1 William Shakespeare
NEW FULL DB (2.4M)
3 William Shakespeare
3 Deanna Raybourn
2 Jasper Fforde
2 Delmore Schwartz
1:Better a witty fool than a foolish wit. ~ William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night ,
*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***
1:Journey's end in lovers meeting - Twelfth Night ~ William Shakespeare
2:Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.
~ William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night,
3:Wild with laughter, Twelfth Night is nevertheless almost always on the edge of violence. ~ Harold Bloom
4:Alas! our frailty is the cause, not we! For such as we are made of, such we be. Twelfth Night It ~ Stendhal
5:Twelfth night, of all the nights of the year, is one where shapes shift and identities flicker. ~ Philippa Gregory
6:Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em." Twelfth Night ~ DK Publishing
7:Sir Toby Belch: "Dost think because thou art virtuous there shall be no more cakes and ale?" (Twelfth Night) ~ William Shakespeare
8:"As Shakespeare observed in Twelfth Night, no prisons are more confining than those we know not we are in." ~ James Hollis, Jungian analyst
9:I am all the daughters of my father’s house, And all the brothers too. —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Twelfth Night, ACT 2, SCENE 4 ~ Lisa Scottoline
10:I loved doing Shakespeare. My two favorite roles, in fact, have been Viola in Twelfth Night and Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream. ~ Blythe Danner
11:The innocent are guilty, the guilty are beyond hope, everything’s on its head, it’s a Twelfth Night of late-capitalist contradiction… ~ Thomas Pynchon
12:The actor in with them was Graham Huxtable. He was putting on a felonious one-man performance of Twelfth Night. Persistent offender. He’ll be fined and bound over. His Malvolio is truly frightful. ~ Jasper Fforde
13:No one mentioned the sad piece of tinsel, naked in places, hanging across the chimneybreast, nor that Twelfth Night was a week ago. No one mentioned the two Christmas cards on the mantelpiece. No one mentioned them because inside they were blank. ~ Andrew Barrett
14:It is madness,” Brisbane said, and he laughed until tears gathered in his eyes. “It may be madness, but it is an entirely March Christmas,” I told him. “And do not forget, this is only half the family. The rest will be here for Twelfth Night.” But that is a tale for another time. ~ Deanna Raybourn
15:They keep an eye on forgery, illegal dealing and overtly free thespian interpretations. The actor in with them was Graham Huxtable. He was putting on a felonious one-man performance of Twelfth Night. Persistent offender. He’ll be fined and bound over. His Malvolio is truly frightful. ~ Jasper Fforde
16:ANTONIO: Will you stay no longer? Nor will you not that I go with you? SEBASTIAN: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you. —William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night ~ Cassandra Clare
17:I clap until my hands sting. I clap as if doing so can prolong the evening, can transform Twelfth Night into Twenty-Fourth Night. I clap so that I can hold on to this feeling. I clap because I know what will happen when I stop. It's the same thing that happens when you turn off a really good movie - one that I've lost myself to - which is that I'll be thrown back to my own reality and something hollow will settle in my chest. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie all over again just to recapture that feeling of being inside something real. Which, I know, doesn't make any sense. ~ Gayle Forman
18:For the first time in ten years, the March family gathered to perform the Twelfth Night Revels for the village of Blessingstoke, just as they had done in Master Shakespeare’s day. The dragon breathed fire while the Turkish Knight brandished his sword at St. George, and when it was finished, the resurrected saint and his sad dragon stood in tableau while the white-robed chorus, of which Portia and I made two, sang of the blood-berried holly and the sweetly clinging ivy. Rather like Brisbane and myself, I thought fancifully. Both evergreen and hardy, one sturdy, one tenacious, and forever undivided. But now there was a new little branch grafted to our union. ~ Deanna Raybourn
19:This year there will be an eclipse of the Moon on the fourth day of August.9 Saturn will be retrograde; Venus, direct; Mercury, variable. And a mass of other planets will not proceed as they used to.10 As a result, crabs this year will walk sideways, rope-makers work backwards, stools end up on benches, and pillows be found at the foot of the bed;11 many men’s bollocks will hang down for lack of a game-bag;12 the belly will go in front and the bum be the first to sit down; nobody will find the bean in their Twelfth Night cake; not one ace will turn up in a flush; the dice will never do what you want, however much you may flatter them;13 and the beasts will talk in sundry places. ~ Fran ois Rabelais
20:Feste. Are you ready, sir?
