Ay, sooth; so humbled

That he hath left part of his grief with me, to suffer with him. Good love, call him back.

Desdemona

Othello                                                 Act III, Scene iii                 Line 53

This is Desdemona replying to Othello when he asks her if that is Cassio who just left as he, Othello, was approaching. And of course it was Cassio. He and Desdemona spend a lot of time talking in this play. They’re talking about how Desdemona can help Cassio, Good Michael Cassio, get back in Othello’s good graces. I don’t remember how he got out of Othello’s good graces, but apparently he did. And I can pretty much guarantee you that he’s not going to be getting back in them any time soon.

‘Good love, call him back.’ But Othello will not call him back. And the more Desdemona tries to get him to call him back, the more he resists and the more he begins to wonder what’s going on with good Michael Cassio. It’s certainly nice to be able to read this line and understand what the heck is going on, isn’t it? Phoenix and Turtle indeed!

And Desdemona is such a pretty name. But being such a tragic character I don’t suppose it’s a name that’s ever caught on all that much. By the way, sooth means truly. So she’s saying ‘Yes, truly.’ I think that’s a phrase you could use in just tons of places.

‘Are you done with your homework?’

‘Ay, sooth.’

‘Did you have a good day?’

‘Ay, sooth.’

‘Can you say something besides ‘Ay, sooth?’’

‘Ay, sooth.’

Do I know why I've got my hands up in Svalbard as if someone's holding me at gunpoint? Ay, sooth! No, wait a minute. Actually I don't know why I'm holding my hands up in Svalbard. Nuts, that didn't work.

That it cried how true a twain

Seemeth this concordant one!

Love hath reason, reason none

If what parts can so remain.

Narrator

 The Phoenix and the Turtle                                         Stanza 12            Line 48

Okay, now you should see why I like the plays. For the record, I pushed the random pick forward a whole page because the page I randomly picked was a page of Passionate Pilgrim that was made up completely of non-Will materials. So….

Now, what of this Phoenix and Turtle? And by the way, from what little reading I’ve done on this I do know that we’re talking about two birds, the second one being a turtledove, not a shelled amphibious animal. Again, so…

First off, this is a one page poem with eighteen stanzas. The first thirteen are four lines each with an ABBA rhyme scheme and the last five are three lines each with an AAA rhyme scheme. Honestly, who came up with that? Will? So you can see above, this is stanza number twelve with twain, one, none, remain as the rhyme scheme. Again, honestly!

Further, what’s it all mean Basil? This reminds me of half of James Taylor’s songs; a lot of nice sounding words, but meanings? Well, not so much. But it’s Will, so I must be wrong.

So I found some interpretive works on this poem. I was just now thinking about putting some links here, but thought better of it. I tried getting through a few of these interpretations and, well, let’s just say that the interpretations could use some interpreting. Then, what do we do? 

Now it just occurred to me: I’m a reasonably intelligent fellow. No genius, mind you, but reasonably intelligent. Given that, what did the average Englishman of 1603 think of this poem? Did he/she understand it? Did they get it? Did they enjoy it? I wish I had him/her here to tell me what they thought of it. But I don’t, do I?

I think we might amend our page limit to 1250. I’ll have to give it some thought. Today's Totally Random line? I just don't know.

Since I didn't really give you much on The Phoenix And The Turtle, I'll give you a picture of The Noah And The Tortoise. And a nice warm summer day!

Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy

In thy uprightness and integrity,

And so I love and honour thee and thine,

Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,

And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,

Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, That I will here dismiss my loving friends,

And to my fortunes and the people's favor Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.

Bassianus

Titus Andronicus                                              Act 1, Scene i    Line 48

I believe that when I was being taught language arts back in grammer school (when it was simply called English class) today’s Totally Random line would be referred to as a run-on sentence. But of course since it’s Will’s, we won’t call it that. 

So we spent the weekend with some non-play material; Lucrece and The Passionate Pilgrim (I’d like to find out where that second title comes from). But today we’re back to the plays. And thankfully as far as I’m concerned. Oh, his other works have some good stuff in them, don’t get me wrong. But it’s just nice to be back in the plays. Even if it is this trouble maker Titus Andronicus.  But today’s line, other than its length, is not very troubling at all. In fact, there’s not one iota of blood and gore and guts in it. Not even an oblique reference. 

This is the very beginning of the play and we have Bassianus talking. He’s responding to Marcus, Titus’s brother. Bassanius and Saturninus are the two candidates for leadership of Rome (not sure what the title of the leader is). They’ve just introduced themselves when Marcus pipes up that Titus, who is a great warrior, wants to be considered for leadership. This is Bassianus’s reply to Marcus, and it seems to be a pretty positive reply, don’t you think?

And new word today, in the first line: affy. It means to trust in. Interesting, isn’t it? So Bassianus and Saturninus are going to trust in Marcus’s uprightness and integrity and go along with him, welcoming Titus into the election. It all seems pretty rosy, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, it won’t last. This is all just setting up an incredible contrast for what’s to come. If you’ve forgotten, you can go to the ‘Will’s Works/Pete’s Posts’ tab and check out the posts on Titus. There’s quite a few there. Or if you’d rather enjoy the rosiness of the moment and prefer not to think about the bad stuff, stay away from those posts. Your choice.

That's right, affy in what I told you and be prepared for the worst if you plan on going and checking out those Titus posts.

All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;

Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire:

Thine eye Jove’s lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful thunder,

Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.

Narrator

The Passionate Pilgrim                                 Stanza 5              Line 68

The Passionate Pilgrim. We’ve made it so very close to the end of the compilation. This is page 1,248 out of a possible 1,252 pages. And this back section of the compilation is devoted to Will’s non-play materials. This particular selection? It’s something called The Passionate Pilgrim and it’s a work that’s comprised of a bunch of miscellaneous stuff. A bunch of the pieces of poetry included in this work are assumed to have not been written by Will. Yes, that’s right. And so with Today’s Totally Random line I cheated a little bit.  I went Totally Random on the page, but I limited my pick on the page to the stuff that’s pretty much assumed to actually be Will’s. And the sonnet I took this from is one of those. Based on the content, I have to agree. But what about today’s lines?

Well one advantage to reading a sonnet as opposed to a play is that you really don’t have to worry about figuring out what’s going on in the play. The sonnet is a pretty much stand alone piece that’s only fourteen lines long. And this one? Ummm...

Sweet Baby James, Fire and Rain? No, I guess not, but I can’t help but think of that when I read that last line. And what about sweet fire? And what about this woman he's talking about? Her eyes like lightning and her voice like thunder? But when it's not being angry it's like music and sweet fire? What's sweet fire?

Okay, maybe the stuff from the plays is easier.

Fire and Rain? Sweet Baby James? Sweet Fire? No?

Her eyes like marigolds had sheathed their light,

And canopied in darkness sweetly lay,     

Till they might open to adorn the day.

Narrator

 Lucrece                                      Stanza 57            Line 402

Right to the end of the book we go today, and the poem Lucrece. This is our second visit to this pretty dark poem. Here’s the first post if you want to read it for a little background.

Keeping in mind that the other title for this poem is The Rape Of Lucrece, we know what this poem is about. And the stanza that we take today’s line from is a section, about a half dozen or so stanzas, that describe Lucrece as she lies asleep in bed. Now that could be a nice scene if it were not for the fact that what is being described is what the rapist is seeing and this is just about to turn into a rape scene. So that’s a bit disturbing.

But it almost seems like Will wants to make you forget that context and just concentrate on the beauty of Lucrece. And he uses a lot of nature references here to do that. A few lines earlier he was talking about her pure white hand on the green blanket, comparing it to a daisy in the grass. And in today's Totally Random line we're talking about marigolds. Lots of flower references, eh? It’s a pretty interesting section.

Her eyes are not just closed, they are ‘canopied in darkness’. And when they open they won’t just be open, they will ‘adorn the day’. My goodness Will’s wordplay is, is… well it’s beyond my ability to describe his wordplay. Or perhaps wordwork. Or maybe wordArt. Yes, wordArt, that’s what it is. Okay, that's right, Microsoft’s got that one and uses it for their artsy font stuff. So, oh well.

In any event, today’s line, albeit a prelude to a rape, has some absolutely beautiful language. And I think we could take this into a discussion which has the potential of going in a few different directions; perhaps a contrast of the beauty of this section of the poem with the uglilness of rape? But I’ll leave that up to you. Read it, share it, discuss it.

Here's one more flower; not a marigold or a daisy. In fact, I have no idea whatsoever what kind of flower this is. Anybody?

Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,

Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.

Earl of Warwick

King Henry The Sixth Part III                                       Act V, scene ii    Line 15

Warwick is, of course, talking about dying. And he is dying. He’s lying on the battlefield and he’ll be speaking his last words a few lines down. In today’s Totally Random passage he’s comparing himself to a cedar tree. I don’t know about you, but it seems to me he’s painting a pretty noble picture of himself. And why cedar? There must be a reason that Will picked the cedar. Just because it fit into the Iambic pentameter scheme (it does). But there must have been other choices. Maple? That would work. Oak, birch, those don’t work with the meter. But anyway.

I’m pretty sure that the princely eagle and the ramping lion refer to someone in this play, but I’m also pretty sure I don’t know who. And he’s saying he was taller than Jove’s spreading tree? That’s going out on a limb, if you’ll excuse the pun. And he protected the low shrubs from the powerful wind. I’m guessing the powerful wind and the low shrubs refer to someone or something. Again, dunno what. I’ll look it up and see if I can find anything on this. In the meantime, it’s all very nice sounding, don’t you think?

Well I tried to find a picture of the cedar tree in the front yard of the house I grew up in, but no luck. So I give you this pic of a sequoia. Now if Warwick really wanted to compare himself to something, he should have gone for this, not some scraggly cedar. Of course, they didn't have sequoias in England back then, and they still don't. But just the same, this is a real tree. 

Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers,

A pair of bleeding-hearts; thereon engrave

Edward and York; then haply she will weep:

Therefore present to her--as sometime Margaret

Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,--

A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain

The purple sap from her sweet brother's body

And bid her dry her weeping eyes therewith.

If this inducement force her not to love,

Send her a story of thy noble acts;

Tell her thou madest away her uncle Clarence, Her uncle Rivers; yea, and, for her sake, Madest quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

Queen Elizabeth

King Richard The Third                            Act IV, scene iv Line 280

Okay, I know I really did it to you this time. Yup, that’s right, I gave you a big old honker of a read here. The actual Totally Random line of the day is just the very last part of this, but I just couldn’t help myself. I couldn't break this little speech apart.

This is Elizabeth’s answer to Richard III when he asks her how to go about winning her daughter's heart. She’s talking about all sorts of stuff about that Richard’s done: killed her sons, killed his brother. Of course she’s being facetious and sarcastic. His reply: you mock me ma’am . to which she answers, there is no other way, ‘unless thou couldst put on some other shape And not be Richard that hath done all this.’

And not be Richard. So the answer to his question of how to woo her daughter is either for him to be completely honest with the daughter as to what he is, or for him not to be Richard III. Kind of hard to do that. He is who he is. Right? Which way will he go? Probably neither. Probably a dastardly Richard III way.

 Send her the bleeding-hearts engraved with the names Edward and York; ‘then haply she will weep.’

Give her a handkerchief purple with her brother's blood; ‘And bid her dry her weeping eyes therewith’.

If you stop and think about it, Will really comes up with some pretty twisted stuff. I mean, sometimes I really question the sanity of this guy. Not that he wasn’t genius, because very obviously he was. But the stuff this guy thinks of, while it is genius, is just so far removed from normal. And this is one case. Richard’s asking the mother what he needs to do to woo the daughter, and the answer he gets is… Wow.

So I was reading the line 'madest away her Uncle Clarence' and it reminded me of the time this crew here madest away our Uncle Harry. Yeah, the poor guy drove up from Philly to visit his sister (my mom) and the six of us ganged up on him and straight out drove him out of the house. He couldn't take it. Well little Richard the Thirds we weren't, but I guess we weren't all that pleasant to be around either. I guess we've all got just a little bit of Richard the Third in us, no matter how innocent we look.