×ÖÄ» Tonight from the Royal
×ÖÄ» Shakespeare theatre Stratford-upon-Avon, Judi
×ÖÄ» Dench, Helen Mirren, Ian McKellen,
×ÖÄ» Benedict Cumberbatch, David Suchet,
×ÖÄ» Tim Minchin, AlMurray, Rufus Hound,
×ÖÄ» MeeraSayal. Ann-Marie Duff and many
×ÖÄ» more join together to celebrate the life and work of William
×ÖÄ» Shakespeare. # The Jets are gonna
×ÖÄ» have their day tonight. # The Jets are gonna
×ÖÄ» have their way tonight. The Puerto Ricans
×ÖÄ» "Fair fight." # But if they start a rumble,
×ÖÄ» We'll rumble 'em right. # We're gonna hand 'em
×ÖÄ» a surprise Tonight. # We're gonna cut 'em
×ÖÄ» down to size Tonight. # We said, "OK, no
×ÖÄ» rumpus, No tricks." # But just in case they jump us,
×ÖÄ» We're ready to mix Tonight. # We're gonna jazz it up
×ÖÄ» and have us a ball! # The more they turn it
×ÖÄ» on the harder they'll fall! ALL: # And we're the ones to stop
×ÖÄ» 'em once and for all, tonight! # Anita's gonna get
×ÖÄ» her kicks tonight. # We'll have our private
×ÖÄ» little mix tonight. # He'll walk in hot
×ÖÄ» and tired, poor dear # Don't matter if he's tired,
×ÖÄ» As long as he's here # Tonight, tonight,
×ÖÄ» Won't be just any night, # Tonight there will
×ÖÄ» be no morning star. # Tonight, tonight, I'll
×ÖÄ» see my love tonight. # And for us, stars will
×ÖÄ» stop where they are. # The hours go so slowly,
×ÖÄ» And still the sky is light. # And make this endless
×ÖÄ» day endless night! # The Jets are coming
×ÖÄ» out on top tonight # Tonight, tonight,
×ÖÄ» Late tonight, # Anita's gonna have her day,
×ÖÄ» Anita's gonna have her day, # Tonight, this very night,
×ÖÄ» We're gonna rock it tonight! # Tonight, tonight, I'll
×ÖÄ» see my love tonight. # And for us, stars will
×ÖÄ» stop where they are. Tonight we celebrate the life
×ÖÄ» and work of William Shakespeare, for it is exactly 400 years
×ÖÄ» to the day since he died, We are here at the Royal
×ÖÄ» Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon,
×ÖÄ» barely a stone's throw from where he was born,
×ÖÄ» and where he is buried. It's not just the great
×ÖÄ» stories he writes, the wonderful characters,
×ÖÄ» and the memorable language, Shakespeare tells us
×ÖÄ» about ourselves. Perhaps that is why,
×ÖÄ» for four centuries, he has inspired From Berlioz and Bernstein,
×ÖÄ» to Hip-hop and Jazz, From Ballet to Broadway
×ÖÄ» to Blues...and back. And that's what we're
×ÖÄ» celebrating tonight. There really is something
×ÖÄ» for everybody. And all the men and women merely
×ÖÄ» They have their exits
×ÖÄ» and their entrances; And one man
×ÖÄ» in his time plays many parts, Mewling
×ÖÄ» and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining
×ÖÄ» schoolboy, with his satchel creeping like snail
×ÖÄ» Unwillingly to school. Sighing like furnace,
×ÖÄ» with a woeful ballad Full of strange oaths
×ÖÄ» and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden
×ÖÄ» and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even
×ÖÄ» in the cannon's mouth. In fair
×ÖÄ» round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and
×ÖÄ» beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws
×ÖÄ» and modern instances; Into the lean
×ÖÄ» and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose
×ÖÄ» and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well
×ÖÄ» saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank;
×ÖÄ» and his big manly voice, Turning again toward
×ÖÄ» childish treble, pipes That ends this
×ÖÄ» strange eventful history, Is second childishness
×ÖÄ» and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes,
×ÖÄ» sans taste, sans everything. The famous "All the World's a Stage"
×ÖÄ» speech from As You Like It, there, with the Seven Ages of Man
×ÖÄ» represented by: - The tiny wee baby son of two
×ÖÄ» of the RSC production staff, - with a maternity nurse
×ÖÄ» from Warwick hospital, - a schoolboy from Shakespeare's
×ÖÄ» own school, King Edward's, - a dancer/performer
×ÖÄ» from Birmingham, - a soldier serving in the Royal
×ÖÄ» Electrical and Mechanical
×ÖÄ» Engineers And now the first of four short
×ÖÄ» films about the life of William Shakespeare introduced
×ÖÄ» by a man who knows all about the Bard, having played him
×ÖÄ» onscreen in Shakespeare In Love.