Orsino. Ay; prithee, sing.
Feste. Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid. 950
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O, prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet 955
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where 960
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there!
Orsino. There's for thy pains.
Feste. No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.
Orsino. I'll pay thy pleasure then. 965
Feste. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
From Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene 4. ~ William Shakespeare
21:I was thrown together with Florence, or 'Florawns' as she was called, a pert girl of nineteen who worked in our kitchen and was sent out to help me. First, I followed her to a butcher where fat sausages hung from the ceiling like aldermen's chains, and I could choose the best of plump ducks, sides of beef, and chops standing guard like sentries on parade. Once the deal was done Florence paid him, gave me a wink and cast a trickle of coins into her apron pocket. So it seemed that serving girls will pay themselves the whole world over.
The size of the Paris market made Covent Garden look like a tinker's tray. And I never before saw such neatness; the cakes arranged in pinks and yellows and greens like an embroidery, and the cheeses even prettier, some as tiny as thimbles and others great solid cartwheels. As for the King Cakes the French made for Twelfth Night, the scents of almond and caramelled sugar were to me far sweeter than any perfumed waters. ~ Martine Bailey
22:Dogs Are Shakespearean, Children Are Strangers
Dogs are Shakespearean, children are strangers.
Let Freud and Wordsworth discuss the child,
Angels and Platonists shall judge the dog,
The running dog, who paused, distending nostrils,
Then barked and wailed; the boy who pinched his sister,
The little girl who sang the song from Twelfth Night,
As if she understood the wind and rain,
The dog who moaned, hearing the violins in concert.
—O I am sad when I see dogs or children!
For they are strangers, they are Shakespearean.
Tell us, Freud, can it be that lovely children
Have merely ugly dreams of natural functions?
And you, too, Wordsworth, are children truly
Clouded with glory, learned in dark Nature?
The dog in humble inquiry along the ground,
The child who credits dreams and fears the dark,
Know more and less than you: they know full well
Nor dream nor childhood answer questions well:
You too are strangers, children are Shakespearean.
Regard the child, regard the animal,
Welcome strangers, but study daily things,
Knowing that heaven and hell surround us,
But this, this which we say before we’re sorry,
This which we live behind our unseen faces,
Is neither dream, nor childhood, neither
Myth, nor landscape, final, nor finished,
For we are incomplete and know no future,
And we are howling or dancing out our souls
In beating syllables before the curtain:
We are Shakespearean, we are strangers.
~ Delmore Schwartz
23:Thus in Twelfth Night the fact that Malvolio is called demon-possessed, and is associated with the devil over and over again, points to his thematic role in the play. Like Satan, he is sick with self-love, falling by the force of his own gravity, as Chesterton said. Of course, Malvolio is a comic devil, not nearly so threatening as Iago or Shylock, but he is a devil nonetheless. And his devilry is manifest particularly in his desire to end the gaiety of Olivia’s house. Here especially the title of the play comes into its own. Twelfth Night is named for the last night of the Christmas season, the final celebration of the Incarnation. It is a night for carnival, for suspension of the serious and structured. Malvolio wants to stop the merriment, and so it is fitting that he is ultimately excluded from it. But more: Malvolio is not only excluded from the comic climax of the play. He is excluded and overcome through trickery, practical joking, mirth. Satan digs a pit for the merry, but Satan falls into the very pit of merriment. And it tortures him forever. In the final analysis, that is the practical import of all that has been said in this little book: the joy of Easter, the joy of resurrection, the joy of trinitarian life does not simply offer an alternative “worldview” to the tragic self-inflation of the ancients. Worked out in the joyful life of the Christian church, deep comedy is the chief weapon of our warfare. For in the joy of the Lord is our strength, and Satan shall be felled with “cakes and ale” and midnight revels. ~ Peter J Leithart
24:Plum’s handsome mouth curved into a smile. “Oh, yes. It’s slipped your mind, dearest, but the year is 1889—and that means Twelfth Night falls in 1890.”
