Tuesday, 29 April 2014

Shakespeare 450th Birth Anniversary Festival – Bharat, Blighty & the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone, one-man Play by Madhav Sharma, Apr 21, 2014

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. 

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

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. 

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.

The wonderful one-man play, lasting about 90 mins ended on a sombre note. Applause broke out from the enthralled audience which had been watching fully engrossed. Thus ended the world premiere of Bharat, Blighty & the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone in Fort Kochi on Apr 21, 2014. We were all proud of the moment, and wondered at our good luck in having watched the play the very first time it was unfurled before the public. The Bangaloreans will now see it, and then the Calcuttans, as Madhav and Miranda fly to B’lore on Apr 28, 2014 to play at the Jagriti Theatre.

Passages from Shakespeare used in the one-man play Bharat, Blighty & the Bard – Shakespeare for Everyone

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.
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.
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.
Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
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.
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!
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.
[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
'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.
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
What shall I swear by?
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.
If my heart's dear love--
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!
O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
And yet I would it were to give again.
Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
Cymbeline: Act IV Sc. ii - Guiderius, Arviragus.
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.
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.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
Hamlet: Act III Sc. i - 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.
…. 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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