In answer of which claim, the prince our master

Says that you savour too much of your youth,

And bids you be advised there’s naught in France

That can be with a nimble galliard won;

-First Ambassador

King Henry the Fifth             Act II, Scene i, Line 257

That can be with a nimble galliard won; that’s the line that we ended up with this morning. So, I gave you most of the sentence, but I’d like to give you the context and then a little more, and you’ll see why in a moment.

The ambassadors from France have shown up in King Henry’s court and he has asked them to tell him what’s on the mind of the Dauphin, the crown prince of France. Here is the ambassador’s reply in full.

Thus then in few.

Your highness, lately sending into France,

Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right

Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.

In answer of which claim, the prince our master

Says that you savour too much of your youth,

And bids you be advised there’s naught in France

That can be with a nimble galliard won;

You cannot revel into dukedoms there.

He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,

This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,

Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim

Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.

 

For clarification, a galliard is a lively dance, and meeter means more suitable. So, in other words, stay the heck out of France and here’s something to spend your energy on instead. And when Henry asks what the treasure is that the Dauphin has sent him, Exeter replies,

                        Tennis-balls, my liege. 

That’s right; tennis-balls. The Dauphin sent the king of England tennis-balls to say, blow off your steam playing tennis instead of invading my country.

Tennis-balls, that’s the part I wanted to get to. I thought it was pretty interesting that Shakespeare had a reference to tennis-balls. I had no idea tennis had even been invented in Shakespeare’s time. Did you?

Of course, I would try to show you a pic of a tennis ball for today's post, wouldn't I. I'm not sure what good that would have done, but I don't have a pic of a tennis ball anyway. So here's a pic of a few baseballs. There are some interesting stories behind these balls, but I'm not going to go into that right now. Suffice it to say that I didn't receive any of these balls from an ambassador of a world leader. 

But now I'm thinking, in light of current events maybes I should send these balls to Moscow and tell Vlad to use them to blow off some steam instead of invading Ukraine? Ahh, that's useless. I don't think there's anything gonna stop Vlad any more than the tennis-balls stopped Henry (spoiler alert: they didn't).

Oyyy. So very little has changed in four hundred years; so very, very little.

 

These things, indeed, you have articulate,

Proclaim’d at market-crosses, read in churches,

To face the garment of rebellion

With some fine colour that may please the eye

Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,

Which gape and rub the elbow at the news

Of hurlyburly innovation.

-Henry

King Henry the Fourth Part I    Act V, Scene i, Line 75

The line I landed on this morning was With some fine colour that may please the eye, and I thought, ‘well that’s a nice line’. Then I decided to listen to the whole scene (and I’d like to once again put in my plug for listening to the scene whilst reading it whenever possible) and of course realized that this line was part of a much bigger thought. Henry is responding to Worcester who has just articulated the reasons for the rebellion. Those reasons are ‘these things’ that Henry is alluding to, and as you can see, fine colour that may please the eye is, in the context of Henry’s little speech, lipstick on a pig. Well, so much for the nice line.

There’s quite a bit to unpack in these seven lines, and a steamliner full of luggage to go through if we want to attack the whole scene, even though it’s only 141 lines. But I could spend the day on that, and there are other things I want to get to this morning. Perhaps one day I’ll be at the point where I can, and will, spend the hours needed on an excerpt like this; but I'm afraid it is not this day.

In the meantime, I think I’ll take the line a bit out of context and enjoy it for what I had initially seen in it. That's allowed, isn't it?

This is what Patrice was working on over the weekend. I like it a lot, and I think you can see why I thought of it when I read With some fine colour that may please the eye.

 

Who hath we here? Rome’s royal empress,

Unfurnisht of her well-beseeming troop.

-Bassianus

Titus Andronicus           Act II, Scene iii, Line 56

Bassianus and Lavinia have come across Tamora in the woods. The latter is alone, and the two formers are taunting her. Unfortunately for these latter two, Tamora’s not going to be alone for long. Her two sons show up, and that’s going to be the end of Bassianus and the beginning of Lavinia’s misery.

 Just to be clear, in case you’re not, that second line could be read Without her fine-looking entourage.

 Yes, it’s a pretty dark play: lots of death and destruction. Personally, the older I get the less inclined I am towards this type of entertainment. I’ll take a nice light comedy over this sort of thing any day of the week. Unless, of course, it's Shakespeare.

This is my entourage from a few years back. I'm afraid those little black and white guys are no longer with us, and the other little guy in the middle is not quite so little anymore, but other than that, the entourage is still intact, and it's still a really good entourage.  

 

 

For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,

Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;

And rail upon the hostess of the house;

-First Servant

The Taming of the Shrew      Ind., Scene ii, Line 86

This is the second act of the Induction, which is sort of a different word for introduction. It is a two-scene story which precedes the play. Whilst it is thematically linked to the play, the induction has nothing to do with the action of the play itself. So that’s a little odd. But who am I to question Will?