I buried my face in my hands. “No.”
Brisbane stirred himself. “What is the significance of 1890?”
I peeped over my fingertips. “The Twelfth Night mummers’ play. Every year the villagers put on a traditional mummers’ play.”
Brisbane groaned. “Not one of those absurdities with St. George and the dragon?”
“The very same.” I exchanged glances with Plum. His smile sharpened as he picked up the story. “I am sure Julia told you Shakespeare once stayed as a guest of the Marches at Bellmont Abbey. There was apparently a quarrel that ended with the earl’s wife throwing Shakespeare’s only copy of the play he was writing into the fire. They patched things up, and—”
“And to demonstrate he bore no ill will, Shakespeare himself wrote our mummers’ play,” I finished. “Once every decade, instead of the villagers of Blessingstoke performing the traditional play, the family perform the Shakespearean version for the local folk.”
“Every ten years,” Brisbane said, his black brows arched thoughtfully.
“Yes. The men in the family act out the parts and the women are a sort of chorus, robed in white and singing in the background.”
“It is great fun, really,” Plum put in. “Father always plays the king who sends St. George to kill the dragon and the rest of the parts always seem to go to the same people. Except for St. George. That one always falls to the newest male to marry into the family.”
I busied myself with tearing a muffin to bits while Plum’s words registered with Brisbane. “Absolutely not.” I turned to him. “But dearest, it is tradition.”
“I am not an enthusiast of tradition. ~ Deanna Raybourn
25:Aunt Lucy, sitting beside her on the settee, glanced at Amelia. “Is something wrong, my dear? You just heaved a very mournful sigh and you’re looking quite flushed and bothered.” Amelia flashed her godmother an apologetic smile. “No, Aunt Lucy, I’m fine. Just a trifle, um, hot.” Her gaze drifted back to Nigel. He was crouched down, his green robe flared out in a dramatic sweep, as he spoke with little Ned Haythrop. Ned’s ancient spaniel had died only last week and, according to his grandmother, Lady Peterson, he’d been inconsolable. But Nigel got him smiling and soon drew a giggle from the boy with a joke about swallowing the bean in the Twelfth Night cake. Even Amelia’s sister, Penelope, who at fourteen considered herself too old for such things as holiday pantomimes, had clearly fallen victim to Nigel’s quiet charm. As had Amelia. She’d only been too stupid to realize it until it bashed her over the head. Aunt Lucy looked at her skeptically but didn’t probe. Like Amelia, she turned to watch Nigel laughing with Ned and Lady Peterson. “He does make a splendid Father Christmas, doesn’t he?” her godmother said with approval. “Much better than Philbert. That man carried on as if he were about to submersed in a vat of flaming wassail. Just between us, I suspect his twisted ankle might be more imaginary than real. Philbert can be so dramatic.” Amelia blinked. One could characterize Philbert as rather mysterious, but dramatic? “Er, I’m sure you’re right, Aunt Lucy, and I agree about Mr. Dash. He’s a perfectly splendid, considerate man. He didn’t blink an eyelash when Lord Broadmore so rudely made fun of his costume.” She scowled at the memory of his lordship’s jeers when Nigel came into the drawing room dressed as Father Christmas, leading Thomas the footman who carried the large tray of treats. Amelia thought Nigel looked wonderful in the dark velvet robe. The ermine trim brought out the cobalt depths in his eyes and the mistletoe wreath looked positively kingly atop his thick brown hair. Amelia had helped him with the wreath, and when he’d bent down a bit so she could adjust the fit, she’d been tempted to stroke her fingers through his silky locks. She’d blushed madly when he straightened up and thanked her with a teasing smile. Aunt ~ Anna Campbell