×ÖÄ» Here's Joseph Fiennes to introduce
×ÖÄ» "The Seasons of Shakespeare's Life" William Shakespeare was born
×ÖÄ» in the Warwickshire market
×ÖÄ» town of Stratford-upon-Avon on this very
×ÖÄ» day, April 23rd, 1564. It's where he enjoyed
×ÖÄ» the springtime of his life, for it's here in Warwickshire
×ÖÄ» that he was raised, here in Stratford that he was educated,
×ÖÄ» and here in this hamlet that he enjoyed the
×ÖÄ» first shoots of love. In this cottage, in the village
×ÖÄ» of Shottery, lived a yeoman farmer's Perhaps, in this farmhouse,
×ÖÄ» they exchanged love tokens, perhaps under these eaves
×ÖÄ» they whispered their sweetest nothings, and who knows, perhaps
×ÖÄ» for Anne he began writing poetry. Perhaps it's from this youthful
×ÖÄ» springtime that he drew the inspiration for the song Under
×ÖÄ» the Greenwood Tree from his play In its verses we can hear
×ÖÄ» the echoes of love at its most # Here we'll find no enemy
×ÖÄ» but winter, and rough weather # Than to die not my master stutter
×ÖÄ» those whose ambitions shun Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
×ÖÄ» Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
×ÖÄ» And I'll no longer be a Capulet. Shall I hear more,
×ÖÄ» or shall I speak at this? 'Tis but thy name that is my
×ÖÄ» enemy; Thou art thyself,
×ÖÄ» though not a Montague. Nor arm,
×ÖÄ» nor face, nor any other part By any
×ÖÄ» other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were
×ÖÄ» he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear
×ÖÄ» perfection which he owes And for that
×ÖÄ» name which is no part of thee Call me
×ÖÄ» but love, and I'll be new baptized; What man art thou that
×ÖÄ» thus bescreen'd in night By a name I know not how
×ÖÄ» to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint,
×ÖÄ» is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy
×ÖÄ» to thee; Had I it written,
×ÖÄ» I would tear the word. My ears have not yet
×ÖÄ» drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance,
×ÖÄ» yet I know the sound: Neither, fair saint,
×ÖÄ» if either thee dislike. How camest thou hither,
×ÖÄ» tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are
×ÖÄ» high and hard to climb, And the place death,
×ÖÄ» considering who thou art. If they do see thee,
×ÖÄ» they will murder thee. I have night's cloak
×ÖÄ» to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me,
×ÖÄ» let them find me here. Thou know'st the mask
×ÖÄ» of night is on my face, Else would a maiden
×ÖÄ» blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast
×ÖÄ» heard me speak to-night That tips with silver
×ÖÄ» all these fruit-tree tops - O, swear not by the moon,
×ÖÄ» the inconstant moon, That monthly changes
×ÖÄ» in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove
×ÖÄ» likewise variable. Or, if thou wilt, swear
×ÖÄ» by thy gracious self, Well, do not swear:
×ÖÄ» although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this
×ÖÄ» contract to-night: It is too rash, too
×ÖÄ» unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning,
×ÖÄ» which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It
×ÖÄ» lightens.' This bud of love, by
×ÖÄ» summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous
×ÖÄ» flower when next we meet. Parting is such sweet sorrow,
×ÖÄ» That I shall say good Sleep dwell upon thine eyes,
×ÖÄ» peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace,
×ÖÄ» so sweet to rest! Looking at what their bodies are
×ÖÄ» capable of doing, I find it difficult to believe we are the same
×ÖÄ» species. The Balcony Scene from Romeo
×ÖÄ» and Juliet, of course, performed by
×ÖÄ» Mariah Gale and Natey Jones. And the Royal Ballet's Yasmine
×ÖÄ» Naghdi and Matthew Ball
×ÖÄ» performing the same scene in Prokofiev's Romeo
×ÖÄ» and Juliet with Kenneth
×ÖÄ» Macmillan's The Royal Ballet commissioned the
×ÖÄ» place for the terse of Shakespeare's birth.
×ÖÄ» So I put him down with a perfect witty response!
×ÖÄ» I haven't had this much fun since I was in prison!
×ÖÄ» Excuse me, is this where the theatre stars hang out?
×ÖÄ» Shall I give him an autograph or kill him?
×ÖÄ» Lad, you are addressing the greatest theatrical stars of the age.
×ÖÄ» Ben Jonson, actor and writer, Kit Marlowe, playwright
×ÖÄ» And this is Gabriel Spenser, he's just an actor but we let him
×ÖÄ» hang out with us because he likes drinking and fighting.
×ÖÄ» He also does a good line in literary criticism.
×ÖÄ» OK, guys, well I might come back later
×ÖÄ» when you're a bit less busy and drunk and fighty.
×ÖÄ» Actually I was looking for some advice.
×ÖÄ» Basically, at the moment I'm mainly like an actor,
×ÖÄ» but, like, I'm looking to get more into writing, you know,
×ÖÄ» and I mainly specialise in playing old man parts
×ÖÄ» Well, my name is William Shakespeare.
×ÖÄ» Real writers drink and fight and go to prison!
×ÖÄ» Well I have a wife and kids so I have to earn a living.
×ÖÄ» Anyway, I'm pretty good at writing plays.
×ÖÄ» Oooh look at me, I'm Billy Springle-Sprangle
×ÖÄ» and I write plays, and I plan for the future.
×ÖÄ» I genuinely don't know who that's supposed to be.
×ÖÄ» Ok look I'm not good at impressions alright?
×ÖÄ» Listen buddy, I'm a writer not a fighter,
×ÖÄ» and I'm going all the way to the top with or without you guys.
×ÖÄ» Everyone will know my name, William S-
×ÖÄ» The Horrible Histories gang there,
×ÖÄ» with a playful take on the past.
×ÖÄ» And now Shakespeare's own take on the history of Henry V.
×ÖÄ» Here the young king, having conquered France
×ÖÄ» at the Battle of Agincourt, finds himself powerless
×ÖÄ» and tongue-tied in his attempts to woo the French princess,
×ÖÄ» Katherine, with whom he hopes to unite the English
×ÖÄ» to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear
×ÖÄ» And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
×ÖÄ» Your majesty shall mock at me: I cannot speak your England.
×ÖÄ» O fair Katherine, if you
×ÖÄ» will love me soundly with your French heart,
×ÖÄ» I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your
×ÖÄ» An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
×ÖÄ» Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il.
×ÖÄ» I said so, dear Katherine, and I must not blush to affirm it.
×ÖÄ» Les langues des hommes sont pleines de tromperies.
×ÖÄ» That the tongues of men are full of deceits?
×ÖÄ» Oui, dat de tongues of de
×ÖÄ» mans is be full of deceits: dat is de princess.
×ÖÄ» I'faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding.
×ÖÄ» I am glad thou canst speak no better English.
×ÖÄ» I know no ways to mince it in love,
×ÖÄ» but directly to say 'I love you'.
×ÖÄ» Then if you urge me farther than to say, 'Do you in faith?',
×ÖÄ» Give me your answer, I'faith, do, and so clap
×ÖÄ» Sauf votre honneur, me understand vell.
×ÖÄ» Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for your sake,
×ÖÄ» If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle
×ÖÄ» with my armour on my back, I should quickly leap into a wife.
×ÖÄ» But, before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly nor gasp
×ÖÄ» out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation.
×ÖÄ» If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face
×ÖÄ» is not worth sunburning, that never looks in his glass
×ÖÄ» for love of anything he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook.
×ÖÄ» I speak to thee plain soldier: if thou canst love me for this,
×ÖÄ» if not, to say to thee that I shall die,
×ÖÄ» is true; but for thy love, by the lord, no.
