Shakespare Speeches

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SEarch: Queen Mab in Romeo , The Tennis speech in HEnry V , Flower Speech in Hamlet
DEstroy : I dont know

― anthony, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

Search: The closing lines of King Lear, uttered by Edgar:

In these sad times we must obey, say what we think, not what we ought to say. The old hath borne much, and we that are young shall never see so much nor live so long.

Or something like that, anyway. Beautiful stuff.

― toraneko, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

Fatal vision speech by Macbeth. Prospero's 'farewell' speech.

― Ned Raggett, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

'The readiness is all' in Hamlet.

― Ryan, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

These are the forgeries of jealousy:

And never, since the middle summer's spring,

Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,

By paved fountain or by rushy brook,

Or in the beached margent of the sea,

To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,

But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.

Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,

As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea

Contagious fogs; which falling in the land

Have every pelting river made so proud

That they have overborne their continents:

The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,

The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn

Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;

The fold stands empty in the drowned field,

And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;

The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,

And the quaint mazes in the wanton green

For lack of tread are undistinguishable:

The human mortals want their winter cheer;

No night is now with hymn or carol blest:

Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,

Pale in her anger, washes all the air,

That rheumatic diseases do abound:

And thorough this distemperature we see

The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts

Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,

And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown

An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds

Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,

The childing autumn, angry winter, change

Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,

By their increase, now knows not which is which:

And this same progeny of evils comes

From our debate, from our dissension;

We are their parents and original.

― mark s, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

Database Query Reply

Titania

Sorry

― mark s, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

It's too long to reproduce here, but I like Jaques' speech in 'As You Like It', where he tells the Duke he wants to be have the motley suit -- and the license -- of a Fool.

Load this page , search for the word 'jars', and you'll find it.

'If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.'

― Momus, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

When I was in high school and a METAL GOFF my favorite was by Christopher Marlowe, from Tamburlaine:

Well, bark, ye dogs: I'll bridle all your tongues,
And bind them close with bits of burnish'd steel,
Down to the channels of your hateful throats;
And, with the pains my rigour shall inflict,
I'll make ye roar, that earth may echo forth
The far-resounding torments ye sustain

But it now sounds a bit "straight" to mine ears, even if it is very well-written. I was also partial to Macbeth's "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow" speech, for pure angsty doom etc.

― Tracer Hand, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

The tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow soliloquy is about the only piece of poetry I know by heart. It's not just angsty doom. 'All our yesterdays have lighted fools their way to dusty death'. 'A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing'. Jesus, it doesn't get much better than that.

― N., Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

We did Morris Dancing at school. Maybe more fun than barn dancing.

― toraneko, Saturday, 2 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

Nick, me too. However, I learnt it for a most innnoble cause- I never really liked Shakespeare, but felt that I should be able to recite poetry, because I am, and always have been, an utter ponce. I was about 7 at the time, and going through my (eep) GOTH period. Admittedly, I didn't know what a goth was, but I was a pallid coffin- loving romantic-notioned poetry reciting fool. I still hate Shakespeare.

― emil.y, Sunday, 3 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

The speech where MacB makes his mind up:

And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubins, horsed
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind.

― Sam, Monday, 4 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

Destroy: Anything with nuncle in it. Search: Anything with norange in it.

― Pete, Monday, 4 February 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)

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