26:sorun aslında ‘’soytarı’’ gibi soytarılarımızın olmaması olabilir. ‘Soytarı’ kelimesi, Arapça, sahte fallus takarak gülünç ve çoğunlukla müstehcen oyunlar oynayan kişiler için kullanılan ‘sa’tir’den geliyor. Arapça ‘satir’in kaynağı ise Eski Yunanca’da sahte penis ve keçi ayaklarla tasvir edilen mitolojik yaratık ‘satyros’. Batı dillerine vakıf Ahmet Vefik Paşa, Lehçe-i Osmani’de, soytarı kelimesini ‘’taklitçi maskara’’ şeklinde tanımlamış. Maskara, Arapça’dan Batı dillerine geçmiş kelimelerden biri. Güldürmek, eğlendirmek için başka kılığa giren, yüzünü başka bir şeyle kaplayan örten gibi anlamları var. Evet doğru tahmin ettiniz; ‘maske’ ve ‘maskot’ ile de tabii ki ilgili… İngilizce’de ‘jester’ deniyor soytarıya. Anglo-Norman ‘gestour (ozan)’ kelimesinden türemiş. Fransızca da ‘minstrel’ de deniyor bu halk ozanlarına. Minstrel ise, eski Fransızca’da hizmet, görev gibi anlamları olan ‘menistere’ o da Latince ‘bir başka otoritenin emrinde görev yapan’ anlamındaki ‘ministerium’dan geliyor. Britanya devleti 1916’dan beri Başbakanın altındaki devlet departmanlarına ‘minister’ demeye başladı. Jester(soytarı) ile bakanın(minister) birleştiği yer de burası. Jester, Kral’ın dar kabinesinin bir üyesiydi. Sadece üyesi değil en imtiyazlı üyesiydi. Elbette ki kralı eğlendirmek, keyiflendirmek gibi bir görevi vardı. Ama bununla sınırlı değildi. Soytarı, Kral’ın gittiği her yere giderdi. Asla yanından ayrılmazdı. Hatta yatak odasına bile girebilirdi. Düzenle kaos arasındaki çok ince bir çizgide görev yapardı. Çünkü en önemli görevi, kimsenin yüzüne karşı gerçekleri konuşamayacağı kişiye (kral, derebey, hükümdar vs) sürekli doğruyu söylemekti. Etrafları yağcı ve yalakayla çevrili krallar, kendilerine doğruyu söyleyebilsin diye etraflarında bir soytarıyı mutlaka tutardı. Soytarının becerisi, krala, rahatsız edici gerçeği, mizahi bir tarzda kralı rencide etmeden, küçük düşürmeden söyleyebilmekti. Bunu da çoğunlukla bir dörtlükle, bir halk şarkısı şeklinde ozanca, dans, kıyafet ve mimikleriyle komikçe dile getirirlerdi. Hükümdarlığın üst düzey yetkililerini, piskoposların veya hükümdarın yozluğunu, tembelliğini, yönetimle ilgili dokunulmaz görülen herşeydeki yanlışı hicvedebilirdi. Örneğin bütün gece sabaha kadar içip, akşama kadar sızması nedeniyle bir çok devlet işini aksatan İkinci Charles’ın soytarısı, bir sabah Kral daha yeni uyumaya hazırlanırken odasına girmiş ve onu uyutmamıştı. ‘Peki tamam, duyayım hatamı, söyle’ diyen krala, ‘bütün ülkenin diline düşen hatanızı burada söyleyerek başımı derde sokacak değilim’ diyerek zekice bir karşılık vermişti. Soytarılar, ciddi politik kararlarda bile kimsenin konuşmak istemediği gerçeği dile getirebilirdi. 1386 yılında Avusturya Dükü, İsviçre’ye saldırma kararını özel savaş konseyinde tartışmaya açtı. Bütün konsey üyeleri kararın ne kadar isabetli olduğunu söyleyerek alkışlıyor ve İsviçre’ye girmenin yolları üzerine kafa yoruyordu. Gerçeği konuşmak Dük’ün yanı başında oturan soytarıya düştü: ‘’Sizi ahmaklar, hepiniz İsviçre’ye nasıl gireceğinizi biliyorsunuz da, bir taneniz bile geri nasıl çıkabileceğimizi söylemiyor..!’’ Yani Shakespeare’in ‘King Lear’ oyununda, krala doğruları söyleyebilen tek bilgi karakterin ‘The Fool’ olması boşuna değil. ‘The Fool, Kral Lear’in sadece iyi zamanında değil kötü zamanında da yanında kalan tek kişidir. Shakespeare'in ‘Twelfth Night’ oyununda ise ‘soytarı Feste’, ‘’deliyi oynayacak kadar bilge’’ diye tanımlanıyordu. Kağıt oyunlarındaki her derde deva ‘joker’ de, soytarıdan başkası değildir. Polonya’nın 16’ncı yüzyılın ilk y ~ Anonymous
"little soul, little flirting,
little perverse one
where are you off to now?
