The time hath been

Would you have been so brief with him, he would

Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,

For taking so the head, your whole head’s length.

-Duke of York

King Richard II              Act III, scene iii, line 11

Bolingbroke is back in England and marching with an army to reclaim what is his. They’ve come to the castle where King Richard is sequestered. The Duke of York is with Bolingbroke, but he is faithful to Richard. Remember now, that York is the brother to Bolingbroke’s father and to Richard’s father. So whilst he has an equally familial allegiance to both of them, he is on the side of Richard as being the rightful King of England, since Richard is the son of the oldest brother of all the sons of Edward III. 

With today’s lines York is letting Northumberland know that he’d better be more respectful and refer to King Richard as King Richard, not just Richard, as he did in a previous line. Northumberland claims that he was just being ‘brief’, not disrespectful, when referring to the king as simply Richard. This is what York is responding to with today’s lines, and he’s picking up on the word ‘brief’ that Northumberland used.   

Perhaps I could have been more brief with that explanation?

Here is a pic of four of my nephews (there's a couple of other ones, but I couldn't find a pic of all of them). Now, since Micael is the son of the oldest of my siblings, he would be the king. But what if Caleb, or Will, or John decided that they wanted the job. Well now, they're all sons of my brothers, so which one do I stand with? Would it be Michael because he's the son of the oldest brother? Then do I throw these other guys under the bus? I wouldn't want to be in the Duke of York's shoes.

 

 

In winter’s tedious nights sit by the fire

With good old folks and let them tell thee tales

Of woeful ages long ago betid;

-Richard

King Richard II              Act V, scene i, line 41

Betid: that's a funny word, isn't it? It just means 'happened', past tense of betide. Tell them tales of woeful ages that happened long ago. 

This is part of a longer response that Richard gives to his queen when she asks Richard if he is both in shape and mind transform’d and weaken’d? Bolingbroke has deposed him, and Richard is on the way to the Tower. ‘Aren’t you at least going to go down roaring like the lion that you are?’, she asks him.

Here is his full response to that:

        A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts,

        I had been still a happy king of men.

        Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France:

        Think I am dead and that even here thou takest,

        As from my death-bed, they last living leave.

        In winter’s tedious nights sit by the fire

With good old folks and let them tell thee tales

Of woeful ages long ago betid;

And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs,

Tell thou the lamentable tale of me

And send the hearers weeping to their beds:

        For why, the senseless brands will sympathize

        The heavy accent of thy moving tongue

        And in compassion weep the fire out;

        And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,

        For the deposing of a rightful king.

 

Yah, stick a fork in him; he’s pretty much done.

Going with the State Fair theme one more day, I can tell you that these foot-longs are pretty much done too. No need for a fork, though. 

 

Bootless is flight,--they follow us with wings;

And weak are we, and  cannot shun pursuit.

-Edward

King Henry the Sixth Part III       Act II, scene iii, line 18

A few program notes: First off, we took a break for a quick trip out to MN for the State Fair. So I haven’t been looking at any of Will’s words since Wednesday. No, I couldn’t find much trace of Will at the Minnesota State Fair. Secondly, I’ve decided, for today at least, to take a break from Merchant. I’ll probably get back to that one soon, but for today, here we are in the thick of battle with the players of Henry VI, Part III.

Okay then. Bootless: this word is in the current MW online. I’m familiar with it mostly from The Tempest where Miranda talks about a ‘bootless inquisition’, so that I know it means useless. It’s a good word and I use it; though I’m not sure people know what I mean when I do. Flight is useless.  

Anyway, I skipped forward to do some reading in the next scene this morning, where we’re still in the middle of the same battle. In the next scene we have Henry, alone, talking about the how miserable it is to be king and what a good life the homely swain (country youth) has.

        And to conclude,--the shepherd’s homely curds,

His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle,

His wonted sleep under a fresh tree’s shade,

All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,

Is far beyond a prince’s delicates,

His viands sparkling in a golden cup,

His body crouched in a curious bed,

When care, mistrust, and reason waits on him.

Can you believe it? What does Will bring up first when he wants to compare the good, simple life of a shepherd with the misery of being king? Curds! Will is talking about curds, and the fact that they're better than anything a king gets! Curds!

These two Minnesotans live for their annual taste of Cheese Curds! I didn't think I'd found much trace of Will at the Fair, but apparently I did; without knowing it.

Curds!

 

There I have another bad match: a bankrout, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto;-a beggar, that was used to come so smug upon the mart;-let him look to his bond; he was wont to call me usurer;-let him look to his bond: he was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy:-let him look to his bond.

