All entries for Friday 30 April 2010
April 30, 2010
Venus and Adonis (available in the handouts given out in the lecture)
If you weren't in the lecture, my recommended online edition is at http://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/Library/plays/Ven.html- though there are hundreds of sites out there, so find one that reads well to you.
As revision, look back through the earlier texts we've studied (Canterbury Tales, sonnets and songs, Faerie Queene, Hero and Leander) and find as many references to the Venus and Adonis myth as you can. Think about how this myth and these characters are being used by the various authors and in different kinds of narrative, and compare this with Shakespeare's use of them in Venus and Adonis. They're two of the most important mythic figures in Renaissance literature, and this will help shape some of your revision reading.
If you would like some extra translation practice, translate the following and I'll be happy to mark it and give you feedback. Either e-mail your work to me, or just bring it to next week's seminar.
Franklin's Tale 4592-4603
Now, goode men, I prey yow herkneth alle:
Lo, how Fortune turneth sodeynly
The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy!
This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak,
In al his drede unto the fox he spak,
And seyde, "Sire, if that I were as ye,
Yet sholde I seyn, as wys God helpe me,
'Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle!
A verray pestilence upon yow falle!
Now I am come unto the wodes syde;
Maygree youre heed, the cok shal heere abyde.
I wol hym ete, in feith, and that anon!'"
Maugree youre heed: in spite of all you can do
Blazon (blason) A poetic catalogue of a woman's admirable physical features, common in Elizabethan lyric poetry: an extended example is Sidney's ‘What tongue can her perfections tell?’ The Petrarchan conventions of the blazon include a listing of parts from the hair down, and the use of hyperbole and simile in describing lips like coral, teeth like pearls, and so on. These conventions are mocked in Shakespeare's famous sonnet, ‘My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun’.
- "blazon" The Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms. Chris Baldick. Oxford University Press, 2008. Oxford Reference Online. Oxford University Press. University of Warwick. 20 April 2010 http://www.oxfordreference.com/views/ENTRY.html?subview=Main&entry=t56.e135]
Here are full texts of the two sets of conventions noted in the definition:
Sir Philip Sidney's "What tongue can her perfections tell?" from The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
What tongue can her perfections tell In whose each part all pens may dwell? Her hair fine threads of finest gold In curled knots man's thought to hold; But that her forehead says, 'in me A whiter beauty you may see." Whiter indeed; more white than snow Which on cold winter's face doth grow. That doth present those even brows, Whose equal lines their angles bows, Like to the moon when after change Her horned head abroad doth range; And arches be to heav'nly lids, Whose wink each bold attempt forbids. For the black stars those spheres contain, The matchless pair, e'en praise doth stain. No lamp whose light by art is got, No sun which shines, and seeth not, Can liken them without all peer, Save one as much as other clear; Which only thus unhappy be Because themselves they cannot see. Her cheeks with kindly claret spread, Aurora-like new out of bed, Or like the fresh queen-apple's side, Blushing at sight of Phoebus' pride. Her nose, her chin, pure ivory wears, No purer than the pretty ears, Save that therein appears some blood, Like wine and milk that mingled stood. In whose incirclets if you gaze Your eyes may tread a lover's maze, But with such turns the voice to stray, No talk untaught can find the way. The tip no jewel needs to wear; The tip is jewel of the ear. But who those ruddy lips can miss, Which blessed still themselves do kiss? Rubies, cherries, and roses new, In worth, in taste, in perfect hue, Which never part but that they show Of precious pearl the double row, The second sweetly-fenced ward Her heav'nly-dewed tongue to guard, Whence never word in vain did flow. Fair under these doth stately grow The handle of this pleasant work, The neck, in which strange graces lurk. Such be, I think, the sumptuous towers Which skill doth make in princes' bowers. So good a say invites the eye A little downward to espy The lovely clusters of her breasts, Of Venus' babe the wanton nests, Like pommels round of marble clear, Where azured veins well mixed appear, With dearest tops of porphyry. Betwixt these two a way doth lie, A way more worthy beauty's fame Than that which bears the milken name. This leads unto the joyous field Which only still doth lilies yield' But lilies such whose native smell The Indian odours doth excel. Waist it is called, for it doth waste Men's lives until it be embraced. There may one see, and yet not see, Her ribs in white well armed be, More white than Neptune's foamy face When struggling rocks he would embrace. In these delights the wand'ring thought Might of each side astray be brought, But that her navel doth unite In curious circle busy sight, A dainty seal of virgin wax Where nothing but impression lacks. Her belly there glad sight doth fill, Justly entitled Cupid's hill; A hill most fit for such a master, A spotless mine of alabaster, Like alabaster fair and sleek, But soft and supple, satin-like, In that sweet seat the boy doth sport. Loath, I must leave his chief resort; For such an use the world hath gotten, The best things still must be forgotten. Yet never shall my song omit Those thighs (for Ovid's song more fit) Which, flanked with two sugared flanks, Lift up their stately swelling banks That Albion cliffs in whiteness pass, with haunches smooth as looking glass. But bow all knees, now of her knees My tongue doth tell what fancy sees: The knots of joy, the gems of love, Whose motion makes all graces move; Whose bought incaved doth yield such sight, Like cunning painter shadowing white. The gart'ring place with childlike sing Shows easy print in metal fine. But there again the flesh doth rise In her brave calves like crystal skies, Whose Atlas is a smallest small, More white than whitest bone of whale. There oft steals out that round clean foot, This noble cedar's precious root; In show and scent pale violets, Whose step on earth all beauty sets. But back unto her back, my muse, Where Leda's swan his feathers mews, Along whose ridge such bones are met, Like comfits round in marchpane set. Her shoulders be like two white doves, Perching within square royal rooves, Which leaded are with silver skin, Passing the hate-spot ermelin. And thence those arms derived are; The phoenix's wings be not so rare For faultless length and stainless hue. Ah, woe is me, my owes renew! Now course doth lead me to her hand, Of my first love the fatal band, Where whiteness doth for ever sit; Nature herself enamelled it. For there with strange compact doth lie Warm snow, moist pearl, soft ivory. There fall those sapphire-coloured brooks, Which conduit-like, with curious crooks, Sweet islands make in that sweet land. As for the fingers of the hand, The bloody shafts of Cupid's war, With amethysts they headed are. Thus hath each part his beauty's part; But how the Graces do impart To all her limbs a special grace, Becoming every time and place, Which doth e'en beauty beautify, And most bewitch the wretched eye! How all this is but a fair inn Of fairer guest which dwells within, Of whose high praise, and praiseful bliss, Goodness the pen, heav'n paper is; The ink immortal fame doth lend. As I began, so must I end: No tongue can her perfections tell In whose each part all pens may dwell.
Shakespeare Sonnet 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips; red;
If snow be white, why then her breats are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
"Blazons" in Hero and Leander
Hero: Lines 5-36
Leander: Lines 51-90
epyllion (plural -llia ) A miniature epic poem, resembling an epic in metre and/or style but not in length. The term dates from the 19th century, when it was applied to certain shorter narrative poems in Greek and Latin, usually dealing with a mythological love story in an elaborately digressive and allusive manner, as in Catullus' poem on Peleus and Thetis. The nearest equivalents in English poetry are the Elizabethan erotic narratives such as Marlowe's Hero and Leander ( 1598 ) and Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis ( 1593 ), although the term has also been applied to later non-erotic works including Arnold's Sohrab and Rustum ( 1853 ).
"epyllion" The Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms. Chris Baldick. Oxford University Press, 2008. Oxford Reference Online. Oxford University Press. University of Warwick. 27 April 2010 http://www.oxfordreference.com/views/ENTRY.html?subview=Main&entry=t56.e412
Ben Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, whose penultimate scene features a puppet show pastiching the story.
LEATHERHEAD (the puppeteer)
This while young Leander with fair Hero is drinking,
And Hero grown drunk, to any man's thinking!
Yet was it not three pints of Sherry could flaw her,
Till Cupid, distinguished like Jonas the drawer,
From under his apron, where his lechery lurks,
put loue in his sack. Now mark how it workes.
O Leander, Leander, my dear, my dear Leander,
I'll forever be thy goose, so thou'lt be my gander.
And sweetest of geese, before I go to bed,
I'll swim o'er the Thames, my goose, thee to tread.
But lest the Thames should be dark, my goose, my dear friend,
Let thy window be provided of a candle's end.
Fear not my gander, I protest I should handle
My matters very ill, if I had not a whole candle.
Well then, look to't, and kiss me to boot.
Shakespeare's As You Like It, with several references to both Marlowe and his poem
Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might:
"Who ever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight?" (III.v.80-1) (Marlowe was often referred to as a shepherd)
When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room. (III.iii.7-9) (widely interpreted as a reference to Marlowe's murder)
Leander, he would have lived many a fair year though Hero had turned nun, it if had not been for a hot midsummer night, for, good youth, he went but forth to wash hiim in the Hellespont and being taken with the cramp was drowned. And the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos'. (IV.i.68-72)
Here are the two extracts from this week's translation test, and some sample answers. First, though, a couple of general tips/reminders.
1) Translate into PROSE, not verse. The reason I keep emphasising this is because it will allow you to see much better the grammar and syntax of your translated version. If you translate into verse, you run the risk of seeing each line as a self-contained unit, and not linking it correctly to the next.
2) Make sure it is MODERN English prose. Read it back to yourself afterwards - if you've let constructions like "It it be so" or "From me turn their hearts away" or "this grace I desire", say it back to yourself and ask yourself if that is really modern English, or if you're preserving archaic forms. This is a judgement call, but it will help you enormously with the next point.
3) Don't just modernise the words. If there's an easy line where all the words are obvious, too many of you are simply modernising the words and leaving them all in the same order. We're asking you to translate; if you just modernise, that's too mechanical, and has a habit of leaving you with archaic-sounding constructions, or sometimes simple nonsense. Even if it looks easy, we still want to see you creating something out of it that shows us you're engaging with the meaning as well as the words.
'For I have wonnen yow hider, wye, at this tyme,
And now nare ye not fer fro that note place
That ye han spied and spured so specially after.
Bot I schal say yow for sothe, sithen I yow know
And ye are a lede upon live that I wel lovie;
Wolde ye worch by my wyt, ye worthed the better.
The place that ye prese to ful perelous is holden.
There wones a wye in that waste the worst upon erthe,
For he is stif and sturn and to strike lovies.'
For I have brought you here, sir, at this time and you are now not far from that well-known place which you have sought and asked after so particularly. But I shall tell you truthfully, since I know you and since you are a living man whom I love well, that if you would act according to my suggestion you would fare better. The place that you are hurrying towards is considered to be very dangerous. A man lives there in that waste land who is the worst on earth, because is he strong and grim and loves to strike.
There are several possible variations. Note 'holden', which many people missed: the place is "held to be", "considered" to be very dangerous - that ambiguity, of course, is deliberate in terms of the (unknown) test Gawain is facing.
KNIGHT'S TALE: 2314-2325
And Palamon, that hath swich love to me,
And eek Arcite, that loveth me so soore,
This grace I preye thee withoute moore,
As sende love and pees bitwixe hem two,
And fro me turne awey hir hertes so
That al hire hoote love and hir desir,
And al hir bisy torment, and hir fir
Be queynt, or turned in another place.
And if so be thou wolt nat do me grace,
Or if my destynee be shapen so
That I shal nedes have oon of hem two,
As sende me hym that moost desireth me.
And as far as concerns Palamon, who has such love for me, and also Arcite who loves me so deeply, I pray you for this favour above anything else, that you should send love and peace between the two of them, and so turn their hearts away from me that all their hot love and desire, and their continual torment and fire should be quenched or directed in another direction. And if it happens that you do not wish to do me this favour or if my fate has been so organised that I must necessarily have one of the two of them, please give me the one who desires me the most.
The passage demanded something at the start to link the first two lines into the construction that follows: I suggested "as regards" to everyone, while the sample suggests "as far as concerns" - this is an example of needing to look at the whole in order to make sense of the individual lines. It's also worth making the distinction between "grace" and "favour" - obviously the passage uses the word "grace", but in modern English the context carries the sense of 'favour', 'reward' or 'request' far more strongly than the kind of 'grace' we discussed in relation to The Faerie Queene.