×ÖÄ» If thou would have such a one, take me: and take me,
×ÖÄ» take a soldier: take a soldier, take a king.
×ÖÄ» A good leg will fall, a
×ÖÄ» straight back will stoop, a black beard will
×ÖÄ» turn white, a full face will wither,
×ÖÄ» a fair eye will wax hollow, but a
×ÖÄ» good heart Kate is the sun and the moon.
×ÖÄ» Or rather the sun and not the
×ÖÄ» moon because it shines bright and never changes. Keeps his course
×ÖÄ» tulip. If thou would have such a one,
×ÖÄ» take me. And take me, take a
×ÖÄ» soldier. Take a soldier, take a King. Very good.
×ÖÄ» If Shakespeare were alive today, what would he be?
×ÖÄ» No, I mean would he be writing for films, or TV shows, or -
×ÖÄ» Well, I've heard they only hire the best.
×ÖÄ» Who better to answer than Akala and Nitin Sawhney?
×ÖÄ» Here they are with Hip Hop Shakespeare.
×ÖÄ» If all of the world's a stage,
×ÖÄ» then light my way, because out, out, your
×ÖÄ» brief candle is not. For centuries past,
×ÖÄ» yet I still cannot grasp that
×ÖÄ» undiscovered country that
×ÖÄ» makes words immortal. If the good that men
×ÖÄ» do is interred with their bones,
×ÖÄ» then this precious stone is a beauty
×ÖÄ» too rich. Me thinks it's
×ÖÄ» a jewel in the air of us all, as the wisest
×ÖÄ» words spoken are spoken by force.
×ÖÄ» Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, I want
×ÖÄ» to endure desire. Time wastes me, flesh goes pasty. Delayed found
×ÖÄ» greatness. What me did they feed,
×ÖÄ» I wouldn't taste the milk even if it
×ÖÄ» was good. Sprang back unfound
×ÖÄ» the language disused by us all. Stat due
×ÖÄ» and stone, I have captured your tone.
×ÖÄ» I remembered the poet in the
×ÖÄ» lunatic, one and the same, only sometimes men and masters are the
×ÖÄ» same of their faith.
×ÖÄ» Lighted their ways to a dusty death. A fool's
×ÖÄ» paradise, a shadow of dream, off with his head. Guide me to the
×ÖÄ» world's light, it could
×ÖÄ» turn his prison cell bright. Guide me to the
×ÖÄ» world's night. Could turn
×ÖÄ» the prison cell bright. Guide me to the world's
×ÖÄ» bright. Men can breathe and eyes can see,
×ÖÄ» this gives life to thee. When I
×ÖÄ» think there's not a note of
×ÖÄ» anything worth noting, faultless cries, I get
×ÖÄ» tongue tied, my soul runs dry,
×ÖÄ» I remember you spoke of the marriage
×ÖÄ» of the minds. I presume to
×ÖÄ» take your place in a nutshell, I'm the King of
×ÖÄ» infinite space, a waste of shame,
×ÖÄ» so full of blame, expense in my spirit
×ÖÄ» and disgraced in my name.
×ÖÄ» I'm un-Kingth Ked again. Not learnt from
×ÖÄ» the thingious taught us. The song and very chug dies.
×ÖÄ» All this, I know not well enough to show.
×ÖÄ» Guide me to the world's light,
×ÖÄ» when I arrive, it could
×ÖÄ» turn the prison cell right. When I arrive, it
×ÖÄ» could turn the prison cell bright.
×ÖÄ» When I'm right, it could turn this
×ÖÄ» prison cell bright. Eyes can see,
×ÖÄ» this gives life to thee. What's past
×ÖÄ» makes sense with the
×ÖÄ» gathered centuries after death. They call you
×ÖÄ» King. It's honourable, what is horrible, you didn't know all this
×ÖÄ» was possible. Did you feel it in your bones, did you have this
×ÖÄ» greatness thrust upon you? You should really give the devil his
×ÖÄ» due, speak to few. Words never scarce, spent in vein, the clue's
×ÖÄ» Shakespeare, but what's in a name? Hell at night, guide me to the
×ÖÄ» world's light, when EU arrive,
×ÖÄ» it could turn the prison cell bright.
×ÖÄ» Guide me to the world's light.
×ÖÄ» When I arrive, it could turn the prison
×ÖÄ» cell right. As far as eyes can see,
×ÖÄ» this gives life to thee. Guide know
×ÖÄ» the world's light, when I arrive,
×ÖÄ» it could turn this prison cell bright.
×ÖÄ» Guide know the world light,
×ÖÄ» when I arrive, it could turn this prison
×ÖÄ» cell bright. This gives life to thee.
×ÖÄ» If all the world's a stage,
×ÖÄ» then light my way. Because out, out, the
×ÖÄ» candle is not. For centuries past, yet I still cannot grasp that
×ÖÄ» undiscovered country that
×ÖÄ» makes words immortal. If the good that men
×ÖÄ» do is interred with their bones,
×ÖÄ» then this precious stone is a beauty
×ÖÄ» to rich. Me thinks it's
×ÖÄ» a jewel in the air of us all, as the wisest
×ÖÄ» words spoken are spoken by fools. CHEERING AND APPLAUSE.
×ÖÄ» As Spring turns to Summer, Love can turn to Madness:
×ÖÄ» And Love certainly does mad things to people,
×ÖÄ» in these three scenes from As You Like It, Twelfth Night
×ÖÄ» Rosalind, dressed as a boy, woos her beloved Orlando,
×ÖÄ» The Steward Malvolio who lusts after his mistress,
×ÖÄ» Olivia, has been tricked into dressing up in yellow
×ÖÄ» stockings to impress her; And the queen of the fairies,
×ÖÄ» having had a spell cast on her, finds herself enchanted by a poor
×ÖÄ» old weaver called Bottom, who has himself been transformed
×ÖÄ» Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind!
×ÖÄ» Where have you been all this while?
×ÖÄ» An you serve me such another trick, never come in my sight more.
×ÖÄ» My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.
×ÖÄ» He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break
×ÖÄ» but a part of the thousandth
×ÖÄ» part of a minute in the affairs of love,
×ÖÄ» it may be said of him
×ÖÄ» that Cupid hath clapped him o' the shoulder,
×ÖÄ» Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I had
×ÖÄ» But come, now I will be your Rosalind in a more
×ÖÄ» coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will.
