Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand

Hath made thee handless in thy father’s sight?

 

-Titus

Titus Andronicus                     Act III Scene i, Line 67

 

But of course, Lavinia cannot speak, because the same hand that made her handless also cut out her tongue. This is the first that Titus has seen of his daughter since this happened and I don’t think he yet realizes that she can’t speak. Marcus, Titus’s brother, has found Lavinia and brought her to Titus. Lucius, Titus’s son, sees Lavinia and says, ‘Ay me, this object kills me!’ Titus responds with a pretty moving sixteen lines. I think they’re worth reading, so here goes.

       

        Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her.—

        Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand

        Hath made thee handless in thy father’s sight?

        What fool hath added water to the sea,

        Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?

        My grief was at the height before though camest;

        And now, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds.—

        Give me a sword, I’ll chop off my hands too;

        For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain;

        And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life;

        In bootless prayer have they been held up,

        And they have served me to effectless use:

        Now all the service I require of them

        Is, that the one will help to cut the other.—

        'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;

        For hands, to do Rome service, is but vain.

 

I’m not suggesting that today’s lines need to be taken to heart, or that there’s some indomitable lesson to be learned from them. But it seems to me that it’s almost always useful to stop and spend a few minutes contemplating on some well written words. The very act of stopping, leaving the world to take care of itself for a few minutes, and concentrating on the words, taking the time to understand the words, and then thinking about that meaning, can be a very worthwhile and beneficial endeavor. 

And of course, no words are more well written than Will’s.

They say a picture's worth a thousand words. I would say that in some cases a picture can be worth a thousand words, and that in some cases a few words can be worth a thousand pictures. 

The picture above was an easy and effective way of remembering which wire went where; much easier than writing out, 'the green wire goes to C, and the white wire goes to W/E, etc.' 

However, I don't think there's one single picture that can convey all of what Will is giving us with the 132 words written above.

What do you think? 

 

 

                    The chimney

Is south the chamber; and the chimneypiece

Chaste Dian bathing: never saw I figures

So lively to report themselves: the cutter

Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,

Motion and breath left out.

 

-Iachimo

Cymbeline                      Act II Scene iv, Line 82

Iachimo is speaking to Posthumus, and to prove that he has slept with the latter’s wife, he is describing her bedroom. 

The chimneypiece he mentions is a statuette on the mantel. It is a figure of Dian bathing, and it was so lifelike is seemed almost that it could talk, report themselves. The sculptor was one of a kind, and the statue outdid even the beauty of Dian, except that it could neither move nor speak. 

Okay, here’s the thing. I could read that paragraph and understand, at least for the most part, what it was saying. Yeah, I looked at some footnotes to help me out a bit. And I knew the context of what was going on with the conversation. Maybe you could get the gist of this too?

I decided to find out if your average, intelligent person who doesn't read much Shakespeare would get much out of this passage. So I asked my two very intelligent associates (not the guy in back; that's King and he wasn't in town for this test) to read it. Well, unfortunately they didn't get too much out of it. I guess that sort of proves that you need to acquire a taste and a bit of a knowledge base in his style of writing to be able to truly enjoy Will's works. 

I think we'll get back to this topic again.

 

        So I leave you

To the protection of the prosperous gods,

As thieves to keepers.

 

-Timon

Timon of Athens                     Act V Scene i, Line 182

Well, Timon doesn’t have any daughters that we know of, but in his own way, he is cursing the world much like Lear was. Unlike Lear, who briefly finds a bit of redemption with Cordelia before dying in the end, Timon gets no redemption. This conversation with the senators, who have come looking for his help, will be his last.

I think it’s interesting that the bitter Timon is telling the senators to go pound sand. Earlier in the play, when Flavius told Timon that the senators had refused to loan Timon any money, Timon had this to say about them.

                                        These old fellows

        Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:

        Their blood is caked, ‘tis cold, it seldom flows;

        ‘Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;

        And nature, as it grows again toward earth,

        Is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.

To be fair, I’m not completely sure what all that means. But I know that though it may not be particularly complimentary, it is at least a little bit understanding and accepting of what the senators are all about. At that point Timon was still inclined to feel good about humanity. Here, very near the end of the play, he’s letting them know loud and clear that he wants nothing to do with them or humanity in general.