-Shylock

The Merchant of Venice                Act III, scene i, line 45

Shylock is talking about Antonio here. He has met Sal one and two on the street, and first they are talking about Shylock’s daughter, Jessica, and then Salarino asks him if he’s had any news of Antonio’s ships at sea. Today’s Totally Random Line(s) is Shylock’s reply to that, talking about Antonio.

The Rialto is kind of like the main square of Venice where everyone comes to conduct business. When Shylock talks of Antonio’s bond, he’s talking about the contract that he signed when he borrowed the three thousand ducats; the contract that gives Shylock a pound of flesh if Antonio defaults. He seems to be pretty focused on that bond, eh?

 

How like a younker or a prodigal

The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,

Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind!

How like a prodigal does she return,

With over-weather’d ribs, and ragged sails,

Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!

-Gratiano

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene v, line 71

Gratiano and Salarino are waiting for Lorenzo outside Shylock’s house. They begin by talking about how he’s late, and that he shouldn’t be because lovers ever run before the clock. They are meeting at Shylock’s house because Lorenzo is picking up Jessica.

Gratiano and Salarino get into a discussion about how new lovers are eager to be with each other. This then leads into talk about different scenarios where people or things are eager when going into any new endeavor, and something less than eager on the other end of it. Hence, in Today’s Totally Random Line a well trimmed sailboat, a scarfed bark, leaves the bay embraced by the strumpet wind. She returns after being at sea lean, rent and beggar’d by the strumpet wind: eager at the start, something less than eager at the return.   

I suppose we can apply this line of thinking to just about anything in life.

And here's a perfect example of just such a scenario. This is a graph of my weight since I started a new eating plan in early May. You can see that I dropped about ten pounds in the first weeks. However, since late June/early July I haven't gone any further; just up and down since then. 

What happened to the scarfed bark embraced by the strumpet wind?

 

You may do so;-but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the furthest by five of the clock. See these letters deliver’d; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.      [Exit a SERVANT]

-Bassiano

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene ii, line 113

 

This is the scene where Launcelot Gobo is talking to himself and then to his father. The line previous to Today’s Totally Random Line is just that, Launcelot Gobo talking to old Gobo. Then, suddenly, Bassanio enters with Leonardo and a follower or two. Apparently one of the followers is a servant that Bassanio is in the middle of a conversation with as he enters the scene, and the lines above are the first spoken by Bassanio as he enters. I don’t know about you, but I’m a little curious as to what the servant asked permission to do. It must have been something since Bassanio enters the scene saying, ‘yes, you can do that, but make it quick so that you can take care of all my stuff.’ So what did the servant want to do? We’re never going to know, are we?

This reminds me of when I’m at a stoplight and I look over at a person standing and waiting for the bus. I look at them and realize that they have their own little world that they live in, just as I have mine, and that I will never know anything about that world. Are they thinking about the war in Ukraine, or about their Aunt Ethel who’s in the hospital. Or maybe they’re thinking about the underpants they’re wearing that are riding up on them. Whatever it is, it’s a continuum of a thousand thoughts that make up their world. And there are billions of these little worlds out there. So many of them I pass within a few feet of every day and never, ever give it a thought. But sometimes I do.

Will seems to be reminding us of these worlds right here. He’s going to give us this very little reminder of something very big, and then he’ll just move on. The servant exits and there’s never any mention further in the play of what he wanted to do. But even though we’ll never know what it was, and even though it really has nothing to do with any of the people or outcomes of the play, it must have been something.

How about this fellow entering the building just now. What's on his mind? What's his world all about? Aren't you just a little bit curious? I am. 

 

For three months, - well.

-Shylock

The Merchant of Venice                Act I, scene iii, line 3

 

Here is our first look at Shylock, at the beginning of scene three. His first words, and the first words of the scene are, Three thousand ducats, - well. Bassanio says, Ay, sir, for three months. Shylock repeats him again with today’s Random Line (even though we didn’t hear Bassanio say three thousand ducats we can be pretty sure he did), then Bassanio says Antonio will be bound for it, and Shylock repeats him a third time. So Shylock’s first three lines in the play are parroting back what Bassanio said to him.

Isn't that interesting. Shylock, who is supposed to be the lender is, at the very outset, the borrower: borrowing his lines from Bassanio. Is Will giving us a cue right up front to suggest that Shylock may not be what we are going to assume him to be? 

He be, or not he be? You tell me.

Today's post is much too thought provoking for a picture. 

Just concentrate on the words.

 

It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him.

