English 90 - Quotes

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Now might I do it pat, now he is praying, And now I'll do 't. [He draws his sword.] And so he goes to heaven, And so am I revenged. That would be scanned: A villain kills my father, and for that, I, his sole son, do this same villain send To heaven.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.3.77-83) Once again, Hamlet finds a reason to not kill Claudius. His rationale? He says he doesn't want to murder him while the man is praying because he's afraid he'll send Claudius' soul straight to "heaven." Revenge, for Hamlet, isn't simply about killing Claudius —it's about making sure he suffers in Hell, just like he thinks his father is doing.

You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.

Macbeth - Banquo; (1.3.47-49) "Should" be: why? Because they look like women, or because they're obviously supernatural? And does the presence of a beard automatically disqualify someone from being a woman? (Don't tell the moustache-bleaching industry.)

Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?

Macbeth - Banquo; (1.3.86-88) Translation: "Are we tripping?" (We would insert a cautionary PSA about saying "No" to drugs, but we think Macbeth is a pretty good cautionary tale on its own.)

So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe. Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds Or memorize another Golgotha, I cannot tell—

Macbeth - Captain; (1.2.42-45) Check out how the captain describes the battle: as "another Golgotha." But Golgotha is traditionally the place where Christ was said to have been crucified. To us, that sounds like a pretty ominous way of describing the battlefield.

Supply me with the habit, and instruct me How I may formally in person bear me Like a true friar. More reasons for this action At our more leisure shall I render you.

M4M - Duke; (1.3.50-53) When the Duke disguises himself as a holy friar and spies on his subjects, he acts like an all-seeing, all-knowing, god figure. At the same time, however, Duke Vincentio's behavior seems pretty sacrilegious, especially when he goes around taking peoples' confessions.

All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! [...] Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

Macbeth - 3rd witch; (1.3.53;70-71) Tra-la-la, there goes Macbeth innocently walking along when all of sudden the witches show up to tempt him by talking about the awesome power that's going to be his. Right? Or are they just giving voice to his secret desire?

My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow.—Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland; which honor must Not unaccompanied invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers.—From hence to Inverness And bind us further to you.

Macbeth - Duncan; (1.4.39-49) When King Duncan names his son, Malcolm, the Prince of Cumberland, he's essentially naming him the heir apparent to the throne. Fun fact: he's seriously out of order here, since Scotland was an elective monarchy at the time. This is all Macbeth needs to decide that Malcolm and King Duncan are nothing but an obstacle in his path to ultimate power.

[...] I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me. I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.7.62-67) Here, Lady Macbeth takes breastfeeding —one of the fundamental biological traits of women as the Early Modern period saw it—makes it monstrous. She says that she's so good at keeping promises that she would actually kill a nursing child if she'd promised to do it. What's funny (not funny ha-ha) to us is that Macbeth has promised to kill his king, i.e. father figure; Lady Macbeth is talking about killing her child. Hmmm.

LADY MACBETH O, proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear. This is the air-drawn dagger which you said Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, Impostors to true fear, would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all's done, You look but on a stool.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (3.4.73-81) Okay, Lady Macbeth. It's easy to make fun of your poor husband when he's the one having the visions. You won't be laughing as hard when you're the one trying wash an invisible bloodstain out of your hand.

She did deceive her father, marrying you, [...] And so she did.

Othello- Iago & Othello; 3.3.238, 241) When Iago wants to make Othello suspect Desdemona's been unfaithful, he suggests a woman who disobeys and "deceive[s] her father is likely to screw around on her husband. Othello's response implies that he feels the same way. Instead of seeing Desdemona's decision to elope with Othello (despite her father's disapproval) as a sign of his wife's loyalty to him, Othello sees Desdemona's willingness to elope as a prelude to her infidelity. It seems that Othello's sexist assumptions leave him pretty vulnerable to Iago's plotting.

Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.

TWT - 1st Gentleman; (5.2.1) The revelation of Perdita's true identity and her reunion with her father is a "wonder[ous]" moment, according to the First Gentleman. So wondrous, in fact, that we wonder why we learn about the reunion second hand. Why doesn't Shakespeare stage this joyous moment for his audience to witness first hand?

Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.15) Leontes says that looking into his son's face takes him back to his own boyhood, when he was "unbreech'd" (before he was old enough to wear "breeches" or pants - in Shakespeare's time, boys wore dresses until they were about seven or eight). In other words, when he looks at Mamillius, he sees himself as a young boy. Here, Leontes also expresses an idea that occurs throughout the play. That is, children are often portrayed as smaller versions or exact "copies" of their parents. Compare this passage to 2.3.12 and 5.1.11 below.

Ay me! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Lysander; (1.1.134-136) This is one of the most famous lines of the play, and for good reason. Lysander's declaration pretty much sums up the play's notion that lovers always face difficult hurdles on the path to happiness—whether it's a disapproving parent, rival lover, or something else. In the play, Shakespeare makes this "love is an obstacle course" metaphor very literal when the young Athenians go chasing each other around the wood in pursuit of love. We're also interested in the way Lysander locates his love for Hermia in a long, rich "tradition." For Lysander, love is epic and the stuff of great literature and history.

This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Hamlet - Polonius; (1.3.84-86) Polonius likes to dish advice, but he sure can't take it. Given Polonius' penchant for spying on his children and Hamlet in order to curry favor with King Claudius, he's not in any position to be talking about truth.

"The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp." We'll none of that: that have I told my love In glory of my kinsman Hercules. "The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage." That is an old device, and it was played When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. "The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of Learning, late deceased in beggary." That is some satire, keen and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. "A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth." "Merry" and "tragical"? "Tedious" and "brief"? That is hot ice and wondrous strange snow! How shall we find the concord of this discord?

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (5.1.48-64) All of the possible entertainments are art in some form or another, a retelling of "true" events for a different purpose. In this list, we see that art might also be the act of presenting different versions of reality. It is entertaining for the mind to stretch this way, to consider more than what comes naturally to one's own version of reality.

What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? Mad as the sea and wind when both contend Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit, Behind the arras hearing something stir, Whips out his rapier, cries 'A rat, a rat,' And in this brainish apprehension, kills The unseen good old man.

Hamlet - Claudius & Gertrude; (4.1.6-12) This is an incredibly interesting passage. In the previous passage, Hamlet tells Gertrude that he isn't crazy but he asks her to lie and tell Claudius that he is in fact mad. As we can see here, Gertrude tells the king that Hamlet's as "mad as the sea and wind." Why does she do this? Is she trying to protect her son by lying to Claudius? Or, does she really think Hamlet's gone off the deep end? Where do Gertrude's loyalties lie at this point in the play?

Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? At supper. At supper where? Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service—two dishes but to one table. That's the end.

Hamlet - Claudius & Hamlet; (4.3.19-28) Hamlet tells Claudius that Polonius is "at supper," but what he really means is that Polonius is being eaten for supper. (There goes our appetite.) Is this part of his "antic disposition" or is this really how Hamlet sees things?

Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake To show yourself indeed your father's son More than in words? To cut his throat i' th' church. No place indeed should murder sanctuarize; Revenge should have no bounds.

Hamlet - Claudius & Laertes; (4.7.141-146) Now here's a revenge hero the groundlings can get behind: revenge is a higher ideal even than church—or so Claudius tells Laertes. But, come on, would you trust the guy?

I am justly killed with mine own treachery.

Hamlet - Laertes; (5.2.337) Well, that about sums it up: like every other deceptive character, Laertes dies because of that deception. Shmoop out.

Nay, but I know 'tis so. I saw him arrested, saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off.

M4M - Bawd; (1.2.64-66) Yikes! In Vienna, fornication is a sin and also a capital crime, which is why Claudio the fornicator has been hauled off to prison and sentenced to death.

And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl In very likeness of a roasted crab, And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her withered dewlap pour the ale. The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her bum, down topples she, And "tailor" cries, and falls into a cough, And then the whole choir hold their hips and laugh, And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear A merrier hour was never wasted there.

Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck (2.1.49-59) Puck's magic is less mean-spirited than mischievous. He likes to play practical jokes that have the same homespun, playful nature of the villagers he teases. Most importantly, his magic, though naughty, is not wicked. The point is to make people be merry, as laughter is its own kind of magic.

Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely, but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme;

Othello- Othello; (5.2.402-406) Othello begs to be spoken of as a man so "perplex'd" that he didn't know what he was doing when he accused Desdemona of infidelity and murdered her. He doesn't want to be remembered as a man who was "easily jealous." Why is that?

Now, the melancholy god protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal.

Twelfth Night - Feste; (2.4.80-82) When Feste says Orsino ought to wear a "taffeta" doublet, he gives voice to the idea that Orsino is moody, fickle, and silly. (Taffeta is a fabric woven of various colored threads, which gives it an iridescent quality that changes color depending on the angle at which it's viewed.) If Orsino were to wear a taffeta coat, his costume would match his "changeable" mind, which has been made "melancholy" by the Duke's obsession with love. Shakespeare beats us over the head with the idea that love, especially the Duke's self-love, is utterly ridiculous.

A sentence is but a chev'ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!

Twelfth Night - Feste; (3.1.311-313) Feste's claim that sayings are like kidskin ("cheveril") gloves suggests that words are easily twisted or turned inside out. Feste's right, of course, and he's a master of witty wordplay, punning, etc. His remarks about language (and his spirited twisting of words throughout the play) are in keeping with the spirit of Twelfth Night festivities, where the world is temporarily "turned upside down" and inside out.

I could not stay behind you. My desire, More sharp than filèd steel, did spur me forth; And not all love to see you, though so much As might have drawn one to a longer voyage, But jealousy what might befall your travel, Being skill-less in these parts, which to a stranger, Unguided and unfriended, often prove Rough and unhospitable. My willing love, The rather by these arguments of fear. Set forth in your pursuit.

Twelfth Night - Antonio; (3.3.4-13) There's no denying the intimacy of the relationship between Antonio and Sebastian, particularly when Antonio proclaims his devotion and willingness to risk his life to be with his beloved friend. Antonio says that he is driven by "desire," "jealousy," and "love" to follow Sebastian to Illyria, where Antonio is a wanted man. Just as Duke Orsino compares the experience of erotic love to a physically piercing "shaft" (see 1.1.4 above), Antonio suggests that his desire for Sebastian is "more sharp than filed steel" (an arrow, spear, sword - whatever). This language not only gets at the sense that Antonio's love causes him physical suffering and heartache, but it also consistent with the imagery of sexual penetration we see elsewhere. While it's not clear if Antonio and Sebastian are lovers or just very close friends (though, one doesn't necessarily preclude the other), Antonio's affection is consistent with the kinds of erotic (both hetero- and homoerotic) desire we see throughout Twelfth Night. Note: "Homoerotic" just refers to erotic emotions that are directed toward a person of the same sex. It can be helpful to note that homoerotic relationships and strong male friendships are quite common in Shakespeare's work. See especially the relationship between Antonio and Bassanio in The Merchant of Venice and the relationship between the Poet and the young man in the Sonnets. History Snack: Elizabethans didn't see sexual orientation in black and white terms. While plenty of people (especially 16th-century Puritans) were opposed to same-sex couplings, the concept of "homosexual" identity vs. "heterosexual" identity didn't even exist. Nor did it play a role in forming one's identity in the way that sexual orientation does today. In Impersonations: The Performance of Gender in Shakespeare's England, Stephen Orgel writes the following: "As proliferating studies in the history of sexuality have shown, the binary division between of sexual appetites into normative heterosexual and deviant homosexual is a very recent invention; neither homosexuality nor heterosexuality existed as categories for the Renaissance mind" (59).

Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. [...] How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly, And I, poor monster, fond as much on him,

Twelfth Night - Viola (Cesario); (2.2.27-28; 33-34) When Viola learns that Olivia is in love with "Cesario," she blames her "disguise," as though the act of cross-dressing is solely to blame for Olivia's attraction to her. It's a bit peculiar that Shakespeare (whose livelihood as a theatrical professional depends on the conventions of a transvestite stage) would put such words in the mouth of his heroine. It's especially peculiar given that harsh critics of the theater claimed that cross-dressing was a wicked and dangerous activity because it made it impossible to distinguish between men and women. Does Viola's speech mean the play is apologetic for portraying cross-dressed performances? Well, even though Viola might feel bad about the problems her disguise causes Olivia, we're leaning toward "no," especially given the fact that play goes out of its way to leave Viola on stage in her man-clothes at the end of the play. History Snack: Under "Historical Documents," we've provided you with a link to Philip Stubbes's anti-theater rant in The Anatomy of Abuses (1583), but, just for fun, we thought we'd give you a little sneak preview of what 16th century Puritans thought about cross-dressing. Note Stubbes's use of the term "monster," which Viola echoes in her speech (above): "Our apparel was given as a sign distinctive, to discern betwixt sex and sex, and therefore one to wear the apparel of another sex, is [...] to adulterate the verity of his own kind [...] these women [who cross-dress] may not improperly be called Hermaphroditi, that is Monsters of both kinds, half women, half men." Where does Stubbes get this idea? From Deuteronomy 22:5. Here's the passage from the 1560 Geneva Bible: "The woman shal not weare that which perteineth unto the man, nether shal a man put on womans raiment: for all that do so, are abominacion unto the Lord thy God."

I am not what I am.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (3.1.148) "Cesario's" cryptic statement to Olivia, who has fallen in love with "him," is both revealing and concealing. Olivia has no idea that "Cesario" is really Viola in disguise. The audience, however, knows that "Cesario" is not what "he" appears to be. "Cesario" suggests that "he" is neither a boy nor an appropriate object for Olivia to love.

Lysander, keep thy Hermia. I will none. If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone. My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourned, And now to Helen is it home returned, There to remain.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Demetrius; (3.2.72-76) Demetrius has been enchanted, which should excuse him, but remember that this will be his second transformation in love. First he loved Helena, then he loved Hermia, and now he loves Helena again. Though we know this last transformation was caused by magic, he was fickle even before being enchanted.

I see their knavery. This is to make an ass of me, to fright me, if they could.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Bottom; (3.1.122-123) Of course, when Bottom accuses his friends of trying to "make an ass" of him, it's funny to us because we know something that Bottom doesn't—he literally has been made into an ass. (Also, his name, Bottom, becomes very fitting.)

Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet. I pray thee, stay with us. Go not to Wittenberg.

Hamlet - Gertrude; (1.2.122-123) "Wittenberg" is shorthand for "Protestant," since that's the city and university where Martin Luther wrote his Ninety-five Theses. But the play can't seem to make up its mind about whether or not the play is set in a Catholic or Protestant world—just like England itself, throughout most of the 16th century.

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe, Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Hamlet - Claudius; (1.2.1-7) King Claudius begins by acknowledging Old King Hamlet's death and says it "befitted" the "whole kingdom" to mourn Old Hamlet's loss (emphasis on the past tense.) But, he also asserts that it is "wise" for the "whole kingdom" to move on quickly. Self-interest ("remembrance of ourselves") and self-preservation are both far more important. But why? Well, Claudius, as we will soon learn, is responsible for murdering Old King Hamlet so it's no wonder he wants to sweep the guy's life under the rug. Claudius has also helped himself to Old Hamlet's wife and crown so it's in his best interest if the kingdom moves on and forgets Old Hamlet. Pretty crafty, King Claudius.

Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father. [...] but to persever In obstinate condolement is a course Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief. It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, An understanding simple and unschooled:

Hamlet - Claudius; (1.2.90-92; 96-101) Translation: stop acting so ridiculous about your dead dad. According to King Claudius, Hamlet's excessive grief for his father is "unmanly." Why? Bereavement, says Hamlet's new stepdad/uncle, makes him appear weak, unreasonable, and without discipline —all things associated, in Claudius' mind, with women. Gee, with a role model like this, it's no wonder Hamlet's so messed up.

O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't, A brother's murder.

Hamlet - Claudius; (3.3.40-42) As King Claudius prays, he acknowledges that, by murdering his brother, Old Hamlet, he has brought upon himself the first ("primal") and oldest ("eldest") "curse," which is a reference to the biblical story of Cain, who committed the first murder when he killed his brother Abel (Genesis 4.10-12). Apparently, family feuds go way back. Way back.

Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.

Hamlet - Claudius; (4.5.79) Ophelia's mad ramblings are super problematic to the royal court, as we see here when Claudius orders Horatio to keep a close eye on her. The fact is that Ophelia's babblings about her father's murder could have important political implications. Later, we see just how volatile the realm can be when Laertes leads a rebellion and finds many eager supporters who would help him overthrow King Claudius.

[aside] O, 'tis too true! How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience. The harlot's cheek beautied with plast'ring art Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it Than is my deed to my most painted word. O heavy burden!

Hamlet - Claudius;(3.1.56-62) Unlike Polonius, Claudius knows that all his scheming might catch up with him in the end. What's interesting about this passage is the way his sexist remarks align his own deception with the use of cosmetics. The king compares his "painted word[s]" (every lie he tells) to the way a "harlot" "plasters" her face with makeup. It sounds like, in Hamlet's world, women are fundamentally deceptive.

[...] poor Ophelia Divided from herself and her fair judgment, Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;

Hamlet - Claudius;(4.5.91-93) Here, Claudius describes Ophelia as being "divided from herself." In other words, she's lost her mind. But what causes Ophelia to go mad? Duh: her ex-boyfriend has murdered her father. Right? Well, maybe it's more complex than that. Maybe she's actually just cracked under the patriarchal pressures of the court. Throughout the play, Ophelia is ordered around by her brother and her father and has no control over her social or love life. Madness might just be the only way she has of fighting back.

Why seems it so particular with thee? 'Seems,' madam? Nay it is. I know not 'seems.' 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly. These indeed 'seem,' For they are actions that a man might play; But I have that within which passeth show, These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

Hamlet - Gertrude & Hamlet; (1.2.78-89) When Gertrude asks Hamlet why he "seems" to be taking the death of his father so personally, he responds that no outward behavior on his part (wearing an "inky cloak," sighing, shedding tears, and so on) can "show" what he truly feels inside. If the "trappings" of grief are like a theatrical performance, as Hamlet suggests here, then performance is ultimately ineffective - an actor could never truly capture the kind of anguish Hamlet feels inside. Of course, this inevitably draws our attention to the fact that Hamlet's lines are being spoken by a stage actor, which makes the entire passage seem self-conscious. Just how powerful is performance? Is it possible for an actor to reproduce a feeling like grief in a realistic way?; From his very first scene, Hamlet sets himself up as someone who hates deception and values inner truth above all. Here, he insists that outward appearances (like his "inky" black clothing, sighs, and tears - all the common markers of grief) can't possibly "denote" what's truly inside him. In other words, Hamlet's saying that his anguish and grief over his father's death are far more intense than they appear to the outside world. He's also implying that Gertrude, Claudius, and the rest of the court are totally fake and disingenuous because they don't care about him or his feelings at all and are far too concerned with keeping up appearances.

Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. Mother, you have my father much offended. (3.4.12-13) This is basically Hamlet saying, "Ugh, mom. It's not like he's my real dad"—only classier.

Hamlet - Gertrude & Hamlet; (3.4.12-13) This is basically Hamlet saying, "Ugh, mom. It's not like he's my real dad"—only classier.

He's fat and scant of breath.— Here, Hamlet, take my napkin; rub thy brows. The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet. [She lifts the cup.] Good madam. Gertrude, do not drink. I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me. [She drinks.] It is the poisoned cup. It is too late. I dare not drink yet, madam—by and by. Come, let me wipe thy face.

Hamlet - Gertrude & King & Hamlet; (5.2.313-321) After Gertrude drinks the poisoned wine that Claudius has prepared for Hamlet (does she know it's poisoned?), she tenderly wipes the sweat from her son's brow. This is a rather motherly thing to do, especially if she drinks the wine in order to save her son's life. After all of Hamlet's accusations that Gertrude is a selfish mother, Hamlet finally gets the thing that he seems to want the most —a doting mom who will pay more attention to her son than she does her husband. Aw. We love happy endings.

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailèd lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust. Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.

Hamlet - Gertrude; (1.2.70-75) Even Hamlet's mother, Queen Gertrude, tells Hamlet to stop grieving for his father. Death, she argues, is "common." But, when you think about it, losing a father isn't common. Sure, everyone's parents die—but your particular parents only die once.

There on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke, When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide, And mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up, Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds, As one incapable of her own distress Or like a creature native and endued Unto that element. But long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.

Hamlet - Gertrude; (4.7.197-208) Sure, all this detail makes us wonder if Gertrude didn't actually witness Ophelia's death—and, if so, why didn't she pull the poor girl out? But, we're a little more interested in the way she describes the death, all peaceful and lovely and honestly a little erotic. Is Ophelia sexier in death than she was in life?

I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night And for the day confined to fast in fires Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.

Hamlet - Ghost; (1.5.14-28) Here, the Ghost claims that he's doomed to suffer in Purgatory (often imagined as a fiery place where souls had to "purge" their sins before they could move on to heaven), until young Hamlet avenges his "foul and most unnatural murder" by killing Claudius. Uh-oh. Major problem alert: First, the doctrine of Purgatory doesn't say anything about murder helping Purgatorial souls get to heaven —prayers, sure, but not vengeance. Second, after the Reformation, Protestants rejected the idea of Purgatory as a "Catholic superstition." You can check out our discussion of "Religion" for more on the play's religious crisis, but here's the point: as a Protestant, Hamlet might see the ghost as just a wee bit suspicious.

Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts— O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!—won to his shameful lust The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen. O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine. But virtue, as it never will be moved, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, So, lust, though to a radiant angel linked, Will sate itself in a celestial bed, And prey on garbage.

Hamlet - Ghost; (1.5.49-64) Like Hamlet, the ghost dwells on Gertrude's "seeming" virtue. But is the ghost saying Gertrude cheated on him when they were married? Or, does the ghost merely see her remarriage as a betrayal? We get stuck on the meaning of "adulterate," which, in Elizabethan England could refer to a cheating spouse or any sexual sin in general (like incest). Either way, the ghost implies that Gertrude's remarriage retroactively makes their marriage into a sham.

O horrible, O horrible, most horrible! If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not. Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for luxury and damnèd incest. But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.

Hamlet - Ghost; (1.5.87-95) Like Hamlet, the ghost focuses on Gertrude's sexuality as he urges Hamlet not to let "Denmark be / A couch for luxury and damned incest." Translation: kill Claudius so Gertrude can't sleep with him anymore. Oh, but leave her out of it. (Yeah, right.)

Hamlet - Ghost; (1.5.87-95) The Ghost isn't too happy about Gertrude's "damned incest," but he tells Hamlet to keep her out of things anyway. Surprise! Hamlet can't seem to keep this promise, either. In fact, his obsession with Gertrude is so problematic that the Ghost returns in Act III, scene iv, to tell Hamlet to lay off his mom.

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not, nor it cannot come to good. But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.161-164) Hamlet not only takes issue with his mother's quick remarriage after his father's death, he's also disgusted by the fact that Gertrude is guilty of "incest." (Some critics also speculate that Hamlet secretly wants to sleep with his mother, which you can read about in our "Character Analysis" of Hamlet.) But first, it's time for a history snack. In Shakespeare's time, incest included marrying your in-laws, not just your blood relatives. So, Claudius' marriage to Gertrude is a pretty big deal —they've broken the church's laws of affinity. And there's something more particular about the whole marrying-your-brother thing. Elizabeth I, the Queen of England at the time Hamlet was written, was the daughter of King Henry VIII and Anne of Boleyn (Henry's second wife). Henry divorced his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, on the grounds that she had originally been married to his (dead) older brother, Arthur. Henry asked the Catholic Church to grant a divorce on grounds that his marriage to Catherine was incestuous. By making such a big deal out of Gertrude's remarriage, Shakespeare might be doing his part to assure Queen Elizabeth that her mom's marriage was legitimate.

Nay, but to live In the rank sweat of an enseamèd bed, Stewed in corruption, honeying and making love Over the nasty sty!

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.4.103-106) Wait, Hamlet, tell us again how you think sex is pretty much the most disgusting thing ever. We didn't catch it the first time. Or the second time. Or the... well, you get the point. Hamlet thinks sex is gross.

Now, sir, young Fortinbras, Of unimprovèd mettle hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes For food and diet to some enterprise That hath a stomach in 't; which is no other (As it doth well appear unto our state) But to recover of us, by strong hand And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands So by his father lost

Hamlet - Horatio; (1.1.107-116) Unlike Hamlet, Fortinbras has "mettle hot and full," and his actions have "stomach," i.e. guts. Hm. Is it just us, or does Horatio sound awfully interested in Mr. Fortinbras?

Hamlet - Horatio; (1.1.107-119) Horatio speculates that the Ghost's appearance, in full armor, on the castle battlements is related to Denmark's troubles with Norway. But he's wrong: Old Hamlet's Ghost actually returns to ask his own son to avenge his murder. It seems pretty clear that Shakespeare wants us to pay attention to father-son relationships in this play.

What, has this thing appeared again tonight?

Hamlet - Horatio; (1.1.26) Hm. The Ghost keeps appearing on the castle battlements—almost as if the "whole kingdom" hasn't really been able to move on after Old Hamlet's death.

Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you. He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Polack wars, and you from England, Are here arrived, give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view, And let me speak to the yet unknowing world How these things came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on th' inventors' heads. All this can I Truly deliver.

Hamlet - Horatio; (5.2.413-428) At this moment, after the final bloodbath, Horatio and Fortinbras call for the dead bodies to be placed "high on a stage" to be viewed by the "noblest" "audience" while Horatio tells everybody what's gone down in Elsinore. If we think about it, Horatio and Fortinbras basically turn the royal court into a giant theater. These actions suggest that theater can be a kind of tribute to the dead, like a funeral service). It can also be a place where memory is preserved indefinitely. Hamlet will never be forgotten —he'll live on as long as his story is told. (So, 400+ years... and counting.)

No more be done. We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls. Lay her i' th' earth, And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A minist'ring angel shall my sister be When thou liest howling.

Hamlet - Laertes & Doctor; (5.1.244-252) Since Ophelia's death is suspect, the Priest refuses to do anything more than the bare minimum for Ophelia. But Laertes isn't having it: he thinks that the stingy burial rites aren't doing Ophelia's memory justice. He understands what the priest doesn't: burial services are rituals for the living.

...] but you must fear, His greatness weighed, his will is not his own, For he himself is subject to his birth. He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The safety and health of this whole state. And therefore must his choice be circumscribed Unto the voice and yielding of that body Whereof he is the head.

Hamlet - Laertes; (1.3.19-27) Laertes tells Ophelia that Hamlet can't marry who he wants to—he has to marry for the "safety" of the entire "state." And he's right. If you were rich and powerful in the 16th century, your marriage was an opportunity to forge strategic political, social, and economic alliances. In other words, Laertes insists that a marriage between Ophelia and Hamlet is impossible. Marrying for love? That was for the commoners.

[...] Then if he says he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it As he in his particular act and place May give his saying deed, which is no further Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain If with too credent ear you list his songs Or lose your heart or your chaste treasure open To his unmastered importunity.

Hamlet - Laertes; (1.3.27-36) Here, Laertes tells Ophelia that, if she sleeps with Hamlet, she'll lose her honor. But this isn't a moral argument on the ethics of premarital sex. He's talking about the way Ophelia's chances for a future marriage could be compromised—which is literally a matter of life or death for a young woman.

[...] Then, if he says he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it As he in his particular act and place May give his saying deed, which is no further Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain If with too credent ear you list his songs Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open To his unmaster'd importunity. Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear sister, And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire.

Hamlet - Laertes; (1.3.27-39) Laertes tells her to guard her "chaste treasure" —not because he's interested in chastity as a moral issue (this isn't about Promise Keepers), but because he believes Ophelia's virginity is literally valuable. It'll determine what kind of marriage offers she'll get, and what kind of family she—and he—can align themselves with. History Snack: In Shakespeare's day, there were plenty of handbooks on this matter, including Juan Vives's Education of a Christian Woman, which says a maid "hath within her a treasure without comparison." (Vives's handbook was translated from Latin and published in English in 1592.) Another handbook called A Godly Form of Household Government (1603) says that a woman's virginity is "the best portion, the greatest inheritance, and the most precious jewel" of her dowry. Why all this talk of treasure? Well, in the 16th and 17th centuries, eldest sons inherited all their fathers' wealth, titles, and lands (this is called "Primogeniture"). Marrying a virgin insured (theoretically) that a man's children were legitimate and that the family wealth could be passed on from generation to generation. So, literally, marrying a virgin was like insuring your fortune: just good business.

Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear sister, And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid is prodigal enough, If she unmask her beauty to the moon. Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes. The canker galls the infants of the spring Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then, best safety lies in fear. Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

Hamlet - Laertes; (1.3.37-48) Laertes insists that Ophelia should fear premarital sex because a "deflowered" woman is seen as damaged goods that no man will want to marry. This speech is also full of vivid innuendo, as when he compares intercourse to a "canker" worm invading and injuring a delicate flower before its buds, or "buttons," have had time to open (1.3.39-40). Nice. It's not quite as creepy as Hamlet's fixation with his mom, but it's pretty close.

How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with. To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand, That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes, only I'll be revenged Most thoroughly for my father.

Hamlet - Laertes; (4.5.148-154) Compared to Hamlet, Laertes is like a little vengeance roadrunner: when he learns that his father's dead, he returns from France immediately, storms the Danish castle, and promises that he'll be "revenged." But Claudius eventually convinces Laertes to pursue a more roundabout path to vengeance. The intricate plot to lure Hamlet into a "friendly" duel recalls the kind of plotting (which results in more delay) that we've seen from young Hamlet. Do Claudius and Hamlet have more in common than they'd want to admit?

Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears. But yet It is our trick; nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will. When these are gone, The woman will be out.—Adieu, my lord. I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it.

Hamlet - Laertes; (4.7.211-217) When Laertes learns that Ophelia has drowned, he associates his watery tears with the "too much water" Ophelia has inside her. But grief doesn't appear to be very manly —he says that as soon as his tears dry up "the woman will be out" of him. Does that mean Hamlet has been acting like a woman this whole play? And is that maybe one reason he seems to have such a bee in his bonnet about them?

O, treble woe Fall ten times treble on that cursèd head, Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense Deprived thee of!—Hold off the earth awhile, Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.

Hamlet - Laertes; (5.1.258-262) Here, Laertes leaps into Ophelia's grave so he can hold "her once more in [his] arms." Oh, and this happens right before he fights with Ophelia's ex-boyfriend about who loves Ophelia the most. Traces of incestuous desire? Uh, yeah.

I shall the effect of this good lesson keep As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own rede.

Hamlet - Ophelia; (1.3.49-55) After Laertes warns his little sister to keep her legs closed, Ophelia points out the double standard at work in Laertes's advise. In other words, our girl's not afraid to tell her bro that he's got no room to talk about chastity, especially given that he's been running around like a "puff'd and reckless libertine." Ophelia's remarks here also demonstrate that she's not necessarily the wimp some literary critics paint her to be. Here, she gives as good as she gets. So, why does she end up drowning in a brook?

My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; No hat upon his head, his stockings fouled, Ungartered, and down-gyvèd to his ankle, Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosèd out of hell To speak of horrors—he comes before me. [...] He took me by the wrist and held me hard. Then goes he to the length of all his arm, And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it. Long stayed he so. At last, a little shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus waving up and down, He raised a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being. That done, he lets me go, And, with his head over his shoulder turned, He seem'd to find his way without his eyes, For out o' doors he went without their helps And to the last bended their light on me.

Hamlet - Ophelia; (2.1.87-94, 899-112) Elizabethans thought that love really could make a man sick and mentally ill. They called this state "love melancholy." Check out what a doctor, Bernard Gordon, had to say in Lilium Medicinae: The illness called heroes is melancholy anguish caused by love for a woman. The cause of this affliction lies in the corruption of the faculty to evaluate... [men forget] all sense of proportion and common sense...it can be defined as melancholy anguish. (source) Here, Ophelia describes Hamlet as looking and acting just like a guy who's playing the stereotypical role of an unrequited lover. It's a textbook case of lovesickness. In fact, maybe too textbook—almost as if he's read the book, if you know what we mean.

By Gis and by Saint Charity, Alack and fie for shame, Young men will do 't, if they come to 't; By Cock, they are to blame. Quoth she, 'Before you tumbled me, You promised me to wed.' So would I 'a done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed.

Hamlet - Ophelia; (4.5.63-71) We'll let literary critic Carol Thomas Neely handle this one: when Ophelia goes mad, her disturbed language sounds a lot like patriarchal oppression (the oppression of women by men) (source). Take this son: it's about the loss of a maiden's virginity (she's "tumbled") and a broken promise of marriage. Just like girls in almost any historical era, she's stuck: if she doesn't have sex with the guy, he'll dump her for being a prude; if she does, he'll dump her for being—well, not a prude.

[...]From this time Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence. Set your entreatments at a higher rate Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows, for they are brokers, Not of that dye which their investments show, But mere implorators of unholy suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to 't, I charge you. Come your ways. I shall obey, my lord.

Hamlet - Polonius & Ophelia; (1.3.129-145) After a lengthy speech about why Ophelia can't trust anything Hamlet says or promises (including any and all "vows" of love), Polonius orders Ophelia to stop seeing Hamlet. As an unmarried daughter, Ophelia has no choice but to "obey," and she does. We soon learn that Ophelia rejects all of Hamlet's letters and refuses to see him—until she gets used as bait to spy on Hamlet. Essentially, Ophelia is powerless —over her own body, over her relationships, over her activities, and even over her speech. It's no wonder that she cracks. Ophelia isn't actually agreeing here; she's just acknowledging that she has to obey Polonius. Parents in this play (and in powerful families of the Early Modern period) weren't necessarily interested in helping their kids develop to their fullest potential, or whatever the helicopter parenting line is now; they saw their kids as pawns in the game of life.

Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both Even in their promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire. From this time Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence.

Hamlet - Polonius; (1.3.124-130) Ophelia's virginity is a family affair: her dad agrees with her brother that her sexuality makes her vulnerable to damage. But it also makes her powerful: in Polonius' hands, Ophelia is nothing more than a tool to reveal Hamlet's state of mind.

[...] and there put on him What forgeries you please—marry, none so rank As may dishonor him, take heed of that, But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips As are companions noted and most known To youth and liberty.

Hamlet - Polonius; (2.1.21-26) In a long tradition of helicopter parenting, Polonius spies on his kid while he's away at college. And he's not the only one. Claudius, Hamlet's step-father / uncle, also goes to great lengths to find out what Hamlet's up to and even tries to have him murdered. We know that Hamlet idealizes his own father, but we wonder —if Old Hamlet were still alive, would he be any better than Claudius and Polonius?

Marry, sir, here's my drift, And I believe it is a fetch of wit. You laying these slight sullies on my son, As 'twere a thing a little soiled i' th' working, Mark you, your party in converse, him you would sound, Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured He closes with you in this consequence: 'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' According to the phrase or the addition Of man and country—

Hamlet - Polonius; (2.1.43-54) What was that about honesty, again? Here, Polonius instructs his servant to spread rumors about his son Laertes in the hopes of finding out what the boy's up to. Obviously, this way of thinking has some major flaws—but this is actually pretty much the same method Hamlet uses to find out whether or not the ghost is telling the truth about Claudius. Hm.

At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him. [To the King.] Be you and I behind an arras then. Mark the encounter:

Hamlet - Polonius; (2.2.176-178) Oh, look, it's Polonius again. Here, he's colluding with the King to deceive Hamlet—and it ends up getting him killed. We can't feel too sorry.

He knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger. He is far gone. And truly, in my youth, I suffered much extremity for love, very near this.

Hamlet - Polonius; (2.2.205-208) Polonius is convinced that Hamlet is "far gone, far gone" in his love for Ophelia. But—sorry, Polonius—we think it's more likely that Hamlet is likely making a naughty joke at Polonius' expense: a "fishmonger" is slang for "pimp." I.e., Hamlet knows that Polonius is basically pimping out his daughter to get at Hamlet.

Nay, their endeavor keeps in the wonted pace. But there is, sir, an aerie of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question and are most tyrannically clapped for 't. These are now the fashion and so berattle the common stages (so they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose quills and dare scarce come thither.

