You are retired,

As if you were a feasted one, and not

The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid

These unknown friends to’s welcome; for it is

A way to make us better friends, more known.

 -Shepherd

 The Winter’s Tale           Act IV, Scene iii, Line 65

 

This is the shepherd, Perdita’s adopted father, talking to Perdita. There are a bunch of people that have shown up at their cottage and the shepherd is telling his daughter to get moving and be a good hostess, and make them welcome. He starts this section by talking about his wife, and what she would do when she was alive.

 

        Fie, daughter! When my old wife lived, upon

        This day she was both pantler, butler, cook;

        Both dame and servant; welcomed all; served all;

        Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here,

        At upper end o’the table, now i’the middle;

        On his shoulder, and his; her face o’fire

        With labour, and the thing she took to quench it,

        She would to each one sip. You are retired….

I’m not sure exactly what strikes my fancy so, but I like that little passage about what his wife used to do: apparently pretty much everything. And she certainly seemed like a happy hostess.

It seems to me that being a good hostess, or host, is a real talent. I suppose it can be nature, nurture, or a combination, but some people have it and some people don’t. I’ll put myself in the don’t category.

How about MaryAlice Scott? I wonder if she's a good hostess. I really don't know anything about her, other than the fact that she's the oldest with shortest hair, and that's not a lot to go on. So I guess we'll never know if she's a good hostess or not. Oh well. If you're out there MaryAlice you can let us know.

 

Naught rests for me, in this tumultuous strife,

But to make open proclamation:-

Come, officer; as loud as e’er thou canst.

-Mayor of London

 King Henry the Sixth Part I            Act I, Scene iii, Line 107

The Mayor of London has some fairly weighty powers. He’s reading the riot act (pretty much literally) to the Duke of Gloster and the Bishop of Winchester, two guys who are not exactly lightweights. And he’s doing it quite effectively. Yes sir, Mr. Mayor!

This little guy (an old pic; he's not so little any more) is going off to college today, and that's got me a little down in the dumps. Perhaps I need Mr. Mayor to read me the riot act and tell me to buck up!

 

Nay,‘tis most credible; we here receive it

A certainty, voucht from our cousin Austia,

With caution, that the Florentine will move us

For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend

Prejudicates the business, and would seem

To have us make denial.

 

-King

 

All’s Well That Ends Wel               Act I, Scene ii, Line 8

 

What’s most credible? It’s that the Florentines and the Senoys are continuing a war, and apparently the king’s friend, Austria, is warning the king that the Florentines will be looking to him for aid, and he should not give it. How about that?

Now, how about this word, prejudicates. Austria (in this case a person, not a country) prejudicates the business. Are you familiar with the word. It’s not commonly used. In fact, Word gives it a red underlining, and you know what that means. It looks a lot like prejudice which is a pretty common word. And, in fact, this is a verb form of pretty much the same meaning (I looked it up). It means to form a judgment prematurely, or on the basis of incomplete or imperfect evidence; in other words, to be prejudicial.

I think it’s a good word. That's right, it's worthy of getting more use. Now please don’t prejudicate me on that notion. Give it some thought; don’t form a premature judgement, okay? It's rarely, if ever, a good idea to prejudicate.

This here is my new little friend that I went to visit last week (and the main reason I've not posted in over a week). She's cute as a button; a beautiful little girl. She's also half Asian (an asset, if you ask me), and looks it. I pray to God that no one ever prejudicates her based on that fact.

 

 

No, no, forsooth; I dare not, for my life.

-Grumio

The Taming of the Shrew        Act IV, Scene iii, Line 1

 

This is the first line of the scene, so that anyone reading or hearing it will know just as much as anyone else, which is not much. We have to carry on further into the scene to find out exactly Grumio is talking about. The only other thing we know so far, from reading or from sitting in the theater, is that Grumio and Katharina are the only ones in the room as the scene opens.

Okay, well I guess I’ll tell you. Grumio is saying no to Katharina because she’s asked him to get her some food. Grumio knows that Petruchio would not want him to get her food, so he’s not going to do it. Simple as that.

I looked up ‘forsooth’, by the way, just to know officially what it means. I got ‘in truth, certainly, truly, and indeed.’

No, no, indeed.

No, no, certainly.

No, no, truly.

No, no, in truth.

I suppose all of them work to one degree or another, though I think I prefer No, no, indeed. How about you?

Forsooth, that looks pretty good. I don't know what it is, but it looks pretty good. Do you think Katharina would be interested in that?

 

Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable

 beauty,-- I pray you, tell me if this be the

lady of the house, for I never  saw her: I would be

loth to cast away my speech; for, besides that it 

is excellently well penn’d, I have taken great 

pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no 

scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least 

sinister usage.

-Viola

Twelfth Night          Act I, Scene v, Line 169

 

First off, a few notes to help you understand today’s line. Con means learned by heart. Comptible to the least sinister usage means susceptible to unkind treatment.

Context? Okay, if you insist. Viola is a  woman disguised as a man, and she has been sent to Olivia by the Duke of Illyria to try to woo Olivia for the Duke. Viola has just walked in the door of Olivia’s house and the latter is standing there with some of her women in waiting. Viola is trying to figure out which one is Olivia.  

There, now did that help, or did it just confuse you further? Maybe you should go see the play. I’m going to. I’m going all the way to Nashville, TN to see it. What the heck do you think of that?

Yup, this is where I'm going; back to the farm in Tennessee. Okay, so I'm not going there just to see the play; I'm going there to see my daughter. But I am going to see the play as well. And no, I've not taken the time to con the play.

 

If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,

More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may.

This fester’d joint cut off, the rest rest sound;

This let alone will all the rest confound.

 

-Duke of York

King Richard the Second            Act V, Scene iii, Line 83

 

We're near the end of the play, and Bolingbroke has now supplanted Richard the Second. So what we have here is the Duke of York advising Bolingbroke/King Henry IV to have the Duke of Aumerle executed for treason. It should be noted that the Duke of York is the father of the Duke of Aumerle, so that's a bit cold. The mother of Aumerle is about to enter the scene to beg for the life of her son.

A couple of things:

This passage and, for the most part, this scene is written in rhyme. I’m not sure why Will gets into rhyme from time to time, but he sure does.

This particular four line passage sounds a bit like it might be Yoda speaking. Again read it, and you’ll what I mean hopefully see.

 

 

 

Okay, it's not Yoda. But you have to admit that the Nuts has a little bit of a Yoda look about her. Think you, don't?

 

Up Fish-street! Down Saint Magnus’-corner!

 Kill and knock down! Throw them into

 Thames!

-Jack Cade

King Henry VI, Part II            Act IV, Scene 8, Line 1

 

Yup, first line of the scene. I think I’ll give you the setting as it’s stated in the play

SCENE VIII

Southwark.

Alarum and retreat. Enter again CADE and all his rabblement.

 

That’s right, Jack Cade enters with his rabblement. There’s a good word, eh?

Jack Cade is some peasant-type guy who claimed to be of royal descent (historians pretty much agree that he wasn’t) who led the common folk in an uprising against the throne, specifically Henry VI. He caused a bunch of trouble and took over parts of London before being vanquished. This scene is towards the end of Jack’s short rebellion. He and his rabblement are in London, but the party’s about to come to an end. A couple pages down the road in Scene X, we’ll find Jack hiding in someone’s garden outside London, and he meets his demise there between the tomatoes and the arugula.

But for now, he’s enjoying having the crowd, I should say rabblement, at his command.

Here you go. That top pic is St. Magnus the Martyr Church, and the bottom one is looking across the street from the church up Fish St. towards the Fire of London Monument. How about that? This might be the spot Jack Cade was talking about, albeit looking a little different than it did in Jack's time.

These pics, by the way, are compliments of Google Maps. I usually use my own pics, but today I decided to JUST USE THE GOOGLE. Hmmmm, wonder where I got that idea?