The Pillar
Neuendorffer
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
<<I looked up at--a black pillar!--such, at least, appeared to me, at
first
sight, the straight, narrow, sable-clad shape standing erect on the rug:
the
grim face at the top was like a carved mask, placed above the shaft by
way of
capital.>>
Agnes Grey - Anne Bronte
<<I still preserve those relics of past sufferings and experience, like
pillars of witness set up in travelling through the vale of life, to
mark
particular occurrences. The footsteps are obliterated now; the face of
the
country may be changed; but the pillar is still there, to remind me how
all
things were when it was reared.>>
The Professor - Charlotte Bronte
<<The very circumstance of her hovering round me like a fascinated bird,
seemed to transform me into a rigid pillar of stone; her flatteries
irritated
my scorn, her blandishments confirmed my reserve.>>
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<<[Isis] turned herself into a swallow and began to fly around the
pillar,
wailing and mourning over her dead husband.>>
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Branwell was Osiris:
<<Osiris was killed by his brother Seth, who shut his body in a chest
and
threw it into the Nile, where it washed up onto the shore and was
trapped in a
huge tree. The King Byblos turned it into a pillar in his palace. Isis
(who
had been searching for her husband) discovered the trunk, and retrieved
the
trunk and the body.>>
http://williamhenry.net/thepillar.htm
http://www.ancientsites.com/~Mirjam_Nebet/myth.html
<<Osiris, the king of Egypt, and Isis, his queen, was beloved by all his
people. He was kind and just and taught them to plow the earth, how to
honour
the gods and he gave them laws to live by. But his brother Seth was
jealous
and plotted against him to take over the throne. One day Osiris held a
big
banquet for his court and as he was kind and just Seth was also invited.
This
was the moment he had long waited for. Together with his accomplices he
could
set his plan in motion. He began to describe a wonderful coffin that he
had
been given, and soon enough he was asked to have it brought in for
people to
see. It was indeed beautiful, made of the finest wood and gilded and
painted.
He promised to give it as a gift to whomever fitted exactly into it. And
as he
already had acquired Osiris´measures, the king was the only one that
fitted
into the coffin, and when he was persuaded into taking place in it,
Seth´s
accomplices quickly nailed the lid to it and while the rest of the court
was
held back, it was taken away and thrown into the Nile where the current
carried it away. Isis was overcome with grief and cut off a length of
her
hair, dressed herself in mourning clothes and went on her way to look
for the
coffin with her husband´s body. She wandered for a long time, weeping
and
searching for the casket, and often she heard rumours that a golden
casket had
been seen floating by some village. So she kept following after until
she left
Egypt and came into the land of Byblos. Here the rumours spoke about a
wonderful tree that suddenly had started to grow on the shore. Isis
understood
then that the coffin had floaten ashore and gotten stuck in a bush.
Nurtured
by the divine presence of Osiris´ body, the bush had sprouted and grown
into a
large tree which the king of Byblos had had cut down and used in the
buildings
of a palace. When Isis reached the place, she was shown to the palace by
the
villagers. She waited outside the palace until she met the Queen´s
maidens.
She told them she was an Egyptian headdresser and pleated their hair and
breathed on them so that a divine scent surrounded them. And they
brought her
before the queen who took a liking to her and asked her to take care of
her
young son, the prince. Soon enough she found the treetrunk that enclosed
her
husband´s coffin. Isis stayed there, and every night while the little
prince
slept, she went into the room where the pillar enclosing the coffin with
her
husband´s body was and she wept and mourned for him. And every day she
looked
after the little prince, and shortly she became so fond of him, that she
decided to make him immortal. In the night she brought him to the pillar
where
the casket was hidden. There she lit a fire and speaking the magic words
she
laid down the sleeping boy in the flames. The fire started to burn away
all
that was human in him, but she did not watch over him, she turned
herself into
a swallow and began to fly around the pillar, wailing and mourning over
her
dead husband. The queen, who slept nearby, was woken up by the sound of
the
flames, and hastened to the room. When she saw her child surrounded with
flames, she raised a cry of horror and the swallow turned into woman
again and
the magical fire died. Isis then revealed herself to the queen and told
her
that now it was impossible for the prince to become immortal. The queen
then
regretted her ignorance and asked how she could repay Isis. And Isis
asked for
the pillar with the coffin. She instantly hewed it into pieces so that
the
coffin could be taken out, then she drenched the bits of wood in oil,
wrapped
them in fine linen and asked the queen to keep them in the temple of
Byblos.
