Good work, you and your cry!—Shall’s to the 

Capitol? 

-Menenius Agrippa

 Coriolanus                   Act IV, Scene vi, Line 148

 

This is not the ‘good work,’ that you say when someone has actually done a good job. This is the sarcastic ‘Oh good job, bonehead,’ when someone has really screwed something up. Menenius is saying this to the common people who banished Coriolanus, because now Coriolanus is coming back with the Volscians to sack Rome. If ever someone deserved a ‘good work, boneheads,’ it’s these boneheads. The ‘Shall’s to the Capitol?’ Menenius is saying to his bud Cominius who replies ‘O, ay, what else?’ and then these two bounce.

It’s nice to know that Will’s capable of a nice sarcastic ‘Good work, bonehead!’ now and then, isn’t it? That would have been really great if he actually put in the ‘bonehead’ part.

Here's the perfect picture to illustrate the 'Good work, bonehead' line. Imagine, if you will, that you left your buddy to watch the goats, and you gave him specific instructions to make sure that the goats didn't eat any figs off the fig trees. You come back and, wouldn't you know it, the goats are up in the fig tree eating all the fruit. It would be the perfect time for a 'Good work, bonehead.'

 

                                                               Angelo,

There is a kind of character in thy life,

That to th’observer doth thy history

Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings

Are not thine own so proper, as to waste

Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.

Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,

Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues

Did not go forth of us, ‘twere all alike

As if we had them not.

 

-Duke

 

Measure For Measure                     Act I, Scene i, Line 31

 

This is the very beginning of the play and these are the first words that the Duke says to Angelo. He’s going to follow this up by telling the Angelo that he, the Duke, is leaving town and he’s going to put Angelo in charge. Angelo objects, the Duke insists, and that’s that.

Now, the whole gist of this play revolves around justice, and we’re going to find out by the end that Angelo is not so virtuous as the Duke makes him out to be.  But then, there’s quite a bit that will take place between these words of the Duke and the completion of the play. So for today, we’ll just enjoy these words.

I like the part about heaven and the torches. If you just read that sentence first it makes the first part of today’s lines clearer. But I think it also raises some questions. What do you think?

 

Well, the idea was to find a picture of a torch. But since I couldn't find that, we'll have to settle for this picture of a cave, which is a place where you might expect to find a torch. Again, no torch.

 

 

 

O, well begg’d!

  -Cominus

 Coriolanus                              Act I, Scene ix, Line 86

This is a slightly strange exchange, but perhaps well representative of the contradictions apparent in the character of Coriolanus. This is taking place after the battle of Corioli, and he asks Cominius to make sure they spare one of the townspeople of Corioli because the guy sheltered Coriolanus when he needed shelter. Cominius says ‘of course, that’s a proper thing to ask (well begg’d), what’s the guy’s name’. To which Coriolanus responds, By Jupiter, forgot:- I am weary, yea my memory is tired.- Have we no wine here? And so they go off in search of wine and that’s the last we hear about saving that townsperson. But it was a nice idea for all of the ten seconds that it lasted.

Today's action reminded me of the saying 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions.' Well I couldn't find a picture of the road to hell, but here's a pic of the bridge to Merida (behind me in the distance). I know, it's not the same thing. But at least the bridge is from Coriolanus's time, so I thought that would count for something.

 

 

I am made of that self metal as my sister,

And prize me at her worth. In my true heart

I find she names my very deed of love;

Only she comes too short,- that I profess

Myself an enemy to all other joys,

Which the most precious square of sense possesses;

And find I am alone felicitate

In your dear highnesse love.

 

-Regan

 King Lear                                Act I, Scene i, Line 70

 

Act One, Scene One. We get right into it pretty quickly, and see just who’s who in our story. Lear has decided to divide his kingdom up  between his three daughters and he will do so based on how well they each profess their love for him. That, in and of itself, seems a bit strange, but sycophancy suits Goneril and Regan quite well. Goneril went first, and today’s lines are Regan’s attempt to outdo her sister. Cordelia will go last and offer little more than honesty, and not enough flattery. And thus begins the tragedy of King Lear.

