To celebrate Shakespeare's birthday, we're featuring some of our favorite archival pieces about his life and work. This one was first published in July 2005. Happy Birthday, Bill!
After the horrors of this week, we could all use a little weekend palate cleanser. And who better to provide this Saturday summer sorbet than Britain's own immortal Bard, a writer who dealt with all the darkness of the human soul but also brilliantly celebrated the light and tickled our fancy?
The following bit of Shakespearean amusement was concocted by my great friend Bernard Levin, who passed away last year. It was recited to perfection by Michael York at a dinner in Aspen given by Lynda and Stewart Resnick in honor of all the speakers at the Aspen Institute's Ideas Festival. After York's rendition, the party erupted with requests (including one from Arthur Schlesinger) for copies of what York had just read. So instead of running out to Kinko's, I've decided to post it here so that he -- and all of you -- can have it to download, print out, e-mail, link to... and enjoy.
If you cannot understand my argument, and declare 'It's Greek to me',
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you recall your salad days,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you act more in sorrow than in anger,
if your wish is father to the thought,
if your lost property has vanished into thin air,
you are quoting Shakespeare;
if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy,
if you have played fast and loose,
if you have been tongue-tied,
a tower of strength,
hoodwinked or in a pickle,
if you have knitted your brows,
made a virtue of necessity,
insisted on fair play,
slept not one wink,
stood on ceremony,
danced attendance (on your lord and master),
laughed yourself into stitches,
had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing,
if you have seen better days or lived in a fool's paradise --
why, be that as it may, the more fool you, for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare;
if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage,
if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it,
if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood,
if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play,
if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason,
then -- to give the devil his due -- if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare;
even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing,
if you wish I was dead as a doornail,
if you think I am an eyesore,
a laughing stock,
the devil incarnate,
a stony-hearted villain,
bloody-minded or a blinking idiot,
then -- by Jove!
O Lord!
Tut, tut!
For goodness' sake!
What the dickens!
But me no buts --
it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.
"If you have your teeth set on edge" is from Jeremiah 31:30.
But every one shall die for his own iniquity: every man that eateth the sour grape, his teeth shall be set on edge. -King James Bible (Cambridge Ed.)
When is a 'foot' a 'game'?
Art. Doyle's Sherlock Holmes: "The game's afoot.". Fits the election, if the shoe fits. Ach Foo!
“Give the devil his due” was a proverb in Shakespeare’s day, and he even says so: “He was never yet a breaker of proverbs: he will give the Devil his due.” “Laughing stock” was common phrase in his day, and “eyesore” predates him, as does “my own flesh and blood.” “Rhyme nor reason,” “dead as a doornail,” “bloody minded” “what the dickens,” “it is all one,” and “lie low” all predate him, some by centuries. People who use these phrases now are quoting folklore, not Shakespeare.
Sounds to me like Falstaff but maybe someone knows the exact quote and source.
I believe it was an ancillary color character. But am on my phone and can't check.
Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;
it provokes the desire, but it takes
away the performance: therefore, much drink
may be said to be an equivocator with lechery:
it makes him, and it mars him; it sets
him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,
and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and
not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him
in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
What is shameful though is I studied Macbeth at school - but is a v_e_r_y long time ago :rolleyes: