Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

What’s he comes here?

 King

All’s Well That Ends Well         Act I, Scene ii, Line 18

Well, there are several answers I could give to What’s he comes here?

Considering that it’s just about seven a.m., and Walker Peter’s got to be in to work at seven, I believe this is he that I hear coming down the hall.

Or, considering that it’s just about seven a.m., and the electronic picture frame turns on automatically at seven, I can see that it’s nephews John and Caleb showing up on the frame here in my living room all the way from Japan.

Or, more to the point, seeing that it’s the king asking the question, I can read ahead and tell you that the answer is Betram, Lafeu, and Parolles.

Which leads me to another discussion.

I went to Whitlock’s Book Barn yesterday, and I picked up yet one more book on Shakespeare; this one entitled Discovering Shakespeare by Edward Holmes. It’s a book about the conjecture that a fellow named Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford wrote Shakespeare, and it’s based on the premise that de Vere had all these different experiences that the fellow who wrote these plays might have had: experiences that fit in very neatly to the plays, and experiences that Will never could have had.

The first play discussed in the book is, you guessed it, All’s Well That Ends Well. It explains who all these people in the play were in real life and the experiences that de Vere had with them (Bertram, by the way, is Edward de Vere according to Mr. Holmes).

Now, this is the second book I’ve got that works this same premise. Each of them go into the historical facts and characters of de Vere’s life (a life, unlike Will’s, that was quite well documented), but here’s the thing: neither of the books explains how de Vere’s words ended up with William Shakespeare as the listed author (granted that I’m only in chapter two of this new book, but I’ll keep you posted). They both seem to assume that it must’ve been de Vere as the author. But then, what about William Shakespeare? Who was he?

Whilst, as we well know, there is very little documented detail of Will’s life, we do in fact know that he existed and that he was given credit as the author. It is, however, the exponentially more documented detail of de Vere’s life that makes the arguments of these two authors so persuasive. Edward de Vere’s life fits so very well into the detail of the plays. But again, how do de Vere’s words end up credited as Shakespeare’s?

I’m hoping that Mr. Holmes comes up with some viable answer to this question. Perhaps Edward de Vere and William Shakespeare were friends who would meet and share stories of their lives over glasses of ale? And perhaps de Vere did a lot more sharing? This, at least, would still give Will authorship. 

Or perhaps, unlike Severus Snape, we’ll just

never

knooowwww.

 

The heck with this Snape guy, how about when my next treat will be showing up? 

Do we know that?  

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.

Pointz

King Henry the Fourth Part I Act I, Scene ii, Line 153

All I’m going to look at this morning is I prithee. What does it mean? It’s a bastardization of I pray thee, and so it means, very simply, please. That’s right: please.

Sir John, please, leave the prince and me alone.

Perhaps you already knew that? If you did, I apologize for wasting your time. And if you didn’t, well, now you do. 

I prithee, Mojo, a penny for your thoughts. 

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with

My daughter?

Baptista

The Taming of the Shrew         Act II, Scene i, Line 18

This scene is the first meeting of Petruchio (the Tamer) and Katharina (the Shrew). Petruchio has come to tell Baptista (Katharina’s father) that he plans to marry her, so Baptista brings her in and then leaves to two alone to get acquainted. They’ve just spent a page going back and forth, and now Baptista comes back in to see how they’ve gotten along. How speed you simply means how’d you make out? Even though Katharina has given Petruchio nothing but sass, he replies, How but well, sir? How but well? It were impossible I should speed amiss. 

This Petruchio is indeed an interesting fellow.

Hey Mr. Blagys, I think this guy could play Petruchio; he's pretty interesting.

That guy has a name, Mojo: it's Jeff. And yes, he is very interesting. 

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Thrice-noble Suffolk, ‘tis resolutely spoke.

Queen Margaret

 

King Henry the Sixth Part II  Act III, Scene i, Line 266

Suffolk is not just noble, he’s three times noble. That’s a lot of noble. Yes, quite a bit of noble. She couldn’t have gotten by with just noble Suffolk? Though, I guess if you’re going to amplify it, thrice noble Suffolk sounds better than doubly noble Suffolk. Right?

And how about resolutely, do we want to get into resolutely. 

NO!!

Okay, I guess not.

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

Pat, pat; and here’s a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal.

Peter Quince

A Midsummer Night’s Dream   Act III, Scene i, Line 2

Pat, pat is a relatively meaningless expression here. It could be replaced with Okay, or Now then, or absolutely nothing. And marvellous with two L’s, well that’s the way it’s spelt in my book. I suppose I should check my Folio, and perhaps I’ll do that later when I’m downstairs.

So here we have Peter Quince (yes, it only has Quince without a first name in my book, but, well, his name is Peter) talking to the rest of the guys as they meet in the forest to rehearse. The first line of the scene is Bottom asking Are we all here. Bottom likes to get as many lines as he can in this play and in the play within the play.

