They are all couch’d in a pit, hard by Herne’s oak, with obscured lights; which, at the very instant of Falstaff’s and our meeting, they will at once display to the night.

-Mistress Page

                       

The Merry Wives Of Windsor          Act V, Scene iii Line 14

The first thing that struck me in these lines is Herne’s Oak. If you’d like a pretty good explanation of this oak and it’s part in this play, here you go http://theshakespeareblog.com/2012/12/the-legend-of-hernes-oak/

Much better than I could do. In fact, that’s a pretty good Shakespeare blog if you’re looking for one.

By the way, this is the third time we’ve picked a Totally Random line from this short, twenty-four line scene. So that’s kind of interesting. We should know this scene by heart at this point, shouldn’t we? Spoiler alert: We don’t.

 

Here's WP couch'd and looking at his PC. So in today's line they were all sitting on a couch down in a pit by Herne's Oak, in the dark, ready to jump out at Falstaff? A couch in a pit? Well that just doesn't sound right. Does it? I told you we didn't know this scene.

Aye, aye. Thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond:

I will not trust you, sir.

-Richard

                                   

King Richard The Third             Act IV, Scene iv, Line 490

This is Richard III talking to Lord Stanley about Richmond. Stanley has just volunteered to go and round up his friends to help Richard in his fight against Richmond. And Richmond is Henry, the Earl of Richmond, who is to become King Henry VII (father of Henry the Eighth if that helps). So Richard knows that Richmond is coming for the throne and he’s a little worried right now about who’s on his side and who isn’t. Of course, you have to realize the Richard III was not the most trustworthy soul, so it’s not surprising that he doesn’t trust anyone else. But to be fair, in this case I don’t think he was wrong in not trusting Stanley. I will not trust you, sir. Well, that’s pretty straightforward.

 

Yes, that's me sitting in a rather large tree stump. And that building behind me? Monticello. Relevance? Absolutely! It's all about the trust. 

This is the home of Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence and the third president. Smart? Yes! Founding Father? You bet. Trustworthy? Not one bit. If I were to face him I would say I will not trust you, sir!

The guy was a weasel. Don't believe me? Look it up. 

For, as I hear,

You, that are king, though he do wear the crown,

Have caused him, by new act of parliament,

To blot out me, and put his own son in.

-Edward

                                   

King Henry The Sixth Part III          Act II, Scene ii, Line 92

Henry The Sixth Part III brings us to the end of the War of the Roses. So far in this play (it’s early yet) Henry is still the king, but he previously made a deal with Edward that the kingship would pass to Edward when Henry dies. This was agreed to despite the fact that Henry has a son (also named Edward, just to make it a little more confusing). Now recall that Henry’s wife, Queen Margaret, is a take-charge lady, and she’s not to happy about her son being disinherited from the throne. And it is Margaret that Edward is addressing right here. He’s saying that she is the real power, even though it’s Henry that wears the crown, and that she has seen to it that the agreement whereby Henry will be giving up the throne has been dissolved. And Edward’s not too happy about that. So, what’s going to happen here? 

To blot me out. That’s putting it quite plainly, and also quite clearly. No one wants to be blotted out. Blot him out. Indeed!

 

Ooof! No one wants to be blotted out!

Every man’s conscience is a thousand swords,

To fight against this guilty homicide.



-Earl of Oxford

                                   

King Richard The Third                 Act V, Scene ii Line 17





First of all - what a great line! Every once in a while we really hit one, don't we!

Now, I believe that the guilty homicide Oxford is talking about is killing King Richard. So apparently Oxford has some misgivings about the killing and he’s expressing this with the image of a thousand swords. That’s a lot of swords. This killing, by the way, has yet to happen so that Oxford is being hesitant about going forward. The rest of the group here, Herbert, Blunt, and Richmond, are quick to convince Oxford that there’s nothing to worry about and that the rest of the country is behind them. And they do, indeed, move forward.



So, irrespective of this scene and what’s going on in it, the image of one’s conscience as a thousand swords is a fabulous one. I can think of plenty of times when I let my mind, my conscience, rule me into an action (or inaction), and it would seem that referring to my conscience in these instances as a thousand swords is a pretty accurate image.



Whilst Oxford was speaking figuratively, here’s a more literal interpretation of the Earl of Oxford feelings: it's a thousand literal swords (well, they’re actually rifles and a few bayonets, not swords, and probably somewhat less than a thousand, but okay). Anyway, WP and I had been discussing this scene and the Earl of Oxford's 'thousand swords' comment as we walked through the Oslo WWII Resistance Museum, when we came upon this display of rifles that had been put together to represent the Resistance. 

So I thought, what a perfect opportunity, and I asked WP to emote the feelings that Oxford was expressing, but to combine that feeling with the feeling of the physical threat of a real thousand swords (guns). 

I think he pretty much nailed it. What do you think?

Marry, well remember’d,

I reason’d with a Frenchman yesterday,

Who told me,-- in the narrow seas that part

The French and English, there miscarried

A vessel of our country richly fraught:



-Salarino

                                   

The Merchant Of Venice               Act II, Scene vii Line 27





So here’s today’s question: Is every word that has ‘ed’ on the end pronounced with an emphasis, and a full syllable, on those two letters? For example: miscarried. It would appear that it is pronounced mis-car-ee-ed; four syllables. I say this because that’s what it would take in this instance to complete that line in proper iambic pentameter. I also say that because the word reason’d in today’s selection is pronounced as a two syllable word to make the verse work. And to make it a two syllable word it’s got the apostrophe d, instead of the two letters ‘ed’. Presumably if it was spelled ‘reasoned’ it would be pronounced with three syllables: ree-sun-ed.  I make this comment also because Will’s works are full of verbs that end with apostrophe d. And therefore, the word stopped, for example, is pronounced with two syllables: stah-ped. And the word stop’d, or stop’t, would be pronounced with one syllable: stopt. 


I don’t think I’ve made this generalization about the full syllable effect of ‘ed’ before. I’ll have to keep an eye on that and see if I’m right. 

Comments?

The guys in this picture are some Frenchmen, but I didn't see them yesterday, and I didn't get a chance to reason with them. They were getting ready for Palm Sunday Mass and we were at the top of the south bell tower, so reasoning with them was a little out of the question. And I'm afraid, in respect to this picture, there is no ship that has miscarried, but rather the church in this picture. Care to guess where this picture is taken?