Hamlet - Rosencrantz; (2.2.361-367) Time for Shakespeare to get in a little contemporary dig at the fashion for children's acting companies, which posed a pretty significant threat to adult theater groups. Rosencrantz calls child actors "eyases" (young hawks), suggesting that these kid actors were threatening the livelihood of the adults. (Just wait ten years, guys: they'll be racking up DUIs and checking into rehab, like all child stars.)

Be you content, fair maid. It is the law, not I, condemn your brother. Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son, It should be thus with him. He must die tomorrow.

M4M - Angelo; (2.2.104-107) When Isabella pleads for Claudio's life, Angelo takes refuge behind the "law" and acts as though he has no choice in the matter when he says that "it is the law, not I" that condemns Claudio. Still, we know this is a load of bull, because, back in the play's opening scene, Duke Vincentio gave Angelo permission to be flexible when handing down sentences. (See 1.1 above.)

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty. As surfeit is the father of much fast, So every scope by the immoderate use Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue, Like rats that raven down their proper bane, A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

M4M - Claudio; (1.2.122-127) Although Claudio insists that his relationship with Juliet is legit, his view of sexuality is pretty disturbing. Here, he compares having sex to drinking rat poison - the idea is that both acts lead to a painful, gut-wrenching death.

...but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season. [...] What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? Dost thou desire her foully for those things That make her good?

M4M - Angelo; (2.2.201-204; 210-212) There are a couple of things to notice here, where Angelo admits to the audience that he's lusting after Isabella. First, Angelo sees his sexual desire as something "corrupt" and compares his body to carrion (road kill) rotting in the sun. (This is similar to how Hamlet compares a pregnant - and therefore inherently sexual - woman's body to a "dead dog" that "breeds maggots" while rotting in the sun [Hamlet, 2.2.5]. Gross.) We also notice that Angelo is turned on by Isabella's virtue. Just a few lines later, he confesses that he would never get as excited about a woman who isn't a virgin and that this is the first time he's ever experienced sexual desire. What does this suggest about Angelo's character?

See you the fornicatress be removed. Let her have all needful but not lavish means.

M4M - Angelo; (2.2.32-33) Much like Nathaniel Hawthorne's Hester Prynne, Juliet is jailed for having sex outside of marriage and gives birth to a child in prison. Although Hester's crime is adultery and not merely fornication, the fates of both women are frightening reminders of what can happen when the government has the power to regulate sexuality and biological reproduction.

He's sentenced. 'Tis too late.

M4M - Angelo; (2.2.75) When Angelo rigidly declares that Claudio will put to death for his crime, he resembles the sixteenth-century English Puritan Phillip Stubbes. Unlike Vienna in Measure for Measure, fornication wasn't punishable by death in Shakespeare's England, but Stubbes wanted it to be. Stubbes once wrote that anyone guilty of prostitution, adultery, whoredom, or incest should be made to "taste of present death" or be branded "with a hot iron on the cheek, forehead, or some other part" so everyone would know how sinful they were (Anatomy of Abuses, 1583). Yikes!

When I would pray and think, I think and pray To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words, Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, Anchors on Isabel. God in my mouth, As if I did but only chew His name, And in my heart the strong and swelling evil Of my conception.

M4M - Angelo; (2.4.1-7) Angelo sees his sexual desire for Isabella as sinful and corrupting. Here, Angelo confesses to the audience that, when he tries to pray, he can't stop thinking naughty thoughts about the wannabe nun. Earlier in the play, we heard Angelo say that his lust makes him like a piece of road kill rotting in the sun (2.2). Yuck.

O my dread lord, I should be guiltier than my guiltiness To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive your Grace, like power divine, Hath looked upon my passes. Then, good prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession. Immediate sentence then and sequent death Is all the grace I beg.

M4M - Angelo; (5.1.413-421) When Duke Vincentio pulls off his friar's hood and reveals his true identity, Angelo knows the jig is up and confesses immediately. What's interesting about this passage is the way Angelo compares the Duke to an all-knowing, all-seeing "power divine." While Angelo associates the Duke's disguise with the omniscience of God, the audience may wonder at the seeming sacrilegious nature of the Duke's behavior. After all, what kind of a man impersonates a friar?

Nay, but I know 'tis so. I saw him arrested, saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off. [...] I am too sure of it. And it is for getting Madam Julietta with child.

M4M - BAwd; (1.2.64-66; 69-70) In Vienna, sexuality and reproduction are regulated by the government. "Fornication" (sex outside marriage) is illegal, which is why Angelo has Claudio arrested and sentenced to death after Juliet turns up pregnant. The play asks us to consider whether or not sexuality should be legislated. What do you think?

Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk.

M4M - Bawd; (1.2.79-81) We've seen how some of the main characters view sexuality as something sinful and corrupting. Yet, minor characters like Mistress Overdone don't view sex in quite the same way. For Mistress Overdone and others, sex is big business (when paying customers aren't in jail or victims of the bubonic plague, that is).

My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me. Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the Duke's time; he promised her marriage. His child is a year and a quarter old come Philip and Jacob. I have kept it myself, and see how he goes about to abuse me.

M4M - Bawd; (3.2.199-204) Here, we learn that Lucio has jilted Kate Keepdown, the mother of his child. Why did Lucio break his promise to marry Kate? Keep reading....

You rogue, I have been drinking all night. I am not fitted for 't.

M4M - Bernadine; (4.3.45-46) When Barnardine, a drunken prisoner sentenced to die, informs the officials that he is simply too hungover to be executed that day, we're pretty astonished (and amused). But, why does Shakespeare write this scene into the play? How does Barnardine's behavior create meaning in Measure for Measure? It seems like the nineteenth-century literary critic William Hazlitt said it best when he wrote that "Barnardine is a fine antithesis to the morality and the hypocrisy of the other characters in the play."

You rogue, I have been drinking all night. I am not fitted for 't.

M4M - Bernardine; (4.3.45-46) When Barnardine informs the officials that he is simply too hungover to be executed that day, we're pretty astonished (and amused), especially given the fact that the Duke plans to substitute Barnardine's head for Claudio's. It seems like Barnardine's role in the play is to draw our attention to the immorality and hypocrisy of the Duke's plan.

Thus can the demigod Authority Make us pay down for our offense, by weight, The words of heaven: on whom it will, it will; On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.

M4M - Claudio; (1.2.116-119) When Claudio is being led to prison, he wonders at the way humans take it upon themselves to be administrators of God's "heaven[ly]" laws.

Thus can the demigod Authority Make us pay down for our offense, by weight, The words of heaven: on whom it will, it will; On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just. (1.2.116-119) When Claudio is being led to prison, he wonders at the way humans take it upon themselves to be administrators of God's "heaven[ly]" laws.

M4M - Claudio; (1.2.116-119) When Claudio is being led to prison, he wonders at the way humans take it upon themselves to be administrators of God's "heaven[ly]" laws.

M4M - Claudio; (1.2.122-127) Here, Claudio compares his sexual appetite to a kind of gluttony and suggests that having sex is like drinking rat poison - both lead to death. This is pretty disturbing, don't you think?

Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract I got possession of Julietta's bed. You know the lady. She is fast my wife, Save that we do the denunciation lack Of outward order:

M4M - Claudio; (1.2.142-146) The nature of Claudio and Juliet's relationship status is pretty fuzzy. When Claudio admits he went to bed with Juliet, he claims, "she is fast my wife, / Save that we do the denunciation lack / Of outward order." Some literary critics think that Claudio and Juliet have made a binding marriage contract but haven't had a religious ceremony (required by the Church) to seal the deal. In seventeenth-century England, a marriage contract was considered legal under common law if the bride and groom got together in front of witnesses and said "I marry you." Why does any of this matter? Because Claudio has been sentenced to death for sleeping with Juliet out of wedlock.

This we came not to Only for propagation of a dower Remaining in the coffer of her friends, From whom we thought it meet to hide our love Till time had made them for us. But it chances The stealth of our most mutual entertainment With character too gross is writ on Juliet.

M4M - Claudio; (1.2.146-152) Claudio claims that he and Juliet haven't yet made a public announcement of their betrothal because they were waiting for Juliet's relatives to cough up a dowry. (A dowry is the money, goods, and/or land that a woman brings to the marriage - it becomes her husband's property once the couple is married.)

I will encounter darkness as a bride, And hug it in mine arms.

M4M - Claudio; (3.1.94-95) Once again, Claudio associates sex (and marriage) with death. (If we didn't know better, we might think we were reading Romeo and Juliet when we encounter this passage. In that play, sex and death go hand and hand for the "star-crossed" lovers.) Here, Claudio compares dying to a woman losing her virginity on her wedding night, which turns death into a kind of erotic state. This doesn't surprise us much, especially given the fact that, in Elizabethan slang, "to die" means to have an orgasm. The comparison works.

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where, To lie in cold obstruction and to rot, This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbèd ice, To be imprisoned in the viewless winds And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling—'tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathèd worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature is a paradise To what we fear of death.

M4M - Claudio; 3.1.133-147) Earlier, we saw Claudio try to convince himself that he was ready to face his own mortality. Here, however, he expresses his fear and uncertainty in a speech that seems to anticipate Hamlet's great "To be, or not to be speech," where Hamlet calls death "the undiscover'd country from whose bourn / No traveller returns" (Hamlet, 3.1). P.S. Literary critic Walter Pater thought this passage was one of the most "eloquent" speeches in all of Shakespeare. We have to agree that it's pretty stunning, but we think Hamlet's speech is awesome too.

Why, you are nothing, then, neither maid, widow, nor wife? My lord, she may be a punk, for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife.

M4M - Duke & Lucio; (5.1.203-206) This passage is interesting, because the conversation between Duke Vincentio suggests that the only respectable title for a woman is "maid, widow, or wife." According to Lucio's logic, if a woman is neither of these things, she must be a prostitute. See what we mean when we say women have limited roles?

In our remove be thou at full ourself. Mortality and mercy in Vienna Live in thy tongue and heart.

M4M - Duke; (1.1.46-48) The Duke has given Angelo the authority to implement the death penalty or to be merciful, depending on Angelo's good judgment. So, why does Angelo choose to execute Claudio (for the crime of fornication) when he's authorized to be lenient?

Hold, therefore, Angelo. In our remove be thou at full ourself. Mortality and mercy in Vienna Live in thy tongue and heart. Old Escalus, Though first in question, is thy secondary. Take thy commission. [...] Your scope is as mine own, So to enforce or qualify the laws As to your soul seems good.

M4M - Duke; (1.1.46-50; 70-72) While the Duke is "out of town," Angelo, his deputy, has complete authority to uphold the laws of Vienna. Still, the Duke is also giving Angelo the power of flexibility - he can "enforce or qualify the laws" as he sees fit. In other words, the Duke is giving Angelo the freedom to hand down death sentences or to be merciful - it's up to Angelo, who should do what seems right in his "soul."

No holy father, throw away that thought. Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee To give me secret harbor, hath a purpose More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends Of burning youth.

M4M - Duke; (1.3.1-6) When the Duke shows up at his place, the Friar assumes that he's come to talk about his sex life. The Duke, of course, thinks the "dribbling dart of love" is for sissies and young people. Is Shakespeare making a reference to Romeo and Juliet, where Romeo frequents Friar Laurence's cell to discuss Rosaline and Juliet? If the Duke is so opposed to love and sexual desire, what is it about Isabella that makes him change his mind at the end of the play? Is the Duke, like Angelo, turned on by Isabella's virginity?

Haste you speedily to Angelo. If for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction.

M4M - Duke; (3.1.288-290) Shakespeare sure does like the "bed trick" as a plot device, wouldn't you say? Here, the Duke advises Isabella to agree to a secret rendezvous with Angelo, but to send Mariana in her place. Brain Snack: Something similar goes down in Shakespeare's All's Well that Ends Well (c.1604), where Bertram thinks he's hooking up with Diana but is tricked into sleeping with Helena. There's also a bed trick in the Bible, when Leah is substituted for Rachel on Jacob's wedding night in Genesis 29. Check out "Quotes: Marriage" if you want to know more about this.

We have strict statutes and most biting laws, The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds, Which for this nineteen years we have let slip, Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers, Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch Only to stick it in their children's sight For terror, not to use—in time the rod More mocked than feared—so our decrees, Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead, And liberty plucks justice by the nose, The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.

M4M - Duke; (1.3.20-32) The Duke admits that, for the past several years, he's allowed his unruly subjects to flout the laws of Vienna. What's interesting is that the Duke talks about his subjects as though they are horses that need to be reined in by "bits and curbs." Then, in mid-speech, the Duke switches metaphors and compares himself to an over-indulgent father who merely threatens his children (subjects) with "the rod," but never actually punishes anyone with a spanking, so to speak. What's even more interesting is how this passage sounds a lot like what Puritan extraordinaire Phillip Stubbes wrote in his famous pamphlet The Anatomy of Abuses (1587). Stubbes (who hated the theater and thought the government in England was too lax) complains that parents who don't punish their children are responsible for all of society's problems: "Give a wild horse the liberty of the head never so little and he will run headlong to thine and his own destruction also. [...] So correct Children in their tender years."

I do fear, too dreadful. Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, 'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them For what I bid them do; for we bid this be done When evil deeds have their permissive pass And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father, I have on Angelo imposed the office, Who may in th' ambush of my name strike home, And yet my nature never in the fight To do in slander.

M4M - Duke; (1.3.37-47) Hmm. The more we think about it, the more the Duke does seem to act like a wimpy parent. Here, he confesses that he's afraid of punishing his subjects who don't obey the laws of the land because it would make him a tyrant. So, he's going to let Angelo do all of his dirty work for him. Gee. We wonder how that will work out.

Supply me with the habit and instruct me How I may formally in person bear me Like a true friar. More reasons for this action At our more leisure shall I render you. Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise, Stands at a guard with envy, scarce confesses That his blood flows or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone. Hence shall we see, If power change purpose, what our seemers be.

M4M - Duke; (1.3.50-58) When the Duke admits that he's suspicious of Angelo, we have to wonder what kind of a man would leave his dukedom in Angelo's hands while he traipses around pretending to be a friar. Brain Snack: Some literary critics read the Duke's behavior as an allusion to King James I's style of government. As scholar Marjorie Garber points out, it was well known that James (a deeply religious guy who sat on the throne when Shakespeare wrote Measure for Measure) liked to spy on his subjects.

She should this Angelo have married, was affianced to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed. Between which time of the contract and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman. There she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry; with both, her combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo.

M4M - Duke; (3.1.238-249) It turns out that Angelo (the guy who sentences Claudio to death for fornicating with Juliet) was once engaged to Mariana. What's interesting is that Angelo broke off the engagement when Mariana's dowry was lost at sea. A woman's dowry is just as important to Angelo as it is to Claudio. The difference, however, between the two men is that Claudio doesn't abandon Juliet because she didn't bring enough money to the relationship.

Go you to Angelo, answer his requiring with a plausible obedience, agree with his demands to the point. Only refer yourself to this advantage: first, that your stay with him may not be long, that the time may have all shadow and silence in it, and the place answer to convenience. This being granted in course, and now follows all: we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place. If the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is your brother saved, your honor untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled.

M4M - Duke; (3.1.269-282) When the Duke comes up with a "bed trick" to fool Angelo into sleeping with his jilted, ex-fiancé, Isabella and Mariana both go along with it. Why? We thought Isabella was anti-sex. Also, why would Mariana want Angelo back after what he did to her? For feminist scholars like Eileen Cohen, this kind of bed trick, which is a popular plot device in Shakespearean drama, is an expedient way for women to subvert patriarchal authority.

This being granted in course, and now follows all: we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place. If the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is your brother saved, your honor untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled.

M4M - Duke; (3.1.275-282) When the Duke devises a bed trick (when one sexual partner is secretly substituted for another) that will deceive Angelo into having sex with Mariana, he reasons that, once Angelo sleeps with his ex-fiancé, he'll have to marry her. This literary devise is a favorite of Shakespeare's, who also uses it in All's Well That Ends Well, where Bertram is duped into sleeping with Helena. In both Measure for Measure and All's Well, the bed trick is geared toward securing heterosexual marriage.

...we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place. If the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense; and here, by this, is your brother saved, your honor untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it?

M4M - Duke; (3.1.276-285) As the Duke describes how they will trick Angelo into sleeping with Mariana, we can't help but notice that he acts a lot like a playwright who is directing the cast of a stage play. This isn't the last time Shakespeare will fashion a character after himself. In The Tempest, Prospero acts a lot like a director as well.

Malcolm and Donalbain, the King's two sons, Are stol'n away and fled, which puts upon them Suspicion of the deed.

Macbeth - Macduff; (2.4.36-38) You may look guilty when you run—but you look a lot worse when you're dead. Malcolm and Donalbain are willing to put up with the appearance of guilt if it means that they'll be able to avenge their father in the end.

O, death's a great disguiser, and you may add to it. Shave the head, and tie the beard, and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bared before his death. You know the course is common.

M4M - Duke; (4.2.189-192) When Angelo demands that Claudio's head be delivered to him, the Duke convinces the Provost to execute another prisoner, Barnardine, in Claudio's place. If they shave Barnardine's head and trim his beard, nobody will know it's not Claudio because "death's a great disguiser." Gee. Are we supposed to notice that this substitution plan sounds a lot like the Duke's bed trick? See what we have to say about this in "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory" if you want to know more about this.

And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart, And you may marvel why I obscured myself, Laboring to save his life, and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power Than let him so be lost. [...] But peace be with him. That life is better past fearing death Than that which lives to fear.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.442-447; 540-542) Can you believe this guy? Here, Duke Vincentio acknowledges that it was odd for him to pretend he was a friar when he could have just revealed his true identity and saved Claudio's life. What's worse, the Duke continues to lie here when he lets Isabella believe her brother is dead and has gone to a "better" place. What a creep.

'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death.' Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure; Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still FOR MEASURE.— Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested, Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block Where Claudio stooped to death, and with like haste.— Away with him.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.465-475) When the Duke sentences Angelo to death for what he's done to Claudio and Isabella, he embraces a kind of "eye for an eye" system of justice that suggests Claudio's punishment should be equal to (measure with) the suffering he's caused.

'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death.' Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure; Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure.— Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested, Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block Where Claudio stooped to death, and with like haste. Away with him.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.465-475) When the Duke sentences Angelo to death, he advocates for a kind of "eye for an eye" system of justice that comes from a passage in the bible: "For with that judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure you meet, it shall be measured unto you again" (Matthew 7:2). In other words, the corrupt deputy who once sentenced Claudio to death for the crime of fornication (and then arranged to sleep with Isabella) is now headed for the chopping block.

If he be like your brother, for his sake Is he pardoned; and, for your lovely sake, Give me your hand and say you will be mine. He is my brother too. But fitter time for that.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.562-565) When the Duke asks Isabella to marry him, we're not sure if she's happy or mortified because she never responds. Is the Duke's offer to marry Isabella a welcomed proposal or an unwanted proposition? We can interpret this moment either way because Shakespeare is being completely ambiguous.

Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.568) At the play's end, biblical justice is replaced by Christian mercy. In the previous passage, we saw how the Duke sentences Angelo to death in an endorsement of measured justice. Yet, here, the Duke pardons Angelo for his crimes. This pardon dramatizes what often seems like a theological contradiction: the call for Christian mercy and the biblical demand for justice.

Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well. Look that you love your wife, her worth worth yours. I find an apt remission in myself. And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.568-572) The Duke pardons Angelo and revokes the death penalty, but he orders him to wed Mariana and to love his wife. Angelo doesn't have much to say about this, which makes us wonder if he feels like his marriage to Mariana is a form of punishment.

Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good, Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine.— So, bring us to our palace, where we'll show What's yet behind that's meet you all should know.

M4M - Duke; (5.1.608-613) Again, when the Duke mentions marrying Isabella, our girl is completely silent. Is this because Isabella still has ambitions to be a nun and doesn't want anything to do with the Duke? Or, has Isabella changed her mind about sex and marriage? How would you play this scene if you were an actor?

I am sorry one so learnèd and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, have still appeared, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood And lack of tempered judgment afterward.

M4M - Escalus; 5.1.540-543) When Escalus lights into Angelo for being corrupt on the inside while appearing so "learned and wise" on the outside, he uses the language of minting (coining) to describe Angelo's fall from grace. Here, Escalus plays on the word "slip," which literally means "to make a mistake," and is also a name for a counterfeit coin. Check out "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory" if you want to know more about the play's obsession with coin metaphors and imagery.

Ha! little honor to be much believed, And most pernicious purpose. Seeming, seeming! I will proclaim thee, Angelo, look for 't. Sign me a present pardon for my brother Or with an outstretched throat I'll tell the world aloud What man thou art. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoiled name, th' austereness of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i' th' state Will so your accusation overweigh That you shall stifle in your own report And smell of calumny.

M4M - Isabella and Angelo; (2.4.161-173) When corrupt Angelo warns Isabella not to tattle on him because he'll deny everything and nobody will believe Isabella over him, we learn something about the relationship between power and gender. Isabella is a mere woman and Angelo is a man in a position of great authority. Yet, when Duke Vincentio overhears Isabella talking to Claudio about Angelo's proposition, he does believe her.

This night's the time That I should do what I abhor to name, Or else thou diest tomorrow. Thou shalt not do 't. O, were it but my life, I'd throw it down for your deliverance As frankly as a pin.

M4M - Isabella and Claudio; (3.1.113-119) For Isabella, the thought of having sex is so horrifying that she can't even bring herself to say the word out loud. When she declares that she'd gladly sacrifice her life for Claudio, it becomes clear that, for Isabella, sex is worse than death. This idea surfaces repeatedly throughout the play. Elsewhere, Isabella says, "Better it were a brother died at once / Than that a sister, by redeeming him, / Should die forever" (2.4.106-108), meaning that Isabella thinks she'll go to hell if she hooks up with Angelo (2.4). For more on this, check out "Quotes: Mortality."

And have you nuns no farther privileges? Are not these large enough? Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more, But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.

M4M - Isabella and Nun; (1.4.1-5) At this point in the play, we've already encountered the hyper-sexual Mistress Overdone, who runs a local brothel. Here, Shakespeare presents the other end of the spectrum in Isabella, who is about to become a nun who will take a vow of chastity, swearing off sex forever. When Isabella says she wishes the sisterhood she's about to join was more "strict," we wonder why. Is she seeking refuge in the convent from the corruption of Vienna? Something else?

And have you nuns no farther privileges?

M4M - Isabella; (1.4.1) Is Shakespeare trying to tell us something about the dangers of religious devotion? Literary critic Brian Gibbons thinks so. Gibbons says the "play's emphasis on Vienna [a Catholic city and the 16th century seat of the Holy Roman Empire] is an emphasis on religious extremism."

Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more, But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.

M4M - Isabella; (1.4.3-5) Before Isabella takes her final vows, she discusses three kinds of privileges nuns have at the convent. What's interesting about Isabella is that she wishes the convent was even more strict than it already is. What's up with that?

Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more, But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.

M4M - Isabella; (1.4.3-5) In a previous passage, we saw how Mistress Overdone breaks the law by running a brothel. Here, when we first encounter Isabella, we find out she wants to join a convent (a very strict convent at that). But why? Is it because she's seeking refuge from the kind of corruption and sleaziness that's so rampant in Vienna? Or, is this another way for a woman to lead a life independent of men? Why does Shakespeare place his two major female characters on opposite ends of the social spectrum? Is a woman's only option to be a virgin or a *****?

Hark how I'll bribe you. Good my lord, turn back. [...] Not with fond sicles of the tested gold, Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor As fancy values them, but with true prayers That shall be up at heaven and enter there Ere sunrise, prayers from preservèd souls, From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal.

M4M - Isabella; (2.2.177; 181-187) When Isabella offers to "bribe" Angelo, the corrupt judge is likely hoping she'll offer to sleep with him. Yet Isabella does no such thing. Instead, she promises to pray for Angelo and declares there's nothing more powerful than a virgin's prayers. What are we to make of this? Should we read Isabella's naivety with cynicism? Or, are we meant to think that Isabella's sincerity and virtue are honorable?

How would you be If He which is the top of judgment should But judge you as you are? O, think on that, And mercy then will breathe within your lips Like man new-made.

M4M - Isabella; (2.2.99-103) Here, Isabella echoes Christ's Sermon on the Mount: "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with that judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure you meet, it shall be measured unto you again" (Matthew 7:1-2). In other words, don't be so quick to judge other people because nobody is perfect and everyone is subject to God's judgment. When Angelo propositions Isabella two scenes later, we can see just how much this concept applies to the corrupt deputy.

And 'twere the cheaper way. Better it were a brother died at once Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever.

M4M - Isabella; (2.4.113-116) Isabella not only wants to remain a virgin forever, but she also believes that having sex with Angelo would send her straight to hell. Is she right? Literary critic Katharine Eisaman Maus points out that "St. Augustine, the most influential Christian writer on sexual morality, insists that sin is a property of the will, not a physical state, [and] persons who are forced to perform sexual acts are blameless." Still, that doesn't mean that Isabella should sleep with Angelo.

Better it were a brother died at once, Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever.

M4M - Isabella; (2.4.114-116) Isabella insists that her chastity is much more valuable than her brother's life, because having sex with Angelo would condemn her to an eternal death (hell). Is she right?

Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die. More than our brother is our chastity.

M4M - Isabella; (2.4.198-199) Isabella is then placed in a terrible position by a corrupt deputy - if she sleeps with Angelo to save her brother's life, she will compromise her values. If she doesn't sleep with Angelo, her brother will die. Here, she decides that that her chastity is more valuable than anything else, which all but invites the audience to judge whether or not Isabella makes the right decision.

Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die. More than our brother is our chastity.

M4M - Isabella; (2.4.198-199) When Angelo propositions Isabella, he puts our girl in the worst possible position by asking her to choose between sleeping with him and letting her brother die. Almost immediately, Isabella determines that her virginity is more valuable than her brother's life and the play asks us to think about whether or not Isabella makes the correct decision. At the same time, Shakespeare lets Isabella (and the audience) off the hook when the Duke hatches a plan to save Claudio's life and Isabella's virtue. Brain Snack: In Shakespeare's main source for the play (Promos and Cassandra), the young woman who corresponds to Isabella's character actually sleeps with a corrupt judge to save her brother's life. Why do you think Shakespeare decided that his heroine would refuse to have sex?

Tis set down so in heaven, but not in Earth.

M4M - Isabella; (2.4.52) When Angelo says that fornication and murder are equally "filthy vices," Isabella notes that divine law forbids them both equally but, according to earthly law, murder is worse. Although many sins are considered crimes in Vienna, Isabella's remark that the laws in "heaven" are at odds with the laws created by man "on earth" remind us that secular law and religious law aren't always compatible in Measure for Measure.

O, were it but my life, I'd throw it down for your deliverance As frankly as a pin.

M4M - Isabella; (3.1.117-119) Isabella declares that she would give her life to save her brothers but we wonder if this is really true. Some literary critics think Isabella is full of it when she says this. What do you think?

Let him not die. My brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died. For Angelo, His act did not o'ertake his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perished by the way. Thoughts are no subjects, Intents but merely thoughts.

M4M - Isabella; (5.1.513-519) When Isabella kneels on the ground and begs for Angelo's life, her logic seems a bit off (she suggests that because Angelo never actually slept with her, he shouldn't be put to death). The problem with this is that Angelo has slept with Mariana, and he's not married to her, which is exactly what Claudio did with Juliet. In other words, Angelo and Claudio have committed the same crime. So why does Isabella think Angelo should be exempt from punishment and that Claudio's death sentence was "just"? This passage also makes wonder about whether or not Angelo's pardon (by the Duke) was just. Is it fair that Angelo is made to marry his ex-fiancé but escapes with his life? Why is the Duke merciful toward Angelo?

Behold, behold. where Madam Mitigation comes! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to— To what, I pray? Judge. To three thousand dolors a year. Ay, and more. A French crown more. Thou art always figuring diseases in me, but thou art full of error. I am sound.

M4M - Lucio and Gentleman; (1.2.44-53) When Lucio talks about how much money he's spent at Mistress Overdone's brothel, he associates coins with venereal disease. A "French crown" is a French gold coin and also refers to a bald head, which is an unfortunate consequence of the "French disease" (syphilis). This is pretty gross, but Lucio's logic also makes a lot of sense because coins are put into circulation in the same way that venereal diseases (like syphilis) are exchanged.

Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to—

M4M - Lucio; (1.2.44-46) When Lucio brags about how much money he's spent at Mistress Overdone's brothel (and the number of STDs he's contracted), it's clear that the unruly Mistress Overdone thumbs her nose at the legal system and operates outside the sphere of masculine authority.

Hail, virgin... [...] I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted

M4M - Lucio; (1.4.17, 36) Lucio, a self-professed ladies' man, places Isabella on a pedestal and separates Isabella from other women because she's a virgin. Angelo, on the other hand, is turned on by Isabella's chastity, but seeks to destroy it by blackmailing our girl into having sex with him. What's up with that?

I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted, By your renouncement an immortal spirit, And to be talked with in sincerity As with a saint.

M4M - Lucio; (1.4.36-39) Because Isabella is a virgin (and plans on staying that way permanently), Lucio thinks of her as a saint. Interestingly enough, when Shakespeare wrote Measure for Measure, there weren't any convents (or monasteries) because Henry VIII (the king who broke from the Catholic Church and created the Protestant Church of England) began closing them down in 1538. So, entering a convent wasn't even an option for women in Shakespeare's England.

Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some, that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that when he makes water his urine is congealed ice; that I know to be true. And he is a motion generative, that's infallible.

M4M - Lucio; (3.2.109-113) Lucio has serious penchant for telling outrageous lies. Here, he spreads a rumor that Angelo is an impotent spawn of a mermaid and urinates ice. Elsewhere, he spreads a rumor that Duke Vincentio likes hanging out in brothels. As ridiculous as this behavior is, we're not sure Lucio's deception is much different than the kind of deceit we see in other characters, like the Duke and Angelo.

I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a *****. Your highness said even now, I made you a duke. Good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold.

M4M - Lucio; (5.1.588-591) Lucio believes that marrying a prostitute is a fate worse than torture because being hitched to a promiscuous woman will make him a "cuckold" (a man cheated on by his wife). In other words, he feels that marriage to a "punk" will compromise his masculinity and destroy his life. Interestingly, the woman Lucio has been ordered to marry is yet another jilted woman (like Mariana). Earlier, we learned that Lucio got a girl pregnant and promised to marry her, but left her high and dry after she gave birth to their child.

I beseech your Highness do not marry me to a *****. Your Highness said even now, I made you a duke. Good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold.

M4M - Lucio; (5.1.588-591) Lucio declares that marrying a prostitute is a fate worse than torture because being hitched to a promiscuous woman will make him a "cuckold" (a man cheated on by his wife). (Apparently, it's OK for him to have sex with Kate, but Lucio wouldn't deign to marry her.) Lucio feels that marriage to a "*****" will compromise his masculinity and destroy his life.

O my dear lord, I crave no other nor no better man. (O my dear lord, I crave no other nor no better man.

M4M - Mariana; (5.1.486-487) Mariana knows that Angelo is no good but she wants to be married to him anyway. But why? Angelo broke off their engagement because she didn't have a dowry and later tried to coerce Isabella into sleeping with him. So, what's the deal with Mariana wanting to be with this jerk?

All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.

M4M - Pompey; (1.2.92-93) Here we learn that all the brothels in Vienna's suburbs are scheduled to be torn down because prostitution is illegal and the spread of venereal disease is out of control. When we read this, we can't help but think of the suburbs outside of Shakespeare's London, where the sex industry thrived because it was hard for officials to regulate brothels outside the city limits. FYI: In April of 1604 (the same year Shakespeare wrote Measure for Measure), King James I ordered all the tenements and houses in the suburbs be torn down to prevent the spread of the plague, which killed about 36,000 people in 1603.

Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner.

M4M - Pompey; (4.2.15-18) Hmm. Pompey makes a very interesting point here. It's illegal for him to work in the sex industry, but it's perfectly "lawful" for him to work as an executioner. What's Shakespeare up to when he puts these words in Pompey's mouth?

O, the better, sir, for he that drinks all night and is hanged betimes in the morning may sleep the sounder all the next day.

M4M - Pompey; (4.3.47-49) If you thought Barnardine's line about being too hungover to die was astonishing, get a load of Pompey, who says the best cure for a hangover is a good hanging. In other words, if Barnardine is executed, he'll be able to "sleep it off" (so to speak) forever.

Claudio to prison? 'Tis not so. Nay, but I know 'tis so. I saw him arrested, saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off.

M4M - gentleman and bawd; (1.2.63-66) Angelo doesn't waste any time upholding the law, which says it's illegal for men and women to "fornicate" outside of marriage. When it becomes obvious that Claudio's fiancé is pregnant, Angelo sentences him to death. Is this a just or fair punishment? Does the crime measure up to the punishment? Should fornication even be a crime monitored by the government?

It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella, Turn you the key and know his business of him. You may; I may not. You are yet unsworn. When you have vowed, you must not speak with men But in the presence of the Prioress. Then, if you speak, you must not show your face; Or if you show your face, you must not speak. He calls again. I pray you answer him.

M4M - nun; (1.4.8-15) Nuns at St. Clare's aren't allowed to talk to a man and show their faces at the same time. They can do one or the other but not both. Also, any speaking or showing of faces to men must be done in the presence of the prioress (head nun). Brain Snack: In 1538, Henry VIII (the English king who broke with the Catholic Church) began the dissolution of all the monasteries and convents in England. This eliminated an important option for women who would seek life as nuns. By the time Shakespeare wrote Measure for Measure around 1604, there weren't any left. There were, however, plenty of them in Vienna (the seat of the Holy Roman Empire), which is the setting of Shakespeare's play.

I'll drain him dry as hay. Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his penthouse lid. He shall live a man forbid. Weary sev'nnights, nine times nine, Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine. Though his bark cannot be lost, Yet it shall be tempest-tossed. Look what I have.

Macbeth - 1st apparition; (1.3.15-27) All the sailor's wife did was refuse to share her chestnuts, and now the sisters are going to make him impotent and infertile. You do not want to tick off a witch. (Oh, but those chestnuts? Sometimes a chestnut isn't just a chestnut, if you know what we mean.)

Macbeth - 1st witch; 1.3.19-26) Here, the First Witch says that she's going to punish a sailor's wife by "drain[ing] [the sailor] dry as hay," which means that she's going to make the sailor impotent: no children, and no sex. Macbeth is definitely worried about male impotence—even Lady Macbeth makes a jab at her husband about it. Is that just a low blow, or does Macbeth actually associate sexual potency with masculinity?

Look, how our partner's rapt.

Macbeth - Banquo; (1.3.156) "Rapt" comes from the Latin word "raptus," which means to be "seized" or "kidnapped." (Brain snack: It's the same word that gives us "rape," which clues you into the way that women were viewed as property—rape was a crime against a man's property rather than a crime against a woman.) But back to the play: if Macbeth is "rapt," then he's been "seized" by something outside of his control. Does that mean we let him off the hook?

That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' Earth And yet are on 't?—Live you? Or are you aught That man may question? [...] You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.

Macbeth - Banquo; (1.3.42-44;47-49) If Macbeth were a horror movie—which it kind of is—then Banquo would be the skeptic who gets killed because he refuses to believe. Where Macbeth accepts the supernatural unquestioningly, doing some pretty dumb things like following a floating dagger and arguing publically with a ghost, Banquo isn't to completely discard his reason and rationality. Unfortunately, that turns out to be the wrong choice.

My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not. If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate.

Macbeth - Banquo; (1.3.57-64) Uh-oh. Someone's feeling left out. Banquo wants a prophecy, too—although he seems to be much more chill about it, claiming that he doesn't care one way or another. But if that's true, you'd think he wouldn't bother trying to look into the future.

If you can look into the seeds of time And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate.

Macbeth - Banquo; (1.3.61-64) Let's assume that the witches are actually supernatural beings. (Just go with it.) Banquo is showing us how to approach the supernatural: very carefully. He doesn't want any favors from them, and he's not afraid of ticking them off. Although, considering how they feel about chestnuts, maybe he should be a little more cautious.

My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not. If you can look into the seeds of time And say which grain will grow and which will not Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate.

Macbeth - Banquo; 1.3.57-64) We kind of love this metaphor of time being like a field of seeds, full of many possible futures. Which ones will grow? And can we affect it, through fertilizer, hoeing, watering, or neglect?

