Shakespeare Settings of Elizabeth Rudolph
Where the Bee Sucks -
The Tempest
Mallory Harding
Where the Bee Sucks,
There suck I.
In a cowslip's bell I lie.
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly.
After summer, merrily.
Merrily, merrily
Shall I live now,
Under the blossom
That hangs on the bough.
Yellow Sands -
The Tempest
Mallory Harding
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands;
Curtsied when you have, and kissed
The wild waves whist;
Foot it featly here and there,
And sweet sprites bear
The burden.
Hark, hark! Bow-wow,
The watch dogs bark, bow-wow.
Hark hark, I hear,
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry cock a diddle dow.
Full Fathom Five -
The Tempest
Mallory Harding
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them—Ding-dong, bell.
Arise My Love -
Song of Songs
Mallory Harding
Arise (my love).
The winter is past.
The flowers appear on the earth;
The time of singing birds has come.
The voices of frogs are heard in the wilderness.
The fruit trees put forth their flowers.
Arise, my love, and come.
The winter is past. Arise, my love.
Arise.
Willow Song -
Othello
Angela Born
The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing willow, all a green willow.
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, Green willow.
The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her
moans,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Her salt tears fell from her, and softened the
stones—
Sing willow,
Sing willow,
Sing willow,
Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve.
Sing willow, willow, willow;
I called my love false love, but what said he then?
Sing willow, all a green willow.
If I court more women, you’ll couch with more men.
Sing willow, Green willow.
Willow, willow, willow;
Sing willow, willow,
All a green willow must be my garland.
Sing willow,
Sing willow,
Sing willow,
The Cause -
Othello
Dorian McCall
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars.
It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood,
Nor scar her skin smooth as alabaster.
Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light.
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again restore thy former light
Should I repent me. But when I have plucked the rose,
It must wither. I’ll smell it on the tree.
Ah, balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword!
One more, one more.
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee
And love thee after. One more, and this the last.
So sweet was ne’er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears. This sorrow’s heavenly:
It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
Lady Anne's Lament -
Richard III
Victoria Offutt
Set down, set down your honourable load,
If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Poor figure of a holy king!
Pale ash-es of the house of Lancaster!
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes!
Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do't!
Cursed [be] the blood that let this blood from hence!
​
O God, which this blood mad'st, revenge his death!
O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death!
Either heav'n with lightning strike the murd'rer dead,
Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,
As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood
Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!
Queen Margaret's Curse -
Richard III
Alannah Spencer
What were you snarling all before I came,
Ready to catch each other by the throat,
And turn you all your hatred now on me?
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven?
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment,
Could all but answer for that peevish brat?
Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heav'n?
Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
​
If not by war, by surfeit die your king,
As ours by murder, to make him a king!
Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales,
For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales,
Die in his youth by like untimely violence!
Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
Out-live thy glory, like my wretched self!
Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss;
And see another, as I see thee now,
Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!
Long die thy happy days before thy death;
And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,
Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!
​
(But) leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
If heaven have a grievous plague in store
Exceeding those that I can wish up-on thee,
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest,
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream
Af-frights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
Thou elvish mark'd, abortive, rooting hog!
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
The slave of nature and the son of hell!
Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb!
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- Richard!
Queen Elizabeth's Enlightenment -
Richard III
Alex Salas
Thou didst prophesy the time would come
That I should wish for thee to help me curse
That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad!
​
O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile,
And teach me how to curse mine enemies!
My words are dull; O, quicken them with thine!
​
Windy attorneys to their client woes,
Airy succeeders of intestate joys,
Poor breathing orators of miseries!
Let them have scope: though what they do impart
Help not all, yet do they ease the heart.
Weeping Still -
Regan (Imogen)
Alex Salas
Weeping still, say’st thou?
Bring me word Cloten is loved.
I’ll tell the thou art then
as great as Leonate.
Greater. (Pisaniu picks up something Regan dropped.)
Take it for thy labor.
It is a thing I made which hath the crown
five times redeemed from death.
Tell Imogen how the case currently stands.
Think on my words. (Pisaniu exits.)
A constant knave, not to be shaked.
I have given them that which, if taken,
shall quite unpeople Imogen of liegers.
And thereafter, except for bended humor,
Imogen shall taste death too.
How Bravely -
Iachime (Imogen)
Joachim Luis and Rebecca Hass
How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily!
That I might touch! But kiss: one kiss!
But my design to note the chamber...
there the window, such adornment of the bed…
Ah, but some natural notes about your body.
