The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,

Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,

And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels

From forth day’s path and Titan’s fiery wheels:

-Friar Laurence

Romeo And Juliet                    Act II, scene ii, line 1

And it goes on for a bit more, thirty lines to be precise. It would probably be worthwhile to give you the whole thing, so here it is.

The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
What is her burying grave that is her womb,
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find,
Many for many virtues excellent,
None but for some and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some special good doth give,
Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
And vice sometimes by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath residence and medicine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed kings encamp them still
In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

This is Friar Laurence by himself in the garden. He’s talking mostly about the plants and the weeds, and most of it is a metaphor for life in general, or stuff that's going on in the play. It’s pretty good. Y’all have a pretty good sense of the plot of Romeo and Juliet. So why don’t you read it, enjoy the language, and think about the meaning and how it fits in with the story. To help you out a bit: an osier cage is a basket made out of willow branches, and mickle is a word that means great.

Okay, go for it.

Well, I didn't think I had a sunrise pic, but this is one. It's a little bit past sunrise, but not much. That's the eastern sky to the left there, and the ice on the trees gleaming in the rising sun.

Come, sermon me no further:

No villainous bounty yet hath past my heart;

Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.

-Timon



Timon Of Athens                            Act II, scene ii, line 176





then must you speak/Of one that loved not wisely, but too well. Yes, that line is Othello speaking at the end of his play, but it reminded me of Timon speaking above. Timon has been very generous with his money and possessions, giving out gifts to all his friends. And now he’s realized that this might have been a mistake, proving that it is definitely not good to give unwisely.

Timon asked his buddy to sermon me no further about his unwise giving. But I bet they do a lot of sermonizing about giving, wise or unwise, in this place.

Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o’er a gossip’s bowl;

For here we need it not. 


-Capulet



Romeo And Juliet                                Act III, scene v, line 174





This is Capulet, Juliet’s father, telling Nurse to shut up. I guess that just about says it all.

I think we'd have to call this a Christmas bowl. I couldn't find a gossip's bowl. Heck, I don't even know what a gossip's bowl is; a bowl owned by someone who gossips? Well how am I gonna find one of those?

Will you think so?

-Iago

Othello                                                Act IV, scene i, line 1

Yes, it’s the first line of the scene. It’s the beginning of a conversation between Iago and Othello in which the former continues to stoke the latter’s thoughts of jealousy regarding the supposed, and non-existent, affair between Desdemona and Cassio.

It’s an interesting scene in that it starts in the middle of a conversation, practically in mid thought. Obviously Othello must have said something that Iago is responding to. We just have to imagine what that is based on the conversation that follows. What is the conversation that follows? Well I guess you’ll have to read or see the play, won’t you? Or should I say, ‘will you think so?’

 

Well now, what do you suppose this conversation with Evan is about, and why are we both smiling. Well, the smiles may have nothing to do with the conversation. Maybe we're just smiling because we're sitting at a swim-up bar in Maui. Will you think so? 

The second property of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms it, and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme: it illumineth the face, which , as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me all their captain, the heart, who, great and puft up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage: and this valour comes of sherris.                                             

-Sir John Falstaff

King Henry The Fourth Part II          Act IV, scene iii, line 107

I have heard liquor referred to as ‘liquid courage,’ and that seems to be nothing more than a paraphrasing of these lines from Sir John Falstaff. His treatise on drinking is a pretty good read, which is why I gave you a fairly large segment of it here. Sir John ends his ode to sack (remember, ‘sack’ is sherry) with the following claim:

If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be,--to forswear thin potations, and to addict themselves to sack. 

Much as I enjoyed the soliloquy, I can't say that I buy into this closing sentiment. Sorry, Sir John.

 

Okay, so it might look like my little friend here is enjoying a blue footed boobie with me, but I'm pretty sure that his was a non-alcoholic version. Yes, I'm pretty sure, Sir John, but I guess you can take some solace since I can't say that I'm positive about that.

                        but know, thou noble youth,

The serpent that did sting thy father’s life

Now wears his crown.



-Ghost



Hamlet                                          Act I, scene v, line 93





“You should write a book and call it How To Do Everything Not Now.” That’s what Patrice told me earlier today. I can’t remember what it was exactly that I hadn’t done that she was referring to, but I wrote it down because I didn’t want to forget it. How To Do Everything Not Now. That’s a great title, isn’t it? I do, in fact, tend to procrastinate, so maybe I should write that book. 
But for now it’s a perfect segue into today’s Totally Random line. Here is Hamlet finding out from the ghost of his father exactly what happened. Hamlet learns that Uncle Claudius murdered his father, stole the crown, and quickly married the queen, Hamlet’s mother. And what does Hamlet do with this news? Confront his mother and Claudius? Challenge Claudius to a duel? Plot a scheme to overthrow Claudius? How about.......nothing? Yes, nothing. Oh he thinks about it, and moans about it, and soliloquizes about it. But basically Hamlet could’ve written the book How To Do Everything Not Now. So I guess Hamlet and I are more alike than I ever could have dreamed. Who knew? 

Is it Pete, or is it Hamlet? I guess we'll never know.