little wan one, firm one
little exposed one...
and never make fun of me again."
Now I must betray myself.
The feast of bondage and unity is near,
And none engaged in that great piety
When each bows to the other, kneels, and takes
Hand in hand, glance and glance, care and care,
None may wear masks or enigmatic clothes,
For weakness blinds the wounded face enough.
In sense, see my shocking nakedness.
I gave a girl an apple when five years old,
Saying, Will you be sorry when I am gone?
Ravenous for such courtesies, my name
Is fed like a raving fire, insatiate still.
But do not be afraid.
For I forget myself. I do indeed
Before each genuine beauty, and I will
Forget myself before your unknown heart.
I will forget the speech my mother made
In a restaurant, trapping my father there
At dinner with his whore. Her spoken rage
Struck down the child of seven years
With shame for all three, with pity for
The helpless harried waiter, with anger for
The diners gazing, avid, and contempt
And great disgust for every human being.
I will remember this. My mother's rhetoric
Has charmed my various tongue, but now I know
Love's metric seeks a rhyme more pure and sure.
For thus it is that I betray myself,
Passing the terror of childhood at second hand
Through nervous, learned fingertips.
At thirteen when a little girl died,
I walked for three weeks neither alive nor dead,
And could not understand and still cannot
The adult blind to the nearness of the dead,
Or carefully ignorant of their own death.
--This sense could shadow all the time's curving fruits,
But we will taste of them the whole night long,
Forgetting no twelfth night, no fete of June,
But in the daylight knowing our nothingness.
Let Freud and Marx be wedding guests indeed!
Let them mark out masks that face us there,
For of all anguish, weakness, loss and failure,
No form is cruel as self-deception, none
Shows day-by-day a bad dream long lived
And unbroken like the lies
We tell each other because we are rich or poor.
Though from the general guilt not free
We can keep honor by being poor.
The waste, the evil, the abomination
Is interrupted. the perfect stars persist
Small in the guilty night,
and Mozart shows
The irreducible incorruptible good
Risen past birth and death, though he is dead.
Hope, like a face reflected on the windowpane,
Remote and dim, fosters a myth or dream,
And in that dream, I speak, I summon all
Who are our friends somehow and thus I say:
"Bid the jewellers come with monocles,
Exclaiming, Pure! Intrinsic! Final!
Summon the children eating ice cream
To speak the chill thrill of immediacy.
Call for the acrobats who tumble
The ecstasy of the somersault.
Bid the self-sufficient stars be piercing
In the sublime and inexhaustible blue.
"Bring a mathematician, there is much to count,
The unending continuum of my attention:
Infinity will hurry his multiplied voice!
Bring the poised impeccable diver,
Summon the skater, precise in figure,
He knows the peril of circumstance,
The risk of movement and the hard ground.
Summon the florist! And the tobacconist!
All who have known a plant-like beauty:
Summon the charming bird for ignorant song.
"You, Athena, with your tired beauty,
Will you give me away? For you must come
In a bathing suit with that white owl
Whom, as I walk, I will hold in my hand.
You too, Crusoe, to utter the emotion
Of finding Friday, no longer alone;
You too, Chaplin, muse of the curbstone,
Mummer of hope, you understand!"
