Apollo pardon

My great profaneness ‘gainst thine oracle.

 

-Leontes

The Winter’s Tale           Act III Scene ii, Line 152

 

Leontes is a pretty big butthead. In this scene he has just ignored a proclamation from the Oracle of Apollo and has been rewarded for his profaneness by having his son die. It really doesn’t pay to go against the gods, and Leontes is finding that out the hard way.

Literature, especially the really old stuff, is littered with the bodies of the many Leontes who went against the will of the gods. It just doesn’t pay.

And we're still swearing on the bible today, aren't we?

 

As for the mercy

Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,-

The battle done, and they within our power,

Shall never see his pardon; for my state

Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

 

-Edmund

King Lear                Act V, Scene i, Line 69

 

End of scene with a nice rhyming couplet.

So, Edmund is the consummate schemer. I’ve been reading (actually re-reading) a book recently with a character that reminds me a quite a bit of Edmund. It’s Steerpike in The Gormenghast Trilogy by Mervyn Peake. Both Steerpike and Edmund share the characteristic of appearing to be constantly scheming. In both cases they don’t waste time with anything that’s not going to further their agenda. In both cases that agenda is advancement of themselves.

I always wonder, when I see these parallels to Shakespeare’s works in other literature, whether these later authors drew from Will.

I suppose we’ll never know.

 

The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade

To paly ashes; thy eyes’ windows fall,

Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;

 

-Friar Laurence

Romeo and Juliet                            Act IV, Scene i, Line 100

 

Paly simply means pale; pale ashes. It’s a pretty good description, eh? At least from my point of view it is. How about death shutting the windows when the day is over? I love that.

Anyway, this is Friar Laurence explaining to Juliet how the potion he’s given her will make her look dead. And the potion will work well, albeit perhaps a little too well. It will fool the Capulets, but it will also fool Romeo when the Friar fails to get the message out to him about the plot.

Good ol’ Friar Laurence.

Lawrence Voytek

Here's a link to the only Lawrence I ever knew, though we called him Larry back in the day. He was a little flaky too, so I can see him screwing up the message to Romeo thing just like his namesake does in the play. He seems to have made a name for himself as an artist, though. Way to go Larry!

 

 

The age is grown so pickt’ that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he gaffs his kibe.

-Hamlet

Hamlet                            Act V Scene i, Line 145

 

Oh boy, he gaffs his kibe? What language did you say this was? See, now this is why people think that Shakespeare’s works were not written in modern English. To be clear, and just in case you didn’t know, Shakespeare’s works were written in modern (albeit, sometimes referred to as early modern) English. So, let’s take a look at this line.

First of all, this is the gravedigger scene, made famous by the ‘Alas poor Yorick’ line. Right here, Hamlet is having a back and forth with one of the gravediggers. The gravedigger is being a bit of a wise ass with Hamlet, and that’s the reason for the line. You’re still not sure what he’s saying, are you? Okay, well pick’t just means refined, and the bit about the toe to his kibe? I’ll give you another GB Harrison footnote on that one:

The peasant follows the courtier so closely that he rubs the courtier’s heel into a blister. From about 1598 onward, writers, especially dramatists, often satirized the practice of yeoman farmers grown rich from war profits in sending their awkward sons to London to learn gentlemanly manners.

So after reading that footnote I have no idea exactly how to put that in my own words, even though I feel as though I understand it. Hmmm.

How about this: try not to gaff your kibe, with or without the help of a gravedigger. Okay?

 

I tell thee, Kate, ‘twas burnt and dried away,

And I expressly am forbid to touch it,

For it engenders choler, planteth anger,

And better ‘twere that both of us did fast,

Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,

Than feed it with such overroasted flesh.

 

-Petruchio

The Taming of the Shrew         Act IV Scene i, Line 167

Okay, what have we got here. Well, today’s Totally Random line is Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric, and I thought it might add a little clarity if I gave the whole sentence. In retrospect, I’m not so sure it helped.

I believe Petruchio is telling Kate that burnt and dried meat causes hot temperedness, and since both of them are already hot tempered, Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric, they’re better off not eating it. As we know, this is all a ruse to starve Kate into

submission.

This is me sitting on Dave's lap with Jean on the right. I remember that right before this pic was taken  I had been listening to Dave reading this very passage. Dave went through a very early Shakespeare stage, but regrettably moved out of it pretty early as well. Anyway, I remember that I was still musing intently on this line while the picture was being taken, and had just repeated Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric. Well, Jean hadn't been there when Dave had been reading the passage to me, so she had no idea what I was talking about. I think the confusion is pretty evident on her face. Don't you?

 

Indeed! Ay, indeed:--discern’st thou aught in that?

Is he not honest?

 -Othello

Othello, The Moor of Venice     Act III Scene iii, Line 102

Little rat-fink Iago is just getting started here in his game of making Othello mad with jealousy. He’ll spend the rest of the play ratcheting it up before Othello ends up killing his own wife in the end. And the first thing he says to get it going? Indeed! Yes, that’s right, Indeed! That’s all it takes to get Othello’s interest: Iago’s response of Indeed! This Iago is a very subtle and very clever little rat-fink. Yes, indeed,  he is.

 Act III, scene iii

The scene goes on for another 380 lines, and by the end of it Othello is fully convinced that Cassio and his wife are having an affair. It’s a very interesting progression that Iago works Othello through. Here’s the link. Do yourself a favor and read it. What? You don’t have time right now, you say? Indeed!

 

More  matter for a May morning.

-Fabian

Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will     Act III Scene iv, Line 142

A bit of an alliterative response from Fabian to Sir Toby Belch when the latter explains his idea for playing a trick on Malvolio. It’s surprising that Fabian didn’t work Malvolio’s name into the response. More matter for Malvolio’s May morning. Or, to fit the meter a little better, More matter for Malvolio’s May morn’.

Look at me: editing Will’s writing to make it better. Ha, that's a hot one!

The working desk of Will's editor on this March morn'. Ha!