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The words of Mercury, are harsh...

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David Hugill

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Jan 10, 2001, 5:15:50 AM1/10/01
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In the first quarto of LLL, 1598, and in the later folio of the plays,
the last sentence is; The words of Mercurie, are harsh after the songes
of Apollo.
Has anyone an explanation of this?
--
David Hugill

Janet T. O'Keefe

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Jan 11, 2001, 12:14:39 PM1/11/01
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In article <P24qyIAW...@smole.demon.co.uk>,
There is more than one way to read this in terms of the myths. Apollo
was the God of music, so naturally his songs would be expected to be
extraordinary. Mercury was a God of many things, including liars,
cheats and thieves, speed, and language. He was also the messenger of
the Gods, particularly of Jupiter, since Juno had her own messenger.
However, I think the job that is really relevant here is that Mercury
was the psychopomp, the conductor of souls to Hades (sorry, can't
remember the equivalent Roman term at the moment). The harshness of
his words may refer to death after enjoying the highest pleasure of
music, that is Apollo's song.

At the back of my mind I can remember a myth of a contest between
Apollo and Mercury when Mercury was still a child. I know that either
Apollo won or that Mercury won by rigging the vote. I would have to
look it up again to be sure, but the line you quoted might refer to
that as well. Anyway, those are a couple possibilities for you to
consider.

Janet
--
"Not surprisingly, German has a word for it: Kinderfeindlichkeit."
Andrew Hacker in The New York Review of Books


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David Hugill

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Jan 11, 2001, 6:34:05 PM1/11/01
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In article <93kplj$ccp$1...@nnrp1.deja.com>, Janet T. O'Keefe
<j_t_o...@my-deja.com> writes
Janet; Thank you for the response, I was wondering if anyone had a
idea. My question however, is really about why these two 'gods' are
relevant to the play LLL? How does it fit in? The sentence seems to be
an epilogue. We know his friends liken Shakespeare to Mercury - Ben
Jonson in the Folio. What reason to contrast them?
--
David Hugill

David Hugill

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Jan 14, 2001, 12:07:57 PM1/14/01
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In article <fh2eXDAt...@smole.demon.co.uk>, David Hugill
<da...@smole.demon.co.uk> writes

I suspect the problem with this epilogue is that most analysts can not
set it and the play in the correct time and location. Note that the
first appearance of this play in print was as a Quarto in 1598. It was
printed with W S's name and was advertised as 'newly corrected and
augmented by W Shakespeare'. Clearly it had been first shown some time
before. The line in question was printed in larger type than the rest
of the Quarto and separated from the text by not having a speech heading
to show who would speak the line. This line looks to be a statement by
Shakespeare himself to catch the reader's eye.

If then we recognise that LLL was a leap year love play where women were
in the ascendant, the possible years before 1598 are 1596, 1592 and
1588. WS was 20 in 1584 probably too young but still perhaps possible.
The other characteristic of the play is that is full of legal references
which would suggest a play for one of the Inns of Court, for a Christmas
entertainment. If so we should look for scenes mocking the great and
the good of the time, as part of the style of these entertainments. I
am sure that the only date which will fit is 1588 and which will allow
for a full explanation of the 'epilogue'.

--
David Hugill

David Hugill

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Jan 17, 2001, 2:36:45 PM1/17/01
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In article <nY5ApAAt...@smole.demon.co.uk>, David Hugill

The key to this date is to recognise that Shakespeare belonged to the
company of Ferdinando Lord Strange until Strange's death in 1594.
Strange was of noble birth and very rich. He had become the richest
subject in England when his father died and he succeeded to the earldom.
His family had been linked to Grays inn in previous generations and the
play was acted at Grays. In the play Strange is alluded to many times
particularly in the name for the King of Navarre when no king had had
the name Ferdinand. There are many other points that indicate Lord
Strange for example the repetition of strange strangers and the like,
and an explanation of the phrase 'unpeeled house' This relates to Lord
Strange being the King of The Isle of Man. On that island and in
northern britain a Peel tower was a defensive addition to a house.
there is a town called Peel on the Isle.
The ruler of the 12 days of Christmas in that year was William
Hatcliffe, Prince of Purpoole in the role of Appolo and the poet
Shakespeare in the role of Mercury.
>
>
I am looking to find anyone who can provide a better explanation for the
LLL epilogue.

--
David Hugill

Neuendorffer

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Jan 17, 2001, 6:10:44 PM1/17/01
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-------------------------------------------------------------------

David Hugill wrote:
>
> Shakespeare belonged to the company of Ferdinando
> Lord Strange until Strange's death in 1594.
> Strange was of noble birth and very rich. He had become the richest
> subject in England when his father died and he succeeded to the earldom.
> His family had been linked to Grays inn in previous generations and the
> play was acted at Grays. In the play Strange is alluded to many times
> particularly in the name for the King of Navarre when no king had had
> the name Ferdinand. There are many other points that indicate Lord
> Strange for example the repetition of strange strangers and the like,
> and an explanation of the phrase 'unpeeled house' This relates to Lord
> Strange being the King of The Isle of Man. On that island and in
> northern britain a Peel tower was a defensive addition to a house.
> there is a town called Peel on the Isle.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
http://www.mcb.net/iom/peelcast.html

<<Peel Castle and the early cathedral are situated on St Patricks Isle
at the mouth of the river Neb. Recent excavation at the site show
continued occupancy for over 2000 years. The Isle standing at the
entrance to a good natural harbour, and the only sheltered port on the
west coast of the Island, makes it an obvious site for the erection of a
stronghold designed for the protection of ships sheltering their. It is
thought that Magnus Barefoot probably erected a timber peel or fortress
there soon after his arrival in 1089.

There are indications that St Patrick's Isle was the principal residence
of the Kings of Man and the surrounding Isles until the first half of
the thirteenth century. King Godred II died there in 1187 as did his
son, Olaf II in 1237. In 1392 Sir William le Scrope who held the Isle,
built the red sandstone gate tower. The work was intended to afford
protection to the adjoining Cathederal which was also repaired at that
time. These repairs probably included the embattling of the Cathederal
Tower and of the old Round Tower.

The age of the wall, built of large blocks of locally quarried grey
slate, is not definitely known but it was probably constructed by the
Stanleys somewhere about 1500 as an added defence against raids from the
Scots and other enemies. The Derby's maintained a garrison here as well
as at Castle Rushen. Then in 1651 a rising of the Manx against the
Royalist Lord of the Island secured its fall, and from that time both
the Castle and Cathederal gradually fell into ruin.

The fortress was frequently used as a place of exile for State
prisoners. In 1397, Richard II having reason to believe that his uncle,
the Duke of Gloucester, and the Earls of Arundel and Warwick were
conspiring against him, banished the Duke to Calais, where he died, and
sent the two earls to the Tower, there to await the headsman. The
sentence in the case of the Earl of Warwick was commuted to perpetual
imprisonment in the Isle of Man, without this realm, for the term of his
life. When Richard was murdered in Bloody Pomfret, Bollingbroke at once
reversed the attainder and Warwick was recalled.

About 50 years later in 1444 Eleanor, wife of Good Duke Humphrey of
Gloucester was accused of treason, for that she, by sorcery and
enchantment, intended to destroy the King (Henry VI), to the intent to
advance and to promote her husband to the crown. The Duke's chaplain,
Roger Bolingbroke, was addicted to the study of astrology, and was,
therefore, according to popular notions a wizard. It was alleged that
the duchess, Bollingbroke, two priests and a woman, Marjery Jourdemain,
better known as the Witch of Eye, practised magical arts for the purpose
of bringing about the death of the King. She was deported to the Isle of
Man from where she attempted to make several unsuccessful escapes before
dying in 1545.>>
-------------------------------------------------------------------
<<Traces of occupants of the Isle of Mann from the Neolithic exist. Of
interest are ancient crosses and other stone monuments, a round tower,
an old fort, and castles. Occupied by Vikings in the 9th cent., the
island was a dependency of Norway until 1266, when it passed to
Scotland. From the 14th to the 18th cent. (except for brief periods when
it reverted to the English crown) it belonged to the earls of Salisbury
and of Derby. Since 1765, when Parliament purchased it from the Duke of
Atholl, the Isle has been a dependency of the crown, but it is not
subject to acts of the British Parliament. The Tynwald, the Isle of
Man’s legislature, is the world’s oldest continuous legislative
assembly.>> -- Columbia Encyclopedia
-------------------------------------------------------------------
http://celt.net/Celtic/celtopedia/m.html

