# Happy Birthday, Willy Shakes! **URL:** \ **Category:** Cafe Society\ **Created:** [April 23, 2005, 8:29pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792 "2005-04-23T20:29:18Z")\ **Posts on this page:** 6\ **Page:** 1
**Author:** ![Tracy\_Lord](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/t/ec9cab/32.png) [@Tracy\_Lord](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Tracy_Lord)\ **Post date:** [April 23, 2005, 8:29pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792/1 "2005-04-23T20:29:18Z")
As far as we know, today is William Shakespeare’s 441st birthday. HUZZAH! _confetti_ J’propose we stage a Favorite Lines/Speeches/Dialogue-fest from the canon, of which I will be glad to begin: > [@Hamlet](#): > > I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation > prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king > and queen moult no feather. I have of late – but > wherefore I know not – lost all my mirth, forgone all > custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily > with my disposition that this goodly frame, the > earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most > excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave > o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted > with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to > me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. > What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! > how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how > express and admirable! in action how like an angel! > in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the > world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, > what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not > me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling > you seem to say so. (quoting dialogue – ah, too unwieldy.) _Beatrice_: Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her! _Benedick_: Is there any way to show such friendship? _Beatrice_: A very even way, but no such friend. _Benedick_: May a man do it? _Beatrice_: It is a man’s office, but not yours. _Benedick_:I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange? ---
**Author:** ![Fretful\_Porpentine](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/fretful_porpentine/32/2873_2.png) [@Fretful\_Porpentine](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Fretful_Porpentine)\ **Post date:** [April 23, 2005, 10:09pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792/2 "2005-04-23T22:09:45Z")
_Antony and Cleopatra_, IV. xiv. > [@](#): > > MARK ANTONY > Eros, thou yet behold’st me? > > EROS > Ay, noble lord. > > MARK ANTONY > Sometimes we see a cloud that’s dragonish; > A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, > A tower’d citadel, a pendent rock, > A forked mountain, or blue promontory > With trees upon’t, that nod unto the world, > And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen > these signs; > They are black vesper’s pageants. > > EROS > Ay, my lord, > > MARK ANTONY > That which is now a horse, even with a thought > The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, > As water is in water. > > EROS > It does, my lord. > > MARK ANTONY > My good knave Eros, now thy captain is > Even such a body: here I am Antony: > Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. > I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,– > Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; > Which whilst it was mine had annex’d unto’t > A million more, now lost,–she, Eros, has > Pack’d cards with Caesar, and false-play’d my glory > Unto an enemy’s triumph. > Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us > Ourselves to end ourselves. ---
**Author:** ![pseudotriton\_ruber\_ruber](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/p/a9a28c/32.png) [@pseudotriton\_ruber\_ruber](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/pseudotriton_ruber_ruber)\ **Post date:** [April 23, 2005, 10:22pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792/3 "2005-04-23T22:22:51Z")
HAMLET I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. ---
**Author:** ![Katisha](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/k/bcef8e/32.png) [@Katisha](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Katisha)\ **Post date:** [April 23, 2005, 10:28pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792/4 "2005-04-23T22:28:01Z")
Oh, these are always such tricky threads, because there’s truly an embarrassment of riches to post in them. Instead of going with one of my better-known favorites, I’ll start off with a really cool dialogue from a play that doesn’t get nearly enough love – _King John._ This is from Act V scene vii, and John is dying of poison. > [@](#): > > KING JOHN > Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room, > It would not out at windows nor at doors. > There is so hot a summer in my bosom > That all my bowels crumble up to dust. > I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen > Upon a parchment, and against this fire > Do I shrink up. > > PRINCE HENRY > How fares your majesty? > > KING JOHN > Poisoned – ill fare! Dead, forsook, cast off, > And none of you will bid the winter come > To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, > Nor let my kingdom’s rivers take their course > Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the north > To make his bleak winds kiss my parchèd lips > And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much, > I beg cold comfort, and you are so strait > And so ingrateful, you deny me that. > > PRINCE HENRY > O that there were some virtue in my tears > That might relieve you! > > KING JOHN > The salt in them is hot. > Within me is a hell, and there the poison > Is as a fiend confined to tyrannize > On unreprievable condemnèd blood. > > _Enter the Bastard Faulconbridge_ > > BASTARD > O, I am scalded with my violent motion > And spleen of speed to see your majesty! > > KING JOHN > O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. > The tackle of my heart is cracked and burned, > And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail > Are turnèd to one thread, one little hair. > My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, > Which holds but till thy news be utterèd, > And then all this thou seest is but a clod > And module of confounded royalty. ---
**Author:** ![Baker](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/b/bb73d2/32.png) [@Baker](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Baker)\ **Post date:** [April 23, 2005, 10:30pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792/5 "2005-04-23T22:30:48Z")
When I was forced to read Shakespeare in high school I hated it. We only read the plays, never saw them performed or acted them ourselves. To me they were dead, dead, dead and I thought they were revered simply because they were old. Years later I saw _Measure for Measure_ on television, and was blown away. It was a riot, with illicit sex, mistaken identities, bawdy jokes, and, best of all, a happy ending! I felt like I’d been cheated in school. So I started reading and watching and now I love Shakespeare. They need to start high school kids off with one of the comedies, with cross dressing and dirty jokes, maybe _Measure for Measure_ or _Twelfth Night_ Then the reading could progress to the serious plays, the tragedies and histories. If I was a teacher of English lit in school and a student whined how Shakespeare had no relevance in today’s world, I’d give them what has become mone of my favorite speeches in all the plays. For all that I like comedy, I would give them the admonitory address of the Duke of Burgundy, to the kings of France and England, in _Henry V_. From Act V, Scene II \*…let it no disgrace me, If I demand, before this royal view, What rub or what impediment there is’ Why that the naked, poor, and mangled Peace, Dear nurse of arts, plenties and joyful births, Should not, in this best garden of the world, Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage? Alas! she hath from France too long been chas’d, And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, Corrupting in it’s own fertility, Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned dies: her hedges even-pleach’d,– Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, … Even so our houses, and ourselves, and children, Have lost, or do not learn, for want of time, The sciencesthat should become our country; But grow, like savages,–as soldiers will, That nothing do but meditate on blood. \* That sounds like the devestation every war, at any time or place, has wrought. You think of kids raised to revenge in refugee camps, or ancient works of art destroyed in Iraq, or on and on and on. ---
**Author:** ![Chronos](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/chronos/32/134_2.png) [@Chronos](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Chronos)\ **Post date:** [April 23, 2005, 10:48pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/happy-birthday-willy-shakes/300792/6 "2005-04-23T22:48:54Z")
_The Tempest_, act V: > [@](#): > > Prospero: > Ye elves of hill, brook, standing lake and grove > And ye that on the sands with printless foot > Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and who flee him > When he comes back, ye demi-puppets that > By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make > Whereof the ewe bites not. And ye whose pass-time > Is to make the midnight mushrooms that rejoice > To hear the solemn curfew. By whose aid, > Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimmed > The noontide Sun, called forth the mutinous winds > And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault > Set roaring war. The strong-based promentary > Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck’d up > The pine and cedar. Graves at my command > Have wak’d their sleepers, oped, and let them forth > By my so potent art. But this rough magic > I here abjure, and when I have required > Some heavenly music, which even now I do > To work my ends upon the senses that > This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff > And bury it certain fathoms in the Earth > And deeper than did ever plummet sound, > I’ll drown my book.