×ÖÄ» Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.
×ÖÄ» Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?
×ÖÄ» Now tell me how long you would have her after
×ÖÄ» Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; men are April
×ÖÄ» when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May
×ÖÄ» when they are maids, but the sky changes
×ÖÄ» I will be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon
×ÖÄ» over his hen, more clamorous than a parrot against rain,
×ÖÄ» more new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires
×ÖÄ» than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana
×ÖÄ» in the fountain, and I will
×ÖÄ» do that when you are disposed to be merry;
×ÖÄ» I will laugh like a hyena,
×ÖÄ» and that when thou art inclined to sleep.
×ÖÄ» Or else she could not have the wit to do this: make the doors
×ÖÄ» upon a woman's wit and it will out at the casement; shut that
×ÖÄ» and 'twill out at the key-hole;
×ÖÄ» stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke
×ÖÄ» For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.
×ÖÄ» Dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.
×ÖÄ» By two o'clock I will be with thee again.
×ÖÄ» Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you would prove:
×ÖÄ» my friends told me as much, and I thought no less: that
×ÖÄ» flattering tongue of yours won me: 'tis but one cast away,
×ÖÄ» By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me,
×ÖÄ» and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous,
×ÖÄ» if you break one jot of your
×ÖÄ» promise or come one minute behind your hour,
×ÖÄ» I will think you the most
×ÖÄ» pathetical break-promise and the most hollow
×ÖÄ» lover and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that may be
×ÖÄ» chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful: therefore beware
×ÖÄ» With no less religion than
×ÖÄ» if thou wert indeed my Rosalind: so adieu.
×ÖÄ» Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders,
×ÖÄ» O that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love!
×ÖÄ» But it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown bottom,
×ÖÄ» I'll tell thee, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando: I'll go
×ÖÄ» He is sad and civil,
×ÖÄ» And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:
×ÖÄ» He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner.
×ÖÄ» Madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have
×ÖÄ» some guard about you, if he come; for, sure,
×ÖÄ» I am as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be.
×ÖÄ» I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
×ÖÄ» I could be sad: this does make some obstruction in the blood,
×ÖÄ» this cross-gartering; but what of that?
×ÖÄ» If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very
×ÖÄ» true sonnet is, 'Please one, and please all.'
×ÖÄ» Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs.
×ÖÄ» It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed:
×ÖÄ» I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
×ÖÄ» Ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee.
×ÖÄ» Why dost thou smile so and kiss thy hand so oft?
×ÖÄ» Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
×ÖÄ» 'Be not afraid of greatness:' 'twas well writ.
×ÖÄ» 'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'
×ÖÄ» 'Remember who commended thy yellow stocking s.
×ÖÄ» 'And wished to see thee cross-gartered.'
×ÖÄ» 'Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;'
×ÖÄ» 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'
×ÖÄ» You see an asshead of your own, do you?
×ÖÄ» an ass of me; to fright me, if they could.
×ÖÄ» But I will not stir from this place,
×ÖÄ» do what they can: I will walk up
×ÖÄ» and down here, and I will sing, that they shall
×ÖÄ» # The throstle with his note so true.
×ÖÄ» What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
×ÖÄ» The plain-song cuckoo gray, Whose note full many a man doth mark.
×ÖÄ» Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note.
×ÖÄ» So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.
×ÖÄ» And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me.
×ÖÄ» On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
×ÖÄ» Me thinks mistress you should have little reason
×ÖÄ» And yet, to say the truth, reason and
×ÖÄ» Love keep little company together now-a-days.
×ÖÄ» The more the pity that some honest neighbours will not
×ÖÄ» Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
×ÖÄ» Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out
×ÖÄ» of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
×ÖÄ» Out of this wood do not desire to go:
×ÖÄ» Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
×ÖÄ» I am a spirit of no common rate; The summer still doth
×ÖÄ» tend upon my state; And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
×ÖÄ» I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
×ÖÄ» And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
×ÖÄ» And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;
×ÖÄ» And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
×ÖÄ» That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
×ÖÄ» Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
×ÖÄ» Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
×ÖÄ» Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
×ÖÄ» With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
×ÖÄ» The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
×ÖÄ» And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
×ÖÄ» And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
×ÖÄ» To have my love to bed and to arise; And pluck the wings
×ÖÄ» from painted butterflies To fan the moonbeams
×ÖÄ» from his sleeping eyes: Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
×ÖÄ» I cry your worship's mercy, heartily:
×ÖÄ» Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
×ÖÄ» The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;
×ÖÄ» And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
×ÖÄ» Tie up my love's tongue bring him silently.
×ÖÄ» William Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway were married in 1582.
×ÖÄ» He was 18, and she was 26 and pregnant.
×ÖÄ» Six months later their daughter Susanna was born and two years
×ÖÄ» after that the young couple had twins Hamnet and Judith.
×ÖÄ» And soon after that, Shakespeare left Anne
×ÖÄ» and the children in Stratford and went to London, where he found
×ÖÄ» a career in the theatre, writing plays and performing
×ÖÄ» for a company of actors called the Lord Chamberlain's Men.
×ÖÄ» Of course we can't know what he felt about his departure
×ÖÄ» but as he enters the creative Summertime of his life Shakespeare
×ÖÄ» describes how the course of true love never did run smooth.
×ÖÄ» It can spin girls into boys, twist a man into a fool,
×ÖÄ» and turn a clown into a donkey, and sometimes love departs
×ÖÄ» And nowhere is that restless
×ÖÄ» spirit better captured than in this song
×ÖÄ» # Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
×ÖÄ» # One foot in sea and one on shore, o one thing constant never,
×ÖÄ» # Then sigh not so, but let them go, and be you blithe and bonny,
×ÖÄ» # Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
×ÖÄ» # Sing no more ditties, sing no more, Of dumps so dull and heavy;
×ÖÄ» # The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leafy:
×ÖÄ» # Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny,
×ÖÄ» # Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny #.
×ÖÄ» # Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny,
×ÖÄ» # Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny #.
×ÖÄ» In Much Ado About Nothing,
×ÖÄ» a couple meet again after a long time apart.
×ÖÄ» They have been lovers in the past, but love has turned sour,
×ÖÄ» Performing as Beatrice and Benedick now are Meera Syal
×ÖÄ» A kind overflow of kindness. How much better is it to weep at Joy
×ÖÄ» then joy at weeping? I wonder,
×ÖÄ» you will still be talking, nobody marks
×ÖÄ» you. Is it possible disdain should die
×ÖÄ» while she hath such meet food Courtesy itself must convert
×ÖÄ» to disdain, if you come But it is certain I am loved
×ÖÄ» of all ladies, only you
×ÖÄ» excepted: and I would I could find in my heart
×ÖÄ» that I had not a hard heart; for, A dear happiness to women:
×ÖÄ» they would else have been troubled I thank God and my cold blood,
×ÖÄ» I am of your humour for
×ÖÄ» that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow
×ÖÄ» than a man swear he loves me. God keep your ladyship
×ÖÄ» still in that mind! So some gentleman or other shall
×ÖÄ» 'scape a predestinate Scratching could not make it worse,
×ÖÄ» an 'twere such a face as yours were.
×ÖÄ» A bird of my tongue is better
×ÖÄ» than a beast of yours. I would my horse had
×ÖÄ» the speed of your tongue, But keep your way,
×ÖÄ» in God's name; I have done. You always end with a jade's
×ÖÄ» I know you of old. When the French composer Berlioz
×ÖÄ» first saw Shakespeare performed in Paris in 1827,
×ÖÄ» he said it struck him He became obsessed with Shakespeare,
×ÖÄ» writing a Romeo and Juliet symphony,
×ÖÄ» an overture for King Lear, and,
×ÖÄ» at the end of his life, an opera called Beatrice
×ÖÄ» and Benedict based And now here's a duet
×ÖÄ» from that opera. The night before her wedding,
×ÖÄ» with her maid Ursula, the bride-to-be, Hero,
×ÖÄ» contemplates her marriage # Je ne puis y songer sans
×ÖÄ» trembler malgre moi. # Ecumant; L'ombre
×ÖÄ» de ce grand arbre, # Sous le vent; Harmonies
×ÖÄ» Infinies, And now from opera
×ÖÄ» to a Broadway musical. From Cole Porter's 1948
×ÖÄ» hit based on The Taming Hey?There's a lot of
×ÖÄ» handsome people here.. Hey, John, who's that that
×ÖÄ» guy?..Look?.He looks just like that Ha ,ha,ha?How do
×ÖÄ» you think it's going? Hey what you doing, we are talking
×ÖÄ» to these people here? You waving that!
×ÖÄ» Listen, if any of you bums are trying to impress the women
×ÖÄ» you bought here this evening, then...er...how about listening
×ÖÄ» to a guy who's got a little expertrise...exper-
×ÖÄ» One must know Homer And b'lieve me bo
×ÖÄ» And Keats and Pope Dainty debbies will call you a dope
×ÖÄ» But the poet of them all That will start 'em simply ravin'
×ÖÄ» Is the poet people call The Bard of Stratford-on-Avon
×ÖÄ» # Just declaim a few lines from 'Othella' and they'll
×ÖÄ» # If your blond won't respond when you flatter 'er
×ÖÄ» # Tell her what Tony told Cleopaterer.
×ÖÄ» # If she fights when her clothes you are mussing
×ÖÄ» # With the wife of the British Embessida.
×ÖÄ» # Try a crack out of Troilus and Cressida.
×ÖÄ» # If she says she won't buy it or tike it.
×ÖÄ» # Make her tike it, what's more As You Like It.
×ÖÄ» # If she says your behavior is heinous,
×ÖÄ» # Kick her right in the 'Coriolanus'.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare and they'll all kowtow.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare Start quoting him now.
×ÖÄ» # If you can't be a ham and do Hamlet.
×ÖÄ» # They will not give a damn or a damnlet.
×ÖÄ» # And your lap will have honey upon it.
×ÖÄ» # When your baby is pleading for pleasure.
×ÖÄ» # Let her sample your Measure for Measure.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare and they'll all kowtow.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare Start quoting him now.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare And the women you will wow.
×ÖÄ» # Better mention the Merchant of Venice
×ÖÄ» # When her sweet pound 'o flesh you would menace.
×ÖÄ» # If her virtue at first she defends well.
×ÖÄ» # Just remind her that All's Well that Ends Well
×ÖÄ» # And if still she won't give you a bonus.
×ÖÄ» # You know what Venus got from Adonis.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare And they'll all kowtow.
×ÖÄ» # And they'll all kowtow Odds bodkins.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare Start quoting him now.
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare And the women you will wow.
×ÖÄ» # If your goil is a Washington Heights dream.
×ÖÄ» # Treat the kid to 'A Midsummer Night Dream'.
×ÖÄ» # If she then wants and all by herself night.
×ÖÄ» # Let her rest every 'leventh or Twelf' Night.
×ÖÄ» # If because of your heat she gets huffy.
×ÖÄ» # Simply play on and "Lay on, Macduffy!"
×ÖÄ» # Brush up your Shakespeare And they'll all kowtow.
×ÖÄ» # We trow And they'll all kowtow We vow.
×ÖÄ» This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
×ÖÄ» This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
×ÖÄ» This other Eden, demi-paradise,
×ÖÄ» This fortress built by Nature for herself
×ÖÄ» Against infection and the hand of war,
×ÖÄ» This happy breed of men, this little world,
×ÖÄ» This precious stone set in the silver sea,
×ÖÄ» Which serves it in the office of a wall,
×ÖÄ» Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy
×ÖÄ» of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth,
×ÖÄ» Simon Russell Beale with John of Gaunt's famous celebration
×ÖÄ» of England from Richard II, a piece that has appeared in poetry
×ÖÄ» anthologies since the play was first published in 1597.
×ÖÄ» It's 1956, jazz giant Duke Ellington is in Stratford, Ontario,
×ÖÄ» There's a Shakespeare
×ÖÄ» Festival on and Duke Ellington takes a break
×ÖÄ» from his music to go and see the show.
×ÖÄ» The Duke sneaks in at the back and sits in the aisle to watch.
×ÖÄ» So moved is he that he comes back the next
×ÖÄ» night, and the next, soaking it all up, until eventually
×ÖÄ» he is inspired to write his very own homage to Shakespeare.
×ÖÄ» Here is the Midlands Youth Jazz Orchestra to play part
×ÖÄ» of Duke Ellington's jazz suite Such Sweet Thunder.