Tragedy.

A giant cinnamon bun picture at IKEA. 

Zoom in on the fine print under the yellow $1 square.

Comedy.

 

Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air

Hang fated o'er men’s faults light on thy daughters!

 

-Lear

King Lear                     Act III Scene iv, Line 67

Lear is transposing the ill feelings he has for his own daughters, and the troubles they have caused him, onto Edgar. The latter has just shown up, and Lear assumes that a man so wretched must have been driven to that state by miserable daughters.

         Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued nature

        To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.—

Never mind that Edgar doesn’t have any daughters.

So, how about pendulous air? He's calling forth all the plagues, but it’s not enough to just say plagues. They are the plagues that in the pendulous air hang fated o’er men’s faults. I tell you, there’s a reason this guy is considered the greatest writer in the English language, and this is one small example of it. I’m sorry if you can’t see what I see in these lines. I wish you could.

 

 

Who shall ask it?

The tribunes cannot do’t for shame; the people

Deserve such pity of him as the wolf

Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they

Should say, ‘Be good to Rome,’ they charged him even

As those should do that had deserved his hate,

And therein show’d like enemies.

 

-Cominius

Coriolanus                             Act IV Scene vi, Line 115

There is certainly no more prescient play of Will, or anyone else for that matter, in respect to our current political times than Coriolanus. I’ve said this before and I’ll probably be saying it again.

This is late in the play, and at this point word has reached Rome that Coriolanus has joined forces with the Volscians and they are on their way to sack Rome. Meninius and Cominius, and advisor and a general, respectively, are two who tried to keep from having Coriolanus banished. Brutus and Sicinius are two politicians who whipped up the crowds to get Coriolanus banished. The four are here talking about ‘what now?’

Meninius has just said,

        We are all undone, unless

        The noble man have mercy.

Obviously, the noble man to whom he refers is Coriolanus. Today’s Totally Random lines are Cominius’s reply to Meninius. 'Who shall ask for his mercy?', he is saying. The tribunes Cominius refers to are the politicians. 

I am just flabbergasted every time I read this play at how accurately Will describes the useless politicians and the fickle, ignorant, and easily led crowds. I suppose this is not entirely apparent from today’s lines. However, I listened to the whole of scene six this morning, and I can tell you that Brutus and Sicicnius are the picture of useless politicians whipping up ignorant crowds and then dodging all responsibility when things go sour. You would think Will was writing this about our twenty-first century world. 

Flabbergasted.

Today's twenty-first century world, outside my window. 

Flabbergasted.

 

Go seek the traitor Gloster,

Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.

 

-Duke of Cornwall

King Lear                             Act III Scene vii, Line 24

Pinion: To disable or restrain by binding the arms. That’s from MW online. You could kind of tell what it meant by the context, but I thought it would be good to give a proper definition. It’s not a word that’s in my vocabulary.

Alrightee then; I’ve just listened to the scene, and I must say that it’s really not the best thing to be listening to first thing Sunday morning. Yes, they do pinion Gloster like a thief, and then they gouge his eyes out. I don’t even like listening to it, let alone seeing it.

I think it's fair to say that we often take our eyes for granted. Without them we'd not be able to enjoy the simple pleasure of a backyard sunset.

 

Please your highness, note

His dangerous conception in this point.

 

-Cardinal Wolsey

King Henry the Eighth           Act I Scene ii, Line 140

This is Wolsey talking to the king. Note: Wolsey is a complete weasel. They are discussing the Duke of Buckingham who is not present. Wolsey is convincing the king that Buckingham is a traitor. Again, Wolsey is a weasel, so I don’t know whether there’s any merit to the claims being made against Buckingham, but regardless, the Duke is doomed.

As I said, Wolsey is made out to be a real weasel in this play, but to be clear, I’m not sure what the true nature of his weaselhood was. We have to remember that Will was a dramatist so that all of his history plays, whilst certainly based on history, have a certain element of drama added to them. Hence, they make for good entertainment, which is what they were written for.

And where is our lovely lady standing today? Well that's Buckingham Palace, of course. I'm guessing that it's not named after the Duke of Buckingham in today's Totally Random line, but it shares his name nonetheless.

I like the big royal seals on the gate. Very impressive.