Here at the door; I pray you, let them in.

 -Iago

 Othello                                                Act II, Scene iii, Line 44

 Well, it’s Iago talking, and it appears that he’s anxious to have someone let in. So it’s pretty much assumed that whoever is at the door is wittingly or unwittingly a part of some Iagoish skullduggery. The one good thing about Iago is that you always know what you’re dealing with: a lying, manipulating, self-serving creep. The odd thing is that we realize this, but no one in the play does. Do you suppose that when they read the history books fifty years from now kids will be asking why so many people couldn’t see today’s Iago for who and what he was? I think I might have said this before.

 

 

I guess I gotta stop posting this picture of an orange. It's not fair to the orange.

 

 

Sheathe your dagger:

 

-Marcus Brutus

Julius Caesar                          Act IV, Scene iii, Line 107

 

Well, today is election day. I was sitting upstairs combing through the news on my smartphone and getting more and more upset. So I decided to come down here to my office and try to escape into some of Will’s stuff. And today’s Totally Random line seems proper. Sheathe your dagger. Settle down. Let it all be.

I listened to the first half of this scene and it’s all about Cassius and Brutus getting into a really heated argument and yelling at each other. The fight culminates with Cassius taking out his dagger and offering to let Brutus cut his heart out. And then the tone softens as Brutus says Sheathe your dagger. After that they both calm down and kiss and make up. Well, there’s not actually any kissing, but you know what I mean.  

So, regarding the election, and the news and all, I need to sheathe my dagger. I guess it’s good advice for all of us. I’ll try.

 

Here's a good pic. That's Jess in the middle with her two friends Lizzy and Nell. They look pretty happy. No yelling or fighting; just smiles. The way it should be. 

 

And as she runs, the bushes in the way

Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face,

Some twined about her thigh to make her stay:

She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace,

Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache,

Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake.

 

-Narrator

 Venus And Adonis                               Line 1871

 

I think she’s running to see what’s happened to Adonis. He’s gone hunting and I think this is the part where she’s going to find him dead or dying. I’m pretty sure, but not positive.

By the way, ‘dugs’ are nipples. So that’s an interesting simile, isn’t it.

Here's a picture of my thumb. I hope you weren't expecting a picture of a nipple.

 

O, from what power hast thou this powerful might

With insufficiency my heart to sway?

To make me give the lie to my true sight,

And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?

 

Sonnet 150                                          First Stanza

 

Thoughts? Personally, I can’t help but relate it to current politics, and more specifically to the incumbent. But that’s just me.

 

 

There might you see the laboring pioneer

Begrimed with sweat, and smeared all with dust;

And from the towers of Troy there would appear

The very eyes of men through loop-holes thrust,

Gazing upon the Greeks with little lust:

Such sweet observance in this work was had,

That one might see those far-off eyes look sad.

 

-Narrator

 Lucrece                       line 1380

This is the the part of the poem where Lucrece is walking around the house despondently, and she stops to gaze at a painting of the siege of Troy. You have to read it a few times, and try to get into the frame of mind of Lucrece, who is so down at this point that she feels her life is over. It's a good stanza. A little depressing, but worth the read. 

Also, it helps when you read it (aloud, of course) if you make 'smeared' a two syllable word with the accent on the second syllable: smear - ED. Try to think and talk like a Brit.

Here's my latest project. I've taken out some steps on this deck and I'm going to be replacing them with more bluestone to increase the size of the patio. I can assure you that I got begrimed with sweat, and smeared all with dust, but I don't think too many eyes were on me, and there was certainly no lust involved.

 You have undone a man of fourscore three,

That thought to fill his grave in quiet, --yea,

To die upon the bed my father died,

To lie close by his honest bones! but now

Some hangman must put on my shroud, and lay me

Where no priest shovels-in dust.—O cursed wretch,

That knew’st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure

To mingle faith with him!—Undone! Undone!

If I might die within this hour, I have lived

To die when I desire.

 -Shepherd

 The Winter’s Tale                                Act IV, scene iii, line 461

 

That’s a pretty wordy shepherd.

Fourscore three. That’s pretty old. Not quite as old as fourscore and seven, but still pretty old. Do you think that one of our favorite bardolaters got the idea for the start of he speech from here? Or was fourscore once a common expression. I surely do not know. Exciting to think that Will was present in the Gettysburg address though, isn’t it?

Where no priest shovels-in dust. That is to say unconsecrated ground. But no, not unconsecrated ground, it’s a place where no priest shovels dust in. I love his word work. I was going to call it wordplay, but it’s not play. It’s at a much higher level than play. But perhaps not work either. Word mastery. How’s that?

Ahhh, but are they really all his own words? We may never know.

 

Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,

That would not let me sleep: methoughts I lay

Worse than the mutines in the bilboes (mutineers shackled in irons). Rashly,

And praised be rashness for it, let us know,

Our indiscretion sometime serves us well,

When our deep plots do pall: and that should learn us

There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,

Rough-hew them how we will.

 -Hamlet

 Hamlet                            Act V, scene ii, line 6

 

Another long one, but sometimes I just hate to break them up. This is Hamlet explaining to his friend (his only friend) Horatio what happened on the ship to England. He goes on to tell how he found the letter that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had, the letter that told the king of England to execute Hamlet. The prince tells how he replaced it with a letter telling the king to execute R&G instead.

 

I like the last part, There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,/Rough-hew them how we will. No matter how hard we try to muck it up, the Lord has a plan for us. In other words, All will be well, even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself. It’s a reassuring thought, particularly in 2020, isn’t it?

 

I was trying to find a picture of something rough-hewn. I decided that I look a little rough-hewn in this pic. What do you think?