Polonius talking to Gertrude. She’s called Hamlet to her room to question him about his odd behavior, and Polonius is about to hide behind the curtain to listen in on the conversation. But first he’s got to give Gertrude some advice, of course. I say of course because giving advice is Polonius’s main occupation.

Sometimes I feel like I’m married to Polonius, because I’m constantly getting advice on what to do and how to do it, especially when I’m driving. Oh well.

It's a good thing I don't do that to you, isn't  it, Mr. Blagys. 

Now, can you come over here and sit with me and rub my belly?

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Base slave, thy words are blunt, and so art thou.

Duke of Suffolk

King Henry the Sixth Part II     Act IV, Scene i, Line 69

 

Today is Labor Day, 2026, and since that is a celebration of the worker, I think that I will take off on the word slave in Today’s Line. After all, who is a harder worker than a slave?

Nowadays, here in the United States, in the world of 2026, the word slave has been under attack. I use the phrase under attack very purposefully. Words are important, and the proper use of words is important. In the case of the word slave, this word has been used historically to refer to pretty much any human being who has been enslaved by another human being. By enslaved, we mean that they have been subjugated and controlled by another human being and forced to do whatever this subjugator wanted them too. This has usually meant work, and lots of it. By historically, I mean to say the word slave has been used to refer to enslaved people for thousands of years.

Now, sometime in recent years, someone decided that the word slave was demeaning. Well, it is. They decided that slaves were people and should be recognized as such, and so they decreed that it would be good if we referred to them as enslaved people. In fact, they decided that it was so important that we do this, that we should not ever use the word slave; we should use the words enslaved person.

So, what do we gain by this. Well, on the one hand we give the folks in this country who are the descendants of slaves/enslaved people some consideration, or so they say (I am reminded of the time several years ago when I asked my daughter-in-law, who was born and bred in China if she found the word Oriental offensive; she asked me what I was talking about). On another hand we give many people, like myself, pause: the pause that comes when we stop to think about something to try to figure out what it means, and if it makes sense or not. Finally, on another hand we give some folks on the far-right of the political spectrum more fodder for their rants against the woke left, and that's the last thing they need.

Make no mistake, replacing the word slave with the words enslaved person is well intentioned. I can understand and sympathize with the intent. I think, though, that when we go so far as to trying to eradicate the word slave, and by extension the word master, well, I’m not sure we’re doing much good. If in conversation I say “I’ve always been a slave to my emotions”, do I need to be apologetic? If I refer to my bedroom as the master bedroom, am I wrong?

I don’t think I ever said to an apparent descendant of an American slave or ex-slave, “Hey Michelle, were your descendants slaves?” Why would I ever say that? Conversely, if for whatever strange reason I were to bring it up to Michelle, I probably would use the words enslaved people. But by the same token, I am not going to be eradicating any words from my vocabulary any time soon.

Well, I guess this has become a rant, and that’s the last thing I wanted it to be. I think I simply wanted to say that that sometimes when we attempt to show consideration for people by policing our language, we end up weaponizing that language more. And that’s not a good thing.

Yeah, I think that’s all I wanted to say; that, and Happy Labor Day.

Speaking of eradicating words: I'm pretty sure this guy eradicated the word labor from his vocabulary a long time ago (as if it was ever there to begin with). 

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

ACT I.     SCENE I. 

A ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and                                         lightning heard.

Enter a SHIP-MASTER and a BOATSWAIN.

 

SHIP-MASTER

BOATSWAIN!

 

This is a little bit different setup for this morning’s post since it’s the first line of The Tempest. Well, it’s not just the first line of speech, it’s the first lines at the beginning of the script. We know it’s the beginning by noting that it’s the first scene of the first act, and it then tells us what’s going on before the Ship-master gives us the first actual spoken line of the play: BOATSWAIN! Yes, it’s all in caps.

We have to wonder just how they managed to stage the ship at sea, and the tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning, but apparently they did. This is not one of those things that took place off-stage and was then related to the audience by one of the actors. This is a ship, at sea, in a storm, on the stage, in the year 1610, or thereabouts. Interesting to think about, isn’t it?

Here is a pic of the relatively calm South Pacific Ocean a few hundred miles south of New Zealand, from a ship, in the sea. No tempestuous noise of lightning and thunder on this trip. Thank God!

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

                                 I will hear that play;

For never anything can be amiss,

When simpleness and duty tender it.

 

Theseus

A Midsummer Night’s Dream  Act V, Scene i, Line 35

 

Well, do we think that this is a truism?

For never anything can be amiss,

When simpleness and duty tender it?

My online Shakespeare glossary doesn’t have anything unusual for the word tender: it just means look after, or care for. Simpleness and duty; that’s all you need. Interesting. Simpleness and duty. Nowadays we would probably use the word simplicity; but it’s all the same.

To add a little context, Thesus is reacting to being told that a play has been prepared for him by

Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here,

Which never labour’d in their minds till now;

And now have toil’d their unbreathed memories

With this same play…

Well this is interesting too, isn’t it? They’ve never before labour’d in their minds (that squares with the simpleness), but now have toil’d their unbreathed memories. Again, toil’d their unbreathed memories? I gotta think about that one. Never labour’d in their minds is easy, but toil’d their unbreathed memories? That’s one of the things I love about Will: sometimes he comes up with this stuff that I really have to think about.

Toil’d their unbreathed memories. They’ve used memories that they’ve never used, or had, before? Does that make sense? If so, what is he saying. Okay, this just got more interesting. He’s talking about laborers, bricklayers and the such (there’s the duty part) who will be putting on this play. These are guys who’ve never acted before; like me.

That’s right, this past weekend I was part of the production Twelfth Night presented here in Cheshire. I’d never acted in a play before (there are those who would argue that I still haven’t acted, but we’ll leave that alone for now). So, did I use memories that I never used before? Maybe? Utilized memories that I’ve never used before. Hmmm. I might have to spend the day thinking about this. Or perhaps I could get my new group of friends in the Cheshire Town Players to respond to this. Perhaps it means something to them.

Toil’d their unbreathed memories.

Anyone?

You know what they say: 

"If you didn't get a picture, it didn't happen." 

Well, here's the picture: It's me presenting my prisoner, Antonio the noble pirate (with no sea cap on his head), to Duke Orsino and Cesario/Viola.

So, am I toiling my unbreathed memories? You tell me.

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer:

Th’Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,

With all their sixty, fly and turn rudder:

To see’t mine eyes are blasted

Domitius Enobarbus

Antony and Cleopatra           Act III, Scene x, Line 1

There are a lot of battles in this play, many (if not most) of them are sea battles. Whilst Christopher Nolan, if he were to take on this story, could stage (well, not on a stage, but on a screen) all the battles in all their glory, sixteenth century theater production companies could not. The alternative is to have people talk about and describe the battles. And that’s what we have here.

Need I say more?

Speaking of battles, it's always a bit of a battle grooming this guy; and he manages to ham it up quite well. You'd think he was having his ear cut off, or perhaps that he were having his eyes blasted by seeing 

Th'Antonoid, the Egyptian admiral,

With all their sixty, fly and turn rudder: 

Trust me: neither of these is the case. 

This guy definitely belongs in pictures.