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Cobbe Portrait of William Shakespeare, ca. 1610, Artist unknown
When Madhav Sharma (MS) learnt on a visit from UK in
Jan 2014, about the Shakespeare Festival that KRG was putting on for the 450th
Birth Anniversary, he eagerly agreed to accept the invitation to participate. Ideas that had been brewing in
his mind ever since Indira Outcalt urged him to tell the story of his own life, came together in a one-man play, ‘Bharat, Blighty & The Bard – Shakespeare For Everyone’ which was co-devised with Miranda Lapworth. The result is a play that uniquely unites the twin
lives of MS and WS.
Bharat, Blighty & the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone, Flyer
It took a good deal of lobbying by MS with the British
Council in India & UK, and with the co-operation and support of Priti Patel MP (appointed by Prime Minister David Cameron as Champion, Indian Diaspora UK) and the Deputy High Commissioner of India in London (Dr Virander Paul), and sponsors such as TATA, The Backstage Trust, The Promotion of English Trust and various individuals, including members of The Royal Shakespeare Company and The National Theatre, before the trip of MS and Miranda Lapworth (Director and Co-Creator who has also fulfilled several of the functions of designer, publicist and general dogsbody) could fructify.
KRG was the original sponsor in India.
KRG was the original sponsor in India.
Madhav Sharma in his one-man play Bharat, Blighty and the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone
Thus on Apr 21 the world premiere of Bharat, Blighty & the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone was held
in Fort Kochi at David Hall. It lasted 90 minutes, but scarcely anyone could draw
hiser gaze away from MS, performing the words
of WS to illuminate the sequence of remarkable events that brought MS to the
Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London, the womb and nurturing ground of great
actors on the London stage. WS was front and centre, his plays and sonnets casting
his all-embracing gaze on the life we mortals lead.
The audience watches Madhav Sharma
To read more click below …
Partial Account of the Shakespeare Festival on his 450th Birth Anniversary
Bharat, Blighty & the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone
by Madhav Sharma – Opening Ceremony Apr 21, 2014
by Madhav Sharma – Opening Ceremony Apr 21, 2014
Madhav Sharma expressed great enthusiasm to
participate in the Shakespeare Festival when he first heard of it during a
visit in Jan 2014. Over dinner with Joe and KumKum the first glimmer of his
plans were laid. He had much to
contribute by his imaginative one-man play entwining the life of William
Shakespeare with his own journey from India as a boy to becoming an actor, first
with the Geoffrey Kendal’s Shakespeareana International Theatre Company, and then training at the
Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) in London. In a record short time, that involved raising the financial backing, creating the script, gathering props and costume, designing the programme etc etc and, of course, rehearsing, the play was ready for its world premiere in David Hall, Fort Kochi, on Apr 21, 2014 as part of the Opening Ceremony. Madhav credits one of the KRG founders, Indira Outcalt, for having inspired him to come
up with a dramatic account of his life story. We are glad the Shakespeare
Festival at Fort Kochi became the final push to complete the work.
Madhav began the play by using a passage
attributing to Shakespeare very many of the common expressions we use in modern
times. It is taken from a book titled Enthusiasms
(Jonathan Cape, 1983), by the drama critic Bernard Levin of the NY Times.
Quoting Shakespeare's expressions and words – Bernard Levin (click to enlarge)
Here are some of the words invented by Shakespeare:
Words coined by Shakespeare
A word of WS that Joe loves is the verbal form of 'incarnadine' first used in Macbeth Act 2, Sc.2, line 60: This my Hand will rather The multitudinous Seas incarnardine, Making the Greene, one Red.
Reading WS in his youth, Madhav knew he had to get to the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon. How he did so is a thrilling story and MS takes you with him on his journey through life starting with his schooling in India.
Reading WS in his youth, Madhav knew he had to get to the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon. How he did so is a thrilling story and MS takes you with him on his journey through life starting with his schooling in India.
A Map of Phrases Original to Shakespeare (click to enlarge)
There are many parallels that MS dwells upon between his coming as an outsider to the London theatre and WS making his way from a Warwickshire village to the London stage.
Madhav Sharma (MS) collected Latin mottos of all the institutions which inspired him as he traversed schools and colleges from South to East to West in India.
His father encouraged his interest in Shakespeare, we are told.