-Launcelot Gobo

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene ii, line 142

 

This is an odd little scene. It begins with Launcelot deciding whether or not to leave the service of Shylock. It ends with him making the decision to leave and entering into the service of Bassanio. In between, Launcelot’s father shows up and, being half blind, doesn’t realize initially that he’s talking to his son. But he finally realizes it and remarks that his son has more hair on his chin than his horse Dobbin has on its tail. I’m not 100% sure what Launcelot means with his response in Today’s Totally Random Line. I guess he’s just remarking on the shortness of his own beard.

I’m also not exactly sure what the old man Gobo scene adds, other than the opportunity for a little bit of comic interlude, but I guess that’s important. This is a comedy, after all. Let’s not forget that.

Talk about long tails, now that's impressive!

 

Besides, the lottery of my destiny

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:

-Portia

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene i, line 15

 

This is another piece of this play that bugs me. Portia’s father died, and apparently he had quite the estate and his daughter appears to be his sole survivor. He’s left instructions that whatever suitor can come and pick the correct of three caskets (small boxes) they will win the hand of his daughter. His daughter has no say in the matter. This is what Portia is making reference to in today’s Totally Random Line. What the heck kind of nonsense is this?

Perhaps the old man left someone in charge to enforce this deal, but if he did, I haven’t seen mention of him. It looks like Portia is just going along with it. Now I can see honoring one’s father’s wishes, but this seems a bit much.

And this gamble is the premise that Bassanio borrowed the three thousand ducats on; the premise for which Antonio’s life is on the line. In a sense, the whole play revolves around this silly casket choice. Well that’s just crazy.

Is this like Portia's caskets? Actually, hers were metal...

...and I don't think any of hers had a chess set inside. So, no, I don't think this is like any of Portia's caskets.

 

                              It is almost morning,

And yet I am sure you are not satisfied

Of these events at full. Let us go in;

And charge us there upon inter’gatories,

And we will answer all things faithfully.

 

-Portia

The Merchant of Venice                Act V, scene i, line 297

 

This is the second to last lines of the play. Gratiano is given the honor of following with the last eight lines of the play.

What’s that you say? You want those lines too? I don’t blame you.

         Let it be so: the first inter’gatory

        That Nerissa may be sworn on is,

        Whether till the next night she had rather stay,

        Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:

        But were the day come, I should wish it dark,

That I were couching with the doctor’s clerk.

Well, while I live I’ll fear no other thing,

So sore as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring.

End act, scene, play. Finito.

It’s supposed to be a light hearted play, a comedy, and this ending goes with that. No one dies, Antonio is saved in the end, and the guys get their girls. Sure, one old miserly Jew is completely ruined, but we’re not going to let that spoil the mood, are we?

Are we?

I think I’ve mentioned before that the only time I’ve seen this play performed live, the final person on stage was Shylock. Gratiano still got the final lines, but after he spoke the stage lights faded and then a spotlight shown on Shylock, sitting in the dark. I remember his face as he looked out at the audience. He wasn’t mad or ruined; it seemed more to be a look that said, ‘Are you happy now? Are you okay feeling good about the play even though I got completely destroyed?’ It was very thought provoking and, in my opinion, a very good way to end the play, maintaining some respect for modern sensibilities. I’m sure there are those who would disagree; but aren’t there always.

'Holy crow, what does that picture got to do with anything?' I can hear you say. Well, a little maybe.

Here's me and my oldest nephew Matt. Good guy, that Matt. And Matt's brother Michael did the lighting work for the live production of Merchant that I was just talking about. In fact, I guess it was Michael who came up with the spotlight on Shylock in the dark? So I guess your next question is 'Why not a pic of Michael?' Another good question. The answer is that yesterday was Matt's birthday. 

Happy one-day-late birthday, Matt!

 

                              Why look how you storm!

I would be friends with you, and have your love,

Forget the shames that you have stain’d me with,

Supply your present wants and take no doit

Of usance for my monies,

And you’ll not hear me: this is kind I offer.

 

-Shylock

The Merchant of Venice                Act I, scene iii, line 45

 

I’m going to maintain that skipping around like this, whether within one play or through all Will’s works, has the advantage of having any and every possible line highlighted, where it might otherwise be skipped over. And that’s a good thing. But to today’s line…

Shylock had been saying previously that Antonio has in the past been very mean to him, spit on him and treated him like a dog. And for these courtesies/I’ll lend you thus much monies’? he asks of Antonio. Antonio’s reply is an interesting one.

         I am as like to call thee so again,

        To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.