I’m not going to give you the full story of the induction. It’s about three pages long and I’ll give you the link so that you can read it if you’d like. Long story, very short, it’s about transforming someone, in this case a n’er do well drunk, into a cultured gentleman.

And this of course is basically the theme of the play, transformation. In the case of the Induction, it’s the transformation of a man via trickery.  In the case of the play, it’s a forced transformation of a woman: a taming. Or is it? Hmmm, something to think about.

The Taming of the Shrew - Induction (shakespeare-online.com)

Okay, first off, here's the link to the Induction, so that you can read it.

And second off, if you read the Induction, you will understand the relevance of this pic. And by the way, I should tell you that the fine print on the label informs us that, though this ale was not brewed in England, it has its origin in Burton-upon-Trent in England around 1820. So, it's even more relevant. 

 

Patience awhile, good Cassio.—Come, come;

-Iago

Othello                                   Act V, Scene i, Line 87

Sweet Phebe, good Cassio. Same sentiment? No, not really. Yesterday was Silvius pleading with Phebe who he really does think is sweet, and today’s speaker is Iago, and nothing ever good comes from Iago. As well, nothing very truthful ever comes out of Iago’s mouth. This we know.

To be clear, Cassio is lying there bleeding to death from a wound inflicted in the dark from behind by, you guessed it, Iago. And now the ratfink Iago is pretending to care and telling Cassio to be patient. Yes, that’s what’s happening. Oyy. Good old, honest Iago. Have you ever known anyone quite so dishonest and just downright bad as Iago? To tell you the truth, I can think of a few in my recollections who come close. No names.

And no pics either.

 

 

 Sweet Phebe,--

-Silvius

As You Like It                Act III, Scene v, Line 81

That’s it: Sweet Phebe. Well that’s a pretty short line. And I’m not even going to make you read any of the before or after lines; just Sweet Phebe.

Silvius is sort of pleading with Phebe because he’s in love with her, and she’s giving him a hard time with that. There, that’s your context.

I got nothing else on this today. Wait, I take that back: I do have one thing. It’s sweet. This is a funny word in that it can go both ways. In today’s line Silvius is using it in a positive sense, calling Phebe sweet. But I often find myself using that word in a fairly negative sense when somethings’ not going my way: Sweet mother of…..!

I should probably work on using it more the way Silvius is using it.

Now here's a perfect example of what I'm talking about. When she got accidentally kicked down the stairs and had her leg broken, you can bet she wasn't saying 'Oh sweet Karen.' It had to be something more along the lines of 'Sweet mother of...!'

 

Come unto these yellow sands,

-Ariel

The Tempest                  Act I, Scene ii, Line 375

This is the first line of the song that Ariel is singing as he leads Ferdinand in. It’s only a few lines, so I thought it would be worth our while to have the whole thing. Here you go (with a little of the preceding stage direction):

 

Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing.

FERDINAND following.

ARIEL’S song.

        Come unto these yellow sands,

                And then take hands:

        Court’sied when you have and kist,--

                The wild waves whist,--

        Foot it featly here and there;

        And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

                Hark, hark!

                        [Burden, dispersedly, within. Bow, wow.]

                The watch-dogs bark:

                        [Burden, dispersedly, within. Bow, wow.]

                Hark, hark! I hear

                The strain of strutting chanticleer.

                        [Cry: Cock-a-diddle-dow.]

 

FERDINAND

Where should this music be: i’the air or the earth?

        It sounds no more:--and sure, it waits upon

        Some god o’ the island. Sitting on a bank,

        Weeping again the king my father’s wrack,

        This music crept by me upon the waters,

        Allaying both their fury and my passion

        With its sweet air: Thence I have follow’d it,

        Or it hath drawn me rather:--but ‘tis gone.

        No, it begins again.

 

ARIEL sings,

        Full fadom five thy father lies;

                Of his bones are coral made;

        Those are pearls that were his eyes;

                Nothing of him that doth fade

        But doth suffer a sea-change 

        Into something rich and strange.

        Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

                [Burden within. Ding-dong]

        Hark! Now I hear them, -Ding-dong, bell.

Okay, I snuck a little extra in there. I wanted to give you the whole song and it’s interrupted in the middle by Ferdinand talking to himself for nine lines. I figured nine more lines wouldn’t kill you.

By the way, sea change, in the fifth line of the second part of the song, is a word (or phrase) used nowadays. It’s defined by Merriam Webster- a marked change: TRANSFORMATION. Merriam Webster, by the way, makes note of the fact that Shakespeare originated this usage in the passage that you just read. So next time someone uses the term sea change you can tell them they’re speaking Shakespeare’s language.

Now this is kind of interesting. I ran into this Sea Change Foundation (and I snipped a copy of their logo to paste here) whilst surfing about.  It's a philanthropic foundation that lends their support to a number of different endeavors. Currently they seem to be working mostly on the issue of Climate Change. Now get this; they have a staff of advisors called the Tempest Advisors Staff. Are we to assume that they know that the name of their foundation originates in Shakespeare's Tempest? It would certainly seem so.