He has no children. All my pretty ones? Did you say "all"? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop? MALCOLM Dispute it like a man. MACDUFF I shall do so, But I must also feel it as a man. I cannot but remember such things were That were most precious to me.

Macbeth - Macduff; (4.3.255-262) Boys don't cry? Not so, says Macduff. He can be a man and also mourn the brutal murder of his wife and children. Talk about setting a good example.

Thou hast it now—king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the weird women promised, and I fear Thou played'st most foully for't. Yet it was said It should not stand in thy posterity, But that myself should be the root and father Of many kings. If there come truth from them (As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine) Why, by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my oracles as well, And set me up in hope? But hush, no more.

Macbeth - Banquo;(3.1.1-10) Sure, Banquo didn't murder anyone for self gain, but he may not be as honorable as he seems. He suspects Macbeth of foul play, but does he tell anyone? No. In fact, he tells himself to "hush"—maybe because he's a little too excited about being the "root and father/ Of many kings."

But I am faint; my gashes cry for help. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds: They smack of honor both.—Go get him surgeons.

Macbeth - Captain and Duncan; (1.2.46-48) Oh, BTW, the captain is totally bleeding through his long recitation about the battle. Notice that the Captain compares the flow of blood that gushes from his wounds to a voice that "cries for help," and King Duncan picks up on the association between "wounds" and "words." Duncan replies that the Captain's gashes and his verbal report of what's been taking place on the field of battle make him an honorable man. It looks like not all violence involves blood, and sometimes words can hurt.

And Fortune, on his damnèd quarrel smiling, Show'd like a rebel's *****. But all's too weak; For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name) Disdaining Fortune, with his brandished steel, Which smoked with bloody execution,

Macbeth - Captain; (1.2.16-20) Basically, the captain says here that Macbeth should have died in battle—but he was stronger than his fate. If this is true, then Macbeth has no one to blame but himself. But notice that the captain calls Macbeth "damned quarry": Macbeth may escape fortune this time, but that "rebel's *****" will get him in the end. (Hey, Shakespeare's words, not ours.)

For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name), Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valor's minion carved out his passage Till he faced the slave; Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops, And fixed his head upon our battlements.

Macbeth - Captain; (1.2.18-26) Basically the first thing we know about Macbeth is that he's disemboweled—"unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps"—and then beheaded someone. We're not sure if we're supposed to be impressed or a little afraid, but Duncan thinks this is so awesome that Macbeth gets rewarded with Cawdor. Hm. We're obviously in a violent, warrior culture here, so maybe we shouldn't be so surprised when Duncan ends up dead.

What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.

Macbeth - Duncan; (1.2.1-3) (1) We all but start with a bloody man, which doesn't bode well for the eventual body count (2) This guy is our king. Shouldn't he be a little bloody, too? Is he just letting everyone else fight his battles for him?

There's no art To find the mind's construction in the face. He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.

Macbeth - Duncan; (1.4.13-16) Here, King Duncan says that the former Thane of Cawdor (who turned out to be a traitor) seemed to be a "gentleman" he could "trust"; ergo, it's impossible to know a man's mind by reading his face. Um, Duncan? Maybe you should listen to yourself and stop putting all your trust in the next treacherous Thane of Cawdor.

See, see, our honour'd hostess!— The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. [...] Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest to-night.

Macbeth - Duncan; (1.6.13-15;30-31) Hope you have your highlighters handy, fair Shmoopers: whenever you see the word "fair," it's a good bet you'll want to uncap them. Since we already know that "fair is foul," Duncan's attempted compliment comes with a big helping of dramatic irony.

Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff! Beware the Thane of Fife! Dismiss me. Enough.

Macbeth - First Apparition;(4.1.81-82) You'd think that Macbeth would have learned to be wary of weird (in both ways) visions and creepy, bodiless ghosts. Instead, he just takes what they say and runs with it. It seems like he's got a pretty bad case of confirmation bias.

Have I not reason, beldams as you are? Saucy and overbold, how did you dare To trade and traffic with Macbeth In riddles and affairs of death, And I, the mistress of your charms, The close contriver of all harms, Was never call'd to bear my part, Or show the glory of our art? And which is worse, all you have done Hath been but for a wayward son, Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, Loves for his own ends, not for you.

Macbeth - Hecate; (3.5.2-13) Even witches have to follow orders. In a way, the witches' disobedience seems like a parallel to the way Macbeth, "the wayward son," is insubordinate to King Duncan. The "supernatural" still has rules and hierarchy; what Macbeth is doing is unnatural, inverting the natural order of king and lord.

The son of Duncan (From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth)

Macbeth - LORD; (3.6.28-29) Can't a king get a break? Macbeth has just been crowned, and people are already calling him a tyrant. Sheesh. It's almost like he's taken power unlawfully, or something.

The son of Duncan [...] Lives in the English court and is received Of the most pious Edward with such grace That the malevolence of fortune nothing Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff Is gone to pray the holy king upon his aid To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward That, by the help of these (with Him above To ratify the work), we may again Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, Do faithful homage and receive free honors. All which we pine for now: and this report Hath so exasperate the king that he Prepares for some attempt of war.

Macbeth - LORD; (3.6.28-43) It may be a Scottish play, but Shakespeare can't resist giving the English king, Edward the Confessor (c. 1003-1066) some props. Malcolm has fled to England, seeking help from the "pious Edward," who stands in contrast to the tyrant Macbeth and is going to play a major role in the restoration of political order in Scotland.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth (1.5.47-54) Lady Macbeth asks the spirits to make her "cruel," and what's cool is that, where the men in this play are constantly going around bleeding, Lady Macbeth wants her blood to stop. What does this say about the relationship between violence and gender?

Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valor As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," Like the poor cat i' th' adage? MACBETH Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man;

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth and Macbeth; (1.7.39-51) Fun brain snack: Lady Macbeth calls her husband "green and pale," which sound to us a lot like "green sickness." Green sickness is another name for anemia, and for hundreds of years it was thought to be particularly a disease of young, virgin girls. So, by calling her husband "green and pale," Lady Macbeth is basically calling her husband a virgin girl. His response? "No, dude, I'm totally a man."

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.5.15-20) Here's another count against ambition: After reading the letter from her husband (which recounts the witches' prophesy), Lady Macbeth's thoughts immediately turn to murder. Problem: Macbeth has ambition, but he doesn't have the nerve to see it through. Luckily Lady Macbeth is man enough for both of them.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great, Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it. [...] Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear And chastise with the valoor of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crowned withal.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.5.15-20;28-33) According to Lady Macbeth, her husband is ambitious, but he's also too "kind" to do what it takes to murder Duncan so that he, Macbeth, can be king. So what's a wife to do? Lady Macbeth plans to "chastise" Macbeth with the "valour of [her] tongue," which is another way of saying she's going to nag her husband into taking action so he can be "crown'd withal." This speech establishes Lady Macbeth as the dominant partner in the relationship, which inverts typical 17th-century gender and social roles. Since husbands were supposed to "rule" their wives in the same way that kings ruled countries, Lady Macbeth's plan is just another version of treason: taking power that doesn't belong to you.

[...] The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood. Stop up th' access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief. Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark To cry "Hold, hold!"

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.5.45-61) Does Lady Macbeth actually believe she's calling on spirits? In other words, is she herself a witch of some kind? Or is this all just a metaphor for evil thoughts? It matters, because it affects how we read her madness at the end. Is she being driven crazy by these spirits, or is she having a psychotic break from realizing how awful her actions were?

[...] Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood. Stop up th' access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief. Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry "Hold, hold!"

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.5.47-61) We can't be the only ones who get goosebumps during this speech. Right? Here, Lady Macbeth gets her freak on by calling on "spirits" to, basically, make her into the man her husband can't be. Tell us who the hero of this play is, again?

Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue; look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under't.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.5.73-78) Whenever flowers and serpents come into it, we're ready to suspect Eve and that pesky snake. And sure enough, here's a woman convincing a man to share in her own, nasty little vision of the way things should be.

Thy letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feel now The future in the instant.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; (1.6.64-66) When Lady Macbeth reads her husband's letter (bearing news of the witch's prophesies), her thoughts immediately turn toward the "future" that she imagines for herself and her husband. Her dreams of being the wife of a king are so vivid and so real to her, it's as though time has completely collapsed, and she feels the "future in the instant."

Are you a man? [...] O, proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear. This is the air-drawn dagger which you said Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, Impostors to true fear, would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all's done, You look but on a stool.

Macbeth - Lady Macbeth; 3.4.70;73-81) In other words, Lady Macbeth is (yet again) telling Macbeth that he's acting like a girl—or, in this case, an old women. Honestly, we're a little surprised that—since this is Shakespeare and all —he didn't just up and kill her instead of Duncan.

She should have died hereafter. There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.

Macbeth - Macbeth 5.5.20-26) You can interpret this speech six ways to Sunday, but it seems pretty clear that, however he feels about his wife, Macbeth is pretty sure that he no longer has a future.

My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight. And when goes hence? Tomorrow, as he purposes. O, never Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue. Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under't. He that's coming Must be provided for; and you shall put This night's great business into my dispatch, Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

Macbeth - Macbeth and Lady Macbeth; (1.6.67-82) Yeah, King Duncan is not getting out of this castle alive. What caught our attention about this passage is the way the couple talks about the planned murder in terms of time —"Duncan comes here to-night"; "when goes he hence"; "never / Shall sun that morrow see!" The pair talk about their plans as though time will come to a complete halt for King Duncan. Lady Macbeth also puns on the word "time" when she suggests Macbeth should suit his demeanor to the occasion ("To beguile the time, / Look like the time") in order to make Duncan believe he's happy to see him.

If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings. My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smothered in surmiseAnd nothing is but what is not.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.3.147-155) History Snack: Regicide was a pretty common occurrence in 11th-century Scotland, the time period of Macbeth,but it definitely was not common in early 17th-century England. The Divine Right of Kings said that monarchs were God's appointed representatives on earth, so rebellion wasn't just treason—it would actually send you straight to hell. James even wrote about it in The Trew Law of Free Monarchies (1598), where he claimed that "The state of monarchy is the supremest thing upon earth; for kings are not only God's lieutenants upon earth, and sit upon God's throne, but even by God himself are called gods." In other words, Macbeth is meddling with power that he should seriously leave alone.

If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.3.157-159) Here, Macbeth briefly decides to let "chance" take its course rather than fighting things, or, you know, murdering his noble king. Piece of advice, Macbeth: go with this line of thought. But if "chance" is the same as "fate," then it seems to amount to the same thing—and it's not good for Macbeth. Or Duncan. (Decent for Malcolm, however.)

Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.3.163-164) After hearing the witch's prophesy that he'll become king, Macbeth pushes thoughts of "murder" from his mind and says he won't lift a finger against the present king —instead, he'll leave his future to "chance." Too bad that resolution doesn't last.

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.3.39) Hmm. This sounds familiar. Didn't the weird sisters just say almost the exact same thing? Has Macbeth seen this play before, or does he already have some kind of psychic connection with the weird sisters?

The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires. The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.4.55-60) Macbeth describes his ambition as being "black and deep desires," which makes it sound... well, wrong. Is ambition okay in any context, or are we all supposed to let fate and chance toss us around?

The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.4.55-60) Uh-oh. Once he learns that King Duncan has named Malcolm the Prince of Cumberland and heir to the crown of Scotland, Macbeth isn't content to wait around for "chance" to intervene. He decides that he must take action, or "o'erleap" the obstacles in his path to the throne. By murder. Well, this seems pretty willful to us.

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly. If th' assassination Could trammel up the consequence and catch With his surcease success, that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.7.1-7) Even if Macbeth isn't caught after he murders King Duncan, he'll be punished in the afterlife (the "life to come"). So why does he decide that temporary, earthly power is worth eternal damnation?

Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off;

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.7.16-20) Even Macbeth admits that Duncan's done a good job being king: he's been "clear in his great office. But is "meek" really a quality that you want from the most powerful man in your kingdom?

Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.7.50-52) When Macbeth tries to insist that the murder plot is off, Lady Macbeth needles him (and makes a few impotence jokes) until he finally gives in. That's right—gives in. Saying "I dare do all that may become a man" sounds a lot like he's made a decision.

Bring forth men-children only, For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.7.83-85) Macbeth tells his wife that she's manly enough to only give birth to male-children. Sorry, Macbeth, but you're the one responsible for the Y-chromosome. But this is an interesting look at Early Modern ideas about gender: "masculinity" and "femininity" seem to be more about behavior than any particularly sex characteristics.

I am settled and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show. False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (1.7.92-96) Macbeth is starting to get the hang of this whole deception thing: he's calling on his entire body ("each corporal agent") to help him out, telling his "false face" to hide the treachery of his "false heart."

Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (2.1.44-55) "The dagger made me do it" isn't a defense we've heard before, but it seems to work for Macbeth. Look at that "Come, let me clutch thee": it sounds a lot like he doesn't have a choice.

Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going, And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses, Or else worth all the rest.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (2.1.44-57) Well, is it? By opening with a question, Macbeth leaves us wondering whether he does really see a dagger—whether there's some supernatural force at work—or whether it's all just a figment of his treacherous brain.

There's comfort yet; they are assailable. Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (3.2.44-49) Hmm. It sounds like somebody's channeling the witches. When Macbeth talks about his plans for the murder of Banquo and Fleance, he starts sound a lot like the weird sisters. What's that all about?

For mine own good All causes shall give way. I am in blood Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (3.4.167-170) In case we still had some lingering doubts, Macbeth clears that up for us: he's doing all this "For mine own good." Great. We'll be sure not to ask him for any favors, then.

Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo. Down! Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs. And thy hair, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. A third is like the former.—Filthy hags! Why do you show me this?—A fourth? Start, eyes! What, will the line stretch out to th' crack of doom? Another yet? A seventh? I'll see no more. And yet the eighth appears who bears a glass Which shows me many more, and some I see That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry. Horrible sight! Now I see 'tis true, For the blood-boltered Banquo smiles upon me, And points at them for his.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (4.1.127-139) Macbeth is not pleased when the witches conjure a vision of eight kings, who just so happen to be Banquo's heirs, who just so happen to result in Shakespeare's very own King James I. Was James pleased?

[...] From this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprise, Seize upon Fife, give to th' edge o' th' sword His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls That trace him in his line.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (4.1.166-174) Like potato chips, you can't have just one murder. All Macbeth wanted to do was kill the king, and now he's off to slaughter some innocent babes. (Pro tip: just don't buy the bag of potato chips in the first place.)

Hang out our banners on the outward walls. The cry is still "They come!" Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn. Here let them lie Till famine and the ague eat them up. Were they not forced with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (5.5.1-8) Macbeth's strategy during the siege is to hole up in the palace and bide his time "till famine and the augues" (starvation and illness) destroy the enemy soldiers. What's creepy about this is that he's still acting like he has all the time in the world, when in fact his borrowed time is just about up. (Fun fact: plays are bound by time in the way that other works of literature aren't. You can read a novel as fast or as slowly as you want, but when you're watching a play you only get the amount of time that a director has assigned. Almost—we're just saying—as though you're being controlled by fate.)

She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.

Macbeth - Macbeth; (5.5.20-31) In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. Or something along those lines. Here, Macbeth is realizing that all his striving was literally useless: Malcolm is going to be king; he himself is about to die; and his wife is gone. (So much for her ambition, too.) But if there's nothing to be gained, then what's the point of living at all? Macbeth doesn't leave us with much of answer. Are we just supposed to live our lives hopelessly until we die? Or is there a nobler way of putting up with life's ultimate futility?

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is but what is not.

Macbeth - Macbeth;(1.3.152-155) Slow down there, Macbeth, because these ladies haven't said a word about murder. The fact that his first thought is about killing the king is mighty suspicious—almost as though they've just awoken a murderous ambition that's been there all along.

If't be so, For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind, For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered, Put rancors in the vessel of my peace Only for them, and mine eternal jewel Given to the common enemy of man, To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings. Rather than so, come fate into the list, And champion me to th' utterance!

Macbeth - Macbeth;(3.1.69-77) Well, this is interesting. Here, Macbeth is calling fate to his aid, asking it to "champion" him, or fight for him, in the "lists," or the tournament grounds. This doesn't sound like a fate-or-free-will situation; it sounds like a fate-and-free-will deal.

O gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak. The repetition in a woman's ear Would murder as it fell.

Macbeth - Macduff; (2.3.96-99) LOL, Macduff. He's so tied to a notion of female gentleness that he can't believe Lady Macbeth could even hear about murder, much less plot one. See, guys? Sexism hurts everyone.

Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been The untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.

Macbeth - Macduff; (4.3.80-83) Note that the problem isn't the king's death—it's that the king's death was "untimely," thanks to Macbeth's boundless intemperance. In other words, Macbeth simply didn't have the patience. Maybe if he'd waited he would have become king in due time—and not at the wrong time.

Either thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword, with an unbattered edge, I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune, And more I beg not.

Macbeth - Macduff; (5.6.19-24) This is how to do ambition right: Macduff wants to avenge his family and his king, but he doesn't seek power for himself. He doesn't want to rule fortune; he's content to be fortune's tool. Clearly, he's going to be the one to take down the boss.

Despair thy charm, And let the angel whom thou still hast served Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb Untimely ripped.

Macbeth - Macduff; (5.8.17-20) Hey, "untimely"! We just saw it in the "untimely emptying of the happy throne" (4.3.7), so there's definitely something going on with that word. Is an untimely birth the only antidote to an untimely death?

Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold, where stands Th' usurper's cursèd head. The time is free. I see thee compassed with thy kingdom's pearl, That speak my salutation in their minds, Whose voices I desire aloud with mine. Hail, King of Scotland!

Macbeth - Macduff; (5.8.65-70) When Macduff says "the time is free" he means that Macbeth's reign has come to an end and the people of Scotland now live in freedom from tyranny. But there's also the sense that time had somehow come to a halt when Macbeth murdered Duncan and became king. Now that the rightful heir, Malcolm, will be crowned monarch, linear time (which was disrupted by Macbeth), is back on track, just as lineal succession (also disrupted by Macbeth) is reestablished. And—this might be a stretch, but you know who else is now free, or almost? The audience. Their time is back on track, too. Given how much Shakespeare liked to talk about plays and acting, we think it's a reasonable interpretation. Do you buy it?

Say to the King the knowledge of the broil As thou didst leave it. Doubtful it stood, As two spent swimmers that do cling together And choke their art.

Macbeth - Malcolm and Captain; 1.2.7-11) The Captain waxes poetic with his description here, as though violence is something that can be beautiful and noble—even glorious. Does Macbeth glorify violence?

Let us seek out some desolate shade and there Weep our sad bosoms empty. Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword and, like good men, Bestride our downfall'n birthdom. Each new morn New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out Like syllable of dolor.

Macbeth - Malcolm and Macduff; (4.3.1-9) Malcolm wants to take a second to weep about his murdered father, but Macduff is ready to get some avenging done. Notice how he talks about it, though. He doesn't say, "Let's go kill us some men"; he says, "Let's go make some widows and orphans." Is this just a poetic way of saying it, or is this Shakespeare slyly reminding us that violence has consequences?

'Tis call'd the evil: A most miraculous work in this good king, Which often, since my here-remain in England I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven Himself best knows, but strangely visited people All swoll'n and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, The mere despair of surgery, he cures, Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy, And sundry blessings hang about his throneThat speak him full of grace.

Macbeth - Malcolm; (4.3.168-181) Shakespeare is totally the teacher's pet. Here, he gives even more props to King Edward the Confessor of England by alluding to the "Royal Touch," a kind of laying on hands ceremony that was performed by English (and French) monarchs. The "strangely-visited people" referred to here by the Doctor suffer from scrofula, or the King's Evil. And if King Edward can cure a nasty disease like scrofula, just imagine what he can do to help cure Scotland of Macbeth.

Knock, knock! Who's there, in th' other devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator.

Macbeth - Porter; (2.3.7-11) All this talk about "equivocators" is a reference to the recent Gunpowder Plot, the treasonous Catholic plot to blow up Parliament. (See our "Symbols: Equivocator" section to get the facts on that.) This little joke helps Shakespeare get away with dramatizing the murder of a king on stage: the reference to the Gunpowder Plot is a clear condemnation of the crime Macbeth has just committed. Whew.

Ha, good father, Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, Threaten his bloody stage. By th' clock, 'tis day, And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp. Is't night's predominance or the day's shame That darkness does the face of earth entomb When living light should kiss it? 'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done.

Macbeth - Ross and OLD MAN; (2.4.6-14) It's the day after King Duncan's murder, and things are not looking good. Even though it's the middle of the day, darkness fills the sky, as though the sun ("the traveling lamp") has been "strangle[d]" by "dark night." Anyone else get the feeling that this is symbolic? Duncan's rule and his life have both been extinguished by Macbeth, who has committed the most "unnatural" act of all: upending the natural order of power.

Had he his hurts before? Ay, on the front. Why then, God's soldier be he! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death; And so, his knell is knolled.

Macbeth - Siward and Ross; (5.8.53-58) If your son has to die in battle, you at least want him to die with his wounds "before," or in front, facing the enemy. For Siward, this is the best possible way for a young man to die. (No word about living to a ripe old age, of course.)

Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are. Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill Shall come against him. [Descends] That will never be. Who can impress the forest, bid the tree Unfix his earthbound root? Sweet bodements, good! Rebellious head, rise never till the Wood Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath To time and mortal custom.

Macbeth - Third Apparition and Macbeth; (4.1.103-114) When Macbeth comes knocking on the three witches' doors again, he wants another glimpse into his future. They give him riddles. (Thanks, gals.) But look at those riddles: they're designed so Macbeth interprets them to mean that he's safe, which obviously affects his decision-making. Is his death fate? Or is just savvy manipulation?

All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!

Macbeth - witches (1.3.51-53) Million-dollar question: are the witches (1) playing on Macbeth's ambition and planting the idea of murder in his head; (2) really privy to some secret info about the way things are going to go down; or (3) actually controlling fate in some way?

When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurly-burly's done, When the battle's lost and won. [...] I come, Graymalkin. Paddock calls. Anon. Fair is foul, and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Macbeth - witches; (1.1.1-13) The audience might not get a look at the stage directions, but all the clues are here: the women speak in rhythmic, chant-like lines (check out "Writing Style" for a close look at their language); they call out to their familiars—and, since "Graymalkin" was a common name for a cat, the audience would have gotten the reference, sort of like saying, "I come, Crookshanks/ Hedwig calls"; and, finally, they end with that creepy inversion: fair is foul, and foul is fair." Supernatural? Super creepy, at least.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Macbeth - witches; (1.1.12-13) Clearly, Shakespeare's been traveling to Beijing. (Rim shot.) Unfunny jokes about pollution aside, the witches set us up here to mistrust everything. In the fog, it's hard to tell what's really there. Are they even there?

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Macbeth - witches; (4.1.10-11) And... this is maybe the most famous line in Macbeth. Here, they make all of Scotland sound like some nasty brew that they're whipping up over their fire. But if that's the case—then why does good triumph at the end?

I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other— (1.7.25-28) Time to be real: when Macbeth is honest with himself, he admits that there's no good reason to kill Duncan, because Duncan is perfectly good at this whole king-business. Macbeth just wants that power for himself.

Macbeth- Macbeth; (1.7.25-28) Time to be real: when Macbeth is honest with himself, he admits that there's no good reason to kill Duncan, because Duncan is perfectly good at this whole king-business. Macbeth just wants that power for himself.

'Gainst nature still! Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up Thine own lives' means! Then 'tis most like The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macbeth- Ross;(2.4.39-42) Ross is right about one thing: ambition is to blame for Duncan's murder. He's wrong about the most important part, though. Here, he accuses Duncan's kids of going "'gainst nature" and killing their own father—but Macbeth is the one to watch out for. Our question: is Macbeth going against nature, too, by killing the king? Is ambition of any kind unnatural?

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on;

Othello- Iago; (3.3.195-197) Iago's pretty good at manipulating Othello, don't you think? Here, he pretends to warn Othello not to be a jealous man, pointing out that jealousy ends up destroying the heart of the man who falls prey to it.

This is Venice. My house is not a grange. [...] Because we come to do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse, you'll have your nephews neigh to you, you'll have coursers for cousins and jennets for germans. [...] I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. .

Othello - Brabantio & Iago; (1.1.119; 123-127; 129-131) We've seen how Iago uses animal imagery in his racist diatribe against Othello, which is grounded in the idea that black men (and women) are inhuman. Here, Brabantio objects to Iago's middle-of-the-night assertions that Desdemona has eloped by saying his house isn't a "grange" (a farm or a farmhouse). Iago takes the opportunity to pun on the term "grange," as he claims that Desdemona is having sex with a "barbary horse" and, as a result, Brabantio will have relatives that "neigh to him." Desdemona and Othello, he says, are "making the beast with two backs" (in other words, humping, like camels). This isn't the first time Iago has implied that Othello's animal-like sexuality corrupts Desdemona. Compare this to 1.1.106-113 above

It is too true an evil. Gone she is, And what's to come of my despisèd time Is nought but bitterness.—Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou see her?—O, unhappy girl!— With the Moor, say'st thou?—Who would be a father?— How didst thou know 'twas she?—O she deceives me Past thought!—What said she to you?—Get more tapers. Raise all my kindred.—Are they married, think you? [...] O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds By what you see them act.

Othello - Brabantio; (1.1.178-189; 191-193) When Brabantio learns that Desdemona has run off with Othello, he cries out, "Who would be a father!" and wonders "what's to come" of himself. Clearly, Brabantio feels as though his identity as a father and an authority figure have been compromised by Desdemona's elopement, which he interprets as "treason of the blood."

Damned as thou art, thou hast enchanted her! For I'll refer me to all things of sense, If she in chains of magic were not bound, Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy, So opposite to marriage that she shunned The wealthy curlèd darlings of our nation, Would ever have, to incur a general mock, Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom Of such a thing as thou—to fear, not to delight! Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense That thou hast practiced on her with foul charms, Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals That weaken motion.

Othello - Brabantio; (1.2.82-94) Brabantio insists that Othello must have "enchanted" Desdemona - why else, asks Brabantio, would she run away from all the (white) eligible bachelors in Venice into the "sooty bosom" of the "Moor"? (Pretty obnoxious, wouldn't you say?) Brabantio's objection to his daughter's marriage to a black man gives voice to fears of miscegenation (when interracial couples marry/have sex, etc., resulting in "mixed race" children).; Brabantio argues that Othello could not have truly won Desdemona's love - it had to be through some kind of trickery or manipulation. Brabantio couldn't be more wrong, of course.

Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.

Othello - Brabantio; (1.3.333-334) Brabantio suggests that, because Desdemona deceived her father when she eloped with Othello, Desdemona will likely deceive her husband. Desdemona, as we know, is completely faithful to Othello. The problem is that Othello seems to buy into the stereotype that unruly daughters make for unruly and promiscuous wives, which is part of the reason why Iago is able to manipulate him so easily. (Later, in Act 3, Scene 3, when Iago echoes Brabantio's point, Othello agrees.) Shakespeare seems to be critiquing this unfair attitude toward women in the play - Othello's distrust in his wife leads to a terrible tragedy when he murders Desdemona.

O, thou foul thief, where hast thou stowed my daughter?

Othello - Brabantio; 1.2.80-81) When Brabantio confronts Othello for eloping with Desdemona (without his permission), he accuses his new son-in-law of being a "foul thief," as if Desdemona is piece of property that has been unlawfully taken away from him. We see this same attitude earlier in the play when Iago awakens Brabantio in the middle of the night proclaiming loudly "Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! / Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! / Thieves! thieves!" (1.1.80-82). What's up with that? History Snack: It turns out that it's pretty common in Shakespeare's plays (and sixteenth-to-seventeenth-century England in general) for daughters to be considered their father's property - unmarried women are often portrayed as something to be stolen, bartered for and/or traded by men. In The Taming of the Shrew, for example, when Baptista Minola bargains with his daughter's suitor, he treats Bianca like a possession and even refers to himself as a "merchant" who is undertaking a risky business deal (The Taming of the Shrew, 2.1.22).

A maiden never bold, Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion Blushed at herself. And she, in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, everything, To fall in love with what she feared to look on! It is a judgment maimed and most imperfect That will confess perfection so could err Against all rules of nature, and must be driven To find out practices of cunning hell Why this should be. I therefore vouch again That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, Or with some dram conjured to this effect, He wrought upon her.

Othello - Brabantio;(1.3.112-124) Brabantio doesn't seem to know his daughter at all, especially when he claims she is "never bold" and that she "fear'd to look on" Othello. As we know, Desdemona is bold - she runs off with a man her father doesn't approve of and defends her actions when confronted by Brabantio and the Venetian court.

She, in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, every thing, To fall in love with what she feared to look on! It is a judgment maimed and most imperfect That will confess perfection so could err Against all rules of nature,

Othello - Brabantio;(1.3.114-119) Desdemona's father argues that her love for Othello is unnatural, since, according to him, Desdemona would never fall for a black man who she "fear'd to look on." Of course, Brabantio couldn't be more wrong about his daughter - Desdemona is in love Othello. It seems that Iago has played Brabantio perfectly. Iago knew that Brabantio was racist and, as previous passages demonstrate, he used Brabantio's attitude toward the idea of a mixed marriage in order to rile the man against Othello. Brabantio repeatedly insists that Othello must have "enchanted" Desdemona with "foul charms" and magic spells. Otherwise, he insists, Desdemona never would never have run "to the sooty bosom" of Othello (1.2.70).

Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.

Othello - Brabantio;1.3.333-334) Brabantio perpetuates a pretty unfair stereotype of young women in these lines - he suggests that since Desdemona has "deceived her father" by running off to elope with Othello, she'll probably "deceive" her new husband too. The idea is that an unruly daughter will make an unruly and promiscuous wife. Compare this to 3.3.17, below.

Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia? I know not, madam. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse Full of crusadoes. And, but my noble Moor Is true of mind and made of no such baseness As jealous creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill thinking. Is he not jealous? Who, he? I think the sun where he was born Drew all such humors from him.

Othello - Desdemona & Emilia; (3.4.23-32) Desdemona is frantic when she discovers she's lost her handkerchief, as it was a meaningful gift from her husband. What's interesting is that poor Desdemona has no idea how her husband will react - she says Othello isn't the jealous type so there's no need to worry. According to her, Othello's "true of mind" and much too "noble" to stoop to "such baseness."

Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio, My advocation is not now in tune. My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him Were he in favor as in humor altered. (3.4.141-144) IAGO What is the matter, lady? EMILIA Alas, Iago, my lord hath so be*****d her. Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her As true hearts cannot bear. DESDEMONA Am I that name, Iago? IAGO What name, fair lady? DESDEMONA Such as she says my lord did say I was. EMILIA He call'd her "*****." A beggar in his drink Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. IAGO Why did he so? DESDEMONA I do not know. I am sure I am none such.

Othello - Desdemona & Iago & Emilia; (4.2.134-144) At the play's beginning, Desdemona is strong, confident, and defiant but, after being victimized by Othello's physical and emotional abuse, she changes drastically. When Othello publicly abuses Desdemona, calling her a "*****" and even slapping her, Emilia is outraged. But Desdemona seems more confused and hurt than anything else. Here, Desdemona says she's "sure" that she's done absolutely nothing to warrant Othello's behavior, and yet we can detect a note of uncertainty. Soon after, Othello strangles her, and Desdemona blames herself for her husband's violence. When Emilia asks Desdemona who has harmed her, Desdemona replies "Nobody; I myself. Farewell" (5.2.125).

Why do you speak so faintly? Are you not well? I have a pain upon my forehead, here.

Othello - Desdemona & Othello; 3.3.325-326) After Iago plants the seeds of jealousy in Othello's mind, Othello complains of having a headache, which is a big, big clue that Othello thinks Desdemona's been unfaithful. In sixteenth century literature (Shakespeare's especially), any time a man has a headache or there's some kind of reference to a man having horns growing out of his head, we can be pretty certain there's a reference being made to cuckoldry. A "cuckold" is a man who has been cheated on by his wife, and "cuckolds" are frequently portrayed as having horns. This is why Othello says that married men are "fated" to suffer the "forked plague" (3.3.273) just a few lines earlier.

My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life and education. My life and education both do learn me How to respect you. You are the lord of duty. I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband, And so much duty as my mother showed To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor my lord.

Othello - Desdemona; (1.3.208-218) Although Desdemona feels torn between her "duty" to her father and her husband (kind of like Cordelia in Act 1 of King Lear), she ultimately professes her loyalty to her husband. Here, we can see that Desdemona is tactful, respectful, and also pretty independent.

That I did love the Moor to live with him My downright violence and storm of fortunes May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdued Even to the very quality of my lord. I saw Othello's visage in his mind, And to his honor and his valiant parts Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, A moth of peace, and he go to the war, The rites for which I love him are bereft me And I a heavy interim shall support By his dear absence. Let me go with him.

Othello - Desdemona; (1.3.283-294) Desdemona doesn't want to remain behind while her new husband runs off to Cyprus to fight against the Turks. For one thing, she loves Othello and simply wants to be with him. But, it's also important to note that Desdemona seems drawn to the action and adventure of warfare, which is a realm that's only available to men. Check out "Quotes" for gender if you want to know about Desdemona's desire to be a warrior.

I saw Othello's visage in his mind, And to his honors and his valiant parts Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, A moth of peace, and he go to the war, The rites for which I love him are bereft me And I a heavy interim shall support By his dear absence. Let me go with him.

Othello - Desdemona; (1.3.287-294) There are a couple of things to notice about this passage. First, Desdemona says she fell in love with the way Othello sees himself, which, as we know, is as a valiant war hero. Second, we notice that Desdemona's pretty bold. She not only defends her right to marry the man she loves but also her right to enjoy Othello as a husband, which includes being with him when he leaves for Cyprus and sharing his bed. In other words, Desdemona's not afraid to express her desire for her husband.

Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think, and no conception nor no jealous toy concerning you. DESDEMONA Alas the day, I never gave him cause! EMILIA But jealous souls will not be answered so. They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they are jealous. It is a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself. DESDEMONA Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!

Othello - Emilia & Desdemona; (3.4.176-184) Emilia understands the nature of jealousy. Here, she points out that jealous husbands like Othello never really need any cause to be jealous - they just are jealous. What's interesting about this passage is the way Emilia explains that jealousy is like a "monster / begot on itself, born on itself." In other words, jealousy is generated out of nothing and multiplies or reproduces by feeding on itself. Compare Emilia's description of jealousy to what Iago has to say about bringing his "monstrous birth" to light in 1.3.398, above.

O, who hath done this deed? DESDEMONA Nobody. I myself. Farewell. Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell.

Othello - Emilia & Desdemona; (5.2.151-153) When Emilia asks Desdemona who has harmed her, Desdemona blames herself instead of holding Othello accountable. As we know, this isn't the first time Desdemona has been abused by her husband, who accuses her of cheating on him, slaps her in public, and calls her a "*****" - actions that culminate in Othello murdering Desdemona. We can't help but notice that Desdemona exhibits a classic symptom of "battered woman syndrome" - instead of telling Emilia the truth about Othello strangling her, she blames herself (and not her attacker) for the abuse she endures.

I am glad I have found this napkin. This was her first remembrance from the Moor. My wayward husband hath a hundred times Wooed me to steal it. But she so loves the token (For he conjured her she should ever keep it) That she reserves it evermore about her To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out And give 't Iago. What he will do with it Heaven knows, not I. I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Othello - Emilia; (3.3.334-343) Why does Emilia steal Desdemona's handkerchief and give it to her jerk of a husband, Iago? (She has to know Iago is up to no good, doesn't she?) It seems that, despite (or perhaps because of) Iago's abuse, Emilia still craves her husband's love and approval, which is why she'll stoop to anything in order to "please" him. Check out our "Character" analysis of Emilia for more about her motives.

But I do think it is their husbands' faults If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties, And pour our treasures into foreign laps; Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us. Or say they strike us, Or scant our former having in despite. Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have. What is it that they do When they change us for others? Is it sport? I think it is. And doth affection breed it? I think it doth. Is 't frailty that thus errs? It is so too. And have not we affections, Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? Then let them use us well. Else let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.

