But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?

Montano

 

Othello                                                 Act II, scene i     Line 60

Well for goodness sakes, let’s start with ‘good lieutenant’ because it’s our good friend good Michael Cassio that’s being addressed here as good lieutenant. I think that this is only the second time in about 130 Totally Random lines (I guess I could go back and check them all, but I probably won’t) that we have someone being addressed as ‘good’. And guess what? Both times it’s been good Michael Cassio being addressed! Amazing! And the last time he was being addressed as ‘good’ I got all excited about it. Here’s the post if you don’t believe me. So that’s pretty interesting in and of itself, and it also tells you that this guy is good!

Next we have this word lieutenant. I’m not sure whether or not you’re all aware of it or not, but the Brits pronounce this word Lef-ten-ant, as opposed to Lu-ten-ant. Now I have no idea where they got this Lef-ten-ant thing, but like most Brit-speak, I love it. I think I’ve gotten into this stuff before. Schedule is sshhezule, and scenario is senahhrio, and it goes on and on. Yes, Lef-tenant. 

And finally, wived. Is your lieutenant wived? Who makes a verb out of wife? I guess Will did. I had an English professor when I was getting my MAT about ten years ago who hated when people made verbs out of nouns. I’m not sure what exactly his issue was, but for some reason he just didn’t like it. Well Professor Smart, here’s old Will making a verb out of wife. So I guess you can’t get too wigged out over that.

Now all we’re left with is wondering why Montano is asking good Michael Cassio whether his general is wived. And I'm going to leave it up to you to find the answer to that question.

Yes, believe it or not, even a kook like me can be wived. This is a picture of me and my beautiful wife. Can you, by any chance, guess where we are?

I know vat I have to do. Adieu.

Doctor Caius

The Merry Wives of Windsor                  Act V, scene iii   Line 5

And finally, we’ve got a sample from The Merry Wives Of Windsor. I believe this is the first time we’ve gotten to this work and if I’m not mistaken, the only play now left in my compilation that we’ve not randomly sampled is Julius Caesar. I’ll do some reconnaissance on my random die system just to make sure that numbers 550 to 610 (the corresponding pages in my compilation) are not problematic. I don’t suspect that they are and I’m pretty sure we’ll get to Julius Caesar, as well as back to The Wives, eventually.

Now, The Merry Wives. As I think I mentioned once, this is a play that Will wrote specifically to resurrect the character of Sir John Falstaff. You’ll recall that we’ve twice discussed the scenes in Henry V, here and here that relate to the passing of good Sir John. I’ve also previously mentioned, and reiterate here, that I know very little about this play. And since this is our first foray in, and also because this line is only three pages from the end of the play and I have no idea what’s taken place up to this point, I think we’ll stay in the dark for now and just focus on the line that we have.

This is the first instance I’ve run into where Will is writing the replication of an accent into the script. The ‘vat’ in today’s line is his way of saying how a Frenchman (apparently Dr. Caius is French) would say the word ‘what’. I thought this was what Will was doing but I wasn’t sure, and so I thumbed through the play and can see that the lines of Dr. Caius have these types of spelling throughout. So I think that’s pretty interesting. Vat do you theenk? Will had a healthy sampling of latin and greek, as well as real French in his plays, so he relied on a fairly well educated audience. In this case, however, he’s just working with a bawdy French accent; fairly low brow stuff.

Brief program note: I missed the last two nights due to some health issues. We'll see if we can keep that from happening again. Also, I'm counting this post as Friday, 12/23 post, even though it's now a few hours into Saturday, Christmas Eve. No promises for the next two nights' posts, but we'll try.

And if I don't make it, Merry Christmas!

This is pretty  much the extent of my personal library (I know, pretty messy). I looked all through here for some vestige of the seven years of French that I took, but no luck. And after that seven years, what is the extent of my understanding of French? Well, I understood today's line. And that's pretty  much how I would say it in French. 'I know vat I have to do.'

What is your gracious pleasure?

Seyton

Macbeth                                              Act V, scene iii   Line 29

I’m not sure who this Seyton fellow is, but apparently a lackey of Macbeth. We’re near the end of the play here, just a few pages away from Macduff showing up with Macbeth’s severed head. But for the time being Macbeth’s head is still attached to his shoulders. And the eyes in that head can see that things are starting to unravel, so he calls for his lackey and Seyton comes running asking, with today’s Totally Random line, what his boss wants. All the boss wants is news, but the news tells him that he’s in trouble.

By the way, we’re only one page further on from Lady Macbeth’s line of ten days ago. She was unraveling then, and now the whole thing is coming down on them fast.

Without getting bogged down in the details too much, I thought it might be interesting to look at the name of today’s speaker: Seyton. I couldn’t help but notice that it’s a homonym for Satan. I wonder if that’s a coincidence. It’s not really a major role, but just the same it’s the name of the guy who sticks with Macbeth throughout his devilish reign. Well, something to consider, perhaps oh so briefly.

And one more thing, do you suppose there’s any chance that somewhere along the line, either with the guys putting together the First Folio or even previous to that, someone screwed it up and the line is supposed to read ‘What is your grace’s pleasure?’ It would sound exactly the same when spoken. I don’t know, but that seems to make a little more sense. What do you think?

What do you suppose their pleasure is, gracious or otherwise?

Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back,

I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves

So long as I could see.

Captain

 

Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will         Act I, scene ii      Line 15

This is a pretty interesting line. We were on this same page, just a few lines up from this line, back in the beginning of November. That was just fifteen lines earlier when Viola was asking where they were. Her second question is about her brother who apparently got lost in a shipwreck that she survived, and the captain is telling her that he saw the brother, so we don’t know for now what happened to him. My guess, though, is that he’ll be showing up later in the play, especially since there’s a brother of Viola listed in the cast of characters.

So this line has the word dolphin, not to be confused with dauphin, which we all now know refers to the heir to the French throne. I thought it would be good to make that clear one more time.

I also thought it might be interesting to look at a comparison of today’s lines with the lines from The Tempest in a similar situation. Viola is worried that her brother drowned, and in The Tempest the king is ashore after a shipwreck and he’s worried that his son has drowned. In The Tempest one of the king’s men says of the prince

                I saw him beat the surges under him,

                And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,

                Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

       The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head

       ‘Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d

       Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

       To the shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bow’d,

       As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt

       He came alive to land.

And here’s today’s full passage, the captain speaking after Viola notes that hopefully her brother’s not lost.

                True, madam; and, to comfort you with chance,

       Assure yourself, after our ship did split,

       When you, and those poor number saved with you,

       Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,

       Most provident in peril, bind himself-

       Courage and hope both teaching him the practice-

       To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;

       Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back,

       I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves

      So long as I could see.

Anything? Well they were both worrying about someone who they thought had drowned and they both got stories from someone who thought they saw the person not drowning. So I thought it might be worth comparing. You can see that one guy held 'acquaintance with the waves' and the other guy kept 'his bold head 'bove the contentious waves.' So in one the waves were acquaintances and in the other they were contentious. Okay, you don't find that interesting? Well I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do right now. It's getting late and I have to be up early tomorrow to get to work. Remember, I'm working now, so you have to cut me some slack. I'll see if I can make up for it tomorrow.

This is the workbag I'm using for my new job. It holds a laptop and my planner and the moleskine I use for this blog. I keep the moleskine with me in case I come up with any amazing ideas during the day. My son calls the bag a manpurse. He always finds ways to make me feel good.

By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a false report of him.

Second Serving-Man

Coriolanus                                          Act IV, scene v Line 148

The third time in four days that we hit Coriolanus, so that’s kind of interesting. This line is from the scene where Coriolanus goes over to the Volscians and offers to fight with them against Rome. In the beginning of the scene no one there knows who he is and he’s trying to talk the servants into letting him into the feast so he can talk to the Volscian general Tullus Aufidius. The servants are ready to throw him out, but finally Aufidius comes out to see what’s going on and he accepts Coriolanus in. Then, left alone, the servants discuss Coriolanus and what just occurred. Today’s Totally Random line is in reference to Coriolanus. I think for his sake, it’s a good thing that Second Servant-Man hadn’t ‘strucken him with a cudgel.’ It probably would have been the last person he would ever have strucken with a cudgel or anything else for that matter.

There’s plenty of stories and songs about really tough guys who are mistaken for not so tough guys. In most of those stories someone ends up paying the price for it. In the case of today’s line, no one paid a price.

And isn't that a great word- cudgel. The modern definition says short thick stick. I'm guessing the Shakespeare glossary is something like that too. You don't hear the word cudgel too much anymore, but it's a great sounding word.

So we could get into that old judging a book by its cover thing (which, by the way, is pretty important if you’re trying to publish and sell a book. At least that’s what I hear), but that's nothing new with Will. We know very well how Will loves to use all sorts of ways to paint his characters as different from what they really are. Sometimes he does it in obvious fashion, like having Rosalind in As You Like It dress up as the man Ganymede. Sometimes it's like Coriolanus here showing up looking more like a beggar than a general. And sometimes it's much more subtle. But Will loves this kind of stuff and he's really good at it. 

A little program note here. I started a new job on Wednesday. Yes, back to the world of accounting. Now I had not been working for about a year, so it was a little easier to do this blog. But the important thing is that I'm still enjoying doing it, so we'll keep working on it and see how it goes. And as a side note I should mention that my job is about a half hour commute each way, so I intend to utilize that time to listen to some Arkangel Shakespeare in the car. Gonna start with the Richards and Henrys. One more thing; I missed my post last night not because of the new job, but because my friend was down here in my office monopolizing my PC. But you can bet that we'll be working something out so that won't be happening again. Okay, here's your pic for today. You earned it (well, it's nothing great, so don't get too excited).

These are my old cudgels. They hang in the rafters above my desk. I have a newer set of Calloway X Hots in my bag that I use on the course. I have not ever strucken anything but golf balls with my cudgels. I'd like to keep it that way. 

The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy

particular prosperity, and love thee no worse

than thy old father Menenius does!

Menenius Agrippa

Coriolanus                                          Act V, scene ii    Line 68

Here we are back at Coriolanus. We were just here the day before yesterday, weren't we?. Today’s line is quite near the end of the play. Coriolanus is back at the gates of Rome heading up an enemy army of Volscians who are getting ready to sack Rome. Menenius, his old advisor, and I guess you’d call him a friend, has come out to talk to Coriolanus and hopefully talk him out of sacking Rome. Today’s line is the first words he says to Coriolanus upon meeting him. He’s obviously trying to kiss some butt here telling him that the gods are shining down on him and they love him as much as he, Menenius does. Spoiler alert: Coriolanus doesn’t buy it and tells Menenius to go pound sand. Well what did you expect? Coriolanus fought hard for Rome and for his efforts he got banished because he refused to act humble. I think I’d tell Menenius to go pound sand too.

I guess we could compare this to the post of two days ago when Coriolanus was being told what to do by his mother. He didn't tell her to pound any sand. He listened to her. And second spoiler alert: His mother's going to be the next one to come out and ask Coriolanus not to sack Rome. Think he'll listen to her? I'm not going to tell you. Here's a link to the Act V scene iii if you want to find out.

And here's my little guys acting out the scene again. They're really good at Coriolanus scenes because it's their favorite play. That's Menenius on the left in the red hat. You can see that the fellow playing Coriolanus is pretty much ignoring him at this point. A few minutes later he lays into Menenius and tells him to get lost. They're pretty convincing.

Pray you then,

Conduct me to the Queen.

-Paulina

 

The Winter’s Tale                                            Act II, scene ii    Line 7

Okay, this is our second trip to this scene. If you go back to my September 11 post you can read the setup for what’s going on. It’s not too long. The next line here is the jailer (spelled Gaoler, which I think is some Gaelic version because that’s what they still call it in Ireland) telling Paulina that she’s not allowed to see the Queen. And then we get into the part of the scene that we already covered. So how about we spend a little time with the language today and not worry so much about the context.

So I had two things I thought would be worth mentioning. The first is ‘Pray you then’. This would probably be said ‘would you please’ in today’s speech. Pray you then vs would you please. Has anyone got anything on that? I don’t think there’s a heck of a lot of us out there who would say ‘pray you’ when asking for something. Pray you then, someone please comment. Okay, now look, I automatically put the word please in that last sentence, but I’m pretty sure that the ‘pray you’ already implies ‘please’. So that’s a bit of a tough one to work with.

All right then, how about ‘conduct’? That’s pretty much meaning ‘lead’. Now we use conduct when talking about leading an orchestra, but that’s about it. We don’t use conduct when we’re talking about leading a group of people down the street (or where ever). But we could. What if the bellhop grabbed your bags and said, ‘Follow me. I will conduct you to your room.’ Certainly you’d understand him or her. And if the hotel were in another country you would probably wonder where they learned their English language. If that happened in this country you’d probably look at the bellhop a little funny. Or maybe you’d just say ‘that’s ok, I’ve got it,’ because you didn’t feel like tipping them. Or maybe you never stay in hotels that are fancy enough to have bellhops. I usually don’t, but once in a while…

So that’s all I’ve got on today’s line, a few comments about the language. Very understandable today, but none the less different than the words we use today. Interesting, isn’t it?

So this guy was taking our luggage for us, but he wasn't actually conducting us anywhere. He was just taking care of our luggage. But we were pretty happy with what he was doing, and we weren't too concerned about being conducted.