- |#Shakespearesaysitbetter
- |#Shakespearesaysitbetter
- abuse
- achievement
- advantage/benefit
- adversity
- advice
- age/experience
- ambition
- anger
- appearance
- authority
- betrayal
- blame
- business
- caution
- cited in law
- civility
- claim
- clarity/precision
- communication
- complaint
- concern
- conflict
- conscience
- consequence
- conspiracy
- contract
- corruption
- courage
- custom
- death
- debt/obligation
- deceit
- defence
- dignity
- disappointment
- discovery
- dispute
- duty
- emotion and mood
- envy
- equality
- error
- evidence
- excess
- failure
- fashion/trends
- fate/destiny
- flattery
- flaw/fault
- foul play
- free will
- friendship
- good and bad
- grief
- guilt
- gullibility
- haste
- honesty
- honour
- hope/optimism
- identity
- imagination
- independence
- ingratitude
- innocence
- insult
- integrity
- intellect
- invented or popularised
- judgment
- justice
- justification
- language
- law/legal
- lawyers
- leadership
- learning/education
- legacy
- life
- love
- loyalty
- madness
- manipulation
- marriage
- memory
- mercy
- merit
- misc.
- misquoted
- money
- nature
- negligence
- news
- offence
- order/society
- opportunity
- patience
- perception
- persuasion
- pity
- plans/intentions
- poverty and wealth
- preparation
- pride
- promise
- proverbs and idioms
- purpose
- punishment
- reason
- regret
- relationship
- remedy
- reputation
- respect
- resolution
- revenge
- reply
- risk
- rivalry
- ruin
- satisfaction
- secrecy
- security
- skill/talent
- sorrow
- status
- still in use
- suspicion
- temptation
- time
- trust
- truth
- uncertainty
- understanding
- unity/collaboration
- value
- vanity
- virtue
- wellbeing
- wisdom
- work
QUOTES FROM THE BARD
The ruin speaks that sometime it was a worthy building
ACT/SCENE: 4.2
SPEAKER: Caius Lucius
CONTEXT:
CAIUS LUCIUS
Dream often so,
And never false. Soft, ho! what trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How! a page!
Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead rather;
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let’s see the boy’s face.
CAPTAIN
He’s alive, my lord.
CAIUS LUCIUS
He’ll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou makest thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath alter’d that good picture? What’s thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
What art thou?
IMOGEN
I am nothing: or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas!
There is no more such masters: I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.
CAIUS LUCIUS
‘Lack, good youth!
Thou movest no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.
IMOGEN
Richard du Champ.
If I do lie and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
They’ll pardon it.—Say you, sir?
DUTCH:
Doch, welk een stam is dit ,
Van top beroofd? De puinhoop toont, dat dit
Een trotsch gebouw geweest is.
MORE:
Sometime=Once upon a time
Worthy=Grand
Defunct=Dead
Otherwise=Differently
Wreck=Ruin
Occident=West
Service=Employment
Compleat:
Somewhile=Te eeniger tyd
Worthy=Waardig, eerwaardig, voortreffelyk, uytmuntend, deftig
Defunct=Overleeden
To wreck or go to wrack=Verlooren gaan, te gronde gaan
Occident=Het westen
Service=Dienstbaarheid
Topics: nature, death, honour, virtue, work, loyalty
What’s thy interest in this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it? What art thou?
PLAY: Cymbeline
ACT/SCENE: 4.2
SPEAKER: Caius Lucius
CONTEXT:
CAIUS LUCIUS
Dream often so,
And never false. Soft, ho! what trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How! a page!
Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead rather;
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let’s see the boy’s face.
CAPTAIN
He’s alive, my lord.
CAIUS LUCIUS
He’ll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou makest thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath alter’d that good picture? What’s thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
What art thou?
IMOGEN
I am nothing: or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas!
There is no more such masters: I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.
CAIUS LUCIUS
‘Lack, good youth!
Thou movest no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.
IMOGEN
Richard du Champ.
If I do lie and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
They’ll pardon it.—Say you, sir?
DUTCH:
En wat is uw verlies
Bij deze droeve schipbreuk? Hoe gebeurde ‘t?
Wie is hij? Wie zijt gij?
MORE:
Sometime=Once upon a time
Worthy=Grand
Defunct=Dead
Otherwise=Differently
Wreck=Ruin
Occident=West
Service=Employment
Compleat:
Somewhile=Te eeniger tyd
Worthy=Waardig, eerwaardig, voortreffelyk, uytmuntend, deftig
Defunct=Overleeden
To wreck or go to wrack=Verlooren gaan, te gronde gaan
Occident=Het westen
Service=Dienstbaarheid
Let proof speak
PLAY: Cymbeline
ACT/SCENE: 3.1
SPEAKER: Caius Lucius
CONTEXT:
CYMBELINE
Thou art welcome, Caius.
Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent
Much under him; of him I gather’d honour;
Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for
Their liberties are now in arms; a precedent
Which not to read would show the Britons cold:
So Caesar shall not find them.
CAIUS LUCIUS
Let proof speak.
CLOTEN
His majesty bids you welcome. Make
pastime with us a day or two, or longer: if
you seek us afterwards in other terms, you
shall find us in our salt-water girdle: if you
beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in
the adventure, our crows shall fare the better
for you; and there’s an end.
DUTCH:
De strijd besliss’.
MORE:
Utterance=Extremity (Fr. ‘outrance’), at any price
Perfect=Fully aware
Read=Follow, interpret
Show=Make appear
Proof=The outcome
Adventure=Attempt
Compleat:
Utter=Gansch, geheel, uiterst
To be perfect n a thing=Iets wel van buiten kennen; in wyn hoofd hebben
Adventure=Avontuur, kans, hach; ‘t Gene men ter zee waagt
Topics: order/society, status, honour, dispute, achievent, failure
I do condemn mine ears that have so long attended thee
PLAY: Cymbeline
ACT/SCENE: 1.6
SPEAKER: Imogen
CONTEXT:
IMOGEN
Away! I do condemn mine ears that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek’st,—as base as strange.
Thou wrong’st a gentleman, who is as far
From thy report as thou from honour, and
Solicit’st here a lady that disdains
Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio!
The king my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault: if he shall think it fit,
A saucy stranger in his court to mart
As in a Romish stew and to expound
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
He little cares for and a daughter who
He not respects at all. What, ho, Pisanio!
IACHIMO
O happy Leonatus! I may say
The credit that thy lady hath of thee
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
Her assured credit. Blessed live you long!
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
Country call’d his! and you his mistress, only
For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon.
I have spoke this, to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted; and shall make your lord,
That which he is, new o’er: and he is one
The truest manner’d; such a holy witch
That he enchants societies into him;
Half all men’s hearts are his.
IMOGEN
You make amends.
DUTCH:
Van hier! — Mijn oor is schuldig, dat zoo lang
Geluisterd heeft! — Waart gij een man van eer,
Dan hadt ge uit lust tot deugd mij dit gemeld,
Niet met een doel, zoo snood en ongehoord.
MORE:
Saucy=Impudent
To mart=Do business
Stew=Brothel
Credit=Good opinion
Assured credit=Loyalty
Affiance=Faith
Societies=Groups
Compleat:
Saucy=Stout, onbeschaamd, baldaadig
Mart=Jaarmarkt
Stew, stew-house=Hoerhuys
Credit=Geloof, achting, aanzien, goede naam
Affiance=Vertrouwen, hoop
Society=Gezelschap, gemeenschap, gezelligheyd, genootschap, maatschap
Topics: anger, virtue, honour, plans/intentions, trust
Think’st thou it honourable for a noble man still to remember wrongs?
PLAY: Coriolanus
ACT/SCENE: 5.3
SPEAKER: Volumnia
CONTEXT:
VOLUMNIA
Nay, go not from us thus.
If it were so that our request did tend
To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit
Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
May say ‘This mercy we have show’d;’ the Romans,
‘This we received;’ and each in either side
Give the all-hail to thee and cry ‘Be blest
For making up this peace!’ Thou know’st, great son,
The end of war’s uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
Whose repetition will be dogg’d with curses;
Whose chronicle thus writ: ‘The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
Destroy’d his country, and his name remains
To the ensuing age abhorr’d.’ Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’ the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think’st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons. There’s no man in the world
More bound to ‘s mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i’ the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show’d thy dear mother any courtesy,
When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has cluck’d thee to the wars and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request’s unjust,
And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain’st from me the duty which
To a mother’s part belongs. He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus ‘longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
This is the last: so we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold ‘s:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have
But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny ‘t. Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli and his child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
I am hush’d until our city be a-fire,
And then I’ll speak a little.
DUTCH:
Nog spreekt gij niet?
Acht gij ‘t een eed’len man betamend , eeuwig
Te wrokken om een krenking?
MORE:
Fine strains=Refinements, niceties
Affect=Aimed at, pretended to have
Bolt=Lightning
Rive=Split
Compleat:
Affect=Naäapen
Affectation=Gemaaktheid
Rive (asunder(=Opscheuren, opsplyten, opbarsten
Topics: honour, appearance