Othello - Emilia; 4.3.97-115) After Desdemona naively asks if there are any women who would actually cheat on their husbands, Emilia replies that, yes, there sure are and it's the fault of unkind husbands. According to Emilia, husbands cheat on their wives and often physically abuse them, prompting women to stray. What's more, women have sexual desires, just like men, and women are also "frail" and imperfect, just like some husbands. In other words, Emilia recognizes there's a double standard when it comes to gender and fidelity and she heartily objects. OK, it's pretty clear Emilia is fed up with men, and who can blame her? She's married to Iago, the biggest jerk in the world. At the same time, however, we wonder why in the world Emilia would be so loyal to Iago if she knows what a creep he is. Why, for example, does she willingly agree to give Iago Desdemona's handkerchief? She has to know Iago is up to no good, doesn't she? Is Emilia a hypocrite? Or, is she the victim of abuse like Desdemona?; According to Emilia, husbands cheat on their wives and often physically abuse them, prompting women to stray. What's more, women have sexual desires, just like men, and women are also "frail" and imperfect, just like some husbands. In other words, Emilia recognizes there's a double standard when it comes to gender and fidelity and she heartily objects.

Othello- Iago; 1.3.361-368) When Iago makes an analogy between gardening and exercising free will, we're reminded of the way that Iago is the ultimate master gardener, so to speak. Part of what makes him such a brilliant manipulator of Othello is his ability to plant the seeds of doubt and jealousy in Othello's mind.

Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, Yet, for necessity of present life, I must show out a flag and sign of love— Which is indeed but sign.

Othello - Iago (1.1.171-174) After stirring up trouble for Othello with Brabantio, Iago says he needs to get lost because it wouldn't look right for him to be present when his general is confronted by Desdemona's father. For now, Iago says he needs to pretend he loves Othello. What's interesting to us about this passage is the way Iago uses the language of war to describe his relationship with Othello - he'll "show out a flag" as a sign of his loyalty (kind of like waving a peace sign when you have every intention of attacking your enemy). Although Iago is an ensign (the lowest rank of commissioned officers), he acts more like a brilliant general as he wages psychological warfare against Othello throughout the play.

Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, Yet, for necessity of present life, I must show out a flag and sign of love— Which is indeed but sign. I hate the Moor, And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets 'Has done my office. I know not if 't be true, But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety.

Othello - Iago; (1.1.171-174) & (1.3.429-433) Iago says his hatred of Othello is based on jealousy.

Virtue? A fig! 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners. So that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most prepost'rous conclusions. But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts— whereof I take this that you call love to be a sect, or scion.

Othello - Iago; (1.3.361-375) Iago believes human beings have complete control over their actions and their emotions. Not only that, but Iago is also a figure who seems to have complete control over the actions and emotions of others, which we discuss in more detail in "Manipulation."

Now, I do love her too, Not out of absolute lust (though peradventure I stand accountant for as great a sin) But partly led to diet my revenge For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leaped into my seat—the thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards, And nothing can or shall content my soul Till I am evened with him, wife for wife, Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb (For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too),

Othello - Iago; (2.1.313-329) Yet here, Iago's hatred is rooted in his suspicion that Othello was sleeping with his wife.

Demand me nothing. What you know, you know. From this time forth I never will speak word.

Othello - Iago; (5.2.355-356) Iago refuses to explain himself. He conceals his motives and his true identity to the very last.

O thou Othello, thou wert once so good, Fall'n in the practice of a damnèd slave, What shall be said to thee? Why, anything. An honorable murderer, if you will, For naught I did in hate, but all in honor.

Othello - Lodovico & Othello; (5.2.342-347) Yikes! Othello believes that murdering Desdemona was an "honourable" thing to do since he thought Desdemona was cheating on him. (Seems like Shakespeare is inviting us to disagree with Othello, wouldn't you say?) To the last, Othello wants to be identified as an honorable man but Lodovico asserts that Othello, the man who was "once so good" has "fall'n."

And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor Should hazard such a place as his own second With one of an engraffed infirmity. It were an honest action to say so To the Moor. Not I, for this fair island. I do love Cassio well and would do much To cure him of this evil— "Help, Help!" within. But, hark! what noise?

Othello - Montano & Iago; (2.3.144-152) Iago speaks of loving Cassio in the same terms with which he often speaks of loving Othello. We suspect, then, that he hates Cassio, since he also hates Othello.

Faith, he tonight hath boarded a land carrack. If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. I do not understand. He's married.

Othello- Iago & Cassio; (1.2.60-63) Iago describes marriage as the violent takeover of an enemy's prize ship. This brings us back to the theory that love is a war in Othello, and Iago is trying to play maestro - or more likely, general.

She did deceive her father, marrying you, [...] And so she did.

Othello- Iago & Othello; (3.3.238; 241) When Iago wants to make Othello suspect Desdemona's been unfaithful, he suggests a woman who disobeys and "deceive[s] her father is likely to screw around on her husband. Othello's response implies that he feels the same way. Instead of seeing Desdemona's decision to elope with Othello (despite her father's disapproval) as a sign of his wife's loyalty to him, Othello sees Desdemona's willingness to elope as a prelude to her infidelity. It seems that Othello's sexist assumptions leave him pretty vulnerable to Iago's plotting.

Ha! I like not that. What dost thou say? Nothing, my lord; or if—I know not what. Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it That he would steal away so guiltylike, Seeing you coming. I do believe 'twas he.

Othello- Iago & Othello; (3.3.37-44) Gosh. Iago is an evil genius, don't you think? After watching Desdemona and Cassio chit-chat from afar, Iago suggests that something naughty is going on between Cassio and Othello's wife. He never comes right out and says, "Hey Othello, look at your wife flirt with Cassio," but he implies there's something tawdry happening and then acts all innocent when Othello presses the point.

Her father loved me, oft invited me, Still questioned me the story of my life From year to year—the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have passed. I ran it through, even from my boyish days To th' very moment that he bade me tell it, Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances: Of moving accidents by flood and field Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence, And portance in my traveler's history, Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak—such was the process— And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.149-170) Here, Othello explains to the Duke and the Senate how Desdemona fell for him - when Brabantio would invite Othello to tell stories about his past, Desdemona paid serious attention and fell in love. This passage is significant for a couple of reasons. First, it reveals that Brabantio "loved" Othello, so long as Othello was a military hero defending Venice and not in a romantic relationship with his, Brabantio's, daughter. Here's what actor Paul Robeson (the black American actor who broke the color barrier when he played Othello on Broadway in 1943) had to say about the play: "In the Venice of that time [Othello] was in practically the same position as a coloured man in America today [1930]. He was a general, and while he could be valuable as a fighter he was tolerated, just as a negro who could save New York from a disaster would become a great man overnight. So soon, however, as Othello wanted a white woman, Desdemona, everything was changed, just as New York would be indignant if their coloured man married a white woman." (Source: "My Fight for Fame. How Shakespeare Paved My Way to Stardom." Pearson's Weekly, April 5, 1930, p 100.) We're also interested in the significance of how Othello's stories about travel, adventure, and even his enslavement lend Othello a romantic and exotic quality that appealed to Desdemona (and others who listened). Despite the way Othello's stories lend him an exotic air, some scholars have pointed out that this passage sounds a lot like some stories that were written by white European travelers. (As we know, Shakespeare lived in an age of exploration, when the English were enthralled with stories about encounters with new people and cultures. Check out, for example, The Voyages and Travels of Sir John Mandeville, compiled in the fourteenth century but reprinted in 1582.) Othello, then, seems to present himself here as, well, a white European traveler, one who has encountered (and lived to tell about) primitive "cannibals" and "men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders." Why does Othello do this? Is he trying to distance himself from the kinds of racist stereotypes sixteenth century Europeans assigned to foreigners and black men (savage, animalistic, etc.)? We also want to point out how the tragedy of Othello is that, by play's end, Othello ends up fulfilling a racist stereotype (that black men are savage murderers) when he kills his white wife in her bed. In other words, Othello ends up becoming not unlike the murdering exotics he talks about in his adventure stories. So, what's going on here? Does this mean the play is racist? Or, was Shakespeare trying to provoke his sixteenth-century audiences into (re)thinking their ideas about racial identity?

One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damned in a fair wife, That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster—unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the togèd consuls can propose As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election; And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds Christian and heathen, must be beleed and calmed By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster, He, in good time, must his lieutenant be

Othello- Iago; (1.1.21-34) Here, Iago claims he hates Othello because Othello passed him, Iago, over for a promotion, giving "one Michael Cassio" the job as his military lieutenant instead. Iago claims he's far more qualified than Cassio, who lacks Iago's experience on the field of battle. Clearly, Iago seems pretty jealous. But is this the real reason Iago sets out to destroy Othello? Or, is this merely an excuse to go after him? In other words, does Iago say all of this in order to manipulate Roderigo? (Roderigo, as we soon learn, is completely envious of Othello for marrying Desdemona.)

For, sir, It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. In following him, I follow but myself. Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my particular end. For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In complement extern, 'tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.

Othello- Iago; (1.1.61-71) Iago is all about not revealing his true identity or intentions to anyone. Here, he tells Roderigo that he'll never allow his "outward action[s]" to show what's really going on inside of him because that would leave him vulnerable, kind of like allowing birds ("daws") to peck at his "heart." When Iago says "I am not what I am," he cryptically suggests that he's not what he appears to be. This phrase, we should point out, is an inversion of God's line, "I am what I am" (Exodus 3.14), which is in keeping with the play's alignment of Iago with the devil.

Call up her father, Rouse him. Make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies. Though that his joy be joy, Yet throw such changes of vexation on 't As it may lose some color.

Othello- Iago; (1.1.74-80) Yikes. When Iago talks about corrupting Brabantio's opinion of his fair daughter, Desdemona, he uses the language of poison and plague, which seems pretty appropriate given the nature of Iago's manipulation. When Iago tattles on Othello and Desdemona for eloping, he capitalizes on Brabantio's xenophobic attitude toward mixed race marriages. Here's what Iago says to get Brabantio riled up against Othello: Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise; Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: Arise, I say. (1.1.89-93.1) Check out "Race" if you want to think about the implications of this.

Awake! What ho, Brabantio! Thieves, thieves! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves, thieves!

Othello- Iago; (1.1.86-88) Iago's looking to stir up trouble for Othello when he awakens Brabantio with the news that Othello has eloped with Desdemona. But why does he say "thieves" are the problem? As Brabantio's unmarried daughter, Desdemona is basically considered her father's property. Since she's married Othello without dad's permission, Iago suggests that Othello has stolen her from Brabantio. Be sure to also check out Act One, Scene Two, where Brabantio shouts at Othello, "O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter (1.2.62). Check out our "Quotes" for "Marriage" if you want to think about this some more.

Despise me If I do not. Three great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off-capped to him: and, by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them, with a bombast circumstance Horribly stuffed with epithets of war, And, in conclusion, Nonsuits my mediators. For, 'Certes,' says he, 'I have already chose my officer.' And what was he? Forsooth, a great arithmetician, One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damned in a fair wife, That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster—unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the togèd consuls can propose As masterly as he. Mere prattle, without practice Is all his soldiership.

Othello- Iago; (1.1.9-28) Iago claims that he hates Othello because Othello passed him over for a promotion and chose Michael Cassio as a lieutenant instead. Iago also says that Cassio doesn't know any more about warfare than a housewife or a spinster does - he's never been on the battlefield and his knowledge of war is more "bookish" than experiential. This passage speaks to the way warfare is considered a man's realm (women didn't participate in battle). It also raises the question of why Iago hates Othello so much - Othello's refusal to promote Iago is just one of several reasons Iago gives for setting out to destroy the general.

Zounds, sir, you're robbed. For shame, put on your gown! Your heart is burst. You have lost half your soul. Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise! Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you. Arise, I say!

Othello- Iago; (1.1.94-101) There's that reference to Brabantio being "robb'd" again. As we pointed out in the previous passage, Iago suggests that Desdemona's elopement is a kind of theft. What's interesting to us about this passage, however, is that Iago plays on fears of miscegenation (when interracial couples "intermix" via sex and/or marriage) when he says an "old black ram" (Othello) is "tupping" (sleeping with) Brabantio's "white ewe" (Desdemona). (By the way, a "ewe" is a lamb, so there's a suggestion that Desdemona's white skin makes her pure.) Iago's vivid and crude description of the lovemaking between a black man and a white woman is meant to scare Brabantio into thinking that Desdemona's lamb-like purity and whiteness are being contaminated and compromised by her sexual relationship with a black man. Not only that, Iago suggests that Othello is a "devil" that will make Brabantio the "grandsire" of black (like the devil) babies.

Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise! Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you. [...] you'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse, you'll have your nephews neigh to you,

Othello- Iago; (1.1.97-100; 124-126) In order to manipulate Brabantio's fears of miscegenation, Iago uses animal metaphors to suggest that Desdemona is being defiled by Othello. Check out "Race" for more on this.

Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise! Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you. Arise, I say!

Othello- Iago; (1.1.97-101) Iago uses racist slurs when he wakens Brabantio with the news that his daughter, Desdemona (a white Venetian), has eloped with Othello (an older, black man). When Iago says an "old black ram" (Othello) is "tupping" (sleeping with) Brabantio's "white ewe" (Desdemona), he plays on Elizabethan notions that black men have an animal-like, hyper-sexuality. This seems geared at manipulating Brabantio's fears of miscegenation (when a couple "mixes races" through marriage and/or sex). History Snack: It's also important to note that, although Othello is probably a Christian, Iago calls him "the devil," playing on a sixteenth century idea that black men were evil and that the devil often took the shape and form of a black man. Check out what Reginald Scott had to say in his famous 1584 book, The Discovery of Witchcraft: "Bodin alloweth the divell the shape of a black moore, and as he saith, he used to appear to Mawd Cruse, Kate Darey, and Jon Harviller." (Later, it's no surprise that Brabantio will accuse Othello of using black magic to woo Desdemona.)

I hate the Moor, And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets 'Has done my office. I know not if 't be true, But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety.

Othello- Iago; (1.3.329-433) Now this is interesting. Earlier, Iago said he hates Othello because "the Moor" passed him over for a promotion. Yet, here, Iago says he hates Othello because he's heard a rumor that Othello has been hooking up with Iago's wife, Emilia, "twixt [Iago's] sheets." Iago says he doesn't exactly know if the rumor's true, but he's decided to go ahead and ruin Othello's life anyway. Seems like Iago has listed a couple of incompatible motives for seeking to destroy Othello, wouldn't you say? So, we're just not sure we can believe that Iago's jealous of Othello's supposed relationship with Emilia.

But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor, And it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets He has done my office. I know not if 't be true, But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety.

Othello- Iago; (1.3.429-433) Iago cites multiple and incompatible motives for wanting to destroy Othello. Earlier, he said he hates Othello because "the Moor" passed him over for a promotion, but here, he tells us he hates "the Moor" because he's heard a rumor that Othello has been hooking up with Iago's wife, Emilia, "twixt [Iago's] sheets." It's just not clear whether or not we, as an audience, can believe anything Iago has to say.

I hate the Moor: And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets 'Has done my office. I know not if't be true, But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety.

Othello- Iago; (1.3.429-433) We discuss this passage in "Jealousy," but it's important to the theme of marriage as well. Here, Iago suggests that his wife, Emilia, has cheated on him with Othello. Now, we know this is completely untrue. What we don't know is whether or not Iago actually believes that Othello has slept with Emilia. As we know, Iago lists multiple (and incompatible) motives for seeking to destroy Othello (elsewhere, he says he hates Othello because he was passed up for a promotion), so it's entirely possible that Iago's the one who makes up the rumor about Othello and Emilia. On the other hand, most men in the play assume that all women are promiscuous and unfaithful in general, so it's not so surprising that Iago would believe Emilia has been untrue.

Cassio's a proper man. Let me see now: To get his place and to plume up my will In double knavery—How, how? Let's see. After some time, to abuse Othello's ear That he is too familiar with his wife. He hath a person and a smooth dispose To be suspected, framed to make women false. The Moor is of a free and open nature, That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, And will as tenderly be led by th' nose As asses are. I have 't. It is engendered. Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.

Othello- Iago; (1.3.435-447) A few lines earlier (see above passage), Iago claimed that he suspects Othello has been sleeping with his wife, Emilia. Here, Iago shares his plot to destroy Othello with the audience - since Othello is so gullible, Iago will lead him "by the nose," making Othello believe that his, Othello's, wife is having an affair with Cassio. Iago plans to plant the seeds of jealousy in Othello. What's interesting about this passage is the way Iago sees his evil plan as a "monstrous birth," a thing that he will bring to "light." What's up with that?

Now, I do love her too, Not out of absolute lust (though peradventure I stand accountant for as great a sin) But partly led to diet my revenge, For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leaped into my seat—the thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards, And nothing can or shall content my soul Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb For I fear Cassio with my nightcap too,

Othello- Iago; (2.1.313-329) Iago is completely obsessed with infidelity. Earlier, we heard him say that he suspects Othello has slept with Emilia (a sentiment he repeats in this passage). Not only that, he also says he "fear[s]" that even Cassio is sleeping with his wife. What's Iago going to do about it? Why, he's going to try to sleep with Desdemona, which will allow him to get even with the "lusty Moor." If he can't do that, he wants to make Othello believe that Desdemona is screwing around with Cassio.

For whiles this honest fool Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes, And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, I'll pour this pestilence into his ear: That she repeals him for her body's lust; And by how much she strives to do him good, She shall undo her credit with the Moor. So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

Othello- Iago; (2.3.373-382) Earlier, we saw how Cassio sees his "reputation" as being the sum of his public behavior and his military service. Here, we can see that Desdemona's "reputation" hinges on her fidelity to her husband. When Iago says he's going to ruin Desdemona's "credit with the Moor," he means he's going to tarnish her reputation as a loyal wife ("turn her virtue into pitch").

If I can fasten but one cup upon him With that which he hath drunk tonight already, He'll be as full of quarrel and offense As my young mistress' dog.

Othello- Iago; (2.3.49-52) Iago schemes to get Cassio drunk because he knows Cassio, who is kind of a mean drunk, will end up getting into a fight. Why? Because he wants Cassio (a soldier) to get in trouble with Othello (Cassio's boss/general) so that Desdemona will try to intervene on Cassio's behalf, which will make Othello jealous and suspicious. If this sounds overly elaborate and unrealistic to you, you're not alone. Literary critics often point out that much of Iago's plotting is, well, pretty implausible.

Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure. I would not have your free and noble nature, Out of self-bounty, be abused. Look to 't. I know our country disposition well; In Venice they do let God see the pranks They dare not show their husbands. Their best conscience Is not to leave 't undone, but keep 't unknown.

Othello- Iago; (3.3.228-236) Iago claims that Venetian women can't be trusted because they all deceive their husbands with their secret "pranks." This seems to be the dominant attitude in the play, wouldn't you say? Just about every male character in the play assumes that women are promiscuous and disloyal. Perhaps this is the reason why Iago is able to manipulate Othello into believing that Desdemona is unfaithful. History Snack: In Elizabethan England, Venice was infamous for its courtesans (prostitutes). When Elizabethans thought about Venice, they often imagined it to be a city full of promiscuous women. Check out what Thomas Coryat has to say in his account of his travels to Venice: [t]he name of a Courtezan of Venice is famoused over all Christendome [...] The woman that professeth this trade is called in the Italian tongue Cotezana, which word is derived from the Italian word cortesia that signifieth courtesie. Because these kinds of women are said to receive courtesies of their favorites [...] As for the number of these Venetian courtesans it is very great. For it is thought there are of them in the whole city and other adjacent places, as Murano, Malamocco, etc. at the least twenty thousand, whereof many are esteemed so loose that they are said to open their quivers to every arrow, a most ungodly thing without doubt that there should be tolleration of such licentious wantons in so glorious, so potent, so renowned a city." (Coryat's Crudities, 1611)

Ay, there's the point. As, to be bold with you, Not to affect many proposèd matches Of her own clime, complexion, and degree, Whereto we see in all things nature tends— Foh! One may smell in such a will most rank, Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural— But pardon me—I do not in position Distinctly speak of her, though I may fear Her will, recoiling to her better judgment, May fall to match you with her country forms And happily repent.

Othello- Iago; (3.3.268-278) Iago suggests that there's something "unnatural" and "rank" about Desdemona if she would decide to marry a black man instead of a man who is of "her own clime, complexion, and degree" (a.k.a. a European man, especially a man from Venice). The word "rank" has serious sexual connotations for Shakespeare - it implies a kind of festering and rot associated with sexually transmitted disease. So, Iago is implying that Desdemona's sexual desire for Othello not only makes her "unnatural," but also suggests that she's promiscuous and corrupt - the kind of girl who might have an STD. (Compare Iago's words here to Hamlet's obsession with his mother's "rank" marriage bed by checking out our discussion of "Symbols" in Hamlet.) We also want to point out that Iago isn't just playing on Othello's fears about his wife's sexuality. Iago also plays on Othello's fears about his status as a black Moor. Iago says Desdemona will eventually change her mind or "repent" for being with him, leaving Othello for a white man instead. Notice Othello doesn't disagree with any of this. It seems Othello's already beginning to believe that Desdemona is or will be unfaithful to him because 1) she's promiscuous and 2) Othello is a black man, and therefore not good enough for Desdemona. None of what Iago has to say is true. So why is Othello so easily manipulated by Iago? Is it because Iago tells him what he already suspects to be true? If so, does this mean that Othello is a victim of society's racist ideologies?

Trifles light as air Are to the jealous confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.

Othello- Iago; (3.3.370-372) Iago realizes that real proof of Desdemona's supposed infidelity is not necessary because mere suspicion is enough to feed Othello's jealousy. In the case of Othello, Iago will use the handkerchief Othello gave Desdemona in order to convince Othello that Desdemona's been cheating. (Remember, when Desdemona dropped her handkerchief by accident, Emilia picked it up and gave it to Iago. Iago says he's going to drop it for Cassio to find.) Even though the handkerchief is a mere "trifle, light as air," once Othello sees it in another man's possession, he'll think he has solid proof that Desdemona is unfaithful. When Iago says the handkerchief will be "as proofs of holy writ" to Othello, he means that Othello will see the handkerchief as the gospel truth that Desdemona's a cheater.

The Moor already changes with my poison; Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, But with a little act upon the blood Burn like the mines of Sulphur. Enter Othello. I did say so. Look, where he comes. Not poppy, nor mandragora Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou owedst yesterday.

Othello- Iago; (3.3.373-382) Iago realizes the unbelievable power of jealousy. Here, he claims that he has poisoned Othello's mind by suggesting Desdemona may be up to something naughty. Because Iago has succeeded in making Othello suspicious, Othello will never, ever have a good night of sleep again, not even if he used the best sleeping medicine in the world.

Now will I question Cassio of Bianca, A huswife that by selling her desires Buys herself bread and clothes. It is a creature That dotes on Cassio—as 'tis the strumpet's plague To beguile many and be beguiled by one. He, when he hears of her, cannot restrain From the excess of laughter. Here he comes:

Othello- Iago; (4.1.110-116) Here, Iago tells the audience that he'll trick Othello into believing that Cassio is bragging about an affair with Desdemona when, in reality, Cassio will be bragging about his relationship with Bianca, a courtesan. Iago notes that Bianca's a "huswife" (or, hussy) who makes a living by forging relationships with men like Cassio. Iago makes some pretty obnoxious assumptions about Bianca. According to Iago, all "strumpets" deceive lots of men but usually end up being deceived (and heartbroken) by the one man they fall in love with. As evidence, Iago refers to the fact that Bianca is in love with Cassio, who doesn't love her back. Instead, Cassio finds her to be "laugh[able]" and makes fun of her when talking with his male friends. Our point? Although Iago accuses courtesans like Bianca of "beguile[ing]" men, this passage seems emblematic of the way the men in the play think nothing of using women. Also, Iago's the one doing all the "beguile[ing]" here, isn't he? It seems like Shakespeare's pretty sympathetic toward Bianca and the other women in the play.

Demand me nothing. What you know, you know. From this time forth I never will speak word.

Othello- Iago; (5.2.355-356) This is the last time Iago speaks in the play. After Othello demands to know why Iago set out to destroy him, Iago remains silent. But why? One would think that Iago would want to gloat but he refuses to explain his actions, leaving Othello and the audience pretty clueless about Iago's motives.

, striking her Devil! I have not deserved this. [...] O, devil, devil! If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile. Out of my sight! I will not stay to offend you.

Othello- Othello & Desdemona; (4.1.269; 273-277) When we think of Othello, our thoughts often turn to Othello's tragic downfall and/or the way he's victimized by Iago. But, here's a reminder that the real victim in the play is Desdemona. At the play's beginning, Desdemona is strong, confident, and defiant but she winds up becoming the victim of Othello's physical and emotional abuse. From this point on, she is passive and obedient and by the play's end, she blames herself for Othello's violent behavior. Later, when Emilia asks Desdemona who has harmed her, Desdemona replies "Nobody; I myself. Farewell" (5.2.125). We can't help but notice that Desdemona exhibits a classic symptom of "battered woman syndrome" - instead of telling Emilia the truth about Othello strangling her, she blames herself (and not her attacker) for the abuse she endures

What dost thou say, Iago? Did Michael Cassio, When you woo'd my lady, know of your love? He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? But for a satisfaction of my thought, No further harm. Why of thy thought, Iago? I did not think he had been acquainted with her. O yes, and went between us very oft. Indeed? Indeed? Ay, indeed! Discern'st thou aught in that? Is he not honest?

Othello- Othello & Iago; (3.3.104-115) This is where Iago plants the seeds of doubt in Othello's mind. Iago suggests that Cassio, who often acted as a go-between when Othello was wooing Desdemona, "went between" Othello and his girl in more ways than one, wink, wink. Iago doesn't come right out and say that Cassio and Desdemona have been sneaking around - he implies that something's up, and Othello takes the bait.

Give me a living reason she's disloyal. I do not like the office, But sith I am entered in this cause so far, Pricked to 't by foolish honesty and love, I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately, And, being troubled with a raging tooth I could not sleep. There are a kind of men So loose of soul, that in their sleeps will mutter their affairs. One of this kind is Cassio. In sleep I heard him say 'Sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves.' And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry 'O sweet creature!' then kiss me hard, As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots That grew upon my lips; then laid his leg Over my thigh, and sighed, and kissed; and then Cried 'Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!' O monstrous! Monstrous!

Othello- Othello & Iago; (3.3.467-483) When Othello asks for "living reason" (proof) that Desdemona's been "disloyal," Iago tells him about a sexy dream that Cassio supposedly had one night while he was lying in bed next to Iago (presumably, at an army camp). According to Iago, Cassio talked in his sleep while having a naughty dream about Desdemona. Not only that, but Cassio also grabbed Iago, wrapped his leg over his thigh, and made out with him (all while dreaming about Desdemona). What's going on here? First, it's important to note that Iago is framing Cassio to make it look like he's sleeping with Desdemona. Second, Othello seems willing to accept this story as "proof" that Desdemona's cheating. Third, Iago is describing a blatantly homoerotic moment he has allegedly shared with Cassio, which raises the following question: Is Othello upset/jealous that Cassio (allegedly) had a dream about his wife, or that Cassio was lying in bed and groping Iago? Literary critics have argued both ways, so take your pick and keep reading...

In the due reverence of a sacred vow, I here engage my words. Do not rise yet. Iago kneels. Witness, you ever-burning lights above, You elements that clip us round about, Witness that here Iago doth give up The execution of his wit, hands, heart To wronged Othello's service! Let him command, And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody business ever. [...] I am your own for ever.

Othello- Othello & Iago; (3.4.523-532; 546) Now this is interesting. When Othello makes Iago his new lieutenant and Iago vows to kill Cassio, the pair make a pact that looks and sounds a whole lot like a sixteenth-century marriage ceremony. What's up with that? Is this evidence, as some critics suggest, of a homoerotic attachment between Othello and Iago? If so, has Iago wanted all along to displace Desdemona and become Othello's intimate partner?

Get me some poison, Iago, this night: I'll not expostulate with her lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again. This night, Iago. Do it not with poison. Strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated. Good, good. The justice of it pleases. Very good.

Othello- Othello & Iago; (4.1.223-229) Whoa. We know that Iago is out to destroy Othello, but why is he so intent on destroying Desdemona? After convincing Othello that Desdemona has been cheating, he manipulates Othello into strangling Desdemona "in her bed." What's up with that? More importantly, what's up with Othello thinking that killing his wife in her bed is "just"? By this point in the play, Othello's mind has been completely warped.

By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand, Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Othello- Othello & Iago; 3.3.191-193) Iago emphasizes that his real thoughts and feelings cannot be known by anyone—not Othello and not even the audience.

Let him do his spite. My services which I have done the signiory Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know (Which, when I know that boasting is an honor, I shall promulgate) I fetch my life and being From men of royal siege, and my demerits May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune As this that I have reached. For know, Iago, But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhousèd free condition Put into circumscription and confine For the sea's worth.

Othello- Othello; (1.2.20-31) At this point in the play, Othello is so secure in his value to the state of Venice that he says he does not care if Brabantio slanders him. Othello knows he's done nothing wrong in marrying Desdemona and that the Duke will support him, especially since Othello's a decorated war hero. What's interesting about this passage is how it reveals Othello's sense of himself as a military leader - his valuable "services" to the state of Venice have made him an "insider." At the same time, however, we know that Othello is also an "outsider" - he's a foreigner and his skin is black, which leaves him vulnerable to racist attitudes (like Brabantio's) in Venice.

Her father loved me, oft invited me, Still questioned me the story of my life From year to year—the battles, sieges, fortunes That I have passed. I ran it through, even from my boyish days To the very moment that he bade me tell it, Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances: Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hairbreadth scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence, And portance in my travels' history, Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak—such was the process— And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline. But still the house-affairs would draw her thence, Which ever as she could with haste dispatch She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.149-174) Othello presents himself as an exotic, exciting person who has travelled the world and seen "Cannibals," "Anthropophagi" (man eaters), and "men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders." In his stories, Othello fashions himself into an adventurous and worldly man and it's this person that Desdemona fell in love with as she "devour[ed] up" Othello's stories with a "greedy ear." We're also interested in what Othello's speech reveals about his new father-in-law, Brabantio. According to Othello, Brabantio "loved" him and "oft invited" Othello to tell stories about himself. It wasn't until Othello married Brabantio's daughter that the old man's xenophobia came to light.

My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs. She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful. She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake. She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.182-194) Here, Othello explains that Desdemona fell in love with him while listening to his life stories - romantic tales of travel, adventure, and danger. When Othello recalls that Desdemona said "she wish'd that heaven had made her such a man," we can interpret the line in a couple of ways. On the one hand, it seems pretty obvious that Desdemona wishes heaven "had made such a man" for her to marry, especially given the fact that she suggests that Othello's stories could "woo" her. At the same time, we can read the line to mean that Desdemona wishes heaven had literally made her a man (instead of a woman). Desdemona's the kind of girl who craves action and adventure and she's not content to sit at home. Think, for example, of the fact that she'd rather go to war (1.3.255) right alongside Othello, who lovingly calls Desdemona his "fair warrior" when she shows up in Cyprus (2.1.176.1). Bet you're wondering what the heck happens to this bold, adventurous girl between the time she married Othello and the time she rather passively allows her husband to strangle her. Check out our "Character Analysis" of Desdemona if you want to think about this some more.

The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down. I do agnize A natural and prompt alacrity I find in hardness, and do undertake These present wars against the Ottomites. Most humbly therefore bending to your state, I crave fit disposition for my wife. Due reference of place and exhibition, With such accommodation and besort As levels with her breeding.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.262-272) Without hesitation, Othello puts aside his new bride to dash off to the war, which seems to suggest that he values his position in the military above his love. On the other hand, we could also point out how Othello goes out of his way to make sure his new wife will be taken care of while he's away.

Let her have your voice. Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not To please the palate of my appetite, Nor to comply with heat (the young affects In me defunct) and proper satisfaction, But to be free and bounteous to her mind. And heaven defend your good souls that you think I will your serious and great business scant For she is with me. No, when light-winged toys Of feathered Cupid seal with wanton dullness My speculative and officed instruments, That my disports corrupt and taint my business, Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, And all indign and base adversities Make head against my estimation.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.295-309) Othello is concerned that people will think him unprofessional or distracted by love. He assures everybody that love will not get in the way of war, as he has his priorities straight.

Come, Desdemona, I have but an hour Of love, of worldly matters, and direction, To spend with thee. We must obey the time.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.340-342) Because Othello is called off to war soon after he elopes with Desdemona, the couple must cram their "honeymoon" into one hour.

Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approved good masters: That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her. The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used Their dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great world can I speak More than pertains to feats of broil and battle. And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnished tale deliver Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic (For such proceeding I am charged withal) I won his daughter.

Othello- Othello; (1.3.91-111) Othello identifies himself with the roughness of the battlefield, in contrast to the gentleness or sophistication of civilized Venice, when he says his "speech" is "rude" and he's not been "bless'd with the soft phrase of peace." Yet Othello knows darn well that he is quite eloquent, as he demonstrates here in an incredibly well-wrought speech that he delivers as a defense of his marriage to Desdemona.

All's well now, sweeting. Come away to bed. To Montano. Sir, for your hurts, Myself will be your surgeon.—Lead him off. Montano is led off. Iago, look with care about the town And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.— Come, Desdemona. 'Tis the soldiers' life To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.

Othello- Othello; (2.3.269-277) Once again, Othello's lovemaking has been interrupted by fighting (after Iago gets Cassio drunk and Cassio gets into a brawl, Othello is called upon to settle the matter). At this point, Othello seems resigned to the fact that such interruptions are par for the course when one is a military general.

Come, My dear love, The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; The profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.— Goodnight.

Othello- Othello; (2.3.9-13) At this point in the play, Othello talks about sex in positive terms - as a fruit to enjoy, something that "profits" both man and woman. On the other hand, we could say that Othello's tendency to use financial metaphors - "purchase" and "profit" - make us a little uncomfortable. If marriage is something akin to a "purchase," that leaves the door wide open for viewing one's spouse as a possession. It's also important to note that it's pretty clear that Desdemona and Othello haven't yet consummated their marriage, since Othello says good times in the sack are "yet to come." When Othello says good night to his attendants here, it's obvious that he and Desdemona are running off to have sex, finally. But, shortly thereafter, Othello and Desdemona's evening of fun is interrupted when Cassio gets drunk and gets into a brawl, which Othello is called upon to mediate. So, we're not sure if Othello and Desdemona ever get a chance to do the deed. Why does this matter? Well, some critics argue that the couple never has sex. Other critics argue that they do hook up, which may leave Othello feeling as though he has "contaminated" his wife's sexual and racial purity. After Othello sleeps with his wife, she suddenly becomes a "*****" in his mind. This, according to some, explains why Othello is quick to believe that Desdemona's got something going on the side with Cassio.

Why, why is this? Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy, To follow still the changes of the moon With fresh suspicions? No. To be once in doubt Is once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat, When I shall turn the business of my soul To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well. Where virtue is, these are more virtuous. Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt, For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; And on the proof, there is no more but this: Away at once with love or jealousy.

Othello- Othello; (3.3.207-223) Here, Othello claims that he won't be destroyed by jealousy. He reasons that Desdemona "had eyes, and chose [him]" despite, presumably, the fact that he is black. But, then, Othello lets slip that he may in fact be a bit more jealous and suspicious of his wife than he lets on - he says he wants some "proof" of Desdemona's infidelity. Looks like Iago's master plan may work out after all.

O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad And live upon the vapor of a dungeon Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others' uses. Yet 'tis the plague of great ones; Prerogatived are they less than the base. 'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death. Even then this forked plague is fated to us When we do quicken.

Othello- Othello; (3.3.309-318) Get your highlighter out because this is important. When Othello is convinced (by Iago) that Desdemona has cheated on him, he reveals something pretty interesting about himself. It seems that Othello believes all men, both "great" and "base," are "destin[ed]" to be cuckolds. FYI: A "cuckold" is a man whose been cheated on by his wife - cuckolds are commonly associated with horns, which is why Othello refers to cuckoldry as a "forked plague" that men suffer from. So, if Othello believes that all men are destined, from the moment of their birth, to be cheated on by their wives, then this helps to explain why Othello is so easily convinced that Desdemona has been unfaithful, despite the fact that Iago never actually shows Othello any real evidence.

OTHELLO Her name, that was as fresh As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black As mine own face.

Othello- Othello; (3.3.441-443) This is one of the most important passages in the play. When Othello suspects that Desdemona is cheating on him with Cassio (she's not, by the way), he suggests that his "name," or his reputation, is now soiled and "begrimed" because of his wife's supposed infidelity. (This idea, that a wife's fidelity to her husband can make or break a man's good reputation is pretty common in Shakespeare's plays. See, for example, The Comedy of Errors, where the fidelity of Antipholus of Ephesus' wife plays such an important role in her husband's good name around town.) What's interesting about this passage is Othello's use of a racist discourse. When he says his "name" used to be "as fresh as Dian's" face, he aligns his (former) good reputation with the "fresh[ness]" of a white face. (Diane is the goddess of the pale moon and of chastity.) Now that Othello feels his wife's supposed sexual infidelity has soiled his good reputation, he compares his once good name to his "begrimed and black" face. In other words, Othello associates the blackness of his own skin with something dirty and stained, which is exactly the kind of thing that the racist Venetian characters (like Brabantio) have been saying all along. The point we're trying to make here is that, by this moment in the play, Othello seems to have internalized the racist ideologies of other characters. He sees himself as a soiled (and soiling) black man. Note: Some versions of the play read "Her name, that was as fresh / as Dian's visage is now begrimed and black / as my own face." How does the substitution of "her name" for "my name" change the meaning of this passage? (Psst. This is a great paper topic...)

Her name, that was as fresh As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black As mine own face.

Othello- Othello; (3.3.441-443) We talk about this passage in more detail in "Race," but it's worth mentioning in our discussion here as well. When Othello suspects that Desdemona is cheating on him with Cassio, he suggests that his "name," or his reputation, is now soiled and "begrimed" because of his wife's supposed infidelity. This idea, that a wife's fidelity to her husband can make or break a man's good reputation, is pretty common in Shakespeare's plays. See, for example, The Comedy of Errors, where the fidelity of Antipholus of Ephesus' wife plays such an important role in her husband's good name around town.

All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven. 'Tis gone. Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell!

Othello- Othello; (3.3.4505-507) Othello himself associates blackness with something negative - "vengeance."

Ay, let her rot, and perish and be damned tonight, for she shall not live. No, my heart is turned to stone. I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature! She might lie by an emperor's side and command him tasks.

Othello- Othello; (4.1.200-204) Iago transforms the passion of Othello's love into hatred.

I will chop her into messes! Cuckold me?

Othello- Othello; (4.1.219) Othello is filled with rage at the idea that Desdemona has made him a "cuckold" (a man whose wife has cheated on him). To be a "cuckold" was a shameful thing in Elizabethan society and meant that a husband's masculinity had been destroyed.

Had it pleased heaven To try me with affliction, had they rained All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head, Steeped me in poverty to the very lips, Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes, I should have found in some place of my soul A drop of patience. But alas, to make me A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at—

Othello- Othello; (4.2.57-65) Othello tells Desdemona that the worst thing about her cheating on him is that it makes him become a ridiculous figure - the cheated-on husband, one that people will just laugh at. (We know, of course, that Othello is wrong about Desdemona's supposed infidelity.) It seems like Othello isn't so much "heartbroken" by the idea that his wife has been unfaithful as he is embarrassed and ashamed.

She's like a liar gone to burning hell! 'Twas I that killed her. EMILIA O, the more angel she, and you the blacker devil!

Othello- Othello; (5.2.159-161) When Othello kills Desdemona, he enacts a racist stereotype - that black men are violent, savage, and to be feared. Does this make the play and/or Shakespeare racist? Or, is there a more complex idea at work in the play?

Yet I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light, If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore.

Othello- Othello; (5.2.3-9) As Othello resolves to kill Desdemona, he is noticeably preoccupied with Desdemona's "whiter" than snow skin. He implies he won't stab her because he doesn't want to "scar" her flesh. He also seems to think of her as a kind of pale statue - her skin's as "smooth as monumental alabaster." What's up with that? Why does Othello fixate on Desdemona's skin color (as he contemplates her infidelity) just before he kills her?

Behold, I have a weapon. A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldier's thigh.

Othello- Othello; (5.2.310-312) After Othello strangles Desdemona (for her alleged adultery) on the bed the couple shares, Othello's reference to his "weapon," which rests upon his "soldier's thigh," seems blatantly phallic, don't you think? Othello's words forge a disturbing relationship between sex and death.

Behold, I have a weapon. A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldier's thigh. I have seen the day That, with this little arm and this good sword I have made my way through more impediments Than twenty times your stop. But—O vain boast!—

Othello- Othello; (5.2.310-315) After Othello strangles Desdemona (for her alleged adultery) on the bed the couple shares, Othello's reference to his "weapon," which rests upon his "soldier's thigh," seems blatantly phallic, don't you think? Othello's words forge a disturbing relationship between sex and death.

Soft you. A word or two before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know 't. No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely, but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinable gum. Set you down this. And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turbanned Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circumcisèd dog, And smote him, thus. He stabs himself.

Othello- Othello; (5.2.397-417) Just before he commits suicide, Othello emphasizes his identity as a loyal soldier, which is how he wants to be remembered. At the same time, he also sees himself as a "malignant and a turban'd Turk" (a hated outsider and war opponent). By stabbing himself with the same sword he often used to kill enemy "Turks," Othello suggests that he sees himself as an enemy of the Venetian state.

Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum.

Othello- Othello; (5.2.402-412) By this point, it's pretty clear that Othello has internalized the racist ideas that were so common in the sixteenth century. When Othello realizes that he murdered Desdemona for no good reason (Desdemona has been faithful and loving all along), he imagines he's just like a "base Indian" who "threw a pearl away" without knowing its true worth. What's interesting about this passage is the way Othello's comparison gives voice to a common notion among Elizabethans - that Native Americans and black Africans alike are "base," or uncivilized. (Accounts of European encounters with Native Americans are full of stories about how Europeans were able to trade worthless beads for precious gems and gold - the idea being that natives were too ignorant to know the "true" value of anything.) It's also worth noting that Othello compares Desdemona to a pearl, a white gem commonly associated with purity.

Come, let us to the castle.— News, friends! Our wars are done. The Turks are drowned. How does my old acquaintance of this isle?— Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus, I have found great love amongst them. O, my sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I dote In mine own comforts.—I prithee, good Iago, Go to the bay and disembark my coffers. Bring thou the master to the citadel. He is a good one, and his worthiness Does challenge much respect.—Come, Desdemona. Once more, well met at Cyprus.

Othello- Othello; 2.1.221-233) After a storm destroys the Turks' ships and the big war is cancelled, Othello is overjoyed to see his "fair warrior," Desdemona. He "prattle[s]" on (rather sweetly) until he catches himself and quickly returns to business.

I had been happy, if the general camp, Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dead clamors counterfeit, Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!

Othello- Othello; 3.3.397-409) Because Othello (mistakenly) believes Desdemona has cheated on him, Othello feels like he can't be a soldier any more. All the manly, warlike things - military music, thrusting cannons, and big wars - are denied him; he is convinced that he has lost his masculine, soldier identity. What's up with that? Does he say this because he feels that he has been emasculated? Because he believes that his credibility as a military leader has been compromised? Or, is he suggesting that he is so distraught by Desdemona's supposed affair that he will never find pleasure in the things he once loved (being a military man)? Something else?

Minion, your dear lies dead, And your unblest fate hies. Strumpet, I come. Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted. Thy bed, lust-stained, shall with lust's blood be spotted.

Othello- Othello; 5.1.36-41) Because Othello believes Desdemona has been cheating on him, he rationalizes (in the most irrational and disturbing way) that it's fitting for him to kill his wife on the bed they share as a married couple.

Soft you. A word or two before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know 't. No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely, but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum. Set you down this. And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turbanned Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circumcisèd dog, And smote him, thus. [He stabs himself. ]

Othello- Othello; 5.2.397-417) Here, Othello says he "loved" Desdemona "too well" (too much), which suggests that he doesn't really understand the implications of what he's done. We're also interested in the way Othello wants to control the way people think of him (after his death). He wants to be remembered as a soldier who "has done the state some service" and who has killed a lot of Venice's enemies. Yet, he also seems to think of his murder of Desdemona as a crime against the Venetian state, as he compares himself to a "turban'd Turk" by killing himself with the same sword he has used to smite Venice's enemies on the battlefield.

such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it. Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward: he can deliver you more. How goes it now, sir? this news which is called true is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong suspicion: has the king found his heir?

TWT - 2nd Gentleman; (5.2.1) The Second Gentleman's description of the fantastical unfolding of events that led up to Perdita's reunion with her father draws our attention to the implausibility of Shakespeare's story. There's so much "wonder" in it that even "ballad-makers" (writers who composed ballads out of news stories) would have a hard time conveying the details of how Leontes's "found his heir." The whole thing sounds more like an "old" winter's tale, which is a great story but one that doesn't have much credit. Here, it seems that Shakespeare is acknowledging the implausibility of his own play/work of art.

Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence--in so rare--I know not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.

TWT - Archidamus; (1.1.3) Hmm. Archidamus's uneasy comments, about how Bohemia may not be as good at entertaining as Sicily, seem to suggest a bit of competition between Leontes and Polixenes, don't you think? This could be the play's first hint that the long-standing friendship between Polixenes and Leontes is imperfect.

I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it.

TWT - Archidamus; (1.1.4) Archidamus notes that Leontes and Polixenes have such a deep affection for one another, it seems like there's nothing in the world that could possibly come between them. Shakespeare is being pretty ironic here - in the very next scene, we'll see that Leontes's unfounded jealousy and "malice" will "alter" the men's friendship and will also destroy Leontes's family.

The heavens continue their loves! I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it.

TWT - Camillo and Archidamus; (1.1.4) Shakespeare injects a whole lot of irony into the play when Camillo and Archidamus predict that nothing could ever come between Leontes and Polixenes, who have been best buds since childhood. We know that Leontes's jealousy will break up the friendship (as well as Leontes's family).

I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child; one that indeed physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to see him a man. ARCHIDAMUS Would they else be content to die? CAMILLO Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live. ARCHIDAMUS If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one.

TWT - Camillo and Archidamus; (1.1.5) Camillo insists that young Mamillius, the kingdom's pride and joy, has the capacity to restore the health of the Sicilian subjects and makes old people want to live longer. This is kind of an odd thing to say and it's also ironic given that Mamillius will fall ill and die in the play's third act. Despite Mamillius's fate, however, Camillo's words also seem to anticipate the way in which youth really will have a restorative and healing power in Act 5, when Florizel and Perdita's blossoming young love will reunite their families at the Sicilian court.

Business, my lord? I think most understand Bohemia stays here longer. Ha? Stays here longer. Ay, but why? To satisfy your highness and the entreaties Of our most gracious mistress. Satisfy! The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy!

TWT - Camillo and Leontes; (1.2.5) At Leontes's prompting, Camillo innocently remarks that everybody knows Polixenes has decided to stay in Sicily because Queen Hermione asked him to. (We should point out that Leontes is the one who asked Hermione convince his friend to stay a while longer in the first place.) When Camillo says Polixenes wanted to "satisfy" Hermione, he means that Polixenes wanted to be polite and make the queen happy by staying in town a little while longer. But Polixenes (deliberately?) misinterprets Camillo - his repetition of the phrase "satisfy!" suggests that Leontes thinks Polixenes has decided to stay in Bohemia in order to sexually gratify Queen Hermione. Poor Camillo has no idea what's going on and doesn't realize that he has inadvertently fueled Leontes's jealousy and suspicion.

Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent, shook hands, as over a vast, and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves!

TWT - Camillo; (1.1.4) Although Polixenes and Leontes now communicate via letters, the exchange of gifts, and the occasional visit, when the two men were younger, they were practically inseparable. Here, Camillo uses the language of horticulture to describe the way the two kings were brought up or "trained together in their childhoods," creating a deep bond and affection that "rooted betwixt them" before Leontes and Polixenes were forced apart, or "branch[ed]" off from each other.

TWT - Camillo; (1.1.5) Here, Camillo brags that the young prince is so special that he "makes old hearts fresh." Not only does Mamillius have the power to make it seem as though time has been reversed (meaning, he makes old people feel young again), but he also instills in the old and frail a desire to extend their time on earth in order to see him grow up into a "man." Young Mamillius tends to have this effect on everyone.

Good my lord, be cured Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; For 'tis most dangerous.

TWT - Camillo; (1.2.11) Here, Camillo urges Leontes to get a grip on his jealousy, which is like a terrible "disease." The metaphor appears later as well, when Camillo insists that jealousy is a "sickness" that infects everyone around it (1.2.22). This turns out to be true because Leontes's jealousy destroys his family, his friendship with Polixenes, and his kingdom's political health (since Sicily is without an heir after Mamillius's death and Perdita's abandonment).

Why, be so still; here's nobody will steal that from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly, --thou must think there's a necessity in't,--and change garments with this gentleman: though the pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot.

TWT - Camillo; (4.4.24) In the last passage, we pointed out how Camillo seems to resemble a theater director when he orchestrates Florizel and Perdita's escape from Bohemia. Here, he continues to "direct" as he orders Autolycus to exchange clothes with the prince. This isn't Autolycus's first costume change - we've already seen him disguised as a robbery victim and a peddler. A few lines from now, we'll watch him deceive the Old Shepherd and the Clown by pretending to be a nobleman.

O, peace, Paulina! Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent, As I by thine a wife: this is a match, And made between's by vows.

TWT - Camillo; (5.3.14) In the play's final scene, sixteen long years of suffering at the Sicilian court give way to the joyous and miraculous reunion of Leontes's family, the seeming resurrection of Hermione, the renewal of Leontes's friendship with Polixenes, and the union of Florizel and Perdita, which takes care of the whole Sicily-is-without-an-heir problem. Here, even Paulina gets engaged to Camillo in a moment that renews domestic and social order.

Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make, Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down More penitence than done trespass: at the last, Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil; With them forgive yourself. Whilst I remember Her and her virtues, I cannot forget My blemishes in them, and so still think of The wrong I did myself; which was so much, That heirless it hath made my kingdom and Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man Bred his hopes out of.

TWT - Cleomenes and Leontes; (5.1.1) Some of Leontes's advisors urge the king to forgive himself for his sins. It's been sixteen years and, according to Cleomenes, it's time to move on—for Leontes's sake and also the sake of the kingdom. With Mamillius dead and Perdita lost, the kingdom is without an heir, so all of Sicily is suffering.

TWT - Cleomenes and Leontes; (5.1.1) We know that sixteen long years have passed since Leontes lost his family. Here, it becomes clear that, for the long-suffering King of Sicily, time seems to have stood still. The memory of his wife and his own "blemishes" prohibit the king from moving forward. Leontes's grief and guilt keeps him frozen in time.

TWT - Cleomenes; (5.1.1) Cleomenes suggests that Leontes has suffered long enough for his sins and urges the king to forgive himself. So, what do you think? Has Leontes "paid down more penitence than [he's] done trespass"? Why or why not?

Beseech you, sir, Remember since you owed no more to time Than I do now: with thought of such affections, Step forth mine advocate; at your request My father will grant precious things as trifles.

TWT - Florizel; (5.1.7) Here, Florizel pleads with Leontes to be an advocate for his relationship with Perdita. What's interesting is that Florizel asks the king to remember the "time" when he was young and in love, which suggests that the passage of time has the effect of hardening us - as we age, we lose touch with the things that are most important, like love.

Old sir, I know She prizes not such trifles as these are: The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd Up in my heart; which I have given already, But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, Hath sometime loved!

TWT - Florizell; (4.4.9) When Florizel explains his love for Perdita to a disguised Polixenes, he emphasizes the difference in age between himself and the "ancient sir" that doesn't seem to understand young love. When Polixenes later objects to Florizel's union with Perdita, he sees it as a matter of social position - it's not fitting for a prince to marry a "shepherd's daughter." Here, however, we can see that Florizel chalks up the old man's attitude to the generation gap, as he implies that the old guy standing before him just doesn't get it.

There was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with countenances of such distraction that they were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, cries 'O, thy mother, thy mother!' then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son-in-law; then again worries he his daughter with clipping her; now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it and undoes description to do it.

TWT - Gentleman; (5.2.2) Seriously. If the reunion of Perdita and Leontes is such a joyous occasion, why do we have to hear about from the Gentleman? Why doesn't Shakespeare stage this moment directly? Is he afraid too much celebration would be overkill? (After all, we've got the big statue scene coming up.) Or, is it more effective to hear about the reunion from other witnesses?

No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,--a piece many years in doing and now newly performed by that rare Italian master, Giulio Romano, who, had he himself eternity and could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione that they say one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer: thither with all greediness of affection are they gone, and there they intend to sup.

TWT - Gentleman; (5.2.6) The Third Gentleman says that Giulio Romano (an Italian artist who lived between 1499 and 1546) is responsible for creating the lifelike statue of Hermione. He pays the artist the highest compliment when he insists that Romano can "beguile nature" with his realistic art work.

If you would seek us, We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there? To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found, Be you beneath the sky. Aside I am angling now, Though you perceive me not how I give line. Go to, go to! How she holds up the neb, the bill to him! And arms her with the boldness of a wife To her allowing husband!

TWT - Hermione and Leontes; 1.2.15) Leontes think he's pretty crafty and suggests that he's going to catch Hermione and Polixenes in a compromising position. Basically, Leontes refuses Hermione's invitation to join her and Polixenes in the garden and then uses it as an excuse to build a case (in his mind) against his wife and friend, who are merely being friendly and playful toward each other.

How will this grieve you, When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that You thus have publish'd me! Gentle my lord, You scarce can right me thoroughly then to say You did mistake.

TWT - Hermione; (2.1.11) After Leontes accuses his wife of infidelity, Hermione predicts the grief that Leontes will suffer when he eventually realizes his mistake. By then, she suggests, it will be too late to make things right with his wife.

My second joy And first-fruits of my body, from his presence I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast, The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth, Haled out to murder: myself on every post Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried Here to this place, i' the open air, before I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, Tell me what blessings I have here alive, That I should fear to die?

TWT - Hermione; (3.2.5) A defiant and eloquent Hermione explains why death wouldn't be the worst punishment Leontes could hand out. Not only has Mamillius (the "firs-fruits of [her] body") been stripped away from her, but her newborn infant has also been torn from her "breast" while breastfeeding. Not only that, but Hermione was denied the "child-bed privilege," a period of time in which new mothers are supposed to be given total privacy and bed rest. (This was a huge deal in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century England.) In other words, Hermione has experienced a living hell and there's nothing Leontes could do to make her suffer more. Or so she thinks. Keep reading...

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, But know not how it went. My second joy And first-fruits of my body, from his presence I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast, The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth, Haled out to murder: myself on every post Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried Here to this place, i' the open air, before I have got strength of limit.

TWT - Hermione; (3.2.5) Hermione points out the injustices she's suffered as a woman grossly abused by her jealous husband: she's lost her position as queen, she's been rejected by her husband, she's been barred from seeing her first-born child (Mamillius), and her second-born child (Perdita) has been torn from her breast and is probably dead. What's more, Hermione wasn't even given the "childbed privilege" (she wasn't allowed to rest and recuperate in private after giving birth). History Snack: The "child-bed" privilege is also called a "lying in" period. It refers to a mother's right to rest and recuperate in seclusion (only her closest women friends, relatives, and servants were allowed to hang out in her private chamber) after giving birth. This was a huge deal in Shakespeare's England, especially given the fact that people thought outside air was harmful to mothers who had just delivered babies. The fact that Leontes allows Hermione to deliver her baby in prison and deprives her of her lying-in period speaks to Leontes's brutality.

You gods, look down And from your sacred vials pour your graces Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own. Where hast thou been preserved? where lived? how found Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear that I, Knowing by Paulina that the oracle Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved Myself to see the issue.

TWT - Hermione; (5.3.1) Is Hermione's "resurrection" the result of Perdita's arrival in Sicily?

Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil Twenty-three years.

TWT - Leontes (1.2.15) Just after Leontes begins to suspect that his wife is cheating on him, he says that looking into his young boy's face takes him back in time "twenty-three years" to his own childhood. We know from Polixeness' description of Leontes's childhood that it was a time of pre-sexual innocence (see 1.2.9 above). It's no wonder then that Leontes would seek refuge in the memory of his innocent childhood after convincing himself that his wife has been sexually promiscuous. Here, we can imagine Leontes staring into the face of his child (Mamillius) and remembering his own childhood as a warm, safe place where everything was okay and he didn't suspect his wife of infidelity. It seems that, for Leontes, childhood is a time of innocence and adulthood is a time of inevitable sexual corruption.

Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play.

TWT - Leontes (1.2.18) Leontes says that while he plays and horses around with his young son, Hermione "plays" around on him, Leontes, with another man. By this point in the play, Leontes has convinced himself that that Hermione is cheating on him and he decides to pretend not to know about the alleged affair, for the time being. What's interesting is that Leontes's repetitious pun on the word "play" draws attention to the way he sees himself as a kind of actor who plays a "disgraced" role before an audience that boos and "hiss[es]" at him while his wife behaves in a deceitful manner. This reminds the audience that Leontes is actually a character, being played by a real actor on Shakespeare's stage.

A gross hag And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, That wilt not stay her tongue. Hang all the husbands That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself Hardly one subject.

TWT - Leontes and Antigonus; (2.3.13) Oh, look, Leontes is bashing women again. Here, he calls Paulina a "hag" for being loyal to Hermione and for refusing to pipe down when Leontes orders her to be quiet. What's interesting about this passage is the way Leontes also attacks Antigonus's masculinity. Because he can't keep his wife under control, so to speak, Leontes says he should be "hang'd." Antigonus's response isn't much better. He implies that Leontes is going to have to hang all the husbands in kingdom because all the women are so out of control in Sicily. Whatever, guys.

--what will you adventure To save this brat's life? Any thing, my lord, That my ability may undergo And nobleness impose: at least thus much: I'll pawn the little blood which I have left To save the innocent: any thing possible. It shall be possible. Swear by this sword Thou wilt perform my bidding.

TWT - Leontes and Antigonus; (2.3.7) Clearly tormented, Antigonus doesn't want to ditch baby Perdita in the wilderness and says he's willing to risk his life to avoid hurting the child. Leontes, however, bullies him into doing it anyway by threatening his life. As we know, Antigonus will lose his life while performing the deed (he's eaten by a bear), which causes Paulina to suffer the loss of a beloved husband.

You will! why, happy man be's dole! My brother, Are you so fond of your young prince as we Do seem to be of ours? If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter, Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy, My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all: He makes a July's day short as December, And with his varying childness cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood.

TWT - Leontes and Polixenes; (1.2.15) When prompted, Polixenes says that, yes, he and his wife love their son (Florizel) just as Leontes loves Mamillius. What's interesting to us about this passage is how Polixenes says his boy "cures in [him] thoughts that would thick [his] blood." Polixenes, of course, means the child makes him happy and keeps bad thoughts at bay. His use of the word "cures" also suggests that the child keeps him young and healthy. (We've seen a similar idea at 1.1.5, above.) At the same time, Polixenes also implies the kid is a bit of a handful - so much so that he makes it seem like time is flying by (a summer day seems "short as [a] December" day), which draws our attention to the fact that Polixenes is aging.

My brother, Are you so fond of your young prince as we Do seem to be of ours? If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,

TWT - Leontes and Polixenes; (2.1.16) Now, this is a weird thing for Leontes to say, don't you think? When he asks Polixenes if he loves his son as much as Leontes and Hermione love young Mamillius, it seems like Leontes is using his love for his boy as a way to compete with his friend.

How does the boy? He took good rest to-night; 'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged. To see his nobleness! Conceiving the dishonour of his mother, He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply, Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself, Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep, And downright languish'd. Leave me solely: go, See how he fares.

TWT - Leontes and Servant; (2.3.2) Did Leontes just say what we think he said? After learning that Mamillius has fallen ill, Leontes blames the condition on the "dishonour" Hermione has supposedly brought her family. But the truth is that Mamillius has fallen ill because he's been taken away from his beloved mother, who has been unfairly accused of adultery and treason.

O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating. She embraces him. She hangs about his neck: If she pertain to life let her speak too. Ay, and make't manifest where she has lived, Or how stolen from the dead.

TWT - Leontes, Polixenes, Camillo; (5.3.13) Paulina presents the statue as a work of "art" but it turns out to be the natural body of Hermione, who is very much alive and seems to have risen "from the dead" by "magic."

O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating. She embraces him. She hangs about his neck: If she pertain to life let her speak too.

TWT - Leontes, Polixenes, and Camillo; (5.3.13) When Hermione is reunited with Leontes, it seems that she has already forgiven him for his sins against her. She "embraces him" and "hangs about his neck" as though he's not the man responsible for sixteen years of suffering. What's up with that?

Her natural posture! Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she In thy not chiding, for she was as tender As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing So aged as this seems. O, not by much. So much the more our carver's excellence; Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her As she lived now.

TWT - Leontes, Polixenes, and Paulina; (5.3.3) When Leontes's observes that Hermione's "statue" looks much older than his dead wife, we're reminded that sixteen long years have passed since Leontes last saw her, the proof of which is etched on Hermione's now "wrinkled" skin. Even though Leontes is reunited with his wife (who turns out to be very much alive in the next lines), the play never lets us forget that some things (like Hermione's youthful appearance and even the dead child, Mamillius) can never be recovered. Time marches forward and can never be reversed.

Too hot, too hot! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; But not for joy; not joy.

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.11) As Leontes watches his faithful wife banter with his best friend, he suspects Hermione is having an affair with Polixenes. Because Leontes's sudden and unfounded jealousy leads to his tyrannous behavior, we could argue that Leontes's jealousy is responsible for all of the suffering that occurs in the play.

Too hot, too hot! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment May a free face put on, derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent; 't may, I grant; But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, As now they are, and making practised smiles, As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius, Art thou my boy?

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.11) Out of nowhere, Leontes turns CRAZY jealous at the sight of Polixenes and the pregnant Hermione chatting it up and touching hands. (If you've read Romeo and Juliet, you know that hands and fingertips are considered to be erotic appendages, which is why Romeo gets all excited about pressing his palms against Juliet's.) Although there's been some suggestion that Leontes and Polixenes are a bit competitive (check out "Friendship" for more on this), we don't really see this coming, especially given that Hermione is merely entertaining her husband's childhood friend and Polixenes is being nice to his pal's wife. Still, Leontes interprets their behavior as that of two secret lovers. When Leontes turns to his young son and says "Mamillius, Art thou my boy?", we know that Leontes is questioning whether or not he's the biological father of Mamillius and his unborn child. We also notice that the quality of Leontes's speech is affected by his jealousy. Notice all the pauses (marked by commas) in the middle of his lines? This gives his speech a choppy, erratic affect that mirrors his distraught emotional state. Leontes is so worked up about the imaginary affair between his wife and BFF that his speech breaks up and lacks the kind of fluidity that we've come to expect from the formerly eloquent king.

Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose? They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain: And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf Are all call'd neat.--Still virginalling Upon his palm!--How now, you wanton calf! Art thou my calf?

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.12) Now that Leontes suspects Hermione of sleeping with Polixenes, Leontes's continues to wonder if Mamillius is in fact his son, despite the fact that Mamillius looks just like a "copy" of his dad. This is a pretty strange moment - as Leontes horses around with Mamillius, he keeps one eye on his wife and friend and speaks in veiled terms about being cuckolded (cheated on). For instance, Leontes puns on the word "neat," which means "clean" (he tells Mamillius they need to be tidy) and also "cattle with horns" (Leontes's name for Mamillius is "calf"). This is all tinged with sexual meaning. Horns, as we know, are associated with cuckolds, which is exactly what Leontes believes he is.

Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have, To be full like me: yet they say we are Almost as like as eggs; women say so, That will say anything but were they false As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true To say this boy were like me.

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.13) We discuss this passage in "Jealousy" but it's worth mentioning here also. As Leontes considers whether or not Mamillius looks like him (and whether or not he's actually Mamillius's biological father), he reveals a misogynist attitude toward women. According to Leontes, women "will say anything," meaning, women are all liars. It seems that Leontes's distrust of women can partially explain why he's so quick to suspect that the lovely and ever-faithful Hermione is cheating on him. It's also important to note that Leontes's obsessive fear that Mamillius (who looks exactly like him) may not be his biological son is a pretty common theme in Renaissance literature, especially Shakespeare's writing. Because Shakespeare's world was a patrilineal society (a man's wealth and titles always passed down to his eldest son), it was important for men to have legitimate heirs. The problem, as Leontes points out throughout the first Act, is that a man has no way of knowing for certain whether or not he's a child's biological father. (Something we often forget in an age of DNA testing.) This anxiety about paternity goes a long way to explain the kind of obsessive fears of cuckoldry (being cheated on by one's wife) we see throughout The Winter's Tale and Shakespeare's larger body of work.

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.13) We weren't kidding earlier when we said that Leontes is obsessed with the idea that Mamillius may not be his son. (He also thinks Hermione is carrying Polixenes's love child, which is why he later has Perdita abandoned in the countryside.) Here, Leontes notes that a lot of women have commented that Mamillius and Leontes look alike but then he insists that most women are also liars. It seems that Leontes's view of women may play a role in his (unfounded) jealousy. If Leontes believes that most women are dishonest (socially and sexually), then it's not so surprising that he would think his wife is deceitful as well.

And many a man there is, even at this present, Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm, That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence [...] Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd, As mine, against their will. Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. [...] No barricado for a belly; know't; It will let in and out the enemy With bag and baggage: many thousand on's Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.18) Leontes's jealousy leads him to conclude that "many a man" has been cheated on by his wife, which implies that most women are promiscuous. He also uses a pretty crude metaphor to describe infidelity when he suggests that a woman's vagina is like a "gate" that can be penetrated by a military enemy (another man). When he insists there's "no barricade [defense] for a belly," he's basically saying there's no way for a man to guard his wife's womb/sexuality. All of this has the effect of turning matters of love and sex into a kind of warfare, which speaks to jealousy's destructive nature.

There have been, Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now; And many a man there is, even at this present, Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm, That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour:

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.18) Once Leontes gets it into his mind that Hermione is sleeping with Polixenes and carrying the man's love child, he insists that, historically, cheating wives are an all-too-common problem. What's interesting about this passage is Leontes's crude metaphor, which links a woman's vagina with a private "pond" that can be "fish'd" by any man with a pole.

Is whispering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career Of laughing with a sigh?--a note infallible Of breaking honesty--horsing foot on foot? Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift? Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing; The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing.

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.29) As Leontes's jealousy builds, he continues to manufacture "evidence" that Hermione and Polixenes are sleeping together. Leontes's irrational thinking is a lot like that of Othello, the Shakespeare character who kills his wife when he wrongly suspects she's having an affair. Both men have no real proof of infidelity but they are absolutely convinced that their women are disloyal. One difference between Othello and Leontes, however, is that Othello's jealousy is fed by Iago, who convinces him of his wife's "guilt." Leontes, as we know, convinces himself that his wife is unfaithful.

Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, To appoint myself in this vexation, sully The purity and whiteness of my sheets, Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps,

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.33) Leontes's insistence that he wouldn't "sully the purity and whiteness of his sheets [marriage bed]" by wrongly accusing his wife of infidelity seems to echo Shakespeare's earlier play, Othello. In the play, Othello goes on and on about how his wife, Desdemona, has been "sullied" by her sexual infidelity and decides that it would be "just" to strangle her on their soiled marriage bed (4.1.39). Both Othello and Leontes, as we've said earlier, unfairly accuse their wives of cheating.

Tongue-tied, our queen? Speak you.

TWT - Leontes; (1.2.5) Here, Leontes asks Hermione (who has been silent up to this point in the scene) to weigh in on the conversation about whether or not Polixenes will remain in Sicily. At the same time Leontes invites his wife to speak up, he seems to be also complaining that Hermione hasn't done enough to help convince Polixenes to extend his visit. We can also detect a note of sarcasm in this line. By pointing out Hermione's "tongue-tied" silence, Leontes implies that, ordinarily, Hermione (and all other women) speak too much. In the play, we see that the exact opposite is true of Hermione, who speaks with eloquence and grace, especially when she defends herself at her trial in Act 3.

[Aside] Too hot, too hot! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment May a free face put on, derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent; 't may, I grant;

TWT - Leontes; (2.1.11) Uh oh. Looks like somebody's jealous. As Leontes watches his wife entertain his best friend (which he asked her to do), Leontes suspects the pair of using the guise of friendly banter to flirt it up right in front of Leontes. Leontes is completely wrong, of course, but here we see his first suspicion that his wife is sleeping with his BFF, which you can read more about by going to "Jealousy."

Give me the boy: I am glad you did not nurse him: Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him.

TWT - Leontes; (2.1.3) When Leontes seizes Mamillius from his mother, he declares that's he's glad his son had a wet-nurse because Mamillius is already too much like his mother. Say what!? Leontes (like Shakespeare's contemporaries) believes that breast milk can transmit a nursing woman's traits and characteristics to an infant. (We're not kidding. There are even sixteenth- and seventeenth-century advice books about how to choose the best wet-nurse so your kid doesn't grow up to be a loser.) Mamillius, whose name is derived from the word "mamma" (meaning "breast" in Latin"), is closely linked with his mother and a woman's capacity to nurture children in general. (Makes sense, given that young Mamillius spends most of his time with Mama Hermione and her ladies in waiting.) Because he believes Hermione has cheated on him, Leontes can't stand the idea of Mamillius being close to his mother or similar to Hermione in any way. Check out our "Character Analysis" of Mamillius if you want to think about this some more.

A callat Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband And now baits me!

TWT - Leontes; (2.3.13) Leontes is outraged when Paulina stands up to him and insists that he acknowledge his newborn child (Perdita). In this scene, he calls Paulina a "callat" (a scold and/or a *****) and accuses her of brow-beating her husband (Antigonus). Elsewhere, Leontes calls her a "man-witch" and accuses her of hen-pecking Antigonus (2.3.10). The abuse Leontes heaps on Paulina is in keeping with an all-too-common Renaissance notion about women - those that talk "too much" are monsters that abuse their husbands and invert proper gender relations (wives were supposed to be quiet and obedient to their men). This attitude can also be seen in plays like The Taming of the Shrew, where Katherine Minola is repeatedly accused of being a scold. Compare this passage to 1.2.5 (above), where Leontes makes a similar comment about his wife.

I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth Might thus have stood begetting wonder as You, gracious couple, do: and then I lost-- All mine own folly--the society, Amity too, of your brave father, whom, Though bearing misery, I desire my life Once more to look on him.

TWT - Leontes; (5.1.12) Leontes admits that it's his fault he lost his beloved family and dear friend. Yet, despite his "misery," he also holds out hope that he'll one day see Florizel's "brave father" again.

I thought of her, Even in these looks I made.

TWT - Leontes; (5.1.22) Sixteen years later, Leontes finally recognizes his daughter. With some sadness, he notes that when he looks at a grown up Perdita, he sees a picture of his wife in his daughter's face and it transports him to the time when his wife was young and still very much alive. (He doesn't yet know Hermione is alive.) This suggests that, although parents grow old and eventually die, a part of them always lives on their children.

The blessed gods Purge all infection from our air whilst you Do climate here!

TWT - Leontes; (5.1.7) On the surface, Leontes's compliment to Florizel seems like an over the top way to express his happiness at the Prince's arrival in Sicily. Yet, there's also something poignant in Leontes's declaration that Florizel's presence in seems to "purge" the kingdom of all "infection." For the past sixteen years, a heavy cloud has hung over Leontes's kingdom. But the arrival of young Florizel and Perdita promises to heal Leontes's damaged relationships and coincides with the seeming resurrection of Hermione.

They seemed almost, with staring on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture; they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: a notable passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow; but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be.

TWT - Leontes; (5.2.2) Leontes's emotional reunion with Camillo is marked by great "sorrow" and great "joy." While the King is elated to see his old friend and advisor, the encounter between the old friends reminds us of how much has been "destroyed" and lost.

Welcome hither, As is the spring to the earth. [...] The blessed gods Purge all infection from our air whilst you Do climate here!

