Sit like Roab imperiall on my back,
That under thee I closer may contrive
My vengeance; foul deeds hid do sweetly thrive:
Mischeif erect thy throne and sit in state
Here, here upon this head; let fools fear fate.
Thus I defie my starrs, I care not I
How low I tumble down, so I mount high.
Old time I'le wait bare-headed at thy heels,
and be a foot-boy to thy winged hours;
They shall not tell one Minute out in sands,
But I'le set down the number, I'le stil wake,
And wast these bals of sight by tossing them,
In busy observations upon thee.
Sweet opportunity I'le bind my self
To thee in base apprentice-hood so long,
Till on thy naked scalp grown hair as thick
As mine: and all hands shal lay hold on thee,
and be a foot-boy to thy winged hours;
They shall not tell one Minute out in sands,
But I'le set down the number, I'le stil wake,
And wast these bals of sight by tossing them,
In busy observations upon thee.
Sweet opportunity I'le bind my self
To thee in base apprentice-hood so long,
Till on thy naked scalp grown hair as thick
As mine: and all hands shal lay hold on thee,
If thou wilt lend me but thy rusty sithe,
To cut down all that stand within my wrongs,
And my revenge. Love dance in twenty formes
Upon my beauty, that this Spanish dame
May be bewitch'd, and doat, her armorous
flames
Shall blow up the old King. Consume his Sons,
And make all Spain a bonefire.
This Tragedie beeing acted hers does begin,
To shed a harlots blood can be no sin.
flames
Shall blow up the old King. Consume his Sons,
And make all Spain a bonefire.
This Tragedie beeing acted hers does begin,
To shed a harlots blood can be no sin.
.....................................................
Oh for more work, more souls to post to hell;
that I might pile up Charons boat so full,
Untill it topple o're, Oh 'twould be sport
To see them sprawl through the black slimy
lake.
and
Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day--and yet I think
Few come within the compass of my curse--
Wherein I did not some notorious ill:
As kill a man, or else devise his death,
Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it,
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself,
Set deadly enmity bewteen two friends,
Make poor men's cattle break their necks,
Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their
tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their
graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' door,
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
"Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead."
But I have done a thousand dreadful things,
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed,
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
That one's Shakespear's: Titus Andronicus. The first passage makes me shiver, god I love the language. Reading of Charons boat and the dead sprawling in the black slimy lake makes me clench my fists and laugh as though the credit and triumph were mine. Oh yes, the more evil the better...and the second, though without motivation except for apparent amusement, reminds me so much of Iago...hahaha, ok, call me a dork, but I melt in this stuff...
As a freshman, I prided myself in that I was able to interpret the language of Romeo and Juliet where my classmates misunderstood. Ok, so maybe that's just a narrowly-observed view, but to me, it was as if I was the only one who gasped at the nurse's words when she told of juliet, who had fallen and hurt her forehead as a child, "Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy face?...
Thou will fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule? ...and, pretty fool, it stinted, said Ay"
alright...my ego may have been stroked a bit...Mrs. Sheatzle was my teacher then, and I discussed everything I could with her as well.
After class I asked, "He's saying she'll fall back in the act of sex when she grows older isn't he?"...though I don't think she liked that question, as she seemed a little lost at the word sex, she smiled and was pretty enthusiastic towards it. To be completely conceited, I don't think she'd come to that conclusion herself. However, whether I was feeding vanity; looking for admiration or not, I adore this literature, especially the discussion of it. Even if I've only read one passage of Lust's Dominion (that first passage), one story of The Canterbury Tales, heard one excerpt from Paradise Lost, and knowing so little as I do of Shakespear, I'll babble on and on and on...usually leaving important parts of sentence structure out of my speech in excitement, and sounding like too much of a hassle to listen to as I try to reword, go back, "wait, before that..." But even if I am spouting one continuous sentence, you'd be able to see my excitement if you watch me...
as you probably won't hear much...nothing, at least, that's too discernable...
(but...was my gasp out of embarrasment or realization? both I think...I was a ninth grader *shrug* hehe, as though I wouldn't be embarrassed now, sheesh! *shakes head*...)
Oh for more work, more souls to post to hell;
that I might pile up Charons boat so full,
Untill it topple o're, Oh 'twould be sport
To see them sprawl through the black slimy
lake.
and
The Deceiver:
Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day--and yet I think
Few come within the compass of my curse--
Wherein I did not some notorious ill:
As kill a man, or else devise his death,
Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it,
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself,
Set deadly enmity bewteen two friends,
Make poor men's cattle break their necks,
Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their
tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their
graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' door,
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
"Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead."
But I have done a thousand dreadful things,
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed,
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
That one's Shakespear's: Titus Andronicus. The first passage makes me shiver, god I love the language. Reading of Charons boat and the dead sprawling in the black slimy lake makes me clench my fists and laugh as though the credit and triumph were mine. Oh yes, the more evil the better...and the second, though without motivation except for apparent amusement, reminds me so much of Iago...hahaha, ok, call me a dork, but I melt in this stuff...
As a freshman, I prided myself in that I was able to interpret the language of Romeo and Juliet where my classmates misunderstood. Ok, so maybe that's just a narrowly-observed view, but to me, it was as if I was the only one who gasped at the nurse's words when she told of juliet, who had fallen and hurt her forehead as a child, "Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy face?...
Thou will fall backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule? ...and, pretty fool, it stinted, said Ay"
alright...my ego may have been stroked a bit...Mrs. Sheatzle was my teacher then, and I discussed everything I could with her as well.
After class I asked, "He's saying she'll fall back in the act of sex when she grows older isn't he?"...though I don't think she liked that question, as she seemed a little lost at the word sex, she smiled and was pretty enthusiastic towards it. To be completely conceited, I don't think she'd come to that conclusion herself. However, whether I was feeding vanity; looking for admiration or not, I adore this literature, especially the discussion of it. Even if I've only read one passage of Lust's Dominion (that first passage), one story of The Canterbury Tales, heard one excerpt from Paradise Lost, and knowing so little as I do of Shakespear, I'll babble on and on and on...usually leaving important parts of sentence structure out of my speech in excitement, and sounding like too much of a hassle to listen to as I try to reword, go back, "wait, before that..." But even if I am spouting one continuous sentence, you'd be able to see my excitement if you watch me...
as you probably won't hear much...nothing, at least, that's too discernable...
(but...was my gasp out of embarrasment or realization? both I think...I was a ninth grader *shrug* hehe, as though I wouldn't be embarrassed now, sheesh! *shakes head*...)