But this is fantastic and pitiful,
And no one comes, none will, we are alone,
And what is possible is my own voice,
Speaking its wish, despite its lasting fear;
Speaking of its hope, its promise and its fear,
The voice drunk with itself and rapt in fear,
Rhetoric and hope, and always fear:
"For fifty-six or for a thousand years,
I will live with you and be your friend,
And what your body and what your spirit bears
I will like my own body cure and tend.
But you are heavy and my body's weight
Is great and heavy: when I carry you
I lift upon my back time like a fate
Near as my heart, dark when I marry you.
"The voice's promise is easy, and hope
Is drunk, and wanton, and unwilled;
In time's quicksilver, where our desires grope,
The dream is warped or monstrously fulfilled,
In this sense, listen, listen, and draw near:
Love is inexhaustible and full of fear."
This life is endless and my eyes are tired,
So that, again and again, I touch a chair,
Or go to the window, press my face
Against it, hoping with substantial touch,
Colorful sight, or turning things to gain once more
The look of actuality, the certainty
Of those who run down stairs and drive a car.
Then let us be each other's truth, let us
Affirm the other's self, and be
The other's audience, the other's state,
Each to the other his sonorous fame.
Now you will be afraid, when, waking up,
Before familiar morning, by my mute side
Wan and abandoned then, when, waking up,
You see the lion or lamb upon my face
Or see the daemon breathing heavily
His sense of ignorance, his wish to die,
For I am nothing because my circus self
Divides its love a million times.
I am the octopus in love with God,
For thus is my desire inconclusible,
Until my mind, deranged in swimming tubes,
Issues its own darkness, clutching seas
---O God of my perfect ignorance,
Bring the New Year to my only sister soon,
Take from me strength and power to bless her head,
Give her the magnitude of secular trust,
Until she turns to me in her troubled sleep,
Seeing me in my wish, free from self-wrongs.
~ Delmore Schwartz
The Menologium. (Preface To The Anglo-Saxon
CHRIST WAS BORN, KING OF GLORY
in midwinter, mighty prince,
eternal, almighty, on the eighth day,
Healer, called, heaven's ward;
so at the same time singing praises
countless folk begin the year,
for the awaited time comes to town,
the first month, famous January.
Five nights later the Lord's baptism,
and eternal God's epiphany comes;
the twelve-days' time to blessed men known,
by us in Britain called Twelfthnight.
Four weeks later February falls,
Sol-month brighter settles in town,
a month minus two days;
so February's way was reckoned by the wise,
One night more is Mary's mass,
the King's mother; for on that day Christ,
the child of the Ruler, she revealed in the temple.
After five nights winter was fared,
and after seventeen he suffered death:
the Saviour's man, great Matthew,
when spring has come to stay in town.
And to the folk after five nights
-- unless it is Leap Year, when it comes one night later -by his cold clothes of frost and hail
wild March is known throughout the world,
Hlyda-month, blowing loud,
Eleven nights later, holy and noble,
Gregory shone in God's service,
honoured in Britain. So Benedict,
nine nights passing, sought the Preserver,
the resolute man celebrated in writings
by men under his rule. So the wise in reckoning
at that time count the equinox,
because, wielding power, God at the beginning
made on the same day sun and moon.
Four nights after the Father
sent the equinox, his archangel announced
the mighty salvation to great Mary,
that she the Shaper of all should bear
bring to birth the best of kings,
as it was widely told through the world;
that was a great destiny delivered to us.
So after seven nights the Saviour sends
the month of April, most often bringing
the mighty time of comfort to mankind,
the Lord's resurrection, when joy is rightly
celebrated everywhere, as that wise one sang:
'This is the day which the Lord hath made;
we will rejoice and be glad in it.'
Nor may we hold that time by tally
of a length of days, nor the Lord's
ascension to heaven, for always it changes
within the rules known to the wise man,
old in winters; in the cycle
he can with craft find the holy days.
The martyrs' memory we must yet recount,
say in words, sing with wisdom,
that after nineteen nights and five
from Easter's blessed coming to us,
men begin to raise the relics,
holy treasures; that is a high day,
when Rogation is held. Quickly to men's homes,
six nights further in the fine gear,
in groves and flowers comes glorious, shining,
strongly to men as it must,
the fulness of May through many lands.
