Talk not of standing.—Publius, good cheer;

There is no harm intended to your person,

Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.



-Marcus Brutus



Julius Caesar                           Act III, scene i, line 90



Publius is one of the roman senators, and Brutus is giving him today’s Totally Random lines so that no one panics. Why would anyone panic? Probably because Brutus and his cohorts have just stabbed Julius Caesar to death on the steps of the Capitol. That would be a little alarming if you happened to be there, wouldn’t it? That’s right, we’re just eleven lines down from the stage direction that tells Julies Caesar to die. Typically, that stage direction is fairly terse: dies. Yup, that’s it, dies.

Well, I dipped back into my 2016 Spain pics again for this one. It's from the Roman ruins in Merida, and this one has a nice spring bloom going on. So we've got the roman tie-in for Julius Caesar (for all we know he might have stood in this spot) and the spring tie-in because it's a spring day today. Sound good?

O, he’s the very soul of bounty!



-Third Lord



Timon Of Athens                                 Act I, scene ii, line 213



This is the early part of the play where Timon has not run out of money yet, and he’s giving lavish gifts to everyone. So the Third Lord’s line is, I guess, pretty accurate. No sarcasm or anything like that going on here. No worries though, it’s all going to turn sour for Timon pretty soon and there'll be plenty of time for sarcasm, cynicism, and all that good stuff.

Yes, this is a different (very different!) Timon. I couldn't come up with any meaningful picture this morning, so I'm giving you this guy. He looks pretty optimistic, so he's fine for Act I; not so much for Act V. But that's for another day.

--But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother’s admiration? Impart.

-Hamlet



Hamlet                                     Act III, scene ii, line 346



Hamlet and Rosencrantz are chatting, and the subject has turned to Hamlet’s mother. Remember, Rosencrantz is an old friend of Hamlet’s, but at this point he’s really just spying on Hamlet for Gertrude and Claudius, and Hamlet knows it. So all of Hamlet’s replies to Rosencrantz are laced with sarcasm, cynicism, or just plain nonsense. Rosencrantz has said to Hamlet that Hamlet’s behavior hath struck her into amazement and admiration. I’m pretty sure that he means that Hamlet’s mother doesn’t understand Hamlet’s strange behavior. But Hamlet pretends that he thinks it means that he’s done a good thing, so he replies



            O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother!—But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother’s admiration? Impart.



So he’s really just being a wise-ass at this point. This is a good picture of the puzzle that is Hamlet. 

Here's another puzzle for you, though admittedly it's got nothing to do with Hamlet. This is Sainte-Chapelle in Paris and it's a puzzle for a few reasons. First, it's nearly impossible to find this place. It's tucked away behind some other buildings a few blocks away for Notre Dame. Second, it's a puzzle how they ever put this thing together. The size of these windows and the fact that they take up the whole wall of the building is amazing. Third, how the heck are you supposed to appreciate the beauty and detail of these windows? They're so high that you can't get anywhere near them. Yes, nothing to do with Hamlet, but puzzling nonetheless.

Sweet  marjoram.


-Edgar



King Lear                          Act IV, scene vi, line 94



Marjoram is a minty herb. I found that out by googling it. It’s not an old, Shakespearean word, and in fact it’s not in the glossary of the Shakespeare app on my phone. It’s just a regular garden-variety word. Did you get the double entedre there? 


I’m not sure what Edgar means by it, if anything. This is the scene where Edgar and blind Glouster have run into Lear. The latter appears to be quite mad (insane) at this point and he’s just finished a paragraph of seemingly incoherent ramblings when Edgar interjects ‘Sweet marjoram’, and Lear responds simply, ‘Pass’. 

So, what does Edgar mean by ‘Sweet margoram’? You tell me.

This is a picture of the mint growing outside my window. It comes back up every year and grows like a weed. It's not exactly marjoram, as far as I know, but does this help in figuring out what Edgar means? Probably not.

