Now is the winter of our discontent

Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;

Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,

Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Grim-visaged War hath smoothed his wrinkled frown;

And now-instead of mounting barbed steeds

To fright the souls of fearful adversaries

He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber

To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

-Richard

Richard The Third                         Act I, Scene i, Line 3

Okay, that’s a bit long, about a third of Richard’s soliloquy that opens this play. Now is the winter of our discontent is a fairly well known line. But to be honest, the reason I quoted thirteen lines here was because I really wanted to get to line twelve: He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber. That’s grim visaged War that we’re talking about. Yes, Mr. War is capering nimbly about a lady’s chamber to the music of a lute, perhaps dancing on the bed. I think that’s a funny image.

Will spends these first thirteen lines talking about the juxtaposition of the merriness of victory and peacetime versus the darkness of war that they’ve just gone through. In line fourteen he starts talking about how he’s not personally fit for capering about a lady’s chamber, and he talks about the mischief he’s going to be up to, but we’re not going to get into that. We’re just going to enjoy the image of War capering; think of Patton or Braveheart or one of those other hardcore military guys prancing about a woman’s bedchamber. Yeah, that’s a good image.

As you might expect, I couldn't find a picture of Patton or Braveheart prancing around on a woman's bed, so I got a pic of grass growing on the roof of a house instead. I thought, well this is a little bit odd, and not what one might expect to see, just like Patton dancing on a bed would be. Right?

 

 

Say to the king thy knowledge of the broil

As thou didst leave it.

 

-Malcolm

Macbeth                         Act I, Scene i, Line 18

 

This is Malcolm, the son of Duncan the king, talking to a bloodied sergeant and telling him to report on the battle he just left. The sergeant will go on to tell how brilliantly and bravely Macbeth has fought.

It’s very typical in Will’s plays to have someone on stage describe the battle that took, or is taking, place. It’s a lot easier than trying to stage a battle on a small sixteenth century stage. On the other hand, when you see modern, cinematic productions there’s a good chance that you’re going to actually see Macbeth unseam Macdonwald from the nave to th’ chops. That is to say, slice him open from the navel to the jaw. Oh, Hollywood movie makers would have a great time with that.

Here's one of the earlier covers of the US edition of The Return of the King. Think of all the battle scenes that Peter Jackson staged. On the other hand, Tolkien wasn't writing drama; so he didn't have to have his battle scenes told by one character to another. Tolkien just told us himself. A different deal altogether.  

 

I’fecks!

Why, that’s my bawcock. What, hast smutcht thy nose?-

They say it is a copy of mine. Come, captain,

We must be neat;-not neat, but cleanly, captain:

And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,

Are all call’d neat.- Still virginalling

Upon his palm?- How now, you wanton calf!

Are thou my calf?

 

-Leontes

The Winter’s Tale            Act I, Scene ii, Line 133

 

To which Mamillius replies, Yes, if you will, my lord. Mamillius is the young son of Leontes.

Leontes was thinking all sorts of jealous and misplaced thoughts about his wife and his friend Polixenes, and then he suddenly turns to his son and begins with today’s lines. It appears that he’s trying to assuage the bad feelings he’s having about his wife and friend by concentrating on the good feelings he has about his son. So there’s quite a bit of interesting language here, and it certainly appears at first that this is hard to understand. Maybe, maybe not. So let’s take a look at it.

I’fecks? It just means In faith. So it’s really just a little exclamation to lead with. Not terribly meaningful.

Bawcock is fine fellow, and I believe that smutcht is just what it looks like, a little slang not very different from what we would use today to talk about some sort of messiness, in this case about his nose.

At first he talks about the need to be neater, but then decides that neat is a word used with cattle, so he goes with cleanly. And it’s a bit odd because in the end he goes back to calling his son a calf, a wanton calf.

Virginalling upon thy palm is tapping as though playing a virginal which is a small keyboard instrument.

Wanton, of course, is playful.

Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it? It makes perfect sense.

 

And here's a pic of me and my little bawcock. He's a wanton little bawcock, yes he is.

 

That’s a sheal’d peascod.

                Pointing to Lear

 

-Fool

King Lear                Act I, Scene iv, Line 109

 

Two days in a row with a little stage direction: that’s unusual. Anyway, sheal’d is simply shelled, and peascod is a pea. So basically, Lear is a pea out of his pod. And that’s a fairly apt description of him right now, as he is being treated as quite a bit less than a king by his daughters. Interesting.

Perhaps we could use this instead of the very weary expression out of your comfort zone. I’m sure you’ve heard that one. It’s usually used in a positive sense in that it is a recommended, good thing. You really need to get out of your comfort zone. To which I generally reply Yah, zone this, with an appropriate hand gesture. This would be a much better response, and the other person would have no idea what you’re talking about, which is a bonus.

“You really need to get outside your comfort zone, Pete.”

“Yay, why don’t you become a sheal’d peascod.”

“A what?”

Okay, that’s perfect. Now, I just need to remember it. That’s the trick.

 

Here's Pete in the water. You can't see his face, but you might be able to tell by the body language: he is a sheal'd peascod - out of his element, and out of his comfort zone.

Here's Pete later that same day, in the water; but this time there's no waves and there's a draft beer in front of him, and a bar stool to sit on. He's a bit less of a sheal'd peaspod in this pic.

 

First rehearse your song by rote

To each word a warbling note:

Hand in hand, with fairy grace,

Will we sing, and bless this place.

Song and dance

 

-Titania

A Midsummer Night’s Dream    Act V, Scene i, Line 386

 

Unlike yesterday’s line, these are only a few lines removed from the end of the play. All the mortals have left the stage at this point, all their activities complete, and Oberon, Titania, Puck, and the fairies are here. And they’re just singing, dancing, (as you can note by the stage direction) and pretty much making merry before all but Puck depart, leaving him to wrap things up.

So that’s about all I’ve got for today’s line.

 This guy might be able to do some warbling. Ya think?