Later a British professor in India recognised his talent for acting and put him to work in plays.
After college
MS got his first job in a bookshop in Bombay.
Here is a pic of MS in the famous Balcony Scene of Romeo and Juliet:
But soft, what light though yonder window breaks?
MS spoke humorously of his own dalliance with love which involved Sonnet 18:
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
…
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
The question may be asked: was WS soured by his own experience with a woman? Sonnet 116 speaks about lovers' quarrels with the famous lines
..... Love is not love
Which
alters when it alteration finds,
WS thought his love as being rare. In Bombay MS encountered an actor from Geoffrey Kendal’s Shakespeareana International Theatre Company.
Soon he joined the company, and became a full-fledged member and went on a tour of India and the Far-East.
Those were exciting times.
By these essays into acting, MS was learning his craft, just as
WS was learning his craft in London. Chance events culminate in MS making it to London, and securing admission in RADA, the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art.
As MS was making his mark, so was WS back in 1592
at age 28. The Oxbridge-educated
poets and dramatists of the time became envious of him, but perhaps not Ben Jonson who generously wrote two famous poems as a preface to the First Folio, one with the well-known line:
He was not of an age, but for all time!
This is now the fourth age of Shakespeare.
In 1997 the modern Globe, was rebuilt close to the actual site to resemble the original theatre, by the Shakespeare Globe Trust founded by Sam Wanamaker
When WS reached his fifth stage he had made a name,
and become the favourite dramatist of Elizabeth I and James I. He is now a man of property.
William Shakespeare's house in Stratford-upon-Avon
But his son, Hamnet, died at age eleven, and it left a grievous mark on his father, WS.
WS died in Stratford-on-Avon at the age of
fifty-two, only fifty-two! We do not know what he died of.
In Trinity Church at Stratford where WS is buried, the lines from Cymbeline will come to mind:
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor
the furious winter's rages;
Shakespeare's Grave in Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon
It's remarkable that WS never went through the sixth and seventh ages outlined in Jaques' speech, but knew, the human condition in all its seven stages.
The legacy of Will, will endure to the last syllable of recorded time,
which is why, MS said, we are here celebrating his 450th birth anniversary.
Passages from Shakespeare used in the one-man play Bharat, Blighty & the Bard
Shakespearean Amusement:
Bernard Levin.
On
Quoting Shakespeare
If you cannot understand my argument, and
declare ``It's Greek to me'', you are quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be
more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you recall
your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in
anger; if your wish is farther to the thought; if your lost property has
vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused
to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast
and loose, if you have been tongue-tied, a tower of strength, hoodwinked or in
a pickle, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted
on fair play, slept not one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (on your
lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold
comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days or lived in a
fool's paradise -why, be that as it may, the more fool you , for it is a
foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting
Shakespeare; if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if
you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you
believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your
own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect
foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme
or reason, then - to give the devil his due - if the truth were known (for
surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you
bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a
door-nail, if you think I am an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate,
a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then - by Jove! O
Lord! Tut tut! For goodness' sake! What the dickens! But me no buts! - it is
all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare. – Bernard Levin
The Merry Wives Of Windsor: Act IV Sc. I - Sir Hugh Evans, William
Page.
EVANS: Peace
your tattlings! What is ‘fair,’ William?
WILLIAM:
‘Pulcher’
MISTRESS QUICKLY:
Polecats? There are fairer things
than polecats, sure.
EVANS:
You are a very simplicity ‘oman.
I pray you peace. What is
‘lapis,’ William?
WILLIAM:
A stone.
EVANS: And
what is ‘a stone,’ William?
WILLIAM:
A pebble.
EVANS: No,
it is ‘lapis.’ I pray you, remember in
your prain.
WILLIAM:
‘Lapis.’
EVANS: That
is a good William. What is he, William,
that does lend articles?
WILLIAM:
Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and he thus declined: ‘Singularities, nominative, hic, haec, hoc.’
EVANS:
‘Nominativo, hig, hag, hog,’ pray your mark; ‘gentivo, huius.’ What is your accusative case?
WILLIAM: ‘Accusativo,
hinc’ – [Faltering]
EVANS: I
pray you, have your remembrance, child, accusative, ‘hing, hang, hog.’
As You Like It: Act II Sc.
vii - Jaques.
JAQUES
All
the world's a stage,
And
all the men and women merely players:
They
have their exits and their entrances;
And
one man in his time plays many parts,
His
acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling
and puking in the nurse's arms.
And
then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And
shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly
to school. And then the lover,
Sighing
like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made
to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full
of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous
in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking
the bubble reputation
Even
in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In
fair round belly with good capon lined,
With
eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full
of wise saws and modern instances;
And
so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into
the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With
spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His
youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For
his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning
again toward childish treble, pipes
And
whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That
ends this strange eventful history,
Is
second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans
teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Henry VI Part 3: Act I Sc. iv - York.
as I have seen a
swan
With
bootless labour swim against the tide
And
spend her strength with over-matching waves.
Love’s Labours’ Lost: Act V Sc. i - Holofernes.
HOLOFERNES
He
draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer
than
the staple of his argument.
Henry V: Act 1 Prologue - Chorus.
A
kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And
monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then
should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume
the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash'd
in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch
for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
The
flat unraised spirits that have dared
On
this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So
great an object: can this cockpit hold
The
vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within
this wooden O the very casques
That
did affright the air at Agincourt?
O,
pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest
in little place a million;
And
let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On
your imaginary forces work.
Suppose
within the girdle of these walls
Are
now confined two mighty monarchies,
Whose
high upreared and abutting fronts
The
perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
Piece
out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into
a thousand parts divide on man,
And
make imaginary puissance;
Think
when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing
their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth;
For
'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry
them here and there; jumping o'er times,
Turning
the accomplishment of many years
Into
an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit
me Chorus to this history;
Who
prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently
to hear, kindly to judge, our play.
All’s Well That Ends Well: Act 1 Sc. iii - Countess, Clown.
COUNTESS
Tell
me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
CLOWN
My
poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on
by
the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.
Romeo and Juliet: Act II Sc. ii - Romeo, Juliet.
ROMEO
He
jests at scars that never felt a wound.
JULIET
appears above at a window
But,
soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It
is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise,
fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who
is already sick and pale with grief,
That
thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be
not her maid, since she is envious;
Her
vestal livery is but sick and green
And
none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It
is my lady, O, it is my love!
O,
that she knew she were!
She
speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her
eye discourses; I will answer it.
I
am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two
of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having
some business, do entreat her eyes
To
twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What
if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The
brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As
daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would
through the airy region stream so bright
That
birds would sing and think it were not night.
See,
how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O,
that I were a glove upon that hand,
That
I might touch that cheek!
…
JULIET
O
Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny
thy father and refuse thy name;
Or,
if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And
I'll no longer be a Capulet.
ROMEO
[Aside]
Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
JULIET
'Tis
but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou
art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's
Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor
arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging
to a man. O, be some other name!
What's
in a name? that which we call a rose
By
any other name would smell as sweet;
So
Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain
that dear perfection which he owes
Without
that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And
for that name which is no part of thee
Take
all myself.
…
JULIET
O,
swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That
monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest
that thy love prove likewise variable.
ROMEO
What
shall I swear by?
JULIET
Do
not swear at all;
Or,
if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which
is the god of my idolatry,
And
I'll believe thee.
ROMEO
If
my heart's dear love--
JULIET
Well,
do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I
have no joy of this contract to-night:
It
is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
Too
like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere
one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
This
bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May
prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good
night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come
to thy heart as that within my breast!
ROMEO
O,
wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
JULIET
What
satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
ROMEO
The
exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
JULIET
I
gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
And
yet I would it were to give again.
ROMEO
Wouldst
thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
JULIET
But
to be frank, and give it thee again.
And
yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My
bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My
love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The
more I have, for both are infinite.
Sonnet 18.
Shall
I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou
art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough
winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And
summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime
too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And
often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And
every fair from fair sometime declines,
By
chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But
thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor
lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor
shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When
in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So
long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So
long lives this and this gives life to thee.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Act V Sc. i - Bottom.
PYRAMUS
Sweet
Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I
thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
For,
by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,
I
trust to take of truest Thisby sight.
But
stay, O spite!
But
mark, poor knight,
What
dreadful dole is here!
Eyes,
do you see?
How
can it be?
O
dainty duck! O dear!
Thy
mantle good,
What,
stain'd with blood!