Oh sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull without dreams.
Oh sleep, lie as oblivion. (Iachime takes the bracelet from Imogen’s arm.)
Tis mine, and this will witness outwardly
to the madding of Leonate.
On your left breast a mole cinque spotted,
like the crimson drops in the bottom of a cowslip.
This secret will lead Leo’s thinking
I have pick’d the lock and ta’en the treasure of honor.
I have enough.
To the trunk again and shut the spring of it.
We Are All Bastards -
Leonate (Imogen)
Nicholas Ward
We are all bastards!
This Iachime, in an hour, was’t not?
Or less, at first?
Perchance they spoke not but,
like a full-acorned boar,
cried “Oh!” and mounted;
found no opposition and mounted.
We are all bastards!
And that most venerable man which I did call my father
was I know not where when I was stamp’d.
Some coiner with false tools made me a counterfeit.
Yet my mother seemed the Diane of that time,
so doth my spouse the nonpareil of this.
We are all bastards!
O, Vengeance!
Oh, all the devils!
How of Adultry -
Pisaniu (Imogen)
Angela Born
How? How of adultery?
What monster could accuse such?
Disloyal? NO!
But punished for the truth.
Imogen goes like as a cenobite
through such assaults
as would take in some virtue.
How? That I should murder?
I spill such blood?
How look I, that I should seem to lack humanity
so much as this fact comes to?
“Do it: the letter I have sent,
Imogen’s command,
shall give opportunity.”
Oh, damned paper!
Black as the ink that’s on thee!
For a Horse with Wings -
Imogen (Imogen)
Victoria Offutt
You good gods, let what is here contain’d relish of love,
of Leonate’s health, of content,
yet not that we two are asunder, let that grieve.
Some griefs are medicinable; that is one of them.
Good news, gods!
(Reads Leonate's letter)
“Justice and the sovereign’s wrath,
should they take me in your dominion,
could not be so cruel to me as you,
oh, the dearest of creatures.
The dearest of creatures would even renew me with your eyes.
Take notice that I am in Chavadar at Nari Oleh.
What your own love will out of this advise you, follow.
So I wish you all happiness. That remains loyal to my vow, Leonate”
​
Oh for a horse with wings!
Love is at Nari Oleh!
Tell me how far ‘tis thither.
But first of all, how we may steal from hence
and for the gap that we make in time to excuse.
But, Oh, for a horse with wings!
Love is at Nari Oleh!
Away! Away!
Accessible’s none but Nari way!
Hail Fair Heaven! -
Belariu (Imogen)
Alannah Spencer
Hail thou fair heaven!
Now for our mountain sport.
Oh, this life is nobler than attending for a cheque.
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble.
Prouder than rustling in un-paid-for silk.
(G&A protest)
How you speak!
Did you but know the city’s usuries and felt them knowingly…
Kymbeline loved me, but in one night a storm left me bare to weather.
My fault being nothing but that two villians,
whose false oaths prevail’d before my perfect honor.
Followed my banishment, and twenty years this rock has been my world.
But, up to the mountains!
One that strikes the venison first shall be the lord o’ the feast. (G&A exit.)
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature.
These youths know they are mine.
Although train’d up thus meanly,
their thoughts do hit the roofs of palaces.
Oh, Kymbeline!
Heav’n and my conscience knows thou didst unjustly banish me.
Whereon, at three and two years old, I stole these babes,
thinking to bar thee of succession…
The game is up!
I Love and Hate Gen -
Cloten (Imogen)
David Govertsen
I love and hate Gen:
for they’re fair and royal.
More exquisite than lady, ladies, woman.
Gen outsells them all.
I love them therefore,
but disdaining me and throwing favors
on the low Leonate slanders so their judgement
that what’s else rare is choked
and I will conclude to hate it.
For when fools shall--
Who is here? Come hither! (Pisaniu enters.)
Villain, where is Imogen?
I will not ask again.
Close villain, I’ll have this secret from thy heart
or rip thy heart to find it.
Is Gen with Leonate?
Where is Gen? What is become of them?
Discover where Imogen is at once.
(Pisaniu produces a letter.)
Let’s see it. I will pursue them!
(Cloten reads the letter.)
Villain, is this letter true?
t is Leonate’s hand.
If thou wouldst not be a villain but do me true service,
wilt thou serve me?
Give me thy hand.
Here’s my purse.
Hast any of Leonate’s garments in thy possession?