On the same day the noble disciples
Philip and James gave up their lives,
mighty warriors, for the maker's love.
After two nights was taken by God
to blessed Helen the noblest of beams,
on which lay suffering the Lord of angels
for love of man, the maker on a gallows
by the Father's leave. After the first week
minus one night, to men are brought
sun-bright days by summer to town,
warm weather. Woods and fields as soon
bloom and blossom; so beauty is called up
over middle-earth, as in his manner
each kind of creature declares the King's love,
the Almighty's. After eight nights
and days turning, the Lord took up
Augustine into the other light,
embraced the blessed man who in Britain
gladly inspired men's obedience
within the will of God as wise Gregory bade.
Nor have I heard before of a better man
anywhere bringing better teaching,
a more celebrated bishop over the sea;
by the king's seat in Kent he rests near the church
after six long days the month draws near,
earlier by us called Litha,
now called June, and the gem rises
in the heavens the highest in the year,
then sinks from his place and sets;
he will not for long travel late,
the fairest light over the fields.
After thirteen nights and ten the glorious thane
loved by the Lord, John the Baptist, was born,
whom we celebrate in midsummer.
And widely it is held throughout the world,
widely honoured as well it should be,
that holy day in the homes of men,
when Peter and Paul the apostles,
loyal servants, suffered in Rome
five nights on from midsummer's day
glorious martyrdom; miracles they worked,
many for men among the nations,
countless, manifest and clear through the Maker's Son.
Then after two nights, timely to us,
comes July, in which James
on the twenty-fourth night took up his life,
wise and truthful, teacher of the people,
Zebedee's son. Summer on the seventh night
brings the weed-month brightly to town;
everywhere August comes to the earth,
and Lammas-time. Later coming,
one week minus one day,
is high autumn, heavy with harvest;
then wealth is found that is fair on earth.
On the third day the glorious deacon
was martyred and went forth, mighty man,
Lawrence, who now has life
with the wonder-Father in reward for his works.
After five nights the fairest of virgins,
the wondrous woman, went to the God of hosts
for her son's mothering, to the victory-seat,
a home in heaven; the Saviour has so
repaid forever that perfect fostering.
Then on the tenth night in the turning of time,
Bartholomew here in Britain
is honoured far and wide for his fate.
So also after four nights,
the noble's death-day is known to men:
he who baptized the glorious Boy,
the worthy warrior of the Word,
of whom God said no greater man
was born on earth between man and woman.
And after three nights throughout the nations,
the month that is held by men as holy
fares to the people as it was foreseen,
as the old astronomers ere found,
September's way; and it was on the seventh day
that the best queens came to birth,
the Lord's mother. Then more days pass,
thirteen in number, and the blameless thane
clear-sighted in God's word sent up his spirit:
Matthew to his Maker
went in eternal joy. Then arrives
after three nights to the nations,
the day of equinox to the children of earth;
and here we count worthy, far and wide,
the archangel's time in the autumn,
Michael, known to the multitude,
five nights after the equinox-day.
Two nights later, the tenth month
comes to men with wise counsel,
October arrives among men with abundance:
Winterfylleth was the old word
among the island-dwellers, Angles and Saxons,
men and women. So the warriors' time comes
on the twenty-seventh, and the two noble ones
on the same day are celebrated:
we have heard how long ago
Simon and Jude, shining with glory,
did great deeds. For that their doom
was a blessed uplifting. Then arrives quickly,
after four nights, to the folk with plenty,
Blotmonath in town, and brings feasting to men:
November, a time of blessedness
like no other month, by the Lord's mercy.
The same day we celebrate the feast of All Saints,
who worked in the world the will of God.
Then winter's day opens wide
in six nights, seizes the sun,
ravages the harvest with rime and snow,
chains them with frost at the Lord's command;
the green meadows may not stay with us,
the fields' covering. And four nights later
it was that the mighty one, Martin, departed,
the stainless servant sought the Lord;
and on the twelfth night Clement was taken,
sunk in the grey sea, strong in victory,
called on by name by many in need.