×ÖÄ» By the mid 1590s Shakespeare's career with the Lord Chamberlain's
×ÖÄ» He was riding high having penned history plays
×ÖÄ» about Henry VI and Richard III, and had high hopes for
×ÖÄ» a little known love story called Romeo and Juliet.
×ÖÄ» Those successes must have
×ÖÄ» seemed far removed from the humble beginnings
×ÖÄ» of this room on Henley Street where Shakespeare was born.
×ÖÄ» But whilst his professional life was soaring, personal tragedy
×ÖÄ» In 1596, one of the twins, his son Hamnet, died.
×ÖÄ» The death must have had a profound impact on the playwright.
×ÖÄ» Perhaps, like any true artist, Shakespeare channelled that
×ÖÄ» grief into his work, for the years directly
×ÖÄ» following the death of
×ÖÄ» his son were filled by the creation of some
×ÖÄ» of the most exquisite writing in the English language.
×ÖÄ» A sea-change occurred, a shift in tone from
×ÖÄ» Melancholia and poisoned longing cast dark shadows
×ÖÄ» Woven into their souls are threads of sardonic introspection,
×ÖÄ» These plays, written in the autumn of his life, were rich
×ÖÄ» What better example could we share than this sonorous refrain
×ÖÄ» from the lonely fool Feste in his bitter sweet play,
×ÖÄ» # When that I was and a little tiny boy.
×ÖÄ» # With hey, ho, the wind and the rain.
×ÖÄ» # 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate.
×ÖÄ» # With hey, ho, the wind and the rain.
×ÖÄ» # By swaggering could I never thrive.
×ÖÄ» # With hey, ho, the wind and the rain.
×ÖÄ» # With toss-pots still had drunken heads.
×ÖÄ» # With hey, ho, the wind and the rain.
×ÖÄ» # But that's all one, our play is done.
×ÖÄ» # And we'll strive to please you every day.
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question?
×ÖÄ» It's "To be, or not to be, that....."
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question?
×ÖÄ» You suggesting there is some reason why I couldn't...
×ÖÄ» Some intrinsic reason why audiences would not accept me
×ÖÄ» I'd never get to play Hamlet at Stratford-upon-bloody-Avon,
×ÖÄ» Egg sorry, I couldn't help overhearing.
×ÖÄ» So "To be or not to be, that is the question"
×ÖÄ» I suppose you've played Hamlet.
×ÖÄ» Sorry, I didn't realise,
×ÖÄ» it's Eddie Redmayne! What are you doing? I
×ÖÄ» loved you as the Danish girl. These film stars don't really know.
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question.
×ÖÄ» And I suppose you're going to tell me, you've played Hamlet.
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question.
×ÖÄ» It's quite a broadchurch, the people they let play Hamlet then?
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question.
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question...
×ÖÄ» CHEERING AND APPLAUSE. Hi, Eddie. Lend me your ears.
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question...
×ÖÄ» To be or not to be, that is the question!
×ÖÄ» Might I have a word? Just a minute. Just a minute.
×ÖÄ» LAUGHTER. To be or not to be, that is the question.
×ÖÄ» LAUGHTER. To be or not to be,
×ÖÄ» that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler
×ÖÄ» in the mind to suffer. The slings and arrows
×ÖÄ» of outrageous fortune. Or to take arms against
×ÖÄ» a sea of troubles. No more; and by a sleep
×ÖÄ» to say we end. The heart-ache and the
×ÖÄ» thousand natural shocks. That flesh is heir to,
×ÖÄ» 'tis a consummation. To sleep: perchance to dream:
×ÖÄ» ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death
×ÖÄ» what dreams may come. When we have shuffled
×ÖÄ» off this mortal coil. Must give us pause:
×ÖÄ» there's the respect. For who would bear the whips
×ÖÄ» and scorns of time. But that the dread of
×ÖÄ» something after death. The undiscover'd country
×ÖÄ» from whose bourn. No traveller returns,
×ÖÄ» puzzles the will. And makes us rather bear
×ÖÄ» those ills we have. Than fly to others
×ÖÄ» that we know not of? Thus conscience does
×ÖÄ» make cowards of us all. And thus the native
×ÖÄ» hue of resolution. Is sicklied o'er with
×ÖÄ» the pale cast of thought. And enterprises of great
×ÖÄ» pitch and moment. With this regard their
×ÖÄ» currents turn awry. In the British Library
×ÖÄ» is a manuscript of a play It's partly in Shakespeare's
×ÖÄ» own handwriting. And this is the extraordinary speech
×ÖÄ» he penned, as Thomas More
×ÖÄ» quells a race riot in the City of London
×ÖÄ» on May Day, appealing to the mob to consider the plight
×ÖÄ» of the foreign immigrants. Grant them removed, and grant
×ÖÄ» that this your noise. Hath chid down all
×ÖÄ» the majesty of England. Imagine that you see
×ÖÄ» the wretched strangers. Their babies at their backs
×ÖÄ» and their poor luggage. Plodding to the ports
×ÖÄ» and coasts for transportation. And that you sit as
×ÖÄ» kings in your desires. Authority quite
×ÖÄ» silent by your brawl. And you in ruff of your
×ÖÄ» opinions clothed. How insolence and strong
×ÖÄ» hand should prevail. How order should be quelled;
×ÖÄ» and by this pattern. Not one of you should
×ÖÄ» live an aged man. For other ruffians,
×ÖÄ» as their fancies wrought. With self same hand,
×ÖÄ» self reasons, and self right. Would shark on you, and men
×ÖÄ» like ravenous fishes. Should so much come too short
×ÖÄ» of your great trespass. As but to banish you,
×ÖÄ» whether would you go? What country, by the
×ÖÄ» nature of your error. To any German province,
×ÖÄ» to Spain or Portugal. Nay, any where that not
×ÖÄ» adheres to England. Why, you must needs be strangers:
×ÖÄ» would you be pleased. To find a nation of
×ÖÄ» such barbarous temper. That, breaking out
×ÖÄ» in hideous violence. Would not afford you
×ÖÄ» an abode on earth. Whet their detested knives
×ÖÄ» against your throats. Spurn you like dogs,
×ÖÄ» and like as if that God. Owed not nor made not you,
×ÖÄ» nor that the claimants. Were not all appropriate
×ÖÄ» to your comforts. But chartered unto them,
×ÖÄ» what would you think. And this your