On a side note, the last line is written In your dear highness' love in my book. Well we know that the appropriate presentation of possessive highness would be highness's. So I went back to my old standby, The First Folio. The presentation therein was highnesse. As you can see, I used that.  

 

I couldn't find a pic that was particularly appropriate for today's lines, so I'll give you this. It's the front page of my copy of Lear with the Shakespeare and Company Bookstore stamp. How about that?

 

Come hither, England’s hope. –If secret powers

[Lays his hand on his head]

Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,

This pretty lad will prove our country’s bliss.

-Henry

King Henry the Sixth Part III       Act IV, Scene vi, Line 69

 

So we’ll need just a little history lesson here. I’ll try to keep it brief. Henry VI’s reign is marked by the civil wars known as the Wars of the Roses. During theses wars you have Henry, then Edward IV, then Henry again, then Edward IV again, then Edward V (sort of) then Richard III all taking and re-taking the throne. We’re in the middle of this whole mess right here (I think Henry’s about to take the throne back from Edward) and someone introduces the son of Edmund Tudor to Henry. Well this son just happens to be the fellow destined to become Henry VII, the one who defeats Richard III and ends the civil strife. So Henry’s words are truly prescient. They’re also most likely completely made up by Will. I’m pretty sure that there’s no evidence of this particular scene every taking place, let alone Henry making this prophesy. I have to believe that it’s dramatist Will’s way of adding a little drama to the script. But he’s allowed, in fact expected, to do that, isn’t he.

Wouldn't you know it; I have a pic from years (many years) past of us acting out this scene. We thought that doing it in front of the fireplace would give that Tower of London look to it. Dave is playing Henry VI and has just finished the prophetic lines declaring me, as the son of Edmund Tudor, as the future Henry VII. He took his hand off my head right before Mom snapped the pic. Of course, I'm playing the proud recipient of Dave's proclamation, giving that 'don't mess with me 'cause I'm destined to be king' look. Jean was playing either Warwick or Clarence, I can't remember which. And Phil, who looks like he was just photo-bombing the scene, was the Lieutenant of the Tower. Since the Lieutenant only had the one line at the beginning of the scene, Phil was a little distracted at this point. Phil never did have a very long attention span.

 

My curses on her!

 

-Lear

King Lear                                Act II, Scene iv, Line 190

Wow! And he’s talking about his daughter. Goneril has pretty much thrown him out, and he’s come to Regan expecting to be welcomed. However, Regan is suggesting that he go back and apologize to Goneril. To which he replies, My curses on her! Well that’s a pretty strong statement, especially considering that he’s speaking about his daughter.

Again, wow. 

 

This here guy in the green whatever-it-is was backing up traffic on one of my trips out to western Pennsylvania one afternoon. I wonder if I was saying to myself, 'My curses on him!' 

Nah, probably not.

 

His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck

A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted

The little O, the earth.

  -Cleopatra

 Antony and Cleopatra                         Act V, Scene ii, Line 79

 

Antony has just died, a few pages back, and now Dolabella, one of Caesar’s lackeys, has come to talk to Cleopatra. I should say, he’s trying to talk to her, but she’s not listening to him, she’s just talking to herself, musing on her love, Antony. I like this passage and the way she describes Antony. Check it out.

 

Cleo

I dreamt there was an emperor, Antony:--

O, such another sleep, that I might see

But such another man!

 

Dol

                        If it might please ye,-

 

Cleo

His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck

A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted

The little O, the earth.

 

Dol

                        Most sovereign creature,--

 

Cleo

His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear’d arm

Crested the world; his voice was propertied

As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;

But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,

He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,

There was no winter in’t; an autumn ‘twas

That grew the more by reaping: his delights

Were dolphin-like; they show’d his back above

That element they lived in: in his livery

Walkt crowns and crownets; realms and islands were

As plates dropt from his pocket.

 

Dol

                        Cleopatra,--

 

Cleo

Think you there was, or might be, such a man

As this I dreamt of?

 

Dol

                        Gentle madam, no.

 

Oh yes there is, or was. At least as far as Cleopatra is concerned, there certainly was such a man.

And who do we have here? Well, it's someone who certainly thinks his face was as the heavens and that realms and islands were as plates dropt from his pockets. But such is not the case. This is Gaston, not Antony. Sorry Gaston.