I’ll bring him to you.—

[to the Senators]Let me desire your company: he must come,

Or what is worst will follow.



-Menenius Agrippa



Coriolanus                               Act III, scene i, line 334



‘Him’, in the line above is Coriolanus. Menenius and the senators and the tribunes have been discussing Coriolanus, and Menenius has agreed to go get the fellow. When Coriolanus comes before them all he ends up getting banished from Rome. And of course that doesn’t work out particularly well for anyone, does it?


Interesting phraseology: Let me desire your company. It’s perfectly understandable, and yet it’s not something you would ever hear, except perhaps in genteel British society. It takes the onus off of you and puts it on me. It also seems a bit subservient. He’s not telling the senators what to do. He’s telling the senators what he’s doing: he’s desiring their company. Let me desire your attention to the picture below.

If you were talking to the lady who lives here you might say something like let me desire your company. This is Windsor castle, and the lady living here is Queen Elizabeth II. You're probably not going to be talking to her anytime soon.

If I know you well,

You were the duke’s surveyor, and lost your office

On the complaint o’the tenants: take good heed

You charge not in your spleen a noble person,

And spoil you noble soul: I say, take heed;

Yes, heartily beseech you.



-Queen Katherine



King Henry The Eighth                        Act I, scene ii, line 176



Let’s start with a little context, and I’ll keep it as short as possible.



Cardinal Wolsey doesn’t like the Duke of Buckingham, so he’s told the king that the duke is plotting against him. The cardinal has gotten the duke’s former surveyor to come to the king’s court to testify against the duke. Queen Katherine (that’s Katherine of Aragon, Henry’s first wife) is listening to this testimony. She has a pretty good idea that the surveyor is lying and that the cardinal has put him up to it. So today’s totally random lines is what she says to the surveyor. She’s saying that the duke fired him for good cause so don’t be lying about the duke because you’re mad at him for that. Charge not in your spleen: don’t talk out of anger.


Actually, charge not in your spleen is pretty good universal advice. It’s never good to speak with your spleen. You should be speaking with your head. Not that I’ve always adhered to this advice. I’ve charged in my spleen plenty of times. I’d like to think I do it less as I get older. But still…

Well, I couldn't think of any picture to go with today's line, so I decided to just go with a fun pic. This is me and my buddy trying to move this humungous chain that is sitting in a waterfront park we visited in Oslo. But after posting it, I realized that it's actually relevant. You see, we didn't really think this through. It's not like we were going to accomplish anything by moving the chain (and by the way, we barely budged it). We were just charging in our spleen, not our heads. To be clear, I'm not sure if charging in your spleen means acting out of anger or just acting out of emotion. In the case of this picture I'm assuming the latter, because we weren't mad at the chain. In any event, luckily I didn't hurt my back, and no Norwegian park rangers came and arrested us. And I got this pic. So it actually worked out okay.

There’s but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins tackt together and thrown over the shoulders like a herald’s coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry.



-Sir John Falstaff



King Henry The Fourth Part I      Act IV, scene ii, line 47

This is part of about forty lines of prose that is Falstaff talking to himself about the tattered group of men he is going to be leading into battle. We’ve visited this soliloquy before, but it was about three years ago and at the time we had picked a line earlier in the speech. Looks like I posted about that line on April 6, 2017. How about that? In that previous post he’s talking about the ages of the men in his group. In this post he’s talking about the lack of clothing on his men. Here’s the link to that previous post if you’re interested. https://totallyrandomdailyshakespeare.blogspot.com/2017/04/younger-sons-to-younger-brothers.html

This is the same pic I used in that 2017 post. I couldn't pass up using it again. That time I used it to exemplify the 'younger son', but today I'll key in on the shirt, since shirts are today's topic. I had mentioned Will's stylin' plaid pants in 2017, but I think you'll have to admit that my striped shirt has its own bit of style. No, it can't compare to the pants, but what could?