TWT - Leontes; (5.3.13-15) Leontes, whose been suffering in Sicily for sixteen long years, suggests that Florizel's presence is like the arrival of spring after a long, cold, harsh winter. What's more, Florizel's arrival in Sicily seems to have a healing effect on the king and his ailing court, which has yet to recover from the deaths of Hermione and Mamillius and the loss of baby Perdita.

My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name As rank as any flax-wench that puts to Before her troth-plight: say't and justify't.

TWT - Leontes; 1.2.28) When Leontes crudely calls his wife a "hobby-horse," he suggests that she's like an animal that can be mounted and ridden by men. Not only that, but he compares her, in a derogatory way, to a "flax-wench" (a low-class girl who works with flax), which suggests that Leontes believes sexual promiscuity can make a queen as lowly as a commoner. This helps to explain why Leontes feels justified in locking the queen away in prison, which further strips her of dignity.

Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince; For she did print your royal father off, Conceiving you: were I but twenty-one, Your father's image is so hit in you, His very air, that I should call you brother, As I did him, and speak of something wildly By us perform'd before.

TWT - Leontes; 5.1.11) When Leontes greets Prince Florizel, he remarks that the young prince looks like the "image" of his father. Comparing the body of Florizel's mother to a printing press machine that "print[ed] [...] off" an exact copy of her husband, Leontes implies that the resemblance between father and son is proof that Florizel's mother was faithful to her husband ("true to wedlock"). We've seen this printing metaphor before, haven't we? At 2.3.12 (above) Paulina tried to show Leontes proof that Baby Perdita was his biological daughter by pointing out that Perdita looked exactly like Leontes.

Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself: thou mettest with things dying, I with things newborn.

TWT - Old Shepherd; (3.3.6) Here, the Old Shepherd gets all "Lion King circle of life" on us. He remarks that, at the exact moment he stumbled across the abandoned baby (Perdita), his son witnessed the death of old Antigonus (who was eaten by a bear). This reminds the audience that, even though an old man (Antigonus) has died, the discovery of a newborn baby promises the renewal and continuity of life.

As she lived peerless, So her dead likeness, I do well believe, Excels whatever yet you look'd upon Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare To see the life as lively mock'd as ever Still sleep mock'd death: behold, and say 'tis well. SHE draws a curtain, and discovers HERMIONE standing like a statue I like your silence, it the more shows off Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege, Comes it not something near?

TWT - Paulina (5.3.2) Hermione's "statue" is so lifelike that when Paulina orchestrates a dramatic unveiling and draws back the curtain, her "audience" sits in stunned "silence." The statue, as promised, is a "dead likeness" of Hermione.

How fares our gracious lady? As well as one so great and so forlorn May hold together: on her frights and griefs, Which never tender lady hath born greater, She is something before her time deliver'd. A boy? A daughter, and a goodly babe, Lusty and like to live: the queen receives Much comfort in't; says 'My poor prisoner, I am innocent as you.'

TWT - Paulina and Emilia; (2.2.5) Emilia reveals that Hermione has given birth, prematurely, while in jail. Although Hermione suffers in prison, she is tender toward her newborn and finds "comfort" in her daughter.

I say, I come From your good queen. Good queen! Good queen, my lord, Good queen; I say good queen; And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you.

TWT - Paulina and Leontes; (2.3.5) Paulina is a loyal friend to Hermione and just about the only person brave enough to stand up to Leontes's tyranny. Here, she insists that if she were a man, she'd engage in knightly combat in order to prove Paulina's innocence. The interesting thing about Paulina's role in the play is that, after Leontes's repents (when he learns Mamillius is dead), Paulina becomes a trusted advisor and spiritual guide to Leontes for the next sixteen years. Paulina, then, replaces Polixenes and Camillo as Leontes's trusted confidante.

Do come with words as medicinal as true, Honest as either, to purge him of that humour That presses him from sleep.

TWT - Paulina; (2.3.5) When Paulina visits Leontes, who hasn't been sleeping well at night, she says that she's come with "medicinal" words. That is, she's come to talk some sense into Leontes before it's too late. Paulina hopes that, by showing Leontes the truth (that Hermione is faithful and Perdita is his daughter), Leontes will be cured, so to speak, of his suffering. Paulina sees herself as a kind of "physician" to the soul and she says as much a few lines later (2.3.5).

Let me be punish'd, that have minded you Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman: The love I bore your queen--lo, fool again!-- I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children; I'll not remember you of my own lord, Who is lost too: take your patience to you, And I'll say nothing.

TWT - Paulina; (3.2.5) Even after Leontes repents for causing the death of his wife and son, it seems like Paulina goes out of her way to constantly remind Leontes of what he's done. After a lord chastises her for reminding Leontes that Hermione is dead, Paulina says something like "Oh gosh! I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for being such a foolish and big-mouthed woman. I didn't mean to remind you that you basically killed your wife and both your kids." Is she serious? We don't think so. Paulina's mock apology seems like another excuse to torture Leontes by reminding him, again, that he's caused the deaths of his family members and her own husband.

But O, the noble combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declined for the loss of her husband, another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled: she lifted the princess from the earth, and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart that she might no more be in danger of losing.

TWT - Paulina; (5.2.4) Perdita's arrival in Sicily is a bitter sweet moment for Paulina. On the one hand, she's elated to see her friend Hermione's long lost daughter. On the other hand, Perdita's recovery reminds her that her own husband, Antigonus, remains lost.

It is yours; And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge, So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords, Although the print be little, the whole matter And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip, The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, His smiles,

TWT - Paulina; 2.3.12) Here, Paulina uses a printing press metaphor to describe how Perdita looks like an exact, albeit "little," "copy" of her father, Leontes. Unfortunately, Leontes refuses to acknowledge this proof of his paternity - he orders Antigonus to ditch the child in the middle of the desert.

As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy services by leaving me now: the need I have of thee thine own goodness hath made; better not to have had thee than thus to want thee: thou, having made me businesses which none without thee can sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute them thyself or take away with thee the very services thou hast done; which if I have not enough considered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit therein the heaping friendships.

TWT - Polixenes; (4.2.2) At the prospect of losing Camillo, Polixenes pleads with his friend as though his life depended on it. When Polixenes muses that he would have been "better" of without having Camillo's "service" and friendship at all, we can't help but notice that Polixenes inverts the age old adage, "it's better to have loved and lost than not have loved at all."

Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest Hermione's statue flowers o' the season Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors, Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not To get slips of them. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? For I have heard it said There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature. Say there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean: so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race: this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature. So it is.

TWT - Perdita and Polixenes; (4.4.6) Literary scholars often argue that this conversation about the merits of "gillyvors" is actually a debate about art vs. nature. When Perdita points out that she doesn't have any "gillyvors" (gillyflowers, or carnations) to offer her guests, Polixenes takes issue with her referring to the cross-bred flowers as "nature's bastards." Polixenes argues that crossbred flowers are superior to plain old carnations and that the "art" of grafting is completely "natural." ("Grafting" is a horticultural practice where a plant's tissue is fused with another plant in order to create a "hybrid.") Perdita, on the other hand, prefers flowers that are pure and that haven't been influenced by the "art" of grafting.

Your high self, The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid, Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts In every mess have folly and the feeders Digest it with a custom, I should blush To see you so attired, sworn, I think, To show myself a glass. [...] Even now I tremble To think your father, by some accident, Should pass this way as you did: O, the Fates! How would he look, to see his work so noble Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold The sternness of his presence?

TWT - Perdita; (4.4.1-2) Perdita is pretty self-conscious about being dressed up in an artificial "Queen of the Feast" costume (when she thinks she's nothing more than a lowly shepherd's daughter) and she says as much in the play. While Perdita thinks it's wrong for her to dress up as something that she's not, the audience understands that her festival costume actually speaks to her true nature or identity (the princess and future Queen of Sicily).

I see the play so lies That I must bear a part.

TWT - Perdita; (4.4.22) Here, Perdita gives in to Camillo's plan to disguise Perdita and Florizel so the young couple can escape to Sicily. When Perdita says she must play her "part" in Camillo's little scheme, she draws out attention to how Camillo is also playing the role of a stage director.

I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: 'tis a sickness denying thee any thing; a death to grant this.

TWT - Polixenes (4.2.1) Here, Polixenes begs Camillo not to leave because it makes him sick to have to "deny" his friend anything. When Camillo expresses his desire to return to his home in Sicily, we notice a couple of things. First, it seems as though Camillo has replaced Leontes as Polixenes's best pal and confidante. Second, Camillo and Polixenes have become so close that Polixenes feels as though he might die if he allows Camillo to leave him.

Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, And do not call them bastards. I'll not put The dibble in earth to set one slip of them; No more than were I painted I would wish This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age. You're very welcome.

TWT - Polixenes and Perdita; (4.4.4) In the previous passage, we saw how, for Polixenes, grafting is a "natural" process while Perdita sees cross-breeding flowers to create a hybrid as "artifice." In this passage, the debate turns into something quite personal for Perdita. She says she'd no sooner plant a cross-bred gillyflower in her garden than she would "paint" her face with make-up in order to attract a potential husband (Florizel, whose name associates him with the flowers of spring) to "breed" with. By this point in the conversation, grafting seems to have become a metaphor for family relationships. What's interesting about this is that, here, Polixenes says that grafting or cross-breeding flowers will ultimately produce a "nobler" breed, but when he later learns that his son wants to "graft" himself to (marry) a lowly shepherd's daughter, he objects. We can take the implied metaphor further by also pointing out that Perdita doesn't realize she's been "grafted" to the Old Shepherd's family (she was adopted).

Nine changes of the watery star hath been The shepherd's note since we have left our throne Without a burthen: time as long again Would be find up, my brother, with our thanks; And yet we should, for perpetuity, Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher, Yet standing in rich place, I multiply With one 'We thank you' many thousands more That go before it.

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.1) OK, Polixenes has apparently been in Sicily for nine months, which is a long time for him to be away from his family and his kingdom. More importantly, nine months is the exact amount of time it takes for a baby to gestate, so it seems like Shakespeare is alerting us to the possibility that the pregnant Hermione could, technically speaking, be carrying Polixenes's baby. (She's not.) While there's no evidence of infidelity, we know that the timing of Polixenes's visit probably plays into Leontes fears that his wife and BFF have been fooling around.

O sir, I shall be hated to report it! The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear Of the queen's speed, is gone. How! gone! Is dead. Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. HERMIONE swoons How now there! This news is mortal to the queen: look down And see what death is doing.

TWT - Servant, Leontes, and Paulina; (3.2.1) Remember when we said Hermione thought things couldn't possibly get worse for her? Here, a servant enters the courtroom with news that Mamillius has died (ostensibly from grief over the way Leontes is treating his mother). Soon after, we're told that Hermione has died of a broken heart (3.2.3) and Leontes spends the next sixteen years of his life repenting for the suffering he's caused.

We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at the other: what we changed Was innocence for innocence; we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd That any did. Had we pursued that life, And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd Hereditary ours.

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.10) Polixenes's description of his childhood friendship with Leontes is probably the most famous example of imagery in The Winter's Tale. When they played together as innocent young boys, they were like "twinn'd [identical] lambs that did frisk i' the sun," which is a very sweet way to describe the "innocence" and joy of a carefree childhood friendship between two boys. (By the way, this is also a simile, which compares one thing directly to another. As in the boys were like lambs.) What's also interesting about this passage is that Polixenes claims they would not even have been "guilty" of original sin if they had remained young and innocent, (Note: The doctrine of "original sin" is the idea that all human beings are born tainted because Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden, according to the book of Genesis.) In other words, Polixenes suggests that he and Leontes would have remained innocent if they hadn't grown up to become interested in sex ("stronger blood" means "sexual passion") and girls (like Hermione and Polixenes's wife). According to this passage, sexual relationships with women, then, mark the end of childhood and are probably the reason why Polixenes and Leontes aren't as close as they once were.

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.10) When Polixenes describes his childhood friendship with Leontes, he emphasizes their purity and innocence by suggesting that they seemed exempt from the charge of original sin (the religious doctrine that says all human beings are born tainted because Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden). In other words, Polixenes implies that he and Leontes were two innocent "lambs" until they grew up and became interested in women and sex. While Hermione finds this whole idea amusing (she laughs and jokingly says "your queen and I are devils"), Polixenes's suggestion that women are the root of man's loss of innocence echoes throughout the first three acts of the play, where Leontes unjustly punishes his wife for a sexual crime she hasn't committed. If you want to think about this some more, check out our discussion of this passage in the context of "Jealousy."

If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter, Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy, My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all: He makes a July's day short as December, And with his varying childness cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood.

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.17) When prompted, Polixenes says that, yes, he and his wife love their son (Florizel) just as much as Leontes loves Mamillius. What's interesting to us about this passage is how Polixenes says his boy "cures in [him] thoughts that would thick [his] blood." Polixenes, of course, means the child makes him happy and keeps bad thoughts at bay. His use of the word "cures" also suggests that the child keeps him healthy and young. (We've seen a similar idea at 1.1.5, above, haven't we?) At the same time, however, Polixenes also implies that his kid is also a bit of a handful - so much so that the boy makes it seem like time is flying by (a summer day seems "short as [a] December" day), which draws our attention to the fact that Polixenes is aging.

O, then my best blood turn To an infected jelly and my name Be yoked with his that did betray the Best! Turn then my freshest reputation to A savour that may strike the dullest nostril Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection That e'er was heard or read!

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.23) When Camillo alerts Polixenes to Leontes's jealousy, Polixenes denies sleeping with his best friend's wife and suggests that such a betrayal would be tantamount to Judas's "betray[al]" of Jesus (the "Best"). FYI - Judas is a biblical figure who was one of Jesus' twelve disciples. He's the guy who sold out Jesus to the Roman authorities for a bag of money (Matthew 26.14). In other words, betraying a close male friend is just about one of the worst things a guy can do. To emphasize his point, Polixenes uses the language of disease and decay - he says that if he were to betray his BFF, his blood would turn to "infected" jelly and his "freshest reputation" would be turned to a foul odor ("a savour") worse than the nastiest "infection" that man had ever seen. We see a lot of this "disease" talk elsewhere in the play, where it's used to describe how Leontes's jealousy "infects" everybody around him (1.2.22).

We were, fair queen, Two lads that thought there was no more behind But such a day to-morrow as to-day, And to be boy eternal. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at the other: what we changed Was innocence for innocence; we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd That any did. Had we pursued that life, And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd Hereditary ours.

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.9) As Polixenes describes his childhood friendship with Leontes, he suggests that they seemed to live in a world where time stood still and boyhood seemed "eternal." As an adult, however, Leontes will become acutely aware of time's progression - he'll suffer for sixteen long years before being reunited with his family.

TWT - Polixenes; (1.2.9) Polixenes describes his childhood friendship with Leontes as a kind of earthly paradise, where the two boys played and "frisk[ed]" like two innocent little "lambs" that knew nothing about the "doctrine of ill-doing" (original sin). If youth is characterized as an Edenic experience that's marked by innocence, then it seems to follow that old age is like a fall from grace. (Check out "Quotes" for "Friendship" if you want to think about this passage some more.)

Your patience this allowing, I turn my glass and give my scene such growing As you had slept between: Leontes leaving, The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving That he shuts up himself, imagine me, Gentle spectators, that I now may be In fair Bohemia, and remember well, I mentioned a son o' the king's, which Florizel I now name to you; and with speed so pace To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace Equal with wondering: what of her ensues I list not prophecy; but let Time's news Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's daughter, And what to her adheres, which follows after, Is the argument of Time. Of this allow, If ever you have spent time worse ere now; If never, yet that Time himself doth say He wishes earnestly you never may.

TWT - TIME (4.1.1) There's a lot going on in this passage (more than we can possibly cover here), but here's something we think is pretty important. Addressing the audience, Time goes out of his way to remind us that we are "spectators" watching (or reading) the progression of the "play," an activity that basically allows us to pass the time (so to speak) in a pleasant way. Time also alerts us to the fact that, while we're engaged with Shakespeare's drama, time outside the theater marches on.

I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error, Now take upon me, in the name of Time, To use my wings. Impute it not a crime To me or my swift passage, that I slide O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried Of that wide gap, since it is in my power To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour To plant and o'erwhelm custom.

TWT - TIME; 4.1.1) When "Time," a winged figure with an hourglass appears on stage at the beginning of Act 4, he announces that time has fast-forwarded "sixteen years" into the future. In this way, Time is acting the part of a Chorus (kind of like a narrator). What's interesting about this passage is that Time asks the audience not to be critical of this dramatic technique ("impute it not a crime" that the play has skipped ahead sixteen years). Flash forwards were a big no-no on the English stage in Shakespeare's day because they disregarded the "classical unities" (of time, place, and action), a set of literary rules that said all plays should have the following features: 1) the action should take place within a 24 hour time span; 2) the action should take place in one geographical place/setting; 3) the play should have one main plot and no sub-plots. The Winter's Tale pretty clearly breaks all of these rules (as did many other Shakespeare plays). Check out more of Time's big speech below...

First Lord Say no more: Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault I' the boldness of your speech. I am sorry for't: All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent. Alas! I have show'd too much The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help Should be past grief: do not receive affliction At my petition; I beseech you, rather Let me be punish'd, that have minded you Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman: The love I bore your queen--lo, fool again!-- I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children; I'll not remember you of my own lord, Who is lost too: take your patience to you, And I'll say nothing.

TWT -Leontes and Paulina; (3.2.5) Even after Leontes repents for causing the death of his wife and son, it seems like Paulina goes out of her way to constantly remind Leontes of what he's done. After a lord chastises her for reminding Leontes that Hermione is dead, Paulina says something like, "Oh gosh! I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for being such a foolish and big-mouthed woman. I didn't mean to remind you that you basically killed your wife and both your kids." Is she serious? We don't think so. We think she's being sarcastic, especially given that Leontes has made such a big deal about mouthy women throughout the first two acts of the play. What's more, Paulina's mock apology seems like another excuse to torture Leontes by reminding him, again, that he's caused the deaths of his family members. That said, we've seen some actresses play this scene straight, so one could make the case that Paulina's sincerely sorry about being such a "foolish woman." In other words, while Polixenes and Hermione are engaging in friendly banter, there's a very dark subtext to be found in their conversation.

An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand? Sir, I have not you by th' hand. Marry, but you shall have, and here's my hand.

Twelfth Night - Andrew and Maria; (1.3.62-67) Sir Andrew Aguecheek's not the brightest bulb, as Maria mocks him without Aguecheek realizing what's happening. (By taking his hand, Maria calls Andrew a "fool.") Aguecheek is also gullible when Sir Toby tricks him into challenging "Cesario" to a duel in order to win Olivia. This places Aguecheek in the same group as all the other silly characters that pursue unrealistic romantic partners.

I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' th' strangest mind i' th' world. I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether.

Twelfth Night - Andrew; (1.3.110-112) When Sir Andrew Aguecheek mentions that he enjoys "masques and revels," he reminds us that Twelfth Night not only depicts a carnival-like atmosphere, but is just the kind of play that Elizabethans would have enjoyed during the winter festival season. Note: We don't know for sure if it was written for or even performed on Twelfth Night. You can check out "What's Up with the Title?" for more on this.

What is 'pourquoi'? Do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing and bearbaiting. O, had I but followed the arts!

Twelfth Night - Andrew; (1.3.91-94) Sir Andrew Aguecheek is not serious when he claims he wishes he had spent more time studying foreign languages and less time fooling around. Like Aguecheek, the play often mocks the serious pursuit of all things serious. On the other hand, Aguecheek's excessive foolery also seems to make him the play's poster child for how not to live one's life.

That most ingrateful boy there by your side From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth Did I redeem; a wrack past hope he was. His life I gave him and did thereto add My love, without retention or restraint, All his in dedication. For his sake Did I expose myself, pure for his love, Into the danger of this adverse town;

Twelfth Night - Antonio; (5.1.75-82) The play's notion of folly is not limited to the silly antics of characters like Aguecheek and Feste. Here, Antonio mistakes "Cesario" for Sebastian and accuses "Cesario" of cruelty and dishonesty. Though we know "Cesario" is innocent, this passage reminds us that Antonio has foolishly pursued Sebastian, who does not return Antonio's love.

Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.

Twelfth Night - Captain; (1.2.65-66) Viola's high-pitched voice could potentially expose her as a woman when she disguises herself as a boy. The solution? Pretend to be a singing eunuch (a castrated man - if the genitals are removed before puberty, the voice remains high-pitched, which was pleasing to many 16th-century music lovers). What really interests us about this passage, however, is the way the sea captain plays with the idea of bodily mutilation when he says he'll be Viola's "mute" (one who is unable to "blab" if his tongue has been removed). He also implies that his eyes should be put out as punishment if he exposes Viola's secret, which is that she never has been castrated.

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.

Twelfth Night - Fabian, Sir Toby & Maria; (3.4.136-141) We love this passage for several reasons. First, Fabian acknowledges that the Malvolio prank (and just about every other plot devise in the play) is not realistic - it is an "improbable fiction." He also draws our attention to the fact that the prank actually is being "played upon a stage" for Shakespeare's audience. We can take Fabian's comments as a sly reminder that, despite the "improbable" or unrealistic events in Twelfth Night (the dramatic ship wreck, the survival and reunification of the twins, etc.), part of enjoying any play is the process of suspending disbelief and giving in to the workings of the theater. Also, you might want to compare Toby's use of the term "infection" here to the joke about plague being spread in theaters in 2.3.8 (discussed above).

Maria writ The letter at Sir Toby's great importance, In recompense whereof he hath married her.

Twelfth Night - Fabian; (5.1.385-387) Wow. This play is really interested in pairing off heterosexual couples, including Sir Toby Belch and Maria. The announcement seems to come out of nowhere, but if we think about it, it makes sense. Toby and Maria constantly engage in sexually-charged banter and Toby more than once tells us that he thinks Maria's wit and shrewdness are attractive.

I am indeed not her fool but her corrupter of words.

Twelfth Night - Feste; (3.1.37-38) Feste's assertion sums up nicely his relationship with Olivia. His job as a licensed fool not only involves entertaining the Countess, but also pointing out when Olivia's behavior or speech is silly or foolish. (Like when Olivia calls him a "fool" and Feste shows her that Olivia is the real "fool" if she continues to mourn for her brother instead of engaging with the world around her.) Also, Feste's use of the term "corruptor" recalls his association of wordplay with "wanton" women. (See 3.1.4 above.)

Maintain no words with him, good fellow. As Feste. Who, I, sir? Not I, sir! God buy you, good Sir Topas. As Sir Topas. Marry, amen. As Feste. I will, sir, I will.

Twelfth Night - Feste; (4.2.104-107) This scene can sometimes be confusing for readers because it's hard to tell from the play script that Feste switches back and forth between his own voice and the voice of "Sir Topas" during the prank on Malvolio. Feste's ability to "do voices" (like Robin Williams or Jim Carey) requires a ton of skill. Disguising one's voice is never easy but carrying on a dialogue singlehandedly requires even more artistic chops. Want more than our appreciation of this character? OK. Feste's "Sir Topas" dialogue demonstrates that spoken language is not unlike costume when it comes to disguising one's identity. How we dress, pose and speak all play a role in how other people perceive us.

I will help you to 't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit?

Twelfth Night - Feste; (4.2.119-120) When Feste asks Malvolio if he's faking his madness, we're reminded that madness is often synonymous with foolishness and folly in the play. Feste knows that Malvolio is neither insane nor pretending. In fact, Feste has just returned to Malvolio's dark prison in his disguise as "Sir Topas," the priest who conducts a mock exorcism to rid Malvolio of his supposed "demons." Still, Malvolio's ridiculous behavior and silly costume cause others (like Olivia) to think he's a "lunatic." Fun tip: Shakespeare will later return to the idea of madness as demonic possession in King Lear (c. 1603-1606) when Edgar, disguised as "Poor Tom," pretends to be a lunatic possessed by the devil.

Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in 't, and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown.

Twelfth Night - Feste; (4.2.4-6) Feste's light-hearted crack about wearing a curate's costume to trick Malvolio suggests that, like everyone else, clergymen and other moral officials can be fraudulent. The point is that putting on an official costume doesn't necessarily make one virtuous.

O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' th' morning.

Twelfth Night - Feste; (5.1.208-209) When Toby asks for "Dick" the surgeon after Sebastian bloodies his face, Feste informs him that the doctor is unavailable. In any other play, the lack of available medical help for a wounded man would be tragic. In Twelfth Night, however, the situation is comedic. In a play where just about everyone engages in outlandish behavior, even the doctor is too drunk to function.

Why, 'some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them.'

Twelfth Night - Feste; (5.1.393-394) Here, Feste mocks Malvolio, who earlier quoted these lines from Maria's forged letter. We often think of the Malvolio sub-plot as being secondary to other issues in the play. There's historical evidence, however, to support the idea that many of Shakespeare's contemporaries found Malvolio's aspirations for social domination or "greatness" (via marriage to Olivia) to be the play's most central issue. What do you think? Is Malvolio the play's central figure? History snack: In his copy of the Second Folio of Shakespeare's work, King Charles I (b.1600-1649) crossed out the title of Twelfth Night and wrote in Malvolio! as a replacement. (Note: The play was written around 1601-1602, when Elizabeth I ruled England. Still, it's cool to know that Charles read the play and thought enough about it, or himself, to change the title.)

But that's all one, our play is done, And we'll strive to please you every day.

Twelfth Night - Feste; (5.1.430-431) In the play's final moment, Feste closes the production with one last song, a reminder of the way music sets the tone for much of Twelfth Night, a play that also begins with music. This passage also raises interesting questions regarding the audience's relationship to the performers. Throughout the play, Feste is quite flippant and often seems not to care one way or the other if he "please[s]" anyone. On the one hand, his success and livelihood depends on his audiences' positive responses. Audiences, as Feste often points out, are often foolish and don't know what's good for them. So, what do we make of Feste's final lines? Are they sincere? Flippant? Something else? Some combination of both? What do you think?

'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight—' , aside That's me, I warrant you. 'One Sir Andrew.' aside I knew 'twas I, for many do call me fool.

Twelfth Night - Malvolio and Andrew; (2.5.77-82) We love this moment in the play, especially because Aguecheek is proud of the fact that he guesses correctly that Malvolio is talking about him when M refers to a "foolish knight." Aguecheek knows enough to recognize when he's being slandered but he isn't smart enough to be mad at the insult.

Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy—as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a cooling when 'tis almost an apple. 'Tis with him in standing water, between boy and man.

Twelfth Night - Malvolio; (1.5.155-158) This is one of our favorite quotes. Here, Malvolio implies that "Cesario" isn't quite ripe enough to be a "man." He compares "him" to a "squash" (an undeveloped peapod) and a "codling" (an unripe apple) in his attempt to explain away "Cesario's" androgynous good looks. Here, Malvolio attributes "Cesario's" seemingly undeveloped body to prepubescent youthfulness. History Snack: Elizabethans often lumped young boys into the same category as girls and women. In fact, boys wore dresses until "breeching" age, when they were allowed to wear breeches (pants), go to school, and talk shop with their fathers and older boys.

My masters, are you mad? Or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you make an ale-house of my lady's house, that you squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time in you?

Twelfth Night - Malvolio; (2.3.87-93) When Toby and Aguecheek get rowdy at Olivia's house, Malvolio is disgusted by their riotous behavior. By suggesting they have turned Olivia's house into an "alehouse" (a bar), and by comparing their singing to the clanging sounds of "tinkers" (tradesmen who mended household metal goods like cups and spoons), Malvolio suggests that Sir Toby and Sir Andrew are acting like unmannered commoners instead of members of the nobility. Toby is not only rude, says Malvolio, he's also breaking rules of social decorum.

To be Count Malvolio. [...] Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown, having come from a daybed, where I have left Olivia sleeping— [...] And then to have the humor of state; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place, as I would they should do theirs,

Twelfth Night - Malvolio; (2.5.34; 46-48; 51-53) Malvolio's unrealistic fantasy about marrying Olivia is not so much about erotic desire as it is about Malvolio's social aspirations. Here, he imagines himself leaving Olivia's bed, not being in it for any length of time. He also seems to get excited about the idea of wearing fancy clothes and bossing around his servants and Sir Toby. Hmm...this seems to make him just as self-absorbed as, say, Duke Orsino. For more on Malvolio's attempts at social climbing, check out "Society and Class." You know you want to.

There is example for 't. The lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

Twelfth Night - Malvolio; (2.5.38-39) We learn of Malvolio's secret social aspirations when Toby and company eavesdrop on his private thoughts. The fact that we eavesdrop right along with Toby's crew and know all about Maria's forged letter seems to implicate us, as an audience, in the elaborate prank. In this way, our knowledge places us in cahoots with the mean-spirited jest.

Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper. As I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for 't.

Twelfth Night - Malvolio; (4.2.85-88) It's somewhat ironic that the imprisoned Malvolio begs for pen and paper to write a letter to Olivia. (Remember that a forged letter is the very thing that landed Malvolio in the dark room he seeks to escape.) This seems to be in keeping with the play's notion that written words can be both dangerous and liberating.

Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too. An they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps!

Twelfth Night - Maria & Toby; (1.3.8-13) Toby's rebellious behavior and refusal to obey "the limits of order" renders him a kind of "Lord of Misrule" (a figure appointed to be in charge of festivities during holiday celebrations like Twelfth Night). Toby acts as the ring leader throughout the play, orchestrating entertainment and causing mischief (like the elaborate prank on Malvolio).

Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog!

Twelfth Night - Maria and Andrew; (2.3.139-140) Here, Maria sums up why Malvolio is so disliked by Toby and company - he acts like a "kind of puritan," a member of a religious sect in 16th-century England that was opposed to the raucous festivities of Twelfth Night and other winter festivals. Humiliating Malvolio becomes important not merely as a petty act of revenge, but also as a larger way to challenge moral authority.

What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights. Your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Twelfth Night - Maria and Toby;(1.3.1-6) We know that Toby lives each day of his life as though it is a 24/7 party. While his excessive lifestyle is in keeping with the play's festive atmosphere, his behavior also seems grotesque in light of the fact that he carries on while Olivia is in mourning. On the other hand, we could say that Toby's partying draws attention to the excessiveness of Olivia's sad demeanor, which is completely out of place in this play.

That quaffing and drinking will undo you. I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.

Twelfth Night - Maria; (1.3.14-17) Here, Maria accuses Toby of excessive "drinking" and "quaffing" (downing large amounts of liquid quickly). Critics note that Toby Belch (as his name suggests) is pretty nearly synonymous with the bodily excesses in which he indulges.

Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats. He's a very fool and a prodigal.

Twelfth Night - Maria; (1.3.23-24) Even though Sir Andrew Aguecheek is a wealthy nobleman, Maria predicts that his foolish ways and excessive spending will drain his wealth within a year. This, perhaps, is why it's so important for him to marry the wealthy heiress, Olivia.

I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love,

Twelfth Night - Maria; (2.3.154-155) Maria's plan to forge a love letter (in order to trick Malvolio into believing Olivia loves him) furthers the play's notion that "epistles of love" are not to be trusted. Maria's forged letter is not so different from Duke Orsino's messages for Olivia (which aren't necessarily forged but are contrived nonetheless).

Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown. He sees thee not.

Twelfth Night - Maria; (4.2.67-68) Maria's comment that Feste needn't have bothered wearing a physical disguise when pretending to be a priest (Sir Topas) is pretty accurate. Malvolio has been locked in a very dark room and can't see anything. The prank depends more on Feste's ability to alter his voice (think Robin Williams in Aladdin) than anything else. So, why does Feste bother donning a physical costume if it doesn't matter if he looks like a priest? There are lots of possible answers but here's our best guess. Feste's "Sir Topas" costume isn't so much for Malvolio as it is for the visual pleasure of Shakespeare's audience. Everybody likes silly disguises, right? The truth is that lots of people really enjoy watching the playful mockery of authority figures and Shakespeare gives us exactly what we want.

Go thou and seek the crowner and let him sit o' my coz, for he's in the third degree of drink: he's drowned. Go, look after him. He is but mad yet, madonna, and the Fool shall look to the madman.

Twelfth Night - Olivia and Feste; (1.5.132-136) Here, Feste points out that foolishness is a relative term when Olivia asks her "Fool" to look after the drunken and passed out Sir Toby Belch.

Take the Fool away. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Lady. [...] Good madonna, why mournest thou? Good fool, for my brother's death. I think his soul is in hell, madonna. I know his soul is in heaven, Fool. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul, being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.

Twelfth Night - Olivia and Feste; (1.5.36-37; 64-70) It's true that Feste is a professional Fool, but the play seems pretty intent on demonstrating that he is also the wisest figure in the play. Here, he deftly shows Olivia why she, not him, is irrational in her love for a dead brother.

O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted! I will give out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labeled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me?

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (1.5.243-249) After "Cesario" urges Olivia to marry Orsino and have a child (see previous discussion above), Olivia continues to make fun of the traditional conventions of love poetry, which tended to catalogue a woman's beauty by comparing each of her body parts to yummy things in nature - lips like berries, breasts like melons, eyes like stars, etc. Olivia totally mocks and disses the tradition when she describes herself as having "indifferent red lips," "two grey eyes with lids," etc. Shakespeare seems to be having a bit of fun here. He's bagging on other poets, sure, but he's also making fun of himself since he also participates in the tradition. For fun, you can go to Shmoop's discussion of Shakespeare's Sonnet 130 ("My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun") but come right back.

Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft! Unless the master were the man. How now? Even so quickly may one catch the plague?

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (1.5.297-301) Olivia seems surprised that she has fallen in love with "Cesario," who has been sent to woo her on behalf of Duke Orsino. (Remember, she has sworn off men for seven years while she mourns for her dead brother.) Here, Olivia's comparison of falling in love to catching the bubonic "plague" (a serious problem in 16th-century England) is not unlike other passages we've seen that align desire with illness and injury. (There's also a bawdy reference to venereal disease, which was rampant in Shakespeare's London.)

Methinks I feel this youth's perfections With an invisible and subtle stealth To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (1.5.302-304) Olivia's use of the term "stealth" (the action of theft, plunder, or underhanded deception) is interesting because it suggests that falling in love makes one a kind of victim. In this way, Olivia suggests that "Cesario" has robbed her of something (her heart, her well being, etc.). The audience is also aware that Viola's deceptive disguise plays an important role in Olivia's physical attraction to "Cesario's" "tongue, face, limbs," etc., which gives new meaning to the concept of "Cesario's" "stealth," or underhandedness.

What think you of this Fool, Malvolio? Doth he not mend?

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (1.5.71-72) Here, Olivia compliments Feste the Clown, whose fooling and performance seems to embody the spirit of the play and the Twelfth Night festival. (He sings, dances, tells great jokes, and entertains audiences with his wit and humor, etc.) It's significant that Olivia uses the term "mend" because she not only implies that laughter is the best medicine for a sad mood, but she also alludes to the idea that plays and sanctioned celebrations like Twelfth Night and Mardi Gras are necessary for the health of the community - they allow everyday folks to let loose, forget about their worries, and have a bit of cathartic fun.

Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, Now go with me and with this holy man Into the chantry by. There, before him And underneath that consecrated roof, Plight me the full assurance of your faith,

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (4.3.23-27) As readers we tend to focus on all the ways Viola's behavior challenges notions of gender and what it means to act "like a woman." When Olivia steps into the traditionally male role and proposes marriage to Sebastian, we're reminded of just how bold Olivia is. We might think Olivia is weak at the play's outset (when we learn that she's in seclusion over her brother's death), but by the time Olivia sets out to seduce "Cesario," we understand that Olivia is just as untraditional as Viola. Both women break out of traditional gender roles assigned to Elizabethan women (quiet, submissive, "pure," wearing a dress, etc.).

O, welcome, father. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence Here to unfold (though lately we intended To keep in darkness what occasion now Reveals before 'tis ripe) what thou dost know Hath newly passed between this youth and me.

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (5.1.158-163) Here, Olivia asks the priest to confirm her marriage to the person she believes she married. (She has married Sebastian but thinks she wed "Cesario.") What interests us here is the language Olivia uses to describe the secret wedding that wasn't supposed to be revealed until later. She speaks of the secret as though it is an "[un]ripe" fruit or vegetable that must come to light prematurely. We can't help but notice that Olivia uses the same concept of ripeness as she did back in Act 3, Scene 1, when she promised not to sleep with the too young "Cesario" because his "youth" had not yet "come to harvest" (he had not yet reached puberty). You can also compare this passage to our discussion of 1.5.7 (under the theme of "Gender"), where Malvolio compares "Cesario" to an unripe peapod.

Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the character. But out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (5.1.367-369) Malvolio is easily duped into believing Maria's forged letter was penned by Olivia. Here, Olivia's revelation that the letter is a forgery alerts us to the fact that Malvolio is a bad reader. He not only fails to recognize the writing is not Olivia's, he also reads into the letter when he interprets it to be about him, despite the fact that his name is never mentioned.

Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!

Twelfth Night - Olivia; (5.1.392) Olivia's sympathetic response to the revelation that Malvolio has been duped seems to be the only voice of compassion directed at Malvolio's folly. How do you respond to the prank on Malvolio? Do you read it as a funny situation that shouldn't be taken seriously? Or, do you respond to it as a dark, disturbing element in an otherwise light-hearted play? Something else?

If music be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (1.1.1-3) When Orsino speaks of feeding his "love" for Olivia with music in the play's famous opening lines, the Duke aligns erotic desire with a kind of gluttonous craving for food. Desire isn't something to be fulfilled or satiated in a healthy, loving way. Rather, the Duke says he must kill off his "appetite" for love by bingeing and "sickening." Yuck. This not only alerts us to Orsino's disturbing (and somewhat ridiculous) ideas about love, but also shows us how erotic desire is linked to violence and self-indulgence in Twelfth Night.

O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purged the air of pestilence. That instant was I turned into a hart, And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E'er since pursue me.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (1.1.20-24) Critics often note that this is one of the most telling speeches Orsino delivers in the play. When a servant invites the Duke to go hunting, Orsino responds with a speech about the way he felt when he first laid eyes on Olivia. Orsino plays off of Curio's invitation to hunt for "hart" (male deer) and also draws on the myth of Acteon, a hunter who was transformed into a deer when he stumbled across Diana bathing. According to the myth, Diana further punished Acteon by setting the hunter's own hounds upon him. OK, so what? Well, it's important to note that in the Duke's version of the Acteon myth, he becomes the hunted "hart" (a pun on "heart") and his desires are like the "cruel hounds" that chase him/his heart. Notice anything weird about this scenario? Basically, Duke Orsino reveals that he (or his desire) chases after himself in this bizarre little fantasy that has absolutely nothing to do with Olivia (the woman he claims to love). Olivia is pretty much an irrelevant excuse for Duke Orsino to listen to moody music and conjure up erotic fantasies about himself. What to make of this? Well, aside from the fact that Orsino is totally self-absorbed, this is good evidence that the Duke isn't so much in love with Olivia as he is in love with the idea of love.

O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame To pay this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love when the rich golden shaft Hath killed the flock of all affections else That live in her;

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (1.1.35-39) Here again, Orsino reveals a skewed vision of desire. The first thing to note is that Orsino has a hard time wrapping his brain around the idea that Olivia isn't interested in him. He is also completely dismissive of the notion that Olivia could love so intensely a (dead) brother. Of course, Orsino does recognize Olivia's capacity for "love," but he mistakenly believes that she will somehow channel all of her energy into a relationship with him. It's also interesting to note that the Duke uses another violent metaphor to describe the act of falling in love as a kind of violent piercing of the flesh (by Cupid's arrow or, "golden shaft"). Just for fun, we can also compare this passage to other moments in the play where love is associated with hunting, which can also involve the use of arrows. See 1.1.2 (discussed above) and also where Olivia compares herself to an animal, or "prey" (3.1.8).

Stand you a while aloof.—Cesario, Thou know'st no less but all. I have unclasp'd To thee the book even of my secret soul. Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (1.4.13-16) Here, we learn that Duke Orsino has shared some private thoughts about his passion for Olivia with his page, "Cesario." It's not surprising that Orsino should align his feelings of desire ("the book of his secret soul") with a text because the Duke sees himself as a kind of poet. We see him regurgitating clichés from famous books of love throughout the play and in Act 1, Scene 5, we learn that Orsino sends "Cesario" to Olivia to recite a love poem/letter before the Countess.

Dear lad, believe it; For they shall yet belie thy happy years That say thou art a man. Diana's lip Is not more smooth and rubious, thy small pipe Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound, And all is semblative a woman's part.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (1.4.32-37) Orsino's sensual description of "Cesario's" mouth ("lip") throat ("small pipe"), and voice ("maiden's organ") is made even more provocative because the Duke describes a very attractive and androgynous boy actor, who is playing the role of a young woman, who is cross-dressed as a boy. The passage is also an erotic description of the anatomical features of female genitalia. In a famous book called Shakespearean Negotiations, Stephen Greenblatt points to this passage as evidence that "Orsino nicely captures the gender confusion in an unintentionally ironic description of his young page." In other words, Orsino isn't exactly aware of it, but his description reveals that "Cesario's" sex appeal is a combination of both masculine and feminine characteristics. The point? Androgyny is attractive.

There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (2.4.103-106) Throughout the play, Duke Orsino makes several contradictory speeches about the way women love. Here, he claims that women are incapable of "passion." In fact, he implies that women are physically incapable of love - their bodies are too weak to sustain the "beating" of a heart and they are also too small to contain big love. Critic Gail Kern Paster (the queen of Shakespeare and bodily functions) has shown that women were thought of as "leaky vessels" in the 16th century. (You'll know what that means in a second.) Here, Orsino's use of the term "retention" not only implies that Olivia is incontinent (can't control her bladder) but also suggests that she can't hold or "retain" any passionate feeling because it would seep or spill out of her, like urine. TMI? Sorry. Shakespeare wrote it, not us.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. For women are as roses, whose fair flower, Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (2.4.42-45) Here, he tells "Cesario" to marry a young woman, because a woman's beauty (like a flower) fades just as quickly as a husband's sexual desire for his wife (especially once he's "deflowered" or, slept with her).

One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons! A natural perspective, that is and is not!

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (5.1.226-227) It's easy to forget that Shakespeare's play is named after a religious holiday, but in this passage - Duke Orsino's response to the moment just before Viola reveals her identity - we are reminded that Twelfth Night, or the Feast of the Epiphany, celebrates the birth and "revelation" of the Christ child. Critics often point to the connection between the play's many unveilings (Olivia's removal of her mourning veil, Malvolio's realization of the truth about the forged letter, the twins' discovery that their siblings are alive, and Viola's revelation that "Cesario" is a woman) echo revelations.

Be not amazed; right noble is his blood. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wrack.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (5.1.276-278) It's not entirely clear why Duke Orsino says this to Olivia after the Countess learns that she has married Sebastian and not "Cesario." It seems that Orsino's just as concerned with marriages between social equals as Toby Belch. (See our discussion of 1.3.21 above.) Is Orsino saying that Olivia shouldn't feel bad about marrying the wrong person because Sebastian is a member of the nobility, like her? Is a marriage among social equals really so important to the Duke? And why does Orsino immediately follow the assertion by saying "if this be true" he's going to marry Viola? Does this suggest that the only thing holding back Orsino from hooking up with "Cesario" was "Cesario's" status as a servant? Lots of questions and lots of possible answers. Have at it.

You can fool no more money out of me at this throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further. (5.1.37-40)

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (5.1.37-40) As a professional Fool, Feste's duties lie in his talents as licensed entertainer (comedian, musician, master of language and repartee, etc.). Here, he also seems to be a bit of a con man, as he is pretty skilled at getting people to loosen their purse-strings - kind of like some playwrights we know who were also very skilled at getting audiences to pay for entertainment.

You can fool no more money out of me at this throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (5.1.37-40) Feste is quite good at getting people to empty their pockets. Here, he's appreciated for his comedic and linguistic chops but he is also treated like an errand boy who might get a nice tip if he fetches Olivia. It's hard for us to imagine that someone like, say, the brilliant Will Ferrell would be forced to run errands for chump change, but that's exactly what happens in this play. Some critics suggest that passages like this one self-consciously point to the way entertainers and performers (like Shakespeare and his colleagues) were regarded as mere servants or worse. (Note: In the movie Shakespeare in Love, the scene where Lord Wessex nearly runs down a group of performers with his horse perfectly captures this attitude.)

Cesario, come, For so you shall be while you are a man. But when in other habits you are seen, Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

Twelfth Night - Orsino; (5.1.408-411) It's pretty striking that Duke Orsino calls Viola "Cesario," even after they are engaged and Viola's identity is revealed. Clearly, the Duke is not quite used to the idea that his "boy" is actually a girl. This passage also raises the question of whether or not Orsino is attracted to "Cesario" or "Viola" or both.

But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in. Therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must know of me, then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo.

Twelfth Night - Sebastian; (2.1.11-16) Here, we learn that Sebastian has kept his name and personal background hidden from his new friend, Antonio. It's not exactly clear why Sebastian would lie to the man who saved his life by calling himself "Roderigo." Sebastian's language in this passage suggests that he thinks of his identity as a very personal and intimate secret that is to be guarded and protected from those who would "extort" it from him. But why? Is it a defense mechanism that allows Sebastian to keep his fears about his lost twin a secret? Something else? What do you think?

This is the air; that is the glorious sun. This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't and see 't. And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then? I could not find him at the Elephant. Yet there he was; and there I found this credit, That he did range the town to seek me out. His counsel now might do me golden service.

Twelfth Night - Sebastian; (4.3.1-8) We've seen how deeply devoted Antonio is to Sebastian. Here, however, it's pretty clear that Sebastian doesn't feel as strongly about Antonio. (Prior to this scene, Sebastian tries to ditch Antonio before travelling to Illyria and then jumps at the chance to hook up with Olivia.) Here, as Sebastian muses about the strangeness of Olivia's love for him, Antonio is quite literally an afterthought. Sebastian's question, "Where's Antonio, then?" seems to be pinned on at the very end of a lengthy thought about Olivia and merits only half a line. What's worse, Sebastian only wonders where Antonio is (the poor guy was arrested back in Act 3, Scene 4) because he wants someone to give him some advice about his new girlfriend. Ouch.

She'll none o' the Count. She'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit. I have heard her swear 't. Tut, there's life in 't, man.

Twelfth Night - Sir Andrew; (1.3.107-109) Sir Toby is preoccupied with marrying his frenemy, Sir Andrew Aguecheek, to his kinsman, Olivia. To encourage his pal, Toby insists that Olivia will not "match" (marry) above her "degree," which means her social rank ("estate"), her age ("years"), and her general intelligence ("wit"). In other words, Toby says Olivia won't marry the Duke, who is higher ranking, older, and smarter than Olivia. (We know better - Olivia's just not into him.) History Snack: These comments echo a common Elizabethan idea that nuptials among "equals" made for happier marriages. In 1568 Edward Tilney, one of Queen Elizabeth's courtiers, wrote a famous book called The Flower of Friendship. Check out this excerpt from Tilney's book on marriage - it sounds a lot like what Sir Toby says about Olivia: "equality is principally to be considered in [...] matrimonial amity [friendship], as well as years, as are the gifts of nature, and fortune. For equalness herein, makes friendliness." Of course, even though Toby Belch argues for Olivia to marry a social "equal," he's clearly not at all concerned with his niece's happiness. Toby wants Aguecheek to marry Olivia for selfish reasons. Our theory? If Aguecheek marries Olivia, he'll control Olivia's wealth. Since Aguecheek pretty much does whatever Toby says, Toby would be able to access and to some degree, control Olivia's fortune through Aguecheek. Olivia's situation as an unmarried heiress with a dead father places her in a situation that's similar to that of Portia in The Merchant of Venice. Portia and Olivia are both powerful women with a lot of money and no husband to tell them what to do - until Shakespeare marries them off, that is.

Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to the count's servingman than ever she bestowed upon me. I saw 't i' th' orchard.

Twelfth Night - Sir Andrew; (3.2.4-6) Sir Andrew is clearly annoyed that Olivia isn't interested in marrying him. Here, it also seems that Olivia's apparent desire for a mere "serving-man" ("Cesario") is also something that rubs Andrew the wrong way. This may partially explain why Andrew's so easily convinced to challenge "Cesario" to a duel.

Go, Sir Andrew. Scout me for him at the corner the orchard like a bum-baily. So soon as ever thou seest him, draw, and as thou draw'st, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away!

Twelfth Night - Sir Toby Belch; (3.4.184-190) When Toby tricks Sir Andrew into picking a fight with "Cesario" to impress Olivia, he gives voice to the notion that "manhood" is synonymous with "swaggering" and fighting. (It's so not. Keep reading.)

I would exult, man. You know, he brought me out o' favor with my lady about a bearbaiting here. To anger him, we'll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew?

Twelfth Night - Sir Toby and Fabian; (2.5.6-10) Here, Fabian and Toby discuss the elaborate and cruel prank they play on Malvolio. Toby compares the prank to a bear-baiting contest that promises to injure Malvolio, or make him "black and blue." (Bear-baiting is a cruel Elizabethan blood-sport that involves chaining a bear to an object before setting a pack of dogs upon it. It was a very popular form of "entertainment" that was held in the same districts as Shakespeare's plays. Both were associated with crude, lower-class patrons and critics of the theater often lumped the two activities together under one shameful umbrella.) OK. So what? Well, Toby's right to compare the prank on Malvolio to a bear-baiting contest. Malvolio escapes without serious physical injury, but the joke, as Olivia points out in Act 5, is incredibly cruel - so much so that it casts a bit of a dark shadow over the "happy ending" of the play. On the other hand, there's also a sense of justice at work here since the judgmental Malvolio criticizes all forms of entertainment - bear-baiting, theatrical performances, revels, etc. The fact that the prank turns Malvolio into an unknowing participant in spectacle and foolery that is not unlike the theater (remember, Malvolio is tricked into wearing a costume and playing the "role" of suitor to Olivia) and is part of what makes the joke so fitting and delicious.

Most sweet lady— A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your text? In Orsino's bosom. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to say?

Twelfth Night - Viola & Olivia; (1.5.221-228) This passage picks up and develops the idea that one's passionate feelings are like a "book." (Compare this to 1.4.2 above.) When "Cesario" tries again to recite Orsino's message to Olivia, the Countess calls him out and says she's "read it" all before. This not only reveals that Olivia really has read Orsino's love musings before, but it also suggests that Orsino's lines are unoriginal and can be found in just about every book of love poetry there is.

A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. A contagious breath. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the night owl in a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that?

Twelfth Night - Sir Toby and Sir Andrew; (2.3.54-60) When Toby and Aguecheek say Feste's voice is "contagious," they mean it as a compliment because Feste's voice and his song are "catchy." ("Catch" also means "song.") We notice that Sir Andrew and Sir Toby Belch repeat some form of the word "contagious" three times in their response to Feste's performance of a song. What's up with that? To answer, we think it's time for a little history snack. There's a bit of an inside joke at work here. In 16th century England, the bubonic plague was a bit of a problem, it being so contagious and deadly and all. Critics of the theater and other forms of public entertainment where large groups of people gathered in tight quarters worried about the spread of disease. Elizabethans thought the plague was contracted by breathing in strong odors. (We can imagine what a crowded playhouse smelled like - it being inhabited by those with questionable hygiene routines and no access to deodorant.) The plague was such a problem in Elizabethan England that theaters were often closed down during periods when the plague's death count got too high. Feste, a professional performer, is aligned with and somewhat representative of theatrical entertainment in the play. So, it's pretty funny that he's associated with the plague in this passage. The big joke, of course, is that if Feste was sick with the plague, then his "breath" and singing really would be contagious.

O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary! When did I see thee so put down?

Twelfth Night - Sir Toby; (1.3.80-81) When Toby teases Sir Andrew Aguecheek for allowing Maria to bag on him and make him look silly, he emphasizes the way Maria too is aligned with the play's festive atmosphere (despite her half-hearted attempts to control Toby's behavior). Not only does Maria fool around with Toby and the guys when she's supposed to be keeping Olivia happy, she's also an unruly figure because she's a woman who talks back to men. As the mastermind behind the prank on Malvolio (Maria's the one who forges the letter), Maria is placed in direct opposition to Puritanical figures like Malvolio.

Thou 'rt i' th' right.—Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs.—A stoup of wine, Maria!

Twelfth Night - Sir Toby; (2.3.118-119) When Malvolio chides Sir Toby and crew for their bad behavior, Toby tells him to "go rub" his steward's "chain" of office (a chain worn to symbolize Malvolio's status as head servant, or "steward"). Here, Toby conveys that Malvolio has no right to scold his social betters. The dismissal is especially demeaning, as it suggests that Malvolio should go "rub" off.

Out o' tune, sir? You lie. Art any more than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

Twelfth Night - Sir Toby; 2.3.13-15) Here, Toby upbraids Malvolio for having the audacity to criticize his social betters. Malvolio, after all, is Olivia's "steward," not a member of the upper class. Toby refers to "cakes and ale," popular treats served during Twelfth Night festivities. (As every kid in Louisiana knows, "king cakes" are also popular during Mardi Gras.)

Come, come, I'll go burn some sack. 'Tis too late to go to bed now:. Come, knight; come, knight.

Twelfth Night - Toby; (2.3.188-189) Sir Toby and Sir Andrew always manage to find an excuse to stay up all hours drinking "sack" (ale). (In fact, they go to dramatic lengths to convince themselves that being awake at, say, two o'clock in the morning is just as healthy as waking up early.) Their determination to never let the party end, however, reminds us that Twelfth Night marks the end of the Christmas celebrations. Like all good things, even a spirited party season must come to an end and order must be restored. Yet, Shakespeare also seems a bit reluctant to return to the status quo. At the end of the play, he appears to restore social order (identities are revealed and heterosexual partners are paired up). He does, however, leave Viola in her "Cesario" disguise, which suggests that Shakespeare, like Toby and Andrew, doesn't really want to call it a night either.

So please my lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handmaid do return this answer: The element itself, till seven years' heat, Shall not behold her face at ample view, But like a cloistress she will veilèd walk, And water once a day her chamber round With eye-offending brine—all this to season A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh And lasting in her sad remembrance.

Twelfth Night - Valentine; (1.1.26-34) Valentine's message for Duke Orsino (that Olivia has sworn off the company of men to mourn for seven years) is somewhat comedic. Here, Valentine says that Olivia's salty tears are a kind of "brine" that will preserve her dead brother's memory. This suggests that Olivia's dead brother is, well, like a pickle (a cucumber preserved through the process of brining). Yuck! Olivia's situation is sad, sure, but Shakespeare also pokes fun of Olivia when he compares her to a pickle-maker - the implication being that Olivia should find a better use of her time. Like falling in love with a living person.

Nay, that's certain. They that dally nicely with words may quickly make them wanton. I would therefore my sister had had no name, sir. Why, man? Why, sir, her name's a word, and to dally with that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.

Twelfth Night - Viola & Feste; 3.1.14-22) Here, Feste demonstrates perfectly how words can be rebelliously twisted and turned inside out (compare to 3.1.3 above). The clown picks up on Viola's use of the term "dally nicely" (play subtly) and makes a joke about a "wanton" woman (a woman who "dallies" or sleeps with a lot of men). OK, so what? Well, we could argue that Feste implies that language and wordplay can be dangerous or seedy, like a "wanton" or "disgraced" woman. Or, we could argue that Feste's wordplay suggests that screwing around with words (Shakespeare's job as a professional playwright and poet) is just as entertaining as literally screwing around. An even better answer? The passage holds both meanings simultaneously.

Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical. It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you, keep it in.

Twelfth Night - Viola & Olivia; (1.5.192-195) Olivia quickly shoots down "Cesario's" attempts to recite Orsino's love musings, but why? Viola is certainly impressed by the Duke's passion so why doesn't Olivia think Orsino's great? The obvious answer is that Olivia's just not attracted to the Duke. But, here, we also see that Olivia thinks that carefully written or studied poetry is fake and insincere.

And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance he is not drowned.—What think you, sailors?

Twelfth Night - Viola (Cesario); (1.2.3-6) Twelfth Night is full of literary references, including allusions to Shakespeare's own dramatic works. For example, the play's shipwreck plot involving the separation of twins echoes the plot of Shakespeare's earlier play, The Comedy of Errors, in which the identical Antipholus brothers are separated at sea and eventually reunited. This idea, however, was borrowed from other writers like Plautus. Does this mean you can't understand or enjoy Twelfth Night if you haven't read all this other stuff? No way - you can totally master the play without being a Plautus expert. It's just good to keep in mind that Shakespeare is working within, borrowing from, and constantly revising a pretty rich literary tradition.

I prithee—and I'll pay thee bounteously— Conceal me what I am, and be my aid For such disguise as haply shall become The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke. Thou shall present me as an eunuch to him. It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing And speak to him in many sorts of music That will allow me very worth his service.

Twelfth Night - Viola (Cesario); (1.2.55-62) Viola's disguise draws our attention to the circumstances of Shakespeare's transvestite stage. "Viola's" role was played by a boy actor, cross-dressed as a young woman, who disguises herself as a boy, "Cesario." We can never know how each member of Shakespeare's audience responded to this, but we can certainly think about how we interpret this transvestite comedy, which challenges us to rethink our ideas about what it means to be "feminine" or "masculine."

I'll do my best To woo your lady: Aside. Yet a barful strife! Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.

Twelfth Night - Viola (Cesario); (1.4.44-46) For first-time readers or play-goers, Viola's sudden announcement that she's smitten with Duke Orsino may come as a shock. (We know we were surprised by this the first time we read Twelfth Night.) How could Viola fall for Orsino so quickly when she's only been working for him for three days? Also, what does Viola see in this guy anyway? After all, Orsino comes off as a moody, self-centered guy who lounges around and spouts off about deer hunting metaphors and flowers all day. It's easy to dismiss the question by saying that Viola's love for Orsino is totally unrealistic but is nevertheless important to the plot. But we think we can do much better than this. Does Viola fall for Orsino because he's a kind of passionate poet? Does this make her just as silly and foolish as Orsino, Olivia, and Malvolio? Viola's a sharp girl. Does the play seem to suggest that love and desire transform even the brightest and shrewdest people into sappy fools? What do you think?

Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, For such as we are made of, such we be.

Twelfth Night - Viola (Cesario); (2.2.31-32) Here, Viola blames Olivia's desire for "Cesario" on women's "frailty." The idea is that women are emotionally and morally "frail" because their soft bodies (what they "are made of") are also "frail." We don't know about you, but this doesn't seem to square with the play's women characters. Saucy Maria, who comes up with the genius plan to trick Malvolio certainly isn't "frail." Neither is Olivia, who sees what she wants and goes after it. As for Viola, she's sharp, witty, and resourceful.

This fellow is wise enough to play the Fool, And to do that well craves a kind of wit. He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice As full of labor as a wise man's art: For folly that he wisely shows is fit; But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

Twelfth Night - Viola (Cesario); (3.1.61-69) Here, Viola gives Feste (and Professional Fools everywhere) props for his artistic virtuosity. Despite being called "fool," Feste is a highly skilled performer, comedian, and musician with an incredible command of language and a shrewd mind. In fact, most critics say that Feste is the only "wise" person in the entire play, especially since he has a knack for sizing up the other characters and exposing the folly of their actions.

O, that I served that lady And might not be delivered to the world Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, What my estate is.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (1.2.43-46) This passage reminds us that it's not just her gender that Viola hides when she cross-dresses as "Cesario." She also disguises her "estate" (meaning her "general condition" and also her "social rank"). Viola's assumed identity as "Cesario," then, suggests that both gender and class are not stable identities. Rather, they can be performed, disguised, and impersonated by just about anyone.

Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (1.5.240-242) When "Cesario" accuses Olivia of being "cruel" if she refuses to marry and have a child that looks like his/her mother (a "copy" of Olivia), "Cesario" suggests that Olivia is a kind of book that can be copied or reprinted. As we've seen, this idea that people are like texts is all over Twelfth Night. Such printing/reproduction metaphors are pretty common in other 16th-century literature. (Makes sense - the printing press was pretty new and the greatest thing since sliced bread.) In fact, Shakespeare uses the same idea in his book of Sonnets. In sonnets 1-17, Shakespeare argues that the world will be a better place if his young male friend would marry and have a child. It's fun to compare "Cesario's" lines to the excerpt below: She [your mother] carv'd thee for her seal, and meant thereby, Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die. (From Sonnet # 17)

Make me a willow cabin at your gate And call upon my soul within the house, Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night, Halloo your name to the reverberate hills And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out 'Olivia!' O, You should not rest Between the elements of air and earth But you should pity me.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (1.5.271-279) Here, "Cesario" breaks away from reciting Orsino's poem/letter and explains how "he" ("Cesario") would go about winning Olivia's heart in an impassioned and spontaneous speech. This poetic passage is famous for being cited by critics as evidence that Olivia falls in love with "Cesario" because "he" is able to compose poetry off the cuff, which Olivia thinks is more sincere than carefully planned verse. Of course, every reader knows that "Cesario's" speech is actually a very carefully penned passage (by Shakespeare).

Too well what love women to men may owe. In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter loved a man As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (2.4.116-120) OK, now this is more like it. Here, Viola defends the ladies to Orsino's claim that women are incapable of love and depth of feeling. We also like the crafty way Viola reveals her love to the Duke without him knowing that 1) she's in love with him and 2) she's her "father's daughter." Clever girl. Seems like women are capable of "retention" after all (see discussion of 2.4.16 above).

A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like Patience on a monument

Twelfth Night - Viola; (2.4.122-126) In this passage "Cesario" speaks to Duke Orsino of "his" "father's daughter" (Viola), who kept her love a secret. "Cesario's" language is interesting here, as "he" suggests that secrets can eat away at, or "feed on," the person who keeps them hidden. The simile (a secret is like a worm eating a flower bud) also resonates with the play's portrayal of the relationship between love and food and love and disease or injury. Check out our thoughts on the theme of "Love" if you want to make some comparisons.

By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (3.1.165-168) "Cesario's" insistence on singularity - "he" has "one heart, one bosom and one truth" ("he's" in love with and devoted to Orsino only) is striking in this passage, especially given the fact that "Cesario's" cryptic words hold double meaning. This, of course, also draws out attention to the doubleness of Viola's disguised identity.

Pray God defend me! Aside. A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

Twelfth Night - Viola; (3.4.314-316) When "Cesario" (Viola in disguise) prays that she doesn't get pummeled in the duel with Sir Andrew, she makes a joke about what she "lack[s]." Read alone, this passage would seem to suggest that being born with a penis somehow predisposes one to picking and winning a fight. However, given the fact that Sir Andrew was born with a penis and is a total coward, it seems that the play is pointing out that one's sex doesn't necessarily determine whether or not someone will be brave.

There is a fair behavior in thee, captain, And though that nature with a beauteous wall Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe thou hast a mind that suits With this thy fair and outward character.

Twelfth Night - Viola; 1.2.50-54) As Viola determines to disguise her identity by cross-dressing as a boy servant ("Cesario"), she considers the sea captain's trustworthiness. This passage is interesting for the way Viola describes the way some people can seem "fair" in their outward behavior and demeanor while concealing, like a "beauteous wall," an inner nature that may be "pollut[ed]." Viola's speech sets the tone for a play intent on thinking about whether or not what's outside matches what's on the inside.

You do impeach your modesty too much To leave the city and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not, To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place With the rich worth of your virginity.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Demetrius; (2.1.221-226) Once again, we see love causing characters to act foolishly.

How happy some o'er other some can be! Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so. He will not know what all but he do know. And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes, So I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste. Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Helena; (1.1.232-243) When Helena admits that she loves many of Demetrius's "base and vile" qualities, she recognizes that her love has made her "blind" in that her judgment has been skewed by her passion. This idea resurfaces throughout the play, especially when Titania literally falls in love with a "base and vile" creature—an "ass." We also want to point out that Helena is acting a little immature here when she complains that most people think she's prettier than Hermia. Apparently, love also makes us self-absorbed.

He will not know what all but he do know. And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes, So I, admiring of his qualities. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Helena; (1.1.235-241) Here, Helena admits that she loves many of Demetrius's "base and vile" qualities. It seems that love has the capacity to blind us (figuratively speaking) to the truth. This idea comes up again when Titania literally falls in love with Bottom—a "base and vile" creature.

But herein mean I to enrich my pain, To have his sight thither and back again.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Helena; (1.1.256-257) Helena wants to see Demetrius, even if it is only to have him scorn her. In love, Helena shows complete foolishness and lack of judgment regarding whom she gives her affection to.

Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex. We cannot fight for love, as men may do. We should be wooed and were not made to woo.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Helena; (2.1.245-249) Here, Helena points out that, even though it's not socially acceptable for women to be aggressive in the pursuit of love, she doesn't care. On the one hand, Helena acts like a creepy stalker when she chases Demetrius around after the guy's made it perfectly clear that he's not in love with her. On the other hand, Helena's point about double standards raises an interesting question: Why is it OK for men to "fight for love" when women are expected to be passive? Remember, Theseus literally won Hippolyta with his "sword" when he conquered her people (see quote #2).

Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Sweet love? Thy love! Out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathèd med'cine! O hated potion, hence!

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Hermia & Lysander; (3.2.172-175) In this play, female characters have a harder time accepting the transformation of their loved ones. Here Hermia refuses to believe Lysander does not lover her, and earlier Helena had difficulty comprehending Demetrius's change of affections.

By all the vows that ever men have broke (In number more than ever women spoke), In that same place thou hast appointed me, To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Hermia; (1.1.178-181) Shakespeare pokes a bit of fun here at love—men break vows faster than women can make them. Not only does Hermia know this, she chooses to swear on it. For Shakespeare, one thing that you can depend on in love is the foolishness it brings.

Before the time I did Lysander see Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me. O, then, what graces in my love do dwell That he hath turned a heaven unto a hell!

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Hermia; (1.1.209-212) It's clear from Hermia's ranting that love also has the capacity to change the way we view our surroundings. According to Hermia, her love for Lysander has transformed her own home into a nightmare world.

Help me, Lysander, help me; do thy best To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast. Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here! Lysander, look how I do quake with fear. Methought a serpent eat my heart away, And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Hermia; (2.2.152-157) Hermia's dream is a mirror for reality; while Hermia sleeps, Lysander deserts her and renounces his love for her. In the dream, Hermia is abandoned (which is true), but she is also betrayed by Lysander. The dream is also a reflection for what's about to come. Hermia battles the snake (Helena) in the dream and in the actual wood, though Lysander is really at fault for letting Hermia get hurt, both in the dream world and in reality.

"Puppet!" why so? Ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare Between our statures; she hath urg'd her height, And with her personage, her tall personage, Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him. And are you grown so high in his esteem Because I am so dwarfish and so low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak! How low am I? I am not yet so low But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Hermia; (3.2.304-313) Hermia believes Lysander has fallen out of love with her simply because she is short. Here we see the folly of the female characters' behavior—without the excuse of enchantment that the males can claim.

But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured so together, More witnesseth than fancy's images And grows to something of great constancy, But howsoever strange and admirable.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Hippolyta; (5.1.24-28) Hippolyta touches on an interesting element of reality: The more a story is repeated and confirmed from multiple sources, the more true it seems, no matter how wondrous it is. On one hand, it is about the power of numbers, but on the other, it's the same justification for the belief that the Emperor is wearing new clothes. If anything, her statement is proof that no version of reality is more real than another.

Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! Vile thing, let loose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent. Why are you grown so rude? What change is this, Sweet love? Thy love? Out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathèd med'cine! O. hated potion, hence!

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Lysander & Hermia; (3.2.270-275) After Lysander has been drugged by Oberon's love juice, he falls instantly in love with Helena and violently out of love with Hermia. What's interesting is that, when characters fall out of love in this play, their love turns into hate rather than indifference. What's up with that?

Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head, Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena, And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes, Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry, Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Lysander; (1.1.108-112) Hmm. This is interesting. Here, we learn that Demetrius was once engaged ("made love to") to another girl, Helena, before dropping her to be with Hermia. Long before the fairies' love juice causes Demetrius to fall back in love with Helena (2.2; 3.2), we learn that lovers can be fickle and erratic, even without the help of some magic potion.

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say "Behold!" The jaws of darkness do devour it up. So quick bright things come to confusion.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Lysander; (1.1.143-151) Here, Lysander lists the obstacles that can separate lovers: "war, death, or sickness." Lysander also knows that, even though love can be explosive like "lightening," it's usually short-lived: "So quick bright things come to confusion." P.S. The idea that love is transient, by the way, is a major theme in Romeo and Juliet, where Friar Laurence says the following about Romeo's passion: "These violent delights have violent ends" (2.6.1).

You have her father's love, Demetrius. Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Lysander; (1.1.95-96) Lysander makes a pretty good point here—Egeus and Demetrius get along far better than Demetrius and Hermia. In fact, Hermia has been left out of the marriage negotiations altogether. The contract has been put together by two men.

Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence. I have forsworn his bed and company. Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord? Then I must be thy lady. But I know When thou hast stolen away from fairy land, And in the shape of Corin sat all day

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon & Titania; (2.1.62-68) King Oberon and Queen Titania's tumultuous relationship is often described as the ultimate "battle of the sexes." Like Kate and Petruchio in Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, the fairy King and Queen are constantly at each other's throats. Their feud over Titania's foster child (Oberon wants him to be his private page but Titania won't give him up) is so fierce that it throws nature into disarray and causes the worst weather imaginable.

My Oberon, what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamoured of an ass. There lies your love. How came these things to pass? O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon & Titania; 4.1.77-81) When Titania awakens from the love spell, she has a classic "What was I thinking?" moment. Not only does she realize that she was literally in love with an "ass" (Shakespeare's little joke), she also admits that she can no longer stand the sight of the creature of which she was once "enamour'd." Some things never change.

That very time I saw (but thou couldst not) Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid, all arm'd; a certain aim he took At a fair vestal, throned by the west, And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts. But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon, And the imperial vot'ress passèd on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it "love-in-idleness." Fetch me that flow'r, the herb I showed thee once. The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (2.1.1561-178) Oberon explains why the pansy has a magical quality. His explanation reveals magic's complexity, and how many strange factors magic relies on, especially the natural world. Cupid's arrows, aimed at a royal virgin, were misdirected by the beams of the moon, as the moon is personified by Diana, the virgin goddess. As a result, Cupid's arrow hits the pansy, which becomes magic. Shakespeare thus reveals that magic is not just some cheap tool that can easily explain away holes in a plot—it is actually the intersection between the mythic and natural worlds.

Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once. The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (2.1.175-178) As Oberon explains here, when the magic love juice is sprinkled into someone's eyes, it causes the person to fall instantly in love with the first creature he or she sees. Hmm. This seems to be symbolic of "love at first sight," don't you think? Go to "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory" for more on this. Oberon tells us that, when the magic love "juice" is sprinkled into someone's eyes, it causes the person to fall instantly in love with the first creature he or she sees. Shakespeare seems to have borrowed this concept from Book 14 of Ovid's Metamorphoses, where Circe uses a magic potion to transform men into beasts.

seek through this grove. A sweet Athenian lady is in love With a disdainful youth; anoint his eyes, But do it when the next thing he espies May be the lady. Thou shalt know the man By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with some care, that he may prove More fond on her than she upon her love.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (2.1.267-274) At first, it seems Oberon means to do good with his magic, but it turns out there is a streak of mischief in him after all. He wishes Demetrius to fall in love with Helena, but he wants Demetrius to be so in love with Helena that she will get annoyed. This raises the question of whether magic always has to be a little devious. Magic does not come from the natural world, so it makes sense that it plays out in a slightly twisted (or unnatural) way.

Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye, Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, To take from thence all error with his might And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision. And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, With league whose date till death shall never end.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (3.2.387-394) Oberon posits that this night's crazy events will seem like a dream tomorrow, which will hopefully cause the four Athenian lovers to forget everything and go back to Athens as proper pairs. The Athenians are thus able to choose their own version of reality - they can consider the night either real or a dream.

But we are spirits of another sort. I with the Morning's love have oft made sport And, like a forester, the groves may tread Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red, Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. But, notwithstanding, haste, make no delay. We may effect this business yet ere day.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (3.2.410-417) Oberon points out that the fairies are not dark spirits cursed to stay out of daylight. He and the fairies wander freely morning, noon, and night. These habits contrast with those of Puck, who is always trying to get out of morning's way. By pointing out that fairies can be out during the day, Oberon casts suspicion on Puck's nocturnal limitation. Puck, like the graveyard ghosts, seems to have some element in his magic that's more sinister than that of the others.

And, gentle Puck, take this transformèd scalp From off the head of this Athenian swain, That he awaking when the other do May all to Athens back again repair And think no more of this night's accidents But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But first I will release the Fairy Queen.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (4.1.65-71) Oberon again hints that, if all of the young Athenians think of the past night as a dream, everything will be forgotten. This way, not only do the lovers have some easy resolution, but Puck and Oberon are absolved of any blame for their mischief and manipulation. The dream world, in this respect, is as much a remedy as an excuse.

Now, until the break of day, Through this house each fairy stray. To the best bride-bed will we, Which by us shall blessèd be, And the issue there create Ever shall be fortunate. So shall all the couples three Ever true in loving be, And the blots of Nature's hand Shall not in their issue stand. Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar, Nor mark prodigious, such as are Despised in nativity, Shall upon their children be.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Oberon; (5.1.418-431) Right before this speech of Oberon's, Puck gave a pretty dark view of the rest of the world. Oberon rescues the play from a dark ending by giving a lighter, happier account of man's place in the natural world. The Fairy King touches on man's natural means to immortality: the act of procreation. Though the characters will naturally die, their love will live on in their children. Again, Oberon is responsible for showing magic in the natural world.

Marry, our play is "The most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe." A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Peter Quince & Bottom; (1.2.11-15) Bottom's misspeakings and misunderstandings are a running joke in the play, but sometimes from items like this, you get the sense that he is really oblivious. The Mechanicals are usually the butt of the joke, but they seem to be happily having their own fun here. In some cases foolishness can be a source of enjoyment, at least when paired with ignorance.

Marry, our play is, "The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisbe." A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Peter Quince & Bottom; (1.2.11-16) Quince announces that the Mechanicals want to perform Pyramus and Thisbe, the classic story of two young lovers who meet a tragic end after trying to elope. It's obvious that Quince and Bottom don't know anything about the difference between the genres of comedy and tragedy. They imagine performing Pyramus and Thisbe as a "lamentable comedy" and Bottom even suggests the play will be "merry." As it turns out, their performance in Act 5, Scene 1 is pretty hilarious, but only because the Mechanicals are terrible actors and know nothing about staging plays. We also want to point out that the basic story line of Pyramus and Thisbe echoes what happens to Hermia and Lysander in Act 1, Scene 1 when they're forbidden to marry. (Yes, Shakespeare also had Pyramus and Thisbe in mind when he wrote Romeo and Juliet.) Shakespeare likely read the story of Pyramus and Thisbe in Book 4 of Ovid's Metamorphoses, which was translated from Latin into to English in 1565 by a guy named Arthur Golding. You can check out our summary of Book 4 of the Metamorphoses here.

Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated. Exit I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me,

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Peter Quince & Bottom; (3.1.120-123) After Puck has "translated" Bottom's head into that of an ass, Bottom becomes the butt of Shakespeare's biggest joke about transformation. Clueless that he's been transformed, Bottom declares that his friends have run away from him in fear because they're trying to "make an ass" out of him (3.1.16). Shakespeare probably got the idea from Apuleius's Golden Ass, a hilarious and ancient story about a guy who's turned into a donkey. Bottom's conversion is also key to the play's theme of transformation, a concept Shakespeare borrowed from Ovid's Metamorphoses.

Here is the scroll of every man's name which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the Duke and the Duchess on his wedding-day at night.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Peter Quince; (1.2.4-7) Here, we learn that the Mechanicals (craftsmen) want to perform a play to help celebrate Duke Theseus's marriage to Hippolyta. When Shakespeare wrote <em>A Midsummer Night's Dream</em>, craftsmen didn't usually run around putting on plays like this. Back in early medieval England, though, guilds of craftsmen got together each year and put on plays for the Corpus Christi festival. Shakespeare's "Mechanicals" are a shout-out to the medieval craftsmen who moonlighted as amateur actors each year.

I'll follow you. I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier; Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound, A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire, And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck; (3.1.107-113) Puck lists off a group of truly fearsome things, but you'll note that none of them are magic. They are all little terrors that abound in nature. Nature itself, without the aid of magic, can be terrifying to humans.

If we offend, it is with our goodwill. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with goodwill. To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then, we come but in despite. We do not come, as minding to content you, Our true intent is. All for your delight We are not here. That you should here repent you, The actors are at hand, and, by their show, You shall know all that you are like to know,

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Peter Quince; (5.1.108-117) Quince butchers the prologue with bad punctuation, lousy rhymes, obvious statements, and by telling the entire story before it happens. Typically, this kind of information was reserved for the epilogue at the end of the play. In fact, the Epilogue (speech at the end) of A Midsummer Night's Dream has a lot in common with the Mechanicals' prologue. What's up with that?

On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee. Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Titania & Bottom; (3.1.143-146) Here we see Shakespeare's usual little trick where the fool of the play is sometimes given to the wisest insights. Here, Bottom sums up Titania's silliness by pointing out that there's no reason for her to be in love with him.

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, Hath every pelting river made so proud That they have overborne their continents. The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The plowman 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 murrain 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 here. 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.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Titania; (2.1.84-120) Titania, Queen of the Fairies, reveals that it isn't the magical realm, but the natural world that is disturbed by her quarrels with Oberon. The relationship between magic and the natural world is highlighted here. This long list of what's gone wrong in the world could very well be a list of unfortunate occurrences in the natural world: the weather is bad, hardworking farmers find their corn is rotting, and the seasons are all screwed up. It all points to the fact that things must be right in the magical world if there is to be balance in the natural world. Man can see the effects of magic on his environment, but he is likely to interpret them as some natural failing, not a magical one.

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song; Then, for the third part of a minute, hence— Some to kill cankers in the muskrose buds, Some war with reremice for their leathern wings To make my small elves coats; and some keep back The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Titania; (2.2.1-7) Titania describes her fairies as being at odds with the natural world, which is new. Up to this point, there is much emphasis on the natural world complementing the fairies' magic. However, the picture becomes more rich and complex when we realize that the fairies have struggles (or at least inconveniences) in the natural world as well.

I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note, So is mine eye enthrallèd to thy shape, And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Titania; (3.1.139-143) Bottom has literally been transformed into an ass, but here it's obvious that Titania has undergone a transformation as well. Oberon's love juice has turned the once-feisty and intelligent queen into a silly, love struck woman with no ability to judge appearances. Though we know that Bottom's voice and appearance as a donkey are particularly unappealing, Titania's love for him seems to have changed his faults into virtues (in her mind anyway). We remember that Helena said pretty much the same thing about Demetrius's character flaws back in

Out of this wood do not desire to go. Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no. [...] And I will purge thy mortal grossness so That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Titania; (3.1.154-155; 162-163) There's a dark element of coercion here, where Titania informs Bottom that he'll remain in the wood with her, regardless of whether or not he wants to. What's more, Titania is ready to use her magic to physically transform Bottom's mortal body into that of an "airy spirit."

Be kind and courteous to this gentleman. Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes To have my love to bed and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes. Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

A Midsummer NIght's Dream - Titania; (3.1.170-180) Again the Fairy Queen, who has access to magic, calls for the finest things of nature to be given to her lover. These luxuries are at their best when they are natural, so there is no need for magical enhancement. Further, it makes sense that Titania's fairies are all named for natural and country things. It adds to the evidence that the natural world complements the magical one, rather than contrasts it.

An I may hide my face, let me play Thisbe too, I'll speak in a monstrous little voice. 'Thisne, Thisne!' 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisbe dear, and lady dear!'

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Bottom; (1.2.49-52) When Bottom volunteers to play the role of Thisbe and make his voice high-pitched, Shakespeare alludes to the fact that all female roles were played by male actors on Shakespeare's stage. Usually, these parts were given to boys with high-pitched or "monstrous little" voices.

My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger, At whose approach ghosts, wand'ring here and there Troop home to churchyards. Damned spirits all That in crossways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone. For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully themselves exile from light, And must for aye consort with black-browed night.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck (3.2.399-409) Puck reminds us that there is more than just white magic and the natural world's beauty. For the ghostly dead spirits, the night is not a time of merriment, but a good time to hide themselves in shame from the light of day. The supernatural element of black magic is not central to the play, but is still used as yet another way to contrast different worlds.

Through the forest have I gone, But Athenian found I none On whose eyes I might approve This flower's force in stirring love. Night and silence! Who is here? (2.2.72-76)

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck ; (2.2.72-76) When Puck dumps the love juice in the wrong guy's eyes, we're reminded that even fairies are prone to foolish mistakes.

Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck; (3.2.112-117); Though the Athenian lovers are suffering, for an observer like Puck, the lovers' foolishness is source of entertainment.

My mistress with a monster is in love. [...] Titania waked and straightway loved an ass. This falls out better than I could devise

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck; (3.2.6; 36-37); Remember when we said that A Midsummer Night's Dream restores social order by reinstating traditional gender hierarchies? Well, here's the evidence. By sloshing the magic love juice in Titania's eyes, Oberon manages to make the Fairy Queen 1) fall in love with the ass-headed Bottom, and 2) give up her foster child to Oberon. In other words, Oberon wins the battle of the sexes by humiliating Titania and stripping her of the mother-son relationship she enjoyed with the little "changeling" boy.

Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon, Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite In the church-way paths to glide. And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck; (5.1.388-407); Puck draws attention back to the darkness of the play. In the courtly world, the feuds have ended, the lovers have all wed, and everything seems to be moving toward a happily-ever-after. Puck reminds us, though, that another reality still exists, one where nighttime is not for lovemaking and fairies, but for terrifying animals and the dead. Puck is the perfect candidate to make this reminder, as he is neither fairy nor human, but one who straddles both worlds and thus has an arguably more objective perspective about each of their versions of reality.

If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended: That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend. And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long, Else the Puck a liar call. So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck; 5.1.440-445; In the Epilogue to A Midsummer Night's Dream, Puck encourages the audience to think of Shakespeare's play as nothing "but a dream." Why make such a comparison? Like dreams, plays aren't real— they're the product of imagination and fantasy and involve the momentary suspension of reality. Puck's final speech is a good indication of where Shakespeare was in his writing career. This is not the best storyline he has created, but he writes it when he is at the peak of his comic form. In this way, it is a frothy piece, but beautifully written and worthwhile for that reason. While it does not meet the high standards of drama that his tragedies do, he would like to present it to you as a dream, which excuses him from creating a moving and amazing storyline and lets him just revel for a bit in the magic of his art as a poet.

This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard. The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus & Hippolyta; 5.1.223-226) Hippolyta thinks this play is really bad, but Theseus counters that all plays are probably bad, because they are by nature so far removed from reality. In other words, Theseus suggests that theater is far removed from real life and therefore cannot teach us anything about it. Still, is this really true?

What are they that do play it? Hard-handed men that work in Athens here, Which never laboured in their minds till now, And now have toiled their unbreathed memories With this same play, against your nuptial. And we will hear it. No, my noble lord, It is not for you: I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world, Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain To do you service.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus & Philostrate; (5.1.75-86) When Philostrate refers to the Mechanicals as men who have "never labour'd in their minds till now," he suggests the craftsmen are incompetent actors because they're uneducated. Is this the play's overall attitude toward acting and the theater? It certainly seems that way, because the Mechanicals are clueless about common theatrical conventions (basic staging, use of props, and so on) and butcher the names of classical places and figures during the performance. Is Shakespeare being a snob or, is he depicting his profession as a craft that requires skill and intelligence?

Go, Philostrate, Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments. Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth. Turn melancholy forth to funerals; The pale companion is not for our pomp.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (1.1.12-16) Here, Theseus orders his Master of the Revels to drum up some entertainment and a general party atmosphere. In Shakespeare's day, the Master of the Revels was the title of the royal court's official party planner. He was in charge of hiring entertainers and deciding which plays could be performed on public stages in and around London. He also had the authority to censor plays that were offensive or potentially rebellious in theme or content.

Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether (if you yield not to your father's choice) You can endure the livery of a nun, For aye to be shady cloister mewed, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood To undergo such maiden pilgrimage, But earthlier happy is the rose distilled Than that which withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. (1.1.169-180) Theseus explains to Hermia what her options are, but thinks that a vow of chastity would be a poor choice. For Theseus, choosing love over practicality is foolishness.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (1.1.169-180) Theseus explains to Hermia what her options are, but thinks that a vow of chastity would be a poor choice. For Theseus, choosing love over practicality is foolishness.

Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bed-time? Where is our usual manager of mirth? What revels are in hand? Is there no play To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Call Philostrate.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; 5.1.34-41) A lot of literary critics have pointed out that, in terms of plot, the craftsmen's actual performance of Pyramus and Thisbe (Act 5, Scene 1) isn't even necessary because, by the time the Mechanicals perform their play, Shakespeare has already wrapped things up by marrying off all of his couples and assuring us of a happy ending. So, why does Shakespeare bother with the Mechanicals' performance? Is it just to torture his newly married couples by delaying their wedding night? Something else?

Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword And won thy love doing thee injuries, But I will wed thee in another key, With pomp, with triumph, and with reveling.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (1.1.17-20) Yikes! In the play's opening scene, we discover that Theseus and Hippolyta are about to be married because Theseus conquered Hippolyta and her people (the Amazons). Although Hippolyta seems pretty pleased with the engagement, we're left with the uneasy feeling that Theseus sees love as something that can be won by sheer force. This idea resurfaces again just a few moments later when Theseus determines that a young woman must marry (against her will) the man her father has chosen for her. Otherwise, she'll face the death penalty or life as a celibate nun; Theseus believes love has the transformative power to change him from Hippolyta's enemy to her lover and to change Hippolyta from an Amazon Queen to a happy wife. It turns out that Theseus and Hippolyta are getting hitched because Theseus conquered Hippolyta's people, the Amazons. As we know, the Elizabethans were fascinated by classical myths about Amazons, women who cut or burned off their breasts so they could shoot a bow and arrow more efficiently, raised their daughters to be warriors, dominated their husbands, and treated their sons badly by sending them away, making them do "girlie" housework, and/or by killing them. Why does this matter? Well, because Amazons dominate men, they flip the traditional European gender system on its head. In Shakespeare's play, though, men regain their positions of power over women. (Theseus marries the Amazonian Queen he won in battle and, also, Oberon humiliates Titania and takes away her foster child). At least that's how literary critic Adrian Montrose sees it. He argues that A Midsummer Night's Dream "eventually restores the inverted Amazonian system of gender and nurture to a patriarchal norm."

O, methinks how slow This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires Like to a stepdame or a dowager Long withering out a young man's revenue.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (1.1.3-6) This is weird and kind of random, don't you think? When Theseus gripes about having to wait so long for his wedding night with Hippolyta, he compares the moon to a greedy stepmother ("step-dame") or widow ("dowager"), spending all of her son's inheritance. Theseus's complaint seems directed at women in general, so we're immediately aware that the play will dramatize some gender tension

What say you, Hermia? be advised fair maid. To you your father should be as a god, One that composed your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it. Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (1.1.47-53) Theseus says that fathers are like "gods" and daughters are like globs of wax. (This is a pretty common idea in 16th-century literature, where kids are often said to look like their fathers because they're "imprint[ed]" by their dads' images, much humans are said to be made in God's image.) Here, Theseus's metaphor is sinister because he says that, because Egeus had the power to make Hermia in his own image, he also has the "power" to "disfigure" her (body/face) if he feels like it.

Take time to pause; and, by the nest new moon (The sealing day betwixt my love and me, For everlasting bond of fellowship), Upon that day either prepare to die For disobedience to your father's will, Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would; Or on Diana's altar to protest For aye austerity and single life.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (1.1.85-92) Hermia is left with very few choices if she refuses to marry the man her father has chosen for her. Here, we learn that she must either wed Demetrius or choose from the following: 1) become a nun, or 2) die. It seems that Egeus and Theseus attempt to control Hermia's sexuality by trying to force her into an unwanted marriage or, alternatively, a nunnery, where she will be forced to live a life of "austerity."

Fair lovers, you are fortunately met. Of this discourse we more will hear anon.— Egeus, I will overbear your will, For in the temple, by and by, with us, These couples shall eternally be knit.—

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (4.1.184-188)d In A Midsummer Night's Dream, the seemingly natural course of love ends in marriage. (This is true of all Shakespearean comedies; head over to the "Genre" section for all the deets.) Here, Theseus's wedding day has finally arrived and the two sets of Athenian lovers have been paired up, despite Egeus's objections. Still, this seemingly happy ending leaves us a little nervous, if not skeptical. After all, the only reason Demetrius loves Helena is that he's under the spell of the magic love juice.

More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold: That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy. Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear?

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (5.1.2-23) Theseus points out that there is no single reality, but different realities depending on your perspective. In particular, the lover, the madman, and the poet all suffer from too much imagination, which distorts their versions of reality. The implication is that Theseus is without imagination, and so his version of reality is more practical and thus closer to the truth. Still, we know from Oberon's earlier speech that Titania has helped Theseus on more than one occasion, so he is as subject to magic as anyone else and might be more foolish than the lover, madman, and poet for not being able to see reality as broader than his narrow worldview would have it.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, [...] The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact:

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (5.1.4; 7-8) After hearing the young Athenians' stories, Theseus says that madmen, lovers, and poets have a lot in common—they're all highly imaginative and also a little nuts.

The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be to take what they mistake; And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect Takes it in might, not merit.

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Theseus; (5.1.95-98) Here, we're reminded that, even though the amateur actors are pretty lousy, they certainly mean well. We can also see that, if you want to be an actor (like Bottom and Peter Quince do), then you've got to put yourself out there and be willing to humiliate yourself in the process.

Madam, how like you this play? The lady protests too much, methinks. O, but she'll keep her word.

Hamlet - Hamlet & Gertrude; (3.2.253-255) Dude, Hamlet, lay off your mom. At this point in the action, the Player Queen has professed over and over again that she will not remarry after her husband, the Player King, dies. Gertrude says here that the character "protests too much" and Hamlet, as usual, finds a way too insult his mother. The faithful Player Queen, he insists, will "keep her word," unlike Gertrude, who Hamlet sees as unfaithful and adulterous. In this case, life definitely doesn't imitate art.

Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that mattering unction to your soul That not your trespass but my madness speaks. It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what's past, avoid what is to come, And do not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue, For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain!

Hamlet - Hamlet & Gertrude; (3.4.165-177) There's that word "rank" again. This time, Hamlet warns Gertrude to stop spreading "compost on the weeds" (sleeping with Claudius), which will make her sins (incest) even "ranker" than they already are. What's more, Hamlet's talk of "ulcers," "infection," and "corruption" seems to allude to venereal disease. It's as though Hamlet thinks women are contagious. Given contemporary standards of hygiene, we're thinking both men and women were running around contagious most of the time.

He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and written in choice Italian. You shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. The king rises.

Hamlet - Hamlet & Ophelia; (3.2.287-291) Veeeery interesting. Claudius looks pretty guilty when he gets up and leaves the room after he sees the on-stage poisoning. Looks like there's something to Hamlet's theory of theater, after all.

For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion—Have you a daughter? I have, my lord. Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a blessing, but, as your daughter may conceive, friend, look to 't.

Hamlet - Hamlet & Polonius; (2.2.197-203) To Hamlet, pregnancy is less the miracle of life than the miracle of death: given that Hamlet has just said "dead dogs" and "breed maggots" in the sun, it's obvious that Hamlet is equating Ophelia's body with "carrion" (another word for road kill). This suggests that women's bodies are putrid and rotten: they give birth to dead things. Gross? Yeah. But in a way, Hamlet's right: everything born dies. (Oh, he's also punning on the word "sun," which alludes to the big shiny thing in the sky and also to Hamlet, the "son" of the dead king and the guy who would impregnate Ophelia with "maggots.")

How is it with you, lady? QUEEN GERTRUDE Alas, how is't with you, That you do bend your eye on vacancy And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep, And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?

Hamlet - Hamlet Gertrude; (3.4.132-141) What's striking about this passage is the fact that Hamlet is the only one who can see and hear the Ghost when it appears in Gertrude's bedroom. (Earlier in the play, the castle guards and Horatio could see the spirit but Hamlet is the only one who has ever spoken with it.) So, what's going on here? What's changed? One possible explanation is that the Ghost chooses to appear only to Hamlet. (This kind of thing is common in the literature of the period.) Another possibility is that Hamlet's the only one who can see the Ghost here because it's a figment of his imagination, which would mean that Hamlet has broken down and has lost his mind.

O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God, God, How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on 't! ah fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed. Things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.129-137) When the play starts, Hamlet is clearly suicidal; the world he sees is so totally corrupted that he wishes his "flesh would melt." But there's a problem: suicide ("self-slaughter") is a sin. That's a lot of internal conflict for one tortured adolescent.

How strange or odd some'er I bear myself (As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on)

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.5.190-192) When Hamlet warns his friends that he's going to "put an antic disposition on," he's literally referring to a "clown" or a performer who plays the role of a "grotesque." That means he gets verbal freedom. Like the fool, he can say whatever he wants without getting in trouble. No one holds a crazy man responsible, right?

O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God, God, How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.133-138) We start off with a bang. Or, considering that this is Hamlet we're talking about, maybe more like a whimper: he's moaning about how depressed he is over his father's death and mom's remarriage, and wishing that his "flesh" would "melt"—i.e., that he'd die. History Snack! Elizabethans believed the human body was made up of four basic elements, called humors: phlegm, blood, yellow bile, and black bile. Hamlet seems to be suffering from what Elizabethans referred to as "melancholy," which was associated with too much "black bile" in the body. This state led to lethargy, irritability, distorted imagination, and so on. Basically, it sounds a lot like what we call "clinical depression" today. But since this is 1600 rather than the 21st century, he can't just take some Abilify; he has to plot (and delay) a murderous revenge. Textual Note: Some modern editions of the play read "sullied flesh" instead of "solid flesh." This is because the first folio (published 1623) edition of the play (which reads "solid") is slightly different than the first quarto (published 1603) edition, which reads "sallied." Modern editors who prefer the first quarto reading update the word "sallied" to "sullied," as in "stained." Does it matter? Sure it does. Some editors and literary critics prefer "sullied" flesh because it suggests that Hamlet feels that he personally has been soiled, stained, or contaminated by his mother's incestuous relationship with his murderous uncle. Given how he seems to feel about sex, we'd buy that.

[...] O God, God, How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on 't! ah fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this: But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two. So excellent a king; that was, to this Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and Earth. Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on. And yet, within a month (Let me not think on 't; frailty, thy name is woman!) [...] She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good. But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.136-150; 161-164) Hamlet's got a serious problem with mom. It's not just that he's disgusted by Gertrude's incestuous marriage to Claudius —Hamlet can hardly stand to think about his mother having sex, period. Which, um, seems normal to us. What's not normal is the way that he keeps thinking about it, anyway.

Fie on 't! ah fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed. Things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this: But two months dead—nay, not so much, not two. So excellent a king, that was, to this Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.139-146) Hamlet insists that Gertrude's hasty marriage to Claudius (after Old Hamlet's death) has turned the world into an "unweeded garden." So, was Denmark some kind of idyllic Eden when his father was alive? If you consider that Hamlet never had to think about his mom having sex before she remarried—then, to him, it probably was.

[...]That it should come to this: But two months dead—nay, not so much, not two. So excellent a king, that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and Earth. Must I remember? why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on. And yet, within a month (Let me not think on 't; frailty, thy name is woman!) [...] She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good. But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.141-150; 161-164) Hamlet's got a serious problem with mom. It's not just that he's disgusted by Gertrude's incestuous marriage to Claudius —Hamlet can hardly stand to think about his mother having sex, period. Which, um, seems normal to us. What's not normal is the way that he keeps thinking about it, anyway.Hamlet may start with his mom, but he ends with all women. He's disgusted by his mother's sexual "appetite," and blames that for her treacherous remarriage. Ergo, somehow, all women are "frail." He doesn't say "Frailty, thy name is Gertrude!"; he says, "Frailty, thy name is woman."

A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears—why she, even she (O, God, a beast, that wants discourse of reason Would have mourned longer!), married with my uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.2.151-158) Here, Hamlet is so bummed about Gertrude that he can't even speak in complete sentences. Check out how he compares her to Niobe, who grieved so bitterly for her dead children that she turned to stone—almost as if he thinks it's his funeral Gertrude attended and his death that Gertrude failed to mourn long enough.

O villain, villain, smiling, damnèd villain! My tables—meet it is I set it down That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.5.113-116) Well, duh. The only question is, which kind of smile is your villain using—the Cheshire Cat Grin? The Sideways Smile? Or—we imagine this is Claudius' favorite—the Psychotic Smirk?

How strange or odd some'er I bear myself (As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on)

Hamlet - Hamlet; (1.5.190-192) After the Ghost tells Hamlet that Claudius has murdered his father, Hamlet begins to plan his next steps. Here, he warns his friends that he will put on an "antic disposition"—i.e., pretend to be a madman. (See video below.) Doesn't this settle it? He says he's going to pretend to be mad; ergo, he isn't actually mad. Maybe. But keep in mind that (1) Hamlet says he's going to pretend to be mad ; (2) Hamlet's already "melancholy" at the beginning of the play ; (3) Elizabethan ideas about "madness" are unstable and they're different than modern notions of mental illness. As we'll see, the play itself offers multiple definitions of madness. This seems like a good time for a History Snack break. Here's something you might like to know: Shakespeare borrows the idea of feigned madness from one of the play's major sources, the story of "Amleth," a legendary Danish tale that dates back to at least the 9th century. In the source story, Amleth clearly pretends to be mad after his uncle kills his father and marries his mother, Gerutha. (The idea is that if the uncle believes Amleth has lost his mind, he won't suspect that Amleth knows the truth behind the murder. Amleth, then, will be safe from his murderous uncle.)

You were sent for, and there is a kind of confession in your looks which your modesties have not craft enough to color. I know the good king and queen have sent for you.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.300-304) The force (of sensing deception) is strong in this one: Hamlet's old friends try to deceive him, but Hamlet sees right through it.

I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.402-403) First, this seems to be Hamlet telling Rosencrantz and Guildenstern that he knows exactly what they're up to: spying on him. But we also included this as a little lesson in how things get lost in translation. "Handsaw" is almost certainly a corruption of "heronshaw," i.e. a heron—which sounds a lot less crazy than comparing a bird to a carpentry tool.

O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wanned, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit—and all for nothing!

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.577-584) After watching one of the traveling players (actors) deliver a moving speech, Hamlet berates himself for his inability to avenge his father's murder. If an actor can weep for a fictional character, why can't Hamlet get himself moving for his actual dad? (If you've ever cried over a movie romance while remaining stony-hearted during an actual fight, you know this feeling.)

O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wanned, Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit—and all for nothing! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have?

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.577-589) If the player can conjure up such intensity and "passion" for a fictional character, why can't Hamlet move himself to action against the man who killed his father? By the end of the passage, Hamlet tries to place himself in the position of this stage actor and wonders what the player would do if he had Hamlet's "motive" and "cue for passion" (that is, the knowledge that Claudius has killed his father). In other words, maybe we could all benefit from a few acting lessons.

Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murdered, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a *****, unpack my heart with words And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, A stallion!

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.611-616) Hamlet seems to think that not avenging his father's murder makes him a coward and, therefore, like a woman—and not a nice, respectable woman: a "*****," a "drab," and a "scullion." Nice.

I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have, by the very cunning of the scene, Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaimed their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players Play something like the murder of my father Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks; I'll tent him to the quick. If he but blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil, and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds More relative than this. The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.617-634) Hamlet wants the traveling players to put on a play, so when King Claudius watches a murder take place on stage, his emotional response will reveal whether or not he's guilty of murdering Old King Hamlet. This may sound a bit wacky to us, but Elizabethans believed that theater was a very powerful place. (If you've ever cried all the way through a Nicholas Sparks movie, you probably agree.) It could also be dangerous. In 1601, the Earl of Essex's rebel faction asked Shakespeare's theater company to perform Richard II (a play in which Henry Bolingbroke usurps the throne from the corrupt King Richard II). The very next day, Essex stormed the queen's court. Okay, sure, he failed. But the point is that the play seems to have gotten them riled up enough to actually move.

[...] The spirit that I have seen May be the devil, and the devil hath power T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps, Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (2.2.627-632) The Ghost always seems to be associated with Hamlet's is-he-or-isn't-he insanity. Here, Hamlet is concerned that the Ghost may be "the devil" and is trying to tempt him to murder Claudius without just cause. What's interesting to us about this passage is the way Hamlet (who is alone on stage at this point) wonders if being depressed has left him vulnerable to evil—which is maybe one more reason to drag his feet before committing murder.; Here, Hamlet is worried that the ghost might be lying about Old Hamlet's death in order to lead young Hamlet astray. Hamlet wants to be sure that Claudius is guilty so he devises a plan to test the ghost's story. Sounds pretty logical—i.e. not crazy—to us. We'd want confirmation of our spirit visitations, too.

Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.1.131-140) Since Hamlet thinks all women are "breeders of sinners," he obviously doesn't think much of women. But, it also suggests that he doesn't think much of himself either, being one of those "sinners" that's been "bred" by a woman. In fact, Hamlet says it would be better if his "mother had not borne" him at all. Bonus: that would mean she'd never had sex. Double win!

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the knave jowls it to the ground as if 'twere Cain's jawbone, that did the first murder! This might be the pate of a politician which this ass now o'erreaches, one that would circumvent God, might it not?

Hamlet - Hamlet; (5.1.77-82) Underneath our skin, we all look pretty much the same. (Unless you're this lady, apparently. If you get murdered, you definitely want her on your investigative team.); Here, Hamlet is complaining that the gravedigger is being a little rough with the bones—only murderers deserve to be handled so roughly. This says a lot about our sensitive protagonist. Despite all his emo musings about death and suicide, Hamlet values life.

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool, for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, and quickly too. Farewell.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.1.146-152) This is seriously mean. Here, Hamlet tells Ophelia that women make husbands into "monsters," which is allusion to the idea that cuckolds (men whose wives cheated on them) grew horns. In other words, he assumes that all women are unfaithful and all wives cheat, which is why he orders Ophelia to a "nunnery" (a convent for unmarried women but also a slang term for "brothel"). But why does he flip out like this? Does Hamlet know that Claudius and Polonius are using Ophelia as bait to eavesdrop? If so, does he view Ophelia's participation as a betrayal? Does Ophelia's seeming betrayal remind Hamlet of his mother's betrayal of his father?

I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig and amble, and you lisp; and nickname God's creatures and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on 't. It hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but one, shall live. The rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.1.154-162) Here, Hamlet uses the artificiality of cosmetics ("paintings") as an analogy for women's deception. Hamlet says fake behavior (playing dumb, walking, talking, and dancing in an affected way) is like makeup that covers a "face" —it makes a woman appear to be something she's not. In other words, Hamlet agrees with decades of teen magazine advice: just be yourself, girls! (Only, something tells us that Hamlet wouldn't actually dig that.)

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

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.1.64-68) Sure, you could say that Hamlet is starting to sound like a broken record with the whole suicide thing. But in this later soliloquy, he just might be moving on. Instead of obsessing about whether or not to kill himself, he's exploring the reasons why people in general don't commit suicide—which might be one reason he doesn't use the word "I" or "me" in this whole soliloquy.

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.2.1-8). Everyone—we mean, no one—loves an armchair director. Here, Hamlet "helps" the actors prep by telling them to hold back. More cable drama, and less daytime soap.

...] o'erstep not he modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of time his form and pressure.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.2.20-26) Hamlet wants the player's performance to be authentic, as though it were holding a "mirror up to nature." This idea about theater being a kind of "mirror" also seems to be in keeping with Hamlet's belief that the play will reflect King Claudius' guilt. And it does. So what kind of emotions is Hamlet reflecting back to us?

Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (3.2.393-402) When Rosencrantz and Guildenstern try to get Hamlet to confide in them, Hamlet is super ticked off. He compares deception to playing a musical instrument to mock his frenemies for not being skilled enough to "play" him. Oh, and guess what? Their deception ends up getting them killed, too.

[...] I do not know Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do,' Sith I have cause, and will and strength, and means To do 't. Examples gross as earth exhort me: Witness this army of such mass and charge, Led by a delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit with divine ambition puffed Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honor's at the stake. How stand I, then, That have a father killed, a mother stained, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while, to my shame, I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men That, for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? O, from this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

Hamlet - Hamlet; (4.4.46-69) This is a major turning point for Hamlet. As he watches Fortinbras' army march across Denmark, he contemplates the fact that so many men will lose their lives fighting for an insignificant and tiny piece of territory, which is nothing more than an "eggshell." At the same time, Hamlet feels a sense of shame that he (a man who has a very good reason to fight), does nothing about the fact that his father has been "kill'd" and his mother has been "stain'd." It is in this very moment that Hamlet's thoughts turn bloody as he sets a direct course for revenge.

No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither, with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it, as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto he was converted might they not stop a beer barrel? Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. O, that that earth which kept the world in awe Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!

Hamlet - Hamlet; (5.1.214-223) Hamlet has been obsessed with the physical reality of death since Act 1, and here he finally seems to get the philosophical implications: even Alexander the Great "died," "was buried," and "returneth into dust." Is this a sadder and wiser Hamlet?

Not a whit, we defy augury. There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves knows, what is 't to leave betimes? Let be.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (5.2.233-238) Okay, this is convoluted enough to be something about "known unknowns" and "known knowns," but it's actually a deeply philosophical acceptance of fate: whatever happens is going to happen when it happens—if not now, then later. Maybe this is why Hamlet has delayed so long.; When BFF Horatio warns Hamlet that he'll lose the duel with Laertes, he reveals that he's decided to give in to God's "providence," i.e. fate. The reference to the "fall of the sparrow" is from Matthew 10.29 —"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father" —which is taken to mean that God oversees the life and death of every single creature, even the sparrow. Was Hamlet's delay just a way of resisting fate all along?

O, I die, Horatio! The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit. I cannot live to hear the news from England. But I do prophesy the election lights On Fortinbras; he has my dying voice. So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, Which have solicited—the rest is silence.

Hamlet - Hamlet; (5.2.389-395) Shakespeare's tragic heroes always die. That's just what you get for being a tragic hero. At the same time, the plays are always concerned with reestablishing a sense of political order. Hamlet's dying words and his "prophesy" that Fortinbras will win the next "election" anticipates the Norwegian prince's arrival in Denmark and likely succession to the throne. We're left with a sense that Denmark, as a collective whole, will be in capable hands. Happy ending?

An earnest conjuration from the King, As England was his faithful tributary, As love between them like the palm might flourish, As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wear And stand a comma 'tween their amities, And many suchlike ases of great charge, That, on the view and knowing of these contents, Without debatement further, more or less, He should the bearers put to sudden death, Not shriving-time allowed. [...]

Hamlet - Hamlet; (5.2.43-52; 63) Hamlet is patting himself on the back pretty strenuously about how he got revenge on Rosencrantz and Guildenstern by sending them to their deaths. Totally fair, he says: they deceived him, so they get what they deserve.

Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon— He that hath killed my king and whored my mother, Popp'd in between th' election and my hopes, Thrown out his angle for my proper life, And with such cozenage—isv't not perfect conscience To quit him with this arm? And is 't not to be damned To let this canker of our nature come In further evil?

Hamlet - Hamlet; (5.2.63-70) Translation: Claudius disrupted Hamlet's succession to the throne of Denmark by taking advantage of Hamlet's absence (he was away at school) and convincing the noble councilmen to elect him king. So, is Hamlet more concerned with getting the throne than avenging his father?

O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fixed

Hamlet - Hamlet; His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! (1.2.133-136) Tricky. Hamlet wants to die, but "self-slaughter" is a sin. Cue a major religious and moral dilemma that will haunt him (and us) throughout the play.

And the country proverb known, That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown. Jack shall have Jill; Nought shall go ill; The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.

Midsummer Night's Dream - Puck; (3.2.487-493) Puck quips that he is setting matters back to their natural state. However, there is a hint of inequality about the natural states here. Men "take" their "own" women, and men shall have their "mares" to ride. The natural state here is not just one of love, but also of masculine ownership of women. It is about the nature of the pastoral too—when women are in the wood, they gain a certain amount of freedom that they would not have at court. Once the young women go back to Athens—though they will return with their respective loves—they will leave behind some of their freedom and equality. In Shakespeare's day, this ownership was part of a woman's "natural state."

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