On the seventh night after, dear to the Saviour,
noble Andrew arose into heaven,
gave his ghost into God's keeping,
eager depart in earthly death,
Then morning to men brings in the month
called December by the Redeemer's children,
the old Yule. So in eight nights and twelve
the Saviour himself, strong in purpose,
gave with difficulty an eternal kingdom to Thomas,
and to the bold man his blessing.
Then after four nights the Father of angels
sent his Son into creation's expanse
to comfort mankind. Now you can find
the holy days, that man shall hold
throughout Britain at the bidding
of the Saxon's king at the same time.
~ Anonymous Olde English
3 James George Frazer
3 The Golden Bough
1.56_-_The_Public_Expulsion_of_Evils, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
is supposed to frighten the witches away. The last of the mystic
twelve days is Epiphany or Twelfth Night, and it has been selected
as a proper season for the expulsion of the powers of evil in
various parts of Europe. Thus at Brunnen, on the Lake of Lucerne,
boys go about in procession on Twelfth Night carrying torches and
making a great noise with horns, bells, whips, and so forth to
1.58_-_Human_Scapegoats_in_Classical_Antiquity, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
over, suffered a real death in his assumed character. The King of
the Bean on Twelfth Night and the mediaeval Bishop of Fools, Abbot
of Unreason, or Lord of Misrule are figures of the same sort and may
1.62_-_The_Fire-Festivals_of_Europe, #The Golden Bough, #James George Frazer, #Occultism
first time on Christmas Eve and continue to put on the fire for a
little while every day till Twelfth Night, can, if kept under the
bed, protect the house for a whole year from fire and thunder; that
because they allege that it causes the seeds to thrive better; and
the women keep pieces of it till Twelfth Night for the sake of their
chickens. Some people imagine that they will have as many chickens
1.ww_-_The_Excursion-_VII-_Book_Sixth-_The_Churchyard_Among_the_Mountains, #Wordsworth - Poems, #William Wordsworth, #Poetry
Permit, like honours, dance and song, are paid
To the Twelfth Night, beneath the frosty stars
Or the clear moon. The queen of these gay sports,
The_Dwellings_of_the_Philosophers, #unset, #Nirodbaran, #Integral Yoga
Twelfth Night offers us in its own form (sole, dolphin) or sometimes in the shape of the
"bather" (6) or the bean hidden in the layers of the flaky Twelfth Night cake (7) . The pure and
white ermine thus appears as the expressive emblem of the common mercury united to the
(6) Translators Note: Literally, a "swimmer", a small china doll included in the Twelfth Night cake. Whoever
finds it becomes the king or queen.
sun and [*458-6] (mene), moon, also indicates the mercurial lunar matter combined with the
sulphurous solar substance. Therefore it is a translation identical to that of the Twelfth Night
cake, adorned with the sign of light and spirituality: the cross, evidence of the real incarnation
Wikipedia - Feste -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Malvolio -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Maria (Twelfth Night) -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Olivia (Twelfth Night) -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Orsino (Twelfth Night) -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Sebastian (Twelfth Night) -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Sir Andrew Aguecheek -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Sir Toby Belch -- character in Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Template talk:Twelfth Night
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night -- play by William Shakespeare
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1933 film)
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1955 film) -- 1955 Soviet film by Yan Frid
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1966 film) -- 1966 Australian television film by Ken Hannam
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1970 film)
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1986 film) -- 1987 Australian film by Neil Armfield
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1988 film)
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (1996 film) -- 1996 film by Trevor Nunn
Wikipedia - Twelfth Night (holiday) -- Christian holiday
Wikipedia - Viola (Twelfth Night) -- character in Twelfth Night
Twelfth Night (1996) ::: 7.2/10 -- Twelfth Night or What You Will (original title) -- Twelfth Night Poster -- Shakespeare's comedy of gender confusion, in which a girl disguises herself as a man to be near the count she adores, only to be pursued by the woman he loves. Director: Trevor Nunn Writers: