A Thing I Found in the Intricate Glades and Tangles of William Shakespeare's Bosky Imagination - 'As You Like It'.
I love literary works. My fiancee, having known this of me gave me from her collection a book of Shakespeare few months ago: "As You Like It." It's a play, rich in poetry and comedy in the Shakespearian style, phraseology and vocabulary. I must confess, without a thing of shame, that as a beginner, I was faced with considerable difficulty in the language of Shakespeare. But my enthusiasm and love for art and literature smooth the path for me.
The play treats of the gift of Nature and the ways of Fortune. In it, Shakespeare made number of amazing characters. One of them I love to turn a page to read is Jaques, the only wise man in the play. A poet. Jaques is the only character who's not moved by Fortune. Life does not interest him; his interest is in his thoughts about life. One of his thoughts I found so alluring, is the one I wish to share below. He said:
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exit and their entrances; and one man in his time play many parts, his acts being seven pages, at first the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel, and shining morning face, creeping like snake unwillingly to school. And then the lover, sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, full of strong oath, and bearded like the pard, jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, in fair round belly with good capon lin'd, with eyes severe and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances; and so he plays his part.
"The sixth age shifts into the lean and Slipper's Pantaloon, with spectacles on nose and pouch on side, his youthful hose well sev'd, a world too wide for his shrunk shank; and his big namely voice, turning again toward childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound.
"Last seven of all, that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."
Words!
To those into literary criticism, however, where even Shakespeare's isn't spared may categorise this poetry as (beautifully) staid. But I being myself, I know even as Shakespeare may not mean what I see in this lines when he wrote them, I'm so much taken by the deep message therein worth pondering.
It summarizes this little journey of man. In art one finds spirituality, all that matters is the compass with which we journey with!
I hope you see what I see in these lines of the past master.
The play treats of the gift of Nature and the ways of Fortune. In it, Shakespeare made number of amazing characters. One of them I love to turn a page to read is Jaques, the only wise man in the play. A poet. Jaques is the only character who's not moved by Fortune. Life does not interest him; his interest is in his thoughts about life. One of his thoughts I found so alluring, is the one I wish to share below. He said:
"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exit and their entrances; and one man in his time play many parts, his acts being seven pages, at first the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel, and shining morning face, creeping like snake unwillingly to school. And then the lover, sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, full of strong oath, and bearded like the pard, jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, in fair round belly with good capon lin'd, with eyes severe and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances; and so he plays his part.
"The sixth age shifts into the lean and Slipper's Pantaloon, with spectacles on nose and pouch on side, his youthful hose well sev'd, a world too wide for his shrunk shank; and his big namely voice, turning again toward childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound.
"Last seven of all, that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."
Words!
To those into literary criticism, however, where even Shakespeare's isn't spared may categorise this poetry as (beautifully) staid. But I being myself, I know even as Shakespeare may not mean what I see in this lines when he wrote them, I'm so much taken by the deep message therein worth pondering.
It summarizes this little journey of man. In art one finds spirituality, all that matters is the compass with which we journey with!
I hope you see what I see in these lines of the past master.

I read. It's insightful.
ReplyDeleteI read. It's insightful.
ReplyDeleteThank you Aysha Mahmoud.
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