Approach,
ye Furies fell!
O
Fates, come, come,
Cut
thread and thrum;
Quail,
crush, conclude, and quell!
…
O
wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?
Since
lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear:
Which
is--no, no--which was the fairest dame
That
lived, that loved, that liked, that look'd
with
cheer.
Come,
tears, confound;
Out,
sword, and wound
The
pap of Pyramus;
Ay,
that left pap,
Where
heart doth hop:
Stabs
himself
Thus
die I, thus, thus, thus.
Now
am I dead,
Now
am I fled;
My
soul is in the sky:
Tongue,
lose thy light;
Moon
take thy flight:
Upon Westminster Bridge
Sept. 3, 1802
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples
lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless
air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour valley, rock, or
hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
(William Wordsworth)
All’s Well That Ends Well: Act II Sc. iii - Parolles.
A
young man married is a man that's marr'd:
Therefore
away, and leave her bravely; go:
The
king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so.
The Winter’s Tale: Act II Sc. ii - Paulina.
Commend
my best obedience to the queen:
If
she dares trust me with her little babe,
I'll
show't the king and undertake to be
Her
advocate to the loud'st. We do not know
How
he may soften at the sight o' the child:
The
silence often of pure innocence
Persuades
when speaking fails.
Julius Caesar: Act IV Sc. iii - Brutus.
There
is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which,
taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted,
all the voyage of their life
Is
bound in shallows and in miseries.
On
such a full sea are we now afloat;
And
we must take the current when it serves,
Or
lose our ventures.
Much Ado About Nothing: Act 1 Sc. i - Benedick, Beatrice.
BENEDICK
Then
is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I
am
loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I
would
I could find in my heart that I had not a hard
heart;
for, truly, I love none.
BEATRICE
A
dear happiness to women: they would else have
been
troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God
and
my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I
had
rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man
swear
he loves me.
Twelfth Night: Act II Sc. iii - Sir Andrew Aguecheek.
SIR
ANDREW
I
was adored once too.
Richard II: Act II Sc. i - John of Gaunt.
This
other Eden, demi-paradise,
This
fortress built by Nature for herself
Against
infection and the hand of war,
This
happy breed of men, this little world,
This
precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which
serves it in the office of a wall,
Or
as a moat defensive to a house,
Against
the envy of less happier lands,
This
blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This
nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear'd
by their breed and famous by their birth,
Renowned
for their deeds as far from home,
Richard II: Act II Sc. iii - Bolingbroke.
HENRY
BOLINGBROKE
I
thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
I
count myself in nothing else so happy
As
in a soul remembering my good friends;
The Merchant of Venice: Act 1 Sc. iii – Shylock.
SHYLOCK
Signior
Antonio, many a time and oft
In
the Rialto you have rated me
About
my moneys and my usances:
Still
have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For
sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
You
call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And
spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And
all for use of that which is mine own.
Well
then, it now appears you need my help:
Go
to, then; you come to me, and you say
'Shylock,
we would have moneys:' you say so;
You,
that did void your rheum upon my beard
And
foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over
your threshold: moneys is your suit
What
should I say to you? Should I not say
'Hath
a dog money? is it possible
A
cur can lend three thousand ducats?' Or
Shall
I bend low and in a bondman's key,
With
bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this;
'Fair
sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You
spurn'd me such a day; another time
You
call'd me dog; and for these courtesies
I'll
lend you thus much moneys'?
The Merchant of Venice: Act II Sc. i - Prince of Morocco.
Mislike
me not for my complexion,
The
shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
To
whom I am a neighbour and near bred.
Bring
me the fairest creature northward born,
Where
Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And
let us make incision for your love,
To
prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I
tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
Hath
fear'd the valiant: by my love I swear
The
best-regarded virgins of our clime
Have
loved it too: I would not change this hue,
Except
to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Hamlet: Act 1 Sc. iii - Polonius.
This
above all: to thine ownself be true,
And
it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou
canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell:
my blessing season this in thee!
Greene’s Groat’s Worth of Wit, Robert Greene.
"an
vpstart Crow, beautified with our feathers, that with his Tygers hart wrapt in
a Players hyde, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blanke verse as
the best of you: and being an absolute Iohannes fac totum, is in his owne
conceit the onely Shake-scene in a countrey."
Julius Caesar: Act II Sc. i - Brutus.
BRUTUS
It
must be by his death: and for my part,
I
know no personal cause to spurn at him,
But
for the general. He would be crown'd:
How
that might change his nature, there's the question.
It
is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
And
that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;--
And
then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
That
at his will he may do danger with.
The
abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Remorse
from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar,
I
have not known when his affections sway'd
More
than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,
That
lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
Whereto
the climber-upward turns his face;
But
when he once attains the upmost round.
He
then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks
in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By
which he did ascend. So Caesar may.
Then,
lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
Will
bear no colour for the thing he is,
Fashion
it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would
run to these and these extremities:
And
therefore think him as a serpent's egg
Which,
hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous,
And
kill him in the shell.
The Merchant of Venice: Act IV Sc. i - Portia.
PORTIA
The
quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It
droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon
the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It
blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis
mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The
throned monarch better than his crown;
His
sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The
attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein
doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But
mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It
is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It
is an attribute to God himself;
And
earthly power doth then show likest God's
When
mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though
justice be thy plea, consider this,
That,
in the course of justice, none of us
Should
see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And
that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The
deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To
mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which
if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must
needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
SHYLOCK
My
deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
The
penalty and forfeit of my bond.
King Lear: Act V Sc. iii - King Lear.
Come,
let's away to prison:
We
two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:
When
thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,
And
ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,
And
pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At
gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk
of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
Who
loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
And
take upon's the mystery of things,
As
if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,
In
a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That
ebb and flow by the moon.
…
Upon
such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
The
gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee?
He
that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,
And
fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes;
The
good-years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
Ere
they shall make us weep: we'll see 'em starve
first.
Cymbeline: Act IV Sc. ii - Guiderius, Arviragus.
GUIDERIUS
Fear
no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor
the furious winter's rages;
Thou
thy worldly task hast done,
Home
art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden
lads and girls all must,
As
chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
ARVIRAGUS
Fear
no more the frown o' the great;
Thou
art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care
no more to clothe and eat;
To
thee the reed is as the oak:
The
sceptre, learning, physic, must
All
follow this, and come to dust.
GUIDERIUS
Fear
no more the lightning flash,
ARVIRAGUS
Nor
the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
GUIDERIUS
Fear
not slander, censure rash;
ARVIRAGUS
Thou
hast finish'd joy and moan:
GUIDERIUS
ARVIRAGUS
All
lovers young, all lovers must
Consign
to thee, and come to dust.
GUIDERIUS
No
exorciser harm thee!
ARVIRAGUS
Nor
no witchcraft charm thee!
GUIDERIUS
Ghost
unlaid forbear thee!
ARVIRAGUS
Nothing
ill come near thee!
GUIDERIUS
ARVIRAGUS
Quiet
consummation have;
And
renowned be thy grave!
Hamlet: Act III Sc. i - Hamlet.
HAMLET
To
be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether
'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The
slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or
to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And
by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No
more; and by a sleep to say we end
The
heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That
flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly
to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To
sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For
in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When
we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must
give us pause: there's the respect
That
makes calamity of so long life;
For
who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The
oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The
pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The
insolence of office and the spurns
That
patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When
he himself might his quietus make
With
a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To
grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But
that the dread of something after death,
The
undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No
traveller returns, puzzles the will
And
makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than
fly to others that we know not of?
Thus
conscience does make cowards of us all;
And
thus the native hue of resolution
Is
sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And
enterprises of great pith and moment
With
this regard their currents turn awry,
And
lose the name of action.
King Lear: Act IV Sc. vii - King Lear.
Pray,
do not mock me:
I
am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore
and upward, not an hour more nor less;
And,
to deal plainly,
I
fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Methinks
I should know you, and know this man;
Yet
I am doubtful for I am mainly ignorant
What
place this is; and all the skill I have
Remembers
not these garments; nor I know not
Where
I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
The Tempest: Act IV Sc. i - Prospero.
PROSPERO
….
be cheerful, sir.
Our
revels now are ended. These our actors,
As
I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are
melted into air, into thin air:
And,
like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The
cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The
solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Ye
all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And,
like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave
not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As
dreams are made on, and our little life
Is
rounded with a sleep.
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