Then she left Byblos by boat and headed for Egypt. After a long journey,
when
she finally could bring the casket ashore by the Nile again, she opened
it and
embraced Osiris and wept for him. He looked as if he was only sleeping.
Then
the coffin was closed again and she continued on her way home through
the
marshlands to bury him.>>
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<<"But they all thought there could be no doubt about Branwell's talent
for
drawing. I have seen an oil painting of his, done I know not when, but
probably about this time. It was a group of his sisters, life size,
three-quarters' length; not much better than sign-painting, as to
manipulation; but the likenesses were, I should think, admirable. I
could
only judge of the fidelity with which the other two were depicted, from
the
striking resemblance which Charlotte, upholding the great frame of
canvas,
and consequently standing right behind it, bore to her own
representation,
though it must have been ten years and more since the portraits were
taken.
The picture was divided, almost in the middle, by a great pillar. On the
side
of the column which was lighted by the sun, stood Charlotte, in the
womanly
dress of that day of gigot sleeves and large collars. On the deeply
shadowed
side, was Emily, and Anne's gentle face resting on her shoulder. Emily's
countenance struck me as full of power; Charlotte's of solicitude;
Anne's of
tenderness. The two younger seemed hardly to have attained their full
growth,
though Emily was taller than Charlotte; they had cropped hair, and a
more
girlish dress. I remember looking on those two sad, earnest, shadowed
faces,
and wondering whether I could trace the mysterious expression which is
said
to foretell an early death. I had some fond superstitious hope that the
column divided their fates from hers, who stood apart in the canvas, as
in
life she survived. I liked to see that the bright side of the pillar was
towards her - that the light in the picture fell on her: I might more
truly
have sought in her presentment - nay, in her living face - for the sign
of
death in her prime. They were good likenesses, however badly executed.
From
thence I should guess his family augured truly that, if Branwell had but
the
opportunity, and, alas! had but the moral qualities, he might turn out a
great painter.">> Elizabeth Gaskell, 'The Life of Charlotte Bronte'
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Pillar, n. [OE. pilerF. pilier, LL. pilare, pilarium, pilarius, fr. L.
pila a
pillar.] 1. The general and popular term for a firm, upright, insulated
support for a superstructure; a pier, column, or post; also, a column or
shaft
not supporting a superstructure, as one erected for a monument or an
ornament.
GENES 35:19 And Rachel died, and was buried in the way to Ephrath,
which
is Bethlehem. And Jacob set a pillar upon her grave: that is the
pillar
of Rachel's grave unto this day.
2. Figuratively, that which resembles such a pillar in appearance,
character,
or office; a supporter or mainstay; as, the Pillars of Hercules; a
pillar of
the state. ``You are a well-deserving pillar.'' --Shak.
>From Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary (easton)
Pillar used to support a building (Judg. 16:26, 29); as a trophy or
memorial
(Gen. 28:18; 35:20; Ex. 24:4; 1 Sam. 15:12, A.V., "place," more
correctly
"monument," or "trophy of victory," as in 2 Sam. 18:18); of fire, by
which the
Divine Presence was manifested (Ex. 13:2). The "plain of the pillar" in
Judg.
9:6 ought to be, as in the Revised Version, the "oak of the pillar",
i.e., of
the monument or stone set up by Joshua (24:26).
REVEL 3:12 Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my
God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him
the name of my God (YH-WH), and the name of the city of my God, which
is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God:
and I will write upon him my new name.
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There are a number of Shakespeare references in the American Bronte's
work
which came out a generation later. Sam WELLer took the place of Bran
WELL.
Little Women(1868) - Louisa May Alcott
<< No one ever regretted the the admittance of Sam Weller, for
a more devoted, well-behaved, and jovial member no club could have.
He certainly did add `spirit' to the meetings, and `a tone' to the
paper, for his orations convulsed his hearers and his contributions
were excellent, being patriotic, classical, comical, or dramatic,
but never sentimental. Jo regarded them as worthy of Bacon, Milton,
or Shakespeare, and remodeled her own works with good effect, she
thought.>>
<<"I don't see how you can write and act such splendid things,
Jo. You're a regular Shakespeare!" exclaimed Beth, who firmly
believed that her sisters were gifted with wonderful genius in all
things.
"Not quite," replied Jo modestly. "I do think THE WITCHES CURSE,
an Operatic Tragedy is rather a nice thing, but I'd like to try
McBETH, if we only had a trapdoor for Banquo. I always wanted to
do the killing part. `Is that a dagger that I see before me?"
muttered Jo, rolling her eyes and clutching at the air, as she had
seen a famous tragedian do.>>
<<"It won't fail. Why, Jo, your stories are works of Shakespeare
compared to half the rubbish that is published every day.
Won't it be fun to see them in print, and shan't we feel proud of
our authoress?">>
<<Speaking of books reminds me that I'm getting rich in that
line, for on New Year's Day Mr. Bhaer gave me a fine Shakespeare.
It is one he values much, and I've often admired it,
set up in the place of honor with his German Bible, Plato,
Homer, and Milton, so you may imagine how I felt when he brought
it down, without its cover, and showed me my own name in it,
"from my friend Friedrich Bhaer".
"You say often you wish a library. Here I gif you one, for
between these lids (he meant covers) is many books in one. Read
him well, and he will help you much, for the study of character
in this book will help you to read it in the world and paint it
with your pen."
I thanked him as well as I could, and talk now about `my
library', as if I had a hundred books. I never knew how much
there was in Shakespeare before, but then I never had a Bhaer
to explain it to me.>>
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Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888)
<<Louisa May Alcott was born on November 29, 1832, in Germantown,
Pennsy.
When she was almost 2 years old, Louisa's family moved to Massachusetts,
the state where she lived the bulk of her life. The family moved many
times
over the years, usually back and forth between Boston and Concord
(Mass.).
Some notable places Louisa lived were "Fruitlands" in Harvard,
Massachusetts;
"Hillside" in Concord; and "Orchard House," also in Concord.
"Fruitlands" was
the site of her father's attempt at Utopian living, which she wrote
about in
Transcendental Wild Oats, thirty years later in 1873. Louisa's childhood
at
"Hillside" (later renamed "Wayside" by Nathaniel Hawthorne, when he
lived
there) served as the basis for the action in her most popular novel,
Little
Women, which she wrote as an adult living in "Orchard House."
Interestingly,
these latter two houses were located next door to each other, with a
walking
path through the woods between. They are both still standing and open
for
tours in Concord.>>
Her Family
<<Louisa May Alcott's father, Amos Bronson Alcott, was an
important--though
controversial--man in his times and in his community. He is perhaps best
known
for being a philosopher and an education reformer, but he was also a
leader in
the Transcendentalist movement as well as a teacher, school
superintendent,
and an author [Moore and Dapper]. He established both the TEMPLE School,
in
Boston, and the Concord School of Philosophy. Although he was a loving
father,
he was not very responsible or practical, so Louisa's mother, Abigail
May
Alcott, filled the role of "head of household". Just like Jo, the
protagonist
in her Little Women, Louisa had three sisters--one older (Anna Bronson
Alcott)
and two younger (Elizabeth "Lizzie" Sewall Alcott and Abba May Alcott).
And,
much like Jo's sister Beth, Lizzie died at age 22 from complications of
scarlet fever. But, unlike Jo, Louisa also had a little brother, who
died as
an infant [Dapper].>>
Her Writing Career
<<Louisa May Alcott was a versatile writer who started at an early age.
At
the encouragement of her father, she kept a diary as a child--which
probably
helped her to discover her love and talent for writing and surely
provided
ideas later for her various plots and characters. Ms. Alcott is best
known for
a different novel, Little Women, which she wrote in two parts. The first
volume, alternately titled Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, was published in
1868, and
the second volume, Good Wives, was published in 1869. Like Jo in Little
Women,
Louisa also wrote many "blood and thunder" tales, which were published
in
popular periodicals of the day. She did not openly claim authorship for
many
of these Gothic thriller stories, however: for some, she used the
pseudonym,
"A. M. Barnard"; for others, she chose to remain completely anonymous.>>
Her Adult Life
<<Louisa Alcott was an avid social reformer. Abolition, temperance, and
educational reform were among her chosen causes. But being a feminist at
heart, she especially fought for women's rights, including suffrage. In
fact,
she was the first woman to register to vote in Concord [MacDonald and
Moore].