        If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not

        As to thy friends— for when did friendship take

        A breed for barren metal of his friend?—

        But lend it rather to thine enemy;

        Who if he break, thou mayst with better face

        Exact the penalty.

 

For when did friendship… Antonio’s saying when did friendship ever increase based on the money of a friend?

Who if he break… who if he goes bankrupt.

This is the storming that Shylock is referring to, and responding to, with today’s Totally Random Lines.

Now, there’s a lot here, and I gave you quite a bit to read, but I think this is a really important piece of the play. Shylock has justly accused Antonio of being really rotten to him, of spitting on him and treating him like a dog. Even with all that he’s saying that he would be willing to be friends with Antonio. He’d be willing to take no doit of usance – take not a penny of interest for the loan. We can argue as to whether or not this is a sincere offer, but either way Antonio has already made it very clear that he wants absolutely nothing to do with Shylock on a personal basis; he only wants the money loaned on a purely business-based relationship. At this point Shylock offers, and Antonio accepts, the pound of flesh deal.

So, who’s the bad guy? You tell me.

No doit of usance..

 

Not one red cent.

 

Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

 -Portia

The Merchant of Venice                Act III, scene ii, line 290

 

Day five of Merchant; And for the third day in a row, we’re on the same scene; in fact, the same part of the same scene (I didn't post to the blog yesterday, but the line I read was from this scene). Today we have Portia asking Bassanio if the person in trouble is his dear friend Antonio. Yes, it is; and he is perhaps dearer than you could imagine.

It's widely, albeit not universally, held that Antonio and Bassanio were gay, or at least bisexual, lovers. This is one reason posited for why Antonio is so sad at the beginning of the play. He’s sad because he knows that Bassanio will be leaving him to pursue Portia. So, when Portia refers to Bassanio’s dear friend, it begs the question of whether or not she knows just how dear a friend he is.

What do you think?

And just when I thought there was no way I had any pics relevant to two gay friends, I find this one. How about that!

 

 

I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost!

-Solanio

The Merchant of Venice                Act III, scene ii, line 241

 

Day three of Merchant.

We are in Belmont, and earlier in this scene Bassiano picked the correct casket and has won Portia’s hand. Now, Solanio has just arrived from Venice, and Gratiano is asking for news of Antoino.

                How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?             

                I know he will be glad of our success;

                We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

To which Solanio replies with today’s semi-random line. Of course, the news he brings in a letter, which Bassanio and Gratiano have not yet read, is that Antonio has defaulted on the debt and is going to have to give a pound of flesh to Shylock. So it’s not particularly good news, is it.

Both Solanio and Gratiano are making reference to Jason and the Golden Fleece, a story from Greek mythology in case you’re not familiar with it. Jason and his crew go on a quest to bring back the Golden Fleece which was considered a great treasure. After many adventures, they succeed. Gratiano is comparing Bassanio and himself to Jason and his men. Solanio is talking about Antonio when he says the fleece that he hath lost, because Antonio has lost it all.

This poor guy really lost it all - fleece, flesh, you name it. 

 

 

You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,

And spit upon my Jewish gabardine,

And all for use of that which is mine own.

-Shylock

The Merchant of Venice                Act I, scene iii, line 111

 

Day two of semi-random Merchant, and what do we have here. I’ll tell you what we have. We have cut right to the heart of the play. If not the heart as Will intended it, certainly the heart of the play as it is viewed today, and the reason that the play is considered a bit problematic in the twenty-first century.

Bassanio and Antonio have come to Shylock to borrow money, and Shylock is raising the issue of his own Jewishness and how he has been persecuted for it.

Now, do we discuss what’s going on in the play here and what we think Will meant, or do we discuss modern sensibilities and why this line is emblematic of why the play can be difficult to deal with in 2022? Related as they are, these two topics diverge significantly, but  both of them require careful consideration in any modern presentation, interpretation, or retelling of this play. Whilst I'm not going to delve further into it now, I lay this out there for your consideration with the promise that we will be considering this further as we continue our semi-random Merchant journey. 

 

Simon & Garfunkel - America (from The Concert in Central Park) - YouTube

 No pic today, just a song. I picked it because it has the word gaberdine in it and this is the only time I've ever run into that word other than here in Merchant. But it's also a great song.

 

 8/8/22

 

 

But little: I am arm’d and well prepared.

