You fools! I and my fellows

Are ministers of fate: the elements,

Of whom your swords are temper’d, may as well

Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs

Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish

One dowle that’s in my plume.

 

-Ariel

The Tempest               Act III Scene iii, Line 61

 

This is Ariel, pretending to be a Harpy, threatening the King and his men. A dowle in his plume is a feather in his wing. Remember, Harpies have wings.

So this is a little long, but pretty easy to understand. At least, I think it is. And very shortly after this the king and the two brothers are driven mad with fear and go running off.

And there you have it.

Self Explanatory

 

Who wouldst thou strike?

 -Proteus

The Two Gentlemen of Verona   Act II Scene i, Line 200

 

Interesting succession of lines, eh? Yesterday it was What should this be, and today it’s Who wouldst thou strike. That leaves where, when, or how for tomorrow.

Well, I couldn't find a pic for Who wouldst thou strike, so I'm giving you What didst thou eat? But don't ask me what this is. We got it at a very fancy restaurant in a very non-fancy place. I think the meat in the middle picture is reindeer, but the rest of the stuff; no idea. So the question What did you eat, will have to go unanswered. 

 

What should this be?

 

-Sir John Falstaff

The Merry Wives of Windsor          Act V Scene v, Line 33

 

Well, I don’t have a heck of a lot to say about this line. They hear a noise, and Mistress Page says Alas, what noise?; Mistress Ford says, Heaven forgive our sins; Falstaff says What should this be?; the ladies yell Away, away!, and they all exit. And that’s that.

I think it would be only fair for us as the readers to say, What should this be?

 

What should this be? 

It's a golf course, knucklehead.

 

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?