Archives For Poetry


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Troilus and Cressida

ACT II, SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles’ tent.

Re-enter ULYSSES

Ulysses
Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.

Agamemnon
What’s his excuse?

Ulysses
He doth rely on none,
But carries on the stream of his dispose
Without observance or respect of any,
In will peculiar and in self-admission.

Agamemnon
Why will he not upon our fair request
Untent his person and share the air with us?

Ulysses
Things small as nothing, for request’s sake only,
He makes important: possess’d he is with greatness,
And speaks not to himself but with a pride
That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth
Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse
That ‘twixt his mental and his active parts
Kingdom’d Achilles in commotion rages
And batters down himself: what should I say?
He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it
Cry ‘No recovery.’

Agamemnon
Let Ajax go to him.
Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
‘Tis said he holds you well, and will be led
At your request a little from himself.

Ulysses
O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
We’ll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord
That bastes his arrogance with his own seam
And never suffers matter of the world
Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp’d
Of that we hold an idol more than he?
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord
Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is,
By going to Achilles:
That were to enlard his fat already pride
And add more coals to Cancer when he burns
With entertaining great Hyperion.
This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
And say in thunder ‘Achilles go to him.’

Nestor 
[Aside to DIOMEDES] O, this is well; he rubs the
vein of him.

Diomedes
[Aside to NESTOR] And how his silence drinks up
this applause!

Ajax
If I go to him, with my armed fist I’ll pash him o’er the face.

Agamemnon
O, no, you shall not go.

Ajax
An a’ be proud with me, I’ll pheeze his pride:
Let me go to him.

Ulysses
Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.

Ajax
A paltry, insolent fellow!

Nestor
How he describes himself!

Ajax
Can he not be sociable?

Ulysses
The raven chides blackness.

Ajax 
I’ll let his humours blood.

Agamemnon
He will be the physician that should be the patient.

Ajax 
An all men were o’ my mind,–

Ulysses
Wit would be out of fashion.

Ajax
A’ should not bear it so, a’ should eat swords first:
shall pride carry it?

Nestor
An ‘twould, you’ld carry half.

Ulysses
A’ would have ten shares.

Ajax
I will knead him; I’ll make him supple.

Nestor
He’s not yet through warm: force him with praises:
pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.

Ulysses
[To AGAMEMNON] My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.

Nestor
Our noble general, do not do so.

Diomedes
You must prepare to fight without Achilles.

Ulysses
Why, ’tis this naming of him does him harm.
Here is a man–but ’tis before his face;
I will be silent.

Nestor
Wherefore should you so?
He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

Ulysses
Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

Ajax
A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!
Would he were a Trojan!

Nestor
What a vice were it in Ajax now,–

Ulysses
If he were proud,–

Diomedes
Or covetous of praise,–

Ulysses
Ay, or surly borne,–

Diomedes
Or strange, or self-affected!

Ulysses
Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:
But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here’s Nestor;
Instructed by the antiquary times,
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:
Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days
As green as Ajax’ and your brain so temper’d,
You should not have the eminence of him,
But be as Ajax.

Ajax
Shall I call you father?

Nestor
Ay, my good son.

Diomedes
Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax.

Ulysses
There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
To call together all his state of war;
Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow
We must with all our main of power stand fast:
And here’s a lord,–come knights from east to west,
And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.

Agamemnon
Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.

Exeunt

On 7/02/15 – Join me in the continuation of

Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida


Gambold (n.)

Gambold means frolic, entertainment, pastime. Gambold was cited in Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew (TS Introduction.ii.136). Duke Senior says to Orlando, about his father: “mine eye doth his effigies witness. Most truly imned and living in your face.”Sly says to Lord: “Is not a comonty a Christmas gambold.

Excuses are drummed up that the doctors think Sly ought to take it easy and see a play — plays are good for one’s health (Ind.ii.131-136)!


 

This is what I see…Felina Silver Robinson

Unreal©

Copyright 2015

Felina Silver Robinson

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My perfection

Is

My imperfection

Perfect skin tone

No sunburn

No age spots or pimples

Smooth as the skin of a newborn

No dirt under my nails

No loss of hair

But being perfect

Leaves me without

Feelings

Friends

And

Purpose

These are the downfalls

Of

Being

Unreal

What I would give to be

Imperfect

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These two continue thus to bandy bitter-sweet remarks, until Benedick, piqued by his companion’s jeers, exclaims he wishes his horse had the speed of her tongue, and were so ‘good a continuer.’

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Bittersweet Love Of Thee©

Felina Silver Robinson

June 28, 2015

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There is nothing more bittersweet

Than thy love for thee

The man who knows not of thy love

It is thy own heart that can’t beat without thee near

But thou catch not thou eye upon thine

Thy pray thou come to thee and ask for thy hand

And dine for a time

Til days end

Hence we part ways for a short while

Til we again meet

When no longer

Our love will be in doubt

Of another

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Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Troilus and Cressida

ACT II, SCENE III. The Grecian camp. Before Achilles’ tent.

Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and AJAX

Agamemnon
Where is Achilles?

Patroclus
Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord.

Agamemnon
Let it be known to him that we are here.
He shent our messengers; and we lay by
Our appertainments, visiting of him:
Let him be told so; lest perchance he think
We dare not move the question of our place,
Or know not what we are.

Patroclus
I shall say so to him.

Exit

Ulysses
We saw him at the opening of his tent:
He is not sick.

Ajax
Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it
melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my
head, ’tis pride: but why, why? let him show us the
cause. A word, my lord.

Takes AGAMEMNON aside

Nestor
What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?

Ulysses
Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.

Nestor
Who, Thersites?

Ulysses
He.

Nestor
Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.

Ulysses
No, you see, he is his argument that has his
argument, Achilles.

Nestor
All the better; their fraction is more our wish than
their faction: but it was a strong composure a fool
could disunite.

Ulysses
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily
untie. Here comes Patroclus.

Re-enter PATROCLUS

Nestor
No Achilles with him.

Ulysses
The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:
his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

Patroclus
Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry,
If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
Did move your greatness and this noble state
To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
But for your health and your digestion sake,
And after-dinner’s breath.

Agamemnon
Hear you, Patroclus:
We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his evasion, wing’d thus swift with scorn,
Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues,
Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss,
Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin,
If you do say we think him over-proud
And under-honest, in self-assumption greater
Than in the note of judgment; and worthier
than himself
Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
Disguise the holy strength of their command,
And underwrite in an observing kind
His humorous predominance; yea, watch
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,
That if he overhold his price so much,
We’ll none of him; but let him, like an engine
Not portable, lie under this report:
‘Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
Before a sleeping giant.’ Tell him so.

Patroclus
I shall; and bring his answer presently.

Exit

Agamemnon
In second voice we’ll not be satisfied;
We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.

Exit ULYSSES

Ajax
What is he more than another?

Agamemnon
No more than what he thinks he is.

Ajax 
Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a
better man than I am?

Agamemnon
No question.

Ajax
Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?

Agamemnon
No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as
wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether
more tractable.

Ajax
Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I
know not what pride is.

Agamemnon
Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is
his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle;
and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours
the deed in the praise.

Ajax
I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.

Nestor
Yet he loves himself: is’t not strange?

Aside

 

On 7/01/15 – Join me in the continuation of

Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida


Pedantical  (adj.)

Pedantical means pedantic, exaggerated, artificial. Pedantical is cited in Shakespeare’s Love’s Labours Lost (LLL V.ii.408) Berowne says to Rosaline: “spruce affection, figures pedantical.”


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It Only Hurts When I laugh©

Felina Silver Robinson

June 28, 2015

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There are many tears that I shed

My stomach fills with knots

And

My eyes swell like softballs

Mostly because

They tease me

And  I don’t want to

Appease them

I’ve held in the pain so long

I finally let it out

In a big laugh

That’s so hard

It catches me off guard

It cracks my rib

Then I wish I never

Laughed

But I just couldn’t pass up the chance

To let it all out

So I don’t care

Since it only hurts when I laugh

Maybe the next time they tease me

I can make them laugh

And see if they laugh so hard

That they crack their own rib

Maybe then

They won’t tease me again

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