-Antonio

The Merchant of Venice                Act IV, scene i, line 264

 

You merchant, have you anyhing to say? This is what Portia asks Antonio as she is about to let Shylock loose to collect his pound of flesh. Today’s Totally Random Line is Antonio’s answer. I guess that by arm’d he means ready to accept his fate, not arm’d in that he has a weapon. He has no weapon. And his reply that he has but little to say seems appropriate. Antonio is the titular Merchant, and yet he really doesn't have all that much to say in this play. Bassanio, Portia, Shylock, heck even Launcelot Gobo seem to have a lot more to say than Antonio. I'm just saying. 

Now, something new: Our Totally Random Line(s) are going to be semi-random for a little while. Let me explain. Bill and I started our second book a while back and it’s a retelling of The Merchant of Venice. We’ve been a bit lax on sticking with it, so in an effort to change that and to get myself to write more, I’m going to restrict my random line picks to Merchant for the next little while. How long? Not sure. As long as it takes, I suppose. I had kicked around the idea of Bill and I taking a trip to Venice to get us going on the project, but I don’t see that happening any time in the near future. So perhaps this is the next best thing to get us going. But, who knows, Venice may still be in the cards. Someday.

Maybe someday, but not today.

 

Merely awry: when he did love his country,

It honour’d him.

-Junius Brutus

Coriolanus                      Act III, scene i, line 304

 

The crowd, led by the two tribunes Sicinius Veletus and Junius Brutus, is calling for the head of Caius Marcius Coriolanus. Menenius Agrippa, the voice of reason, is trying to calm the crowds by telling them that Coriolanus fought and bled to defend Rome and that if he were now to be killed by Romans it would be a mark of dishonour against Rome that would last to the end of the world. Sicinius says that’s absolutely wrong, and Junius follows him up with Today’s Totally Random Line.

I guess I now realize why this play is not taught in high schools: the representation of Sicinius and Junius is so like today’s politicians that it would not be allowed.

Quel dommage.

The summer growth, the patio furniture, and a migrating flamingo have taken over quite a bit of the view outside my cellar office window. Thinking about the state of our nation's politics and realizing that this sorry state hasn't changed in centuries (and probably never will- it's part of the human condition) is a bit depressing. So I'm posting a pic that's got nothing to do with that. Can you blame me?

 

 

It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing:

 

-Costard

Love’s Labour’s Lost            Act I, scene ii, line 155

 

Costard seems to be contradicting himself in this sentence, doesn’t he? He is told he’s going to prison, and he says Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see--. Moth interrupts with What shall some see?, and Costard replies with Today’s Totally Random Line(s).

 

Nay, nothing Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank God I have as little patience as another man; and therefore I can be quiet.

 

So, what exactly is Costard saying? It seems to be a whole lot of contradiction, doesn’t it? Every piece of this seems to be a self-contained contradiction: They won’t see anything but what they see; It’s not for me to say nothing, so I’ll say nothing; I have little patience, so I can exercise patience and be quiet. What the heck?

This whole scene, most of it dominated by Armado and Moth, is a lot of wordplay. Will loves wordplay, especially in his comedies. And this is, of course, a comedy.

So Costard gets led away by Moth to confinement directly after speaking these lines, and Armado finishes the scene talking to himself about the country wench that he is in love with.

But, what’s it all mean Basil? I think that’s up to you.

This is Veronica Roodt. I was going to say that this picture is completely irrelevant, but now that I think about it:

Veronica's mere presence, at the time and place that we met her, seemed to be a contradiction in and of itself. And today's line is all about contradictions, isn't it?

 

[to Gaunt] O thou, the earthly author of my blood,-

Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,

Doth with a twofold vigor lift me up

To reach at victory above my head,-

Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;

And with thy blessings steel my lance’s point,

That it may enter Mowbray’s waxen coat,

And furbish new the name of John o’ Gaunt,

Even in the lusty haviour of his son.

 

 -Henry Bolingbroke

King Richard the Second       Act I, scene iii, line 70

 

This is son addressing father. Bolingbroke is about to fight Mowbray and he’s asking his father, John of Gaunt, … well you can plainly see what he's asking his father.

I really like the first line, the earthly author of my blood. It’s a really interesting use of all three words: earthly, author, and blood, and a way to describe a father that's quite unique.

 

 

We have received your letters full of love;

-Princess

Love’s Labour’s Lost      Act V, Scene ii, Line 770

Yes, that’s right: line 770. It’s a fairly long scene. But it’s the last scene of the play so Will is tying up all the loose ends. Anyway, it’s a nice line to start the month on. We have received your letters full of love. I mean, at least on the surface, without delving into it, it seems like a nice sentiment. Right? I think I’m just going to leave it at that for the first day of the month.

Very random pic today.