Share your favorite bits and pieces from the man. I'll start: From Midsummer Night's Dream (3.2. 65-73): "HERMIA O, once tell true; tell true, even for my sake Durst thou have looked upon him being awake, And hast thou killed him sleeping? O brave touch! Could not a worm, and adder do so much?-- An adder did it, for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou serpent, adder never stung."
And just to add; from The Merchant of Venice (2.6. 8-19).
"GRAZIANO That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chasèd than enjoyed.
How like a younger or a prodigal
The scarfèd bark puts from her native bay,
Hugged and embracèd by the strumpet wind;
How like the prodigal doth she return
With overweathered ribs and raggèd sails,
Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind!"
Love the first meeting of Rosalind/Ganymede and Orlando in Arden:
As You Like It (3.2. 373-391)
ORLANDO.
I am he that is so love-shaked. I pray you tell me your remedy.
ROSALIND.
There is none of my uncle's marks upon you. He taught me how to know a man in love, in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
ORLANDO.
What were his marks?
ROSALIND.
A lean cheek, which have not; a blue eye and sunken, which you have not; and unquestionable spirit, which you have not; a beard neglected, which you have not - but I pardon you for that, for simply your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue. Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and everything about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But you are no such man. You are rather point-device in your accouterments, as loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other.
Anonymous :
19 hours ago :
No.12717
>>12718
>>12717
That was a great touch that adds a lot to the charm of the website.
I'm not well read in Shakespeare so this isn't a deep cut, but I love The Tempest, and this famous monologue especially (as well as Caliban's "the isle is full of noises).
I'm so fond of it I put it at the bottom of archived threads on this website :)
>>12717
I'm not well read in Shakespeare so this isn't a deep cut, but I love The Tempest, and this famous monologue especially (as well as Caliban's "the isle is full of noises).
I'm so fond of it I put it at the bottom of archived threads on this website :)
That was a great touch that adds a lot to the charm of the website.
Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty;
Like one that stands upon a promontory,
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye,
And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way:
So do I wish the crown, being so far off;
And so I chide the means that keeps me from it;
And so I say, I'll cut the causes off,
Flattering me with impossibilities.
My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard;
What other pleasure can the world afford?
I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,
And deck my body in gay ornaments,
And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
O miserable thought! and more unlikely
Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns!
Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb:
And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe,
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size;
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
That carries no impression like the dam.
And am I then a man to be beloved?
O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,
But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such
As are of better person than myself,
I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell,
Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head
Be round impaled with a glorious crown.
AARON
'Zounds, ye whore! is black so base a hue?
Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
DEMETRIUS
Villain, what hast thou done?
AARON
That which thou canst not undo.
CHIRON
Thou hast undone our mother.
AARON
Villain, I have done thy mother.