Fetch that suit hither. (Pisaniu exits.)
Meet thee at Nari Oleh.
Even there, thou villain Leonate, I will kill thee.
Gen said that they held the very garment of Leonate
in more respect than my noble and natural person.
With that suit upon my back will I ravish Gen.
First the mongrel, kill it; dead on the ground.
And when my lust hath dined, to the court I’ll knock ‘em back.
Gen hath despised me and I’ll be merry in my revenge.
Fortune -
Cloten (Imogen)
David Govertsen
I am near to the place where they should meet.
How fit these garments serve me!
The lines of my body are truly well drawn.
No less young, more strong,
not beneath them in fortunes,
above them in birth…
Yet this imperceiverant thing loves THAT in my despite.
What mortality is!
Leonate, thy head shall within this hour be off;
thy Imogen enforced.
All this done,
spurn it home to its monarch,
who may haply be a little angry for my rough usage.
But my model, having power of this testiness,
shall turn all into my commendations.
Fortune, put them into my hand!
Imogen's Lament -
Imogen (Imogen)
Victoria Offutt
A headless corpse!
The garments of Leonate!
I know the shape of this leg, this is love’s hand,
but the jovial face? How?
Tis gone.
Pisaniu, all curses on thee!
Thou, conspired with Cloten,
hast here cut off my love.
Pisaniu? How should this be?
The drug you gave me which you said
was precious and cordial to me,
have I not found it murderous to the senses?
That confirms it.
This is Pisaniu’s deed and Cloten’s.
Oh! Leonate! Alas, where is thy head?
Where’s that? How should this be?
Ay, me! Where is thy head?
Alas, Leonate! How?
Ay, me! Oh, my Leonate!
My Comfort Gone -
Kymbeline (Imogen)
Alannah Spencer
Imogen, the great part of my comfort, gone.
My love, my spouse, upon a desperate bed.
It strikes me past the hope of comfort.
But for thee, who must know of their departure
and dost seem so ignorant,
but for thee, we’ll enforce it from thee.
I Had No Letter -
Pisaniu (Imogen)
Angela Born
I heard no letter from Leonate
since I wrote them Imogen was slain.
‘Tis strange.
Nor hear I from one who did promise
to yield me often tidings.
Neither know I what is betid to Cloten,
but remain perplex’d in all.
Wherein I am false I am honest.
Not true, to be true.
All doubts by time let them be cleared.
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer’d.
Is't Enough I'm Sorry -
Leonate (Imogen)
Nicholas Ward
Sleep, Sleep,
thou hast brought a father to me.
Dreams have revived a mother and two brothers.
Yet, Oh, scorn!
Now I am a wake and they are gone.
Why did I suffer Iachime
to taint to taint my heart with jealousy?
Such vill-an-y!
O, Pisaniu!
Good friends do not all commands.
No bond but to do just ones.
Oh, Imogen!
Yea, bloody cloth, I’ll keep thee.
For I wished you were colored thus.
Gods!
You should have struck me,
wretch well worth your vengeance.
But you snatch some hence for little faults
to have them fall no more.
You some permit to second ills with ills.
But Imogen is your own.
I’ll die for thee, Imogen.
My life is every breath a death.
Is’t enough I’m sorry?
Must I yet repent?
Gods, for Imogen’s dear life take mine.
And although ‘tis not so dear, yet ‘tis a life.
And so great powers,
if you would make this audit take my life.
Glad to be Constrained -
Iachime (Imogen)
Joachim Luis and Rebecca Hass
I am glad to be constrained
to utter that which torments me to conceal.
By villainy I got this ring.
‘Twas Leonate’s jewel, whom thou didst banish.
A nobler human ne’er lived.
That paragon, thy Imogen,
for whom my heart drips blood…
It was in Pesh, ‘twas at a feast,
the good Leonate hearing us praise our loves
for beauty, for feature,
most like a bien aimé in love began Imogen’s picture.
Spake as though this epoux alone were cold.
I wagered ‘gainst this which was worn
upon an honored finger
to win this ring by mine adultry with Imogen.
Leonate, no loss of honor confident,
stakes this ring and might do so safely.
Away to Gherga where I was taught
by your Imogen the wide difference
‘twixt amorous and villainous.
Being thus quenched of hope, not longing,
mine brain began to operate most vilely for my ‘vantage
by wounding true belief in Imogen’s renown.
Leo could not but think the bonds of chastity quite cracked,
I having taken the forfeit.
Methinks I do see Leonate now!