And, yes, it’s snowing again (here in Cheshire, not in the play). And it snowed, and it snowed…and it snowed.

That’s a Donner party reference. I don’t think that we’re quite at Donner party status yet. 

In any event (another fairly meaningless sentence starter), I’m downstairs now, and the FF has it as marvailous. Well, that’s interesting. I’m thinking that my book is just a typo. And now I've checked my E.G. Harrison Shakespeare compilation and it’s marvelous, as it should be. So I’m going to take this morning’s marvellous as a garden variety typo. What the heck.

  

Ahh, this guy is just going on and on. I'm thinking about going outside for a smoke, Mrs. Blagys. Care to join me?

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

 

Come, come, you froward and unable worms!

My mind hath been as big as one of yours,

My heart as great; my reason, haply, more,

To bandy word for word and frown for frown:

But now I see our lances are but straws;

Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,-

That seeming to be, most , which we indeed least are.  

 

Katharina

 

The Taming Of The Shrew   Act V, Scene ii, Line 76

Katharina is the titular shrew in the play. We are at the very end of the play, and it certainly appears that she has been tamed. But has she?

I think that this is a much more complicated play than it appears to be. Taken on face value it appears that Kate has become completely subservient to her husband. Today’s Line is taken from Kate’s speech, here near the very end of the play. I might say that you should read the whole speech before passing judgement, but in fact I think you’d have to read/hear/see the entire play.

And I don’t see that happening right now. Even so, I’m tempted to give you Katharina’s whole speech, because it might open your mind a little bit. Oh, what the heck; here you go.

There are three couples in this scene and Petruchio, Katharina’s husband, has bade her tell the other two women what duty they owe their lords and husbands. Katharina is addressing the women when she speaks.

Fie, fie! Unknit that threatening and unkind brow:

And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,

To wound thy lord, thy kind, thy governor:

(okay, this isn’t sounding good)

It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads;

Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds;

And in no sense is meet or amiable.

(that’s a little better?)

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,

Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;

And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty

Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.

(interesting)

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,

Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,

And for thy maintenance, commits his body

To painful labour both by sea and land,

To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,

Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;

(sounding a little better, a little more reasonable)

And craves no other tribute at thy hands

But love, fair looks, and true obedience,-

Too little for such great a debt.

(again, not too unreasonable; you can’t forget the times that this takes place in)

Such duty as the subject owes the prince,

Even such a woman oweth to her husband;

And when she is forward, peevish, sullen, sour,

And not obedient to his honest will,

What is she but a contending rebel,

And graceless traitor to his loving lord?

I am ashamed that women are so simple

To offer war, where they should kneel for peace;

Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,

When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.

Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth

Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,

But that our soft conditions and our hearts

Should well agree with our external parts?

Come, come, you froward and unable worms!

My mind hath been as big as one of yours,

My heart as great; my reason, haply, more,

To bandy word for word and frown for frown:

But now I see our lances are but straws;

Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,-

That seeming to be, most , which we indeed least are. 

Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,

And place your hands below your husbands foot:

In token of which duty, if he please,

My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

 

And Petruchio’s response to Katharina’s speech?

Why, there’s a wench!- Come on and kiss me, Kate.

So, is your mind open enough to view this as something deserving of discussion, or am I just a jingoistic rogue to think that it even deserves a second look?

You tell me.

From the looks on their faces, I believe it's gonna be jingoistic rogue, Mr. Blagys.

 

Today’s Totally Random Lines

 

They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as thy did in the golden world.

 

Charles

As You Like It        Act I, Scene i, Line 119

Who is Charles talking about? He’s talking about the old duke who has been banished by his younger brother, the new duke. Like many of Will’s plays, we have two parallel stories/relationships going on. The first is brothers Olando and Oliver who open this scene in disagreement, and the second is these two dukes that Charles is talking about in Today’s Lines.

I suppose there are a few things we could take note of in Charles’s lines, the forest of Arden or perhaps the reference to Robin Hood, but I’m going to key in on his last line about the men who flock to the duke. Apparently they like to 

fleet the time carelessly, as thy did in the golden world.

First of all, fleet? Well, fleet is a common noun and/or adjective, but you don’t see it used much as a verb these days. MW Online has three meanings of the verb fleet: to fade away, vanish, or flow (that last one is labeled as archaic); to fly swiftly (like fleeting across the sky – that one is not so uncommon); or to drift (that one is considered obsolete). And my Shakespeare online glossary tells me that fleet here means to idle away or while away. That last one seems to be most like the MW Online first one.

And what about the golden world? I guess you can imagine that to be whatever you want it to, but any way you look at it, it seems good since we’re calling it golden.

I think I’ll leave you with that thought about whiling away the time (in a good sense, of course):

Fleeting the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.

For me, it brings to mind the Scarecrow, whiling away the hours, conferring with the flowers...

 The Wizard Of Oz (1939) If I only had a Brain

 

 

Mojo really enjoyed watching the Scarecrow’s song.