×ÖÄ» mountainish inhumanity. Shakespeare is performed
×ÖÄ» all over the world. He is translated into every language
×ÖÄ» from Albanian to Zulu. Here are scenes from two
×ÖÄ» landmark productions that opened our eyes
×ÖÄ» to his global influence. Welcome Msomi, who
×ÖÄ» brought his company to Britain in 1972 with his
×ÖÄ» Zulu Macbeth, uMabatha. The second is from Japanese
×ÖÄ» director Ninagawa's famous Cherry Blossom Macbeth
×ÖÄ» which he brought to # When, in disgrace
×ÖÄ» with fortune and men's eyes. # I all alone beweep
×ÖÄ» my outcast state. # And look upon myself
×ÖÄ» and curse my fate. # Wishing me like to
×ÖÄ» one more rich in hope. # Featured like him,
×ÖÄ» like him with friends possess'd. # Desiring this man's art
×ÖÄ» and that man's scope. # With what I most
×ÖÄ» enjoy contented least. # Yet in these thoughts
×ÖÄ» myself almost despising. # Haply I think on thee,
×ÖÄ» and then my state. # Like to the lark at
×ÖÄ» break of day arising. # From sullen earth,
×ÖÄ» sings hymns at heaven's gate. # For thy sweet love
×ÖÄ» remember'd such wealth brings. # That then I scorn to change my
×ÖÄ» state with kings # . Rufus Wainwright singing
×ÖÄ» his own version of one Shakespeare was about to
×ÖÄ» enter his fortieth year, when Queen Elizabeth the First
×ÖÄ» died in 1603. With the arrival of the new Scottish
×ÖÄ» king, James the First, Shakespeare's company was promoted,
×ÖÄ» and became The King's Men. A terrorist attack, the Gunpowder
×ÖÄ» plot, nearly succeeded in blowing up the royal family
×ÖÄ» in Parliament in 1605. The world seemed to have
×ÖÄ» lost its moorings and be
×ÖÄ» adrift And this prevailing sense of doom,
×ÖÄ» of futility, is present in many of the tragedies Shakespeare
×ÖÄ» wrote at this time. These next three
×ÖÄ» scenes all take place In King Lear, we meet
×ÖÄ» an old man who has resigned his crown and been
×ÖÄ» thrown out into the storm, in Antony and Cleopatra,
×ÖÄ» the queen of Egypt prepares to confound her enemies
×ÖÄ» and end her life, but first, in Macbeth, we encounter a couple
×ÖÄ» who have just committed murder. That which hath made them
×ÖÄ» drunk hath made me bold. What hath quench'd them
×ÖÄ» hath given me fire. It was the owl that shriek'd,
×ÖÄ» the fatal bellman. The doors are open;
×ÖÄ» and the surfeited grooms. Do mock their charge
×ÖÄ» with snores: I have drugg'd. That death and nature
×ÖÄ» do contend about them. I heard the owl scream
×ÖÄ» and the crickets cry. A foolish thought,
×ÖÄ» to say a sorry sight. There's one did laugh in's
×ÖÄ» sleep, and one cried That they did wake each
×ÖÄ» I stood and heard them: But they did say their prayers,
×ÖÄ» and address'd them. One cried 'God bless us!'
×ÖÄ» and 'Amen' the other. As they had seen me
×ÖÄ» with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear,
×ÖÄ» I could not say 'Amen'. But wherefore could not
×ÖÄ» I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of
×ÖÄ» blessing, and 'Amen' These deeds must not be thought
×ÖÄ» After these ways; so, Methought I heard a voice
×ÖÄ» cry 'Sleep no more! Sleep that knits up
×ÖÄ» the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life,
×ÖÄ» sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great
×ÖÄ» nature's second course, Still it cried 'Sleep no
×ÖÄ» more!' to all the house: 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep,
×ÖÄ» and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more; Macbeth
×ÖÄ» shall sleep no more.' You do unbend your noble
×ÖÄ» strength, to think. And wash this filthy
×ÖÄ» witness from your hand. Why did you bring these
×ÖÄ» daggers from the place? They must lie there: go
×ÖÄ» carry them; and smear. I'll go no more: I am afraid
×ÖÄ» to think what I have done; Give me the daggers:
×ÖÄ» the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis
×ÖÄ» the eye of childhood If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces
×ÖÄ» of the grooms withal; How is't with me, when
×ÖÄ» every noise appals me? Will all great Neptune's
×ÖÄ» ocean wash this blood No, this my hand will
×ÖÄ» rather the multitudinous seas in incarnadine,
×ÖÄ» Making the green one red. My hands are of your
×ÖÄ» colour; but I shame I hear a knocking at the south
×ÖÄ» retire we to our chamber; A little water clears
×ÖÄ» us of this deed: Your constancy Hath
×ÖÄ» left you unattended. Get on your nightgown,
×ÖÄ» lest occasion call us, Be not lost So poorly
×ÖÄ» in your thoughts. To know my deed, 'twere
×ÖÄ» best not know myself. You cataracts and
×ÖÄ» hurricanoes, spout. Till you have drench'd our steeples,
×ÖÄ» drown'd the cocks! You sulphurous and
×ÖÄ» thought-executing fires. Vaunt-couriers to
×ÖÄ» oak-cleaving thunderbolts. Smite flat the thick
×ÖÄ» rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds,
×ÖÄ» all germens spill at once. Nor rain, wind, thunder,
×ÖÄ» fire, are my daughters. I tax not you, you elements,
×ÖÄ» with unkindness. I never gave you kingdom,
×ÖÄ» call'd you children. You owe me no subscription:
×ÖÄ» then let fall. Your horrible pleasure:
×ÖÄ» here I stand, your slave. A poor, infirm, weak,
×ÖÄ» and despised old man. But yet I call you servile
×ÖÄ» ministers. That have with two
×ÖÄ» pernicious daughters join'd. Your high engender'd battles
×ÖÄ» 'gainst a head. So old and white
×ÖÄ» as this. No, I will be the pattern
×ÖÄ» of all patience. Finish, good lady;
×ÖÄ» the bright day is done. Immortal longings
×ÖÄ» now no more. The juice of Egypt's grape
×ÖÄ» shall moist this lip. Antony call; I see
×ÖÄ» him rouse himself. Now to that name my
×ÖÄ» courage prove my title! I am fire and air;
×ÖÄ» my other elements. Come then, and take
×ÖÄ» the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian;
×ÖÄ» Iras, long farewell. If thou and nature
×ÖÄ» can so gently part. The stroke of death
×ÖÄ» is as a lover's pinch. Dissolve, thick cloud,
×ÖÄ» and rain; that I may say. He'll make demand of her,