Unlike Jo in her Little Women, Louisa May Alcott never married. She died
at
age 55 on March 6, 1888, (two days after her father) and is buried on
"Authors' Ridge" in Concord's Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, with her family.
Nearby
are the graves of her friends and mentors Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel
Hawthorne, and Henry David Thoreau.>>
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Art Neuendorffer
Neuendorffer
http://www.npg.org.uk/1725.htm
<<Branwell had originally put himself in [his painting of his sisters],
then decided to remove his likeness by painting [a pillar] over it. This
paint is now fading, revealing Branwell's ghostly image.>>
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/LeftBank/8723/bronte.html
NONE of the Bronte women have their hands showing!
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"[Anne Bronte] left her home May 24th, 1849--died May 28th.
http://www.owlsdottir.com/may.html#24
May 24 The celebration of the Three Mothers was observed annually on
or around this date each year in Celtic countries, which honored the
Triple Goddess, who brought prosperity and a good harvest. The Three
Mothers or Triple Goddess are known world round in many cultures, and
represent the three stages of life. This triad also symbolizes the three
phases of the Moon: Crescent, Full and Dark. The Goddesses are most
often known by the titles of Maid, Mother and Crone.
This is also the feast day of Hermes Trismegistus, patron of alchemy
May 26 - Sacred Well Day - By tradition Airmed tended a sacred well
that the dead were placed in to be returned to life. On this day, it is
traditional for to decorate sacred wells with wreaths and toss
offerings of flowers into the water in honor of the deities and spirits
of the well.
http://williamhenry.net/thepillar.htm
http://www.ancientsites.com/~Mirjam_Nebet/myth.html
the wallow turned into woman again and the magical fire died. Isis then
Pennsylvania. When she was almost 2 years old, Louisa's family moved to
Her Family
had a little brother, who died as an infant.>>
Her Writing Career
<<Louisa May Alcott was a versatile writer who started at an early age.
At the encouragement of her father, she kept a diary as a child--which
probably helped her to discover her love and talent for writing and
surely provided ideas later for her various plots and characters. Ms.
Alcott is best known for a different novel, Little Women, which she
wrote in two parts. The first volume, alternately titled Meg, Jo, Beth,
and Amy, was published in 1868, and the second volume, Good Wives, was
published in 1869. Like Jo in Little Women, Louisa also wrote many
"blood and thunder" tales, which were published in popular periodicals
of the day. She did not openly claim authorship for many of these Gothic
thriller stories, however: for some, she used the pseudonym, "A. M.
Barnard"; for others, she chose to remain completely anonymous.>>
Her Adult Life
<<Louisa Alcott was an avid social reformer. Abolition, temperance, and
educational reform were among her chosen causes. But being a feminist at
heart, she especially fought for women's rights, including suffrage. In
fact, she was the first woman to register to vote in Concord. Unlike Jo
Neuendorffer
Anne died away from home with no apparent funeral at all!
Emily died (on Opalia!) away from doctors with only immediate family and
Keeper her (3 headed?) bulldog attending the funeral.
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Saturnalia/Opalia December 19
<<Ops (Opis) The Roman goddess of the earth as a source of fertility,
and a goddess of abundance and wealth in general (her name means
"plenty"). As goddess of harvest she is closely associated with the god
Consus. She is the sister and wife of Saturn. One of her temples was
located near Saturn's temple, and on August 10 a festival took place
there. Another festival was the Opalia, which was observed on December
19. On the Forum Romanum she shared a sanctuary with the goddess Ceres
as the protectors of the harvest. The major temple was of Ops
Capitolina, on the Capitoline Hill, where Caesar had located the
Treasury. Another sanctuary was located in the Regia on the Forum
Romanun, where also the Opiconsivia was observed on August 25. Only the
official priests and the Vestal Virgins had access to this altar.>>
<<With the return of Spring the Graces delighted in mingling with the
nymphs, forming with them groups of dancers who tripped the ground with
nimble step. This was because these divinities- in whom some have seen a
personification of the sun's rays, but who were originally
nature-goddesses also presided over the BUDDing of plant-life and the
ripening of fruits (See the Allegory of Spring by Botticelli).>>
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Elizabeth Gaskell - Emily's death
<<Many a time did Charlotte and Anne drop their SEWING, or cease from
their writing, to listen with wrung hearts to the failing step, the
laboured breathing, the frequent pauses, with which their sister climbed
the short staircase; yet they dared not notice what they observed, with
pangs of suffering even deeper than hers. They dared not notice it in
words, far less by the caressing assistance of a helping arm or hand.
They sat , still and silent.
"Nov. 23rd, 1848, I told you Emily was ill, . . . she resolutely refuses
to see a doctor; she will give no explanation of her feelings, she will
scarcely allow her feelings to be alluded to."
When a doctor had been sent for, and was in the very house, Emily
refused to see him. Her sisters could only describe to him what symptoms
they had observed; and the medicines which he sent she would not take,
denying that she was ill.
"Dec. 10th, 1848, ". . . she declares 'no poisoning doctor' shall come
near her,--I have written unknown to her, to an eminent physician in
London, giving as minute a statement of her case and symptoms as I could
draw up, and requesting an opinion. I expect an answer in a day or two.
But Emily was growing rapidly worse. I remember Miss Bronte's shiver at
recalling the pang she felt when, after having searched in the little
hollows and sheltered crevices of the moors for a lingering spray of
heather--just one spray, however withered--to take in to Emily, she saw
that the flower was not recognised by the dim and indifferent eyes. Yet,
to the last, Emily adhered tenaciously to her habits of independence.
She would suffer no one to assist her. Any effort to do so roused the
old stern spirit. One Tuesday morning, in December, she arose and
dressed herself as usual, making many a pause, but doing everything for
herself, and even endeavouring to take up her employment of SEWING. . .
"Tuesday. [Opalia Dec. 19th, 1848]
The morning drew on to noon. Emily was worse : she could only whisper in
gasps. Now, when it was too late, she said to Charlotte, "If you will
send for a doctor, I will see him now." About two o'clock she died.
"Dec. 21st, 1848, "Emily suffers no more from pain or weakness now. She
never will suffer more in this world. She is gone, after a hard short
conflict. She died on Tuesday, the very day I wrote to you. I thought it
very possible she might be with us still for weeks; and a few hours
afterwards, she was in eternity. Yes; there is no Emily in time or on
earth now. Yesterday we put her poor, wasted, mortal frame quietly under
the church pavement. We are very calm at present. Why should we be
otherwise? The anguish of seeing her suffer is over; the spectacle of
the pains of death is gone by; the funeral day is past. We feel she is
at peace. No need now to tremble for the hard frost and the keen wind.
Emily does not feel them."
As the old, bereaved father and his two surviving children followed the
coffin to the grave, they were joined by Keeper, Emily's fierce,
faithful bull-dog. He walked alongside of the mourners, and into the
church, and stayed quietly there all the time that the burial service
was being read. When he came home, he lay down at Emily's chamber door,
and howled pitifully for many days. Anne Bronte drooped and sickened
more rapidly from that time; and so ended the year 1848.
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Elizabeth Gaskell - Anne's death
"[Anne] left her home May 24th, 1849--died May 28th
"The night was passed without any apparent accession of illness. She
rose at seven o'clock, and performed most of her toilet herself, by her
expressed wish. Her sister always yielded such points, believing it was
the truest kindness not to press inability when it was not acknowledged.
Nothing occurred to excite alarm till about 11 A.M. She then spoke of
feeling a change.' She believed she had not long to live. Could she
reach home alive, if we prepared immediately for departure?' A physician
was sent for. Her address to him was made with perfect composure. She
begged him to say ' How long he thought she might live;--not to fear
speaking the truth) for she was not afraid to die.' The doctor
reluctantly admitted that the angel of death was already arrived, and
that life was ebbing fast. She thanked him for his truthfulness, and he
departed to come again very soon.
With calmness, came the consideration of the removal of the dear remains
to their home resting-place. This melancholy task, however, was never
performed; for the afflicted sister decided to lay the FLOWER in the
place where it had fallen. She believed that to do so would accord with
the wishes of the departed. She had no preference for place. She thought
not of the grave, for that is but the body's goal, but of all that is
beyond it.
"Her remains rest,
'Where the south sun warms the now dear sod,
Where the ocean billows lave and strike the steep and turf-covered
rock.'"
Anne died on the Monday. On the Tuesday Charlotte wrote to her father ;
but, knowing that his presence was required for some annual Church
solemnity at Haworth, she informed him that she had made all necessary
arrangements for the interment and that the funeral would take place so
soon, that he could hardly arrive in time for it. The surgeon who had
visited Anne on the day of her death, offered his attendance, but it was
respectfully declined.>>
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Elizabeth Gaskell - Charlotte's death
<<Early on Saturday morning, March 31st [1855], the solemn tolling of
Haworth church-bell spoke forth the fact of her death to the villagers
who had known her from a child, and whose hearts shivered within them as
they thought of the two sitting desolate and alone in the old grey
house.
Few beyond that circle of hills knew that she, whom the nations praised
far off, lay dead that EASTER mooring [April fool's day?]. Of kith and
kin she had more in the grave to which she was soon to be borne, than
among the living. The two mourners, stunned with their great grief,
desired not the sympathy of strangers. One member out of most of the
families in the parish was bidden to the funeral; and it became an act
of self-denial in many a poor household to give up to another the
privilege of paying their last homage to her; and those who were
excluded from the formal train of mourners thronged the churchyard and
church, to see carried forth, and laid beside her own people, her whom,
not many months ago, they had looked at as a pale white bride, entering
on a new life with trembling happy hope.
Among those humble friends who passionately grieved over the dead, was a
village girl who had been seduced some little time before, but who had
found a holy sister in Charlotte. She had sheltered her with her help,
her counsel, her strengthening words; had ministered to her needs in her
time of trial. Bitter, bitter was the grief of this poor young woman,
when she heard that her friend was sick unto death, and deep is her
mourning until this day. A blind girl, living some four miles from
Haworth, loved Mrs. Nicholls so dearly that, with many cries and
entreaties, she implored those about her to lead her along the roads,
and over the moor-paths, that she might hear the last solemn words,
"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope
of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ.">>
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Art Neuendorffer
Neuendorffer
> Schoenbaum, in WS: Records and Images, records that Simon Forman died
> on Thursday, September 8, 1611. To quote Schoenbaum,
> "after dinner, feeling very well, [Forman] took a pair of oars
> at Southwark to cross to Puddle Dock. While rowing in mid-stream
> he collapsed, crying 'An IMPOST, an IMPOST', and died.
> ------------------------------------------------------------------
> IMPOST, n. [OF. impost, F. impot, LL. impostus, fr. L. impostus,
> p. p. of imponere to impose.] 1. That which is imposed or levied; a
> tax, tribute, or duty; especially, a duty or tax laid by goverment on
> goods imported into a country.
> 2. (Arch.) The top member of a PILLAR, pier, wall, etc.,
> upon which the weight of an arch rests.
> ------------------------------------------------------------------
King Henry VI, Part ii Act 4, Scene 1
Captain Pool! Sir Pool! lord!
Ay, kennel, PUDDLE, sink; whose filth and dirt
Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
For swallowing the treasure of the realm:
Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground;
And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's death,
Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again:
And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
For daring to affy a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
By devilish policy art thou grown great,
And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged
With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
The false revolting Normans thorough thee
Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts,
And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
As hating thee, are rising up in arms:
And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
By shameful murder of a guiltless king
And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colours
Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine,
Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
The commons here in Kent are up in arms:
And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
Is crept into the palace of our king.
And all by thee. Away! convey him hence.
Cymbeline Act 3, Scene 4
IMOGEN Where then
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain? I' the world's volume
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in 't;
In a great pool a swan's nest: prithee, think
There's livers out of Britain.
The Tempest Act 4, Scene 1
ARIEL I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So fun of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabour;
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd
their ears,
Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears
That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,
Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them
I' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
O'erstunk their feet.
TRINCULO Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,--
King Lear Act 3, Scene 4
EDGAR Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad,
the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in
the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages,
eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and
the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the
standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to
tithing, and stock- punished, and imprisoned; who
hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his
body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear;
But mice and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!