No.

-Parolles

 All’s Well That Ends Well           Act I, scene i, line 108

That’s right; today’s Totally Random line is No. Nothing more, nothing less.

Are we going to delve into context? No.

Will we parse the syntax or spelling? No.

Do we have anything of any substance at all to say about today’s line? No.

How about a picture for today? No.

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;--

Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.

What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title:--Romeo, doff thy name;

And for that name, which is no part of thee,

Take all myself.



-Juliet



 Romeo And Juliet                    Act II, scene i, line 82



Well, since this is one of the most famous scenes in the history of drama, I gave you the whole paragraph, or whatever you want to call it. It’s where Romeo sneaks into the garden beneath Juliet’s balcony. He begins with But, soft! What light, yada yada. And then Juliet comes out on the balcony and does her O Romeo. Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? bit. Romeo is still hiding in the shadows when she gives the speech above but then he steps out and answers,

Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

And then it goes on from there. I think it’s easy to see why this scene is so famous.

This balcony in Verona that has been declared Juliet's balcony. Of course, Will's play is a piece of fiction, but since it was set in Verona I guess they decided that they needed to have Juliet's balcony. And so here it is. What do you think of that?

He seems indifferent;

Or, rather, swaying more upon our part

Than cherishing th’exhibitors against us:



-Archbishop of Canterbury



 King Henry The Fifth                        Act I, scene i, line 72



Okay, the first scene of the play and the Bishop of Ely and the Archbishop of Canterbury are discussing a bill that’s circulating that would force the church to give up much of its riches and possessions. Obviously, these two guys don’t want that. Today’s line is in answer to the Bishop of Ely’s question as to how King Henry feels about this bill. Apparently he’s somewhat more inclined to the side of the church, but not completely. He’s swaying. 

Apparently the church has managed to hold onto quite a bit of it's riches and possessions; right or wrong. Which way are you swayed?

Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone?


-Antipholus of Syracuse


 The Comedy Of Errors             Act IV, scene iii, line 35


Today I looked at this line and wondered why the ‘may’ in ‘may we be gone?’ was not capitalized. It comes after a question mark and the apparent end of a sentence, so what's up? I decided to go back to my First Folio to see what it had.

Well, fir, there reft in your foolerie:

Is there any fhips puts forth to night? may we be gone?

That’s exactly what the First Folio has. Or at least, that’s what my copy has.

So let’s look at this. We know that they used f for s, and so it’s easy to see why the modern editors replace all those f’s with s. I think we can also understand using the modern spelling of foolery, and maybe adding the hyphen in to night. Further, I suppose we can forgive the editors for turning ‘ships’ into the singular since that makes more sense, and it does go with the singular verbs ‘is’ and ‘puts’. Turning the colon into a period? That’s starting to get a bit iffy. But then, if they’re going to make all these edits for the modern version, why leave the uncapitalized ‘may’?

I’m not sure why I find that so irksome, but I do. I can't help it.

My associate and I happened to be talking about this editing issue whilst sitting outside the hotdog stand at the Frognerbadet in Oslo. His keen interest in the subject matter is written all over his face.

Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there

Weep our sad bosoms empty.

-Malcolm

Macbeth                                        Act IV, scene iii, line 2

These are the opening lines of the scene. Malcolm and Macduff are in England where they are looking for English support to help get rid of Macbeth. Remember that Malcolm is the exiled son of Duncan, and that Duncan was the king of Scotland before Macbeth murdered him, made himself king, and then began a murderous and treacherous reign.

So Malcolm is starting the scene with a ‘Oh, woe are we!’ lament. Macduff tells him to buck up, and then the scene goes on from there.

 

What about this? Does this qualify as desolate shade? Clearly it's shade. And, well, is that even a tree? Or maybe the better question is what makes shade desolate? Personally, I think that shade looks at least a little bit desolate. What do you think?

And for your brother, he was lately sent

From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,

With aid of soldiers to this needful war.



-Earl of Warwick



King Henry The Sixth Part III           Act II, scene i, line 145





I don’t know if it’s just me (and it probably is), but it sounds a little funny to have these two soldiers talking about how one of their aunts has sent reinforcements. Perhaps this sounds sexist, and in this ‘me too’ world it seems like I can’t say much of anything without being sexist, but it just sounds a little silly to have these guys at war hearing about how auntie has sent some help. 

It reminds me of that scene from Out Of Africa where Meryl Streep’s husband goes off to fight, and then sends a note back to Meryl to send more supplies. Instead of sending supplies she brings the supplies to her husband at the front. She shows up with the supplies and everyone is staring at this woman who riding on an elephant or camel, -or maybe it’s just a horse, I can’t remember for sure- and leading the supply train. Her husband is not there, so one guy turns to another and says, with just the right amount of derision in his voice ‘Got tell Dieter his wife is here.’ Perhaps you’ve got to see it, but trust me, it’s funny.

I couldn't find a clip from the movie, so here's a picture of my wife on a camel. I know, it's not the same, but it's the best I could do.

-an I had been a man of any occupation, if I had not taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues;-

-Casca

Julius Caesar                                Act I, scene ii, line 268

This is part of the same speech that we looked at a few weeks ago. It was the post where I was equating ‘if Caesar had stabb’d their mothers’ to ‘I could shoot someone in broad daylight on Fifth Avenue’. This is Casca, one of the conspirators, describing what had happened with Caesar earlier in the day.  Now right before this line, Casca is describing how Caesar offered to let the crowd cut his throat, and I believe that’s what he’s referring to when he mentions taking him at a word. However, I’m not sure what he’s saying above. I think it’s one of those lines that I’ll live with a while and then when I do come to understand what it means I will wonder how I ever misunderstood it. Yeah, one of those. 

Since I couldn't really figure today's line out, I thought I could give you a picture that we can't really figure out either. Actually, I know what's going on in this picture: this was when Spike was getting old and senile, and he didn't really know what he was doing. What I can't figure out is the relevance of the picture to today's line. Or perhaps that is the relevance: the fact that I can't figure it out. Yeah, that sounds about right. Let's go with that.