×ÖÄ» and spend that kiss. With thy sharp teeth
×ÖÄ» this knot intrinsicate. Of life at once untie:
×ÖÄ» poor venomous fool. Dost thou not see my
×ÖÄ» baby at my breast. As sweet as balm, as soft
×ÖÄ» as air, as gentle. Now boast thee, death,
×ÖÄ» in thy possession lies. Your crown's awry; I'll
×ÖÄ» mend it, and then play. Shakespeare spent the last few years
×ÖÄ» of his life back in Stratford. He died on this day, in 1616,
×ÖÄ» his fifty-second birthday. Though it is not known exactly how
×ÖÄ» he died, a later account suggests that he had a merry
×ÖÄ» meeting with his mates, He was buried here,
×ÖÄ» at Holy Trinity Church During his life he wrote
×ÖÄ» at least 37 plays, only half of which were published
×ÖÄ» before his death. His winter years showed no let-up
×ÖÄ» in his creative output. In the last season of his life
×ÖÄ» he discovered a lighter pallet Stories that explored
×ÖÄ» the silver-lining From his last plays,
×ÖÄ» Cymbeline, The Winter's Tale and The Tempest a new redemptive
×ÖÄ» power emerged, which still has # My shroud of white,
×ÖÄ» stuck all with yew. # My part of death, no one
×ÖÄ» so true Did share it. # My poor corpse, where my
×ÖÄ» bones shall be thrown. # A thousand thousand sighs
×ÖÄ» to save, Lay me, O, where. # Sad true lover never
×ÖÄ» find my grave, To weep there # ! Shakespeare's tragedies,
×ÖÄ» haunted by death, may plumb the depths of the human experience,
×ÖÄ» but there is one character, in the canon of all his work,
×ÖÄ» which perhaps more than any One incredible comic creation
×ÖÄ» that we could not leave out tonight.
×ÖÄ» The irrepressible Sir John Falstaff,
×ÖÄ» a rogue, a thief, and the close companion
×ÖÄ» of the dissolute playboy Prince Hal. From Henry IV Part One
×ÖÄ» here is the Tavern Scene, where Falstaff pretends to be
×ÖÄ» the King and gives the prince There is a thing, Harry,
×ÖÄ» which thou hast often heard of and it is known to many
×ÖÄ» in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch,
×ÖÄ» as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company
×ÖÄ» thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink
×ÖÄ» but in tears, not in pleasure but in passion, not in words only,
×ÖÄ» but in woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I have
×ÖÄ» often noted in thy company, What manner of man,
×ÖÄ» an it like your majesty? A goodly portly man,
×ÖÄ» i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye
×ÖÄ» and a most noble carriage;
×ÖÄ» and, as I think, his age some fifty, or,
×ÖÄ» by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I remember me,
×ÖÄ» his name is Falstaff: if that man should be lewdly given,
×ÖÄ» he deceiveth me; for, Do thou stand for me,
×ÖÄ» and I'll play my father. If thou dost it half so gravely,
×ÖÄ» so majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up
×ÖÄ» by the heels for a rabbit-sucker The complaints I hear
×ÖÄ» of thee are grievous. 'Sblood, my lord,
×ÖÄ» they are false: nay, I'll tickle ye for a young
×ÖÄ» prince, I' faith. Thou art violently carried away
×ÖÄ» from grace: there is a devil
×ÖÄ» haunts thee in the likeness of an old fat
×ÖÄ» man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse
×ÖÄ» with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness,
×ÖÄ» that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack,
×ÖÄ» that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox
×ÖÄ» with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey
×ÖÄ» iniquity, that father ruffian, Wherein is he good, but to taste
×ÖÄ» sack and drink it? Wherein neat and cleanly,
×ÖÄ» but to carve a capon and eat it? Wherein villainous,
×ÖÄ» but in all things? I would your grace would take me
×ÖÄ» whom means your grace? That villanous abominable
×ÖÄ» misleader of youth, Falstaff, But to say I know more harm in him
×ÖÄ» than in myself, were to That he is old, the more the pity,
×ÖÄ» his white hairs do witness it; but that he is,
×ÖÄ» saving your reverence, If sack and sugar be a fault,
×ÖÄ» God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin,
×ÖÄ» then many an old host that I know is damned:
×ÖÄ» if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean
×ÖÄ» kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto,
×ÖÄ» banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack Falstaff,
×ÖÄ» kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant
×ÖÄ» Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being,
×ÖÄ» as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company,
×ÖÄ» banish not him thy Harry's company: banish plump Jack,
×ÖÄ» and banish all the world. As I foretold you,
×ÖÄ» were all spirits and And, like the baseless
×ÖÄ» fabric of this vision. The cloud-capp'd towers,
×ÖÄ» the gorgeous palaces. The solemn temples,
×ÖÄ» the great globe itself. Ye all which it inherit,
×ÖÄ» shall dissolve. And, like this insubstantial
×ÖÄ» pageant faded. We are such stuff As dreams are made
×ÖÄ» on, and our little life. Now the hungry lion roars,
×ÖÄ» And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
×ÖÄ» All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow,
×ÖÄ» Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch
×ÖÄ» that lies in woe. Now it is the time of night
×ÖÄ» That the graves all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite,
×ÖÄ» In the church-way paths And we fairies,
×ÖÄ» that do run By the triple Hecate's
×ÖÄ» team, From the presence of the sun, not a mouse Shall
×ÖÄ» disturb this hallow'd house: I am sent with broom before,
×ÖÄ» To sweep the dust behind the door. Through the house give
×ÖÄ» glimmering light. By the dead and drowsy fire,
×ÖÄ» every elf and fairy sprite. # Through this house
×ÖÄ» each fairy stray. Through this palace,
×ÖÄ» with sweet peace. Give me your hands,
×ÖÄ» if we be friends, If you want to discover more about
×ÖÄ» Shakespeare, go to the website. Follow the links to the open
×ÖÄ» University.