<<MODDEY DHOO MAUTHE DOOG (moor tha do) The most famous of the Black
Dogs of the Isle of Man was the Moddey Dhoo or Mauthe Doog of Peel
Castle, made famous by Walter Scott. In the seventeenth century when the
castle was garrisoned, a great, shaggy black dog used to come silently
into the guardroom and stretch himself there. No one knew whom he
belonged to nor how he came, and he looked so strange that no one dared
to speak to him, and the soldiers always went in pairs to carry the keys
to the governor's room after the castle was locked up. At length one
man, the worse for drink, taunted his companions and mocked the dog. He
snatched up the keys, dared the dog to follow him, and rushed out of the
room alone. The dog got up and padded after him, and presently a
terrible scream was heard and the man staggered back, pale, silent,
shuddering. The dog was never seen again, but after three days of silent
horror the man died. That was the last thing seen of the Mauthe Doog,
but the Moddey Dhoo persists to modern times.>>
-------------------------------------------------------------------
THE CASTLE
http://www.iom.com/peel/castle.htm

<<The first construction of a fort on St Patrick's Isle, that we know
of, was begun in the year 1098, by King Magnus Barefoot of Norway who
had a timber stockade erected there. Another significant find by the
Liverpool group was possibly part of this stockade - a rough foundation
wall found at a depth of 5 metres, just inside the present Castle wall.
This timber fort was superseded firstly in the 14th century by stone
flanking towers and by the present stone walls in the 15th. In fact, it
is one of these stone three-storeyed towers, the gatehouse, a peel
tower, that gave the Town its name. The earliest stonework in Peel
Castle is of red sandstone, while the largest stretch of the encircling
walls and flanking towers are of slate, which was quarried from St
Patrick's Isle itself. King Magnus's fort of 1098 became the capital of
the Kingdon of Mann and the Isles, which was subordinate to the Kingdom
of Norway. Its strategic position controlling the Irish Sea led to much
of the wrangling over the Isle of Man which took place over the next 250
years. Magnus's Kingdom passed to his descendants until its collapse in
1266 when Scotland took over. England became interested and after the
island changed hands several times, the latter finally succeeded in
taking over in 1333. About 60 years later the building of the stone
Castle began. The Castle now housed a garrison maintained by the English
aristocrats who became the new Kings of Mann. This title became Lord of
Mann in 1405, with the rule of the Stanley family, Earls of Derby, which
was to last until 1736, when the Lordship passed to the second Duke of
Atholl. The Derbys made more use of Castle Rushen as a residence,
eventually giving up Peel to the Church. Peel Castle had use as a prison
for many years, for both political and criminal prisoners. This was were
Edward Christian, Lieutenant Governor of the Island, died in 1771, after
being imprisoned here twice. The Cathedral crypt was used as a prison by
the Ecclesiastical Court for those who committed adultery or desecrated
the Sabbath by playing musical instruments, worked in the fields or
unloaded a ship's cargo. Sentences lasting a few days would be enough to
deter most people, for the crypt is a miserable place even on the
warmest of days. Sir Walter Scott's novel "Peveril of the Peak" is set
in Peel Castle, resulting in his heroine Fenella giving her name to one
of the flanking towers and to the little shore between St Patrick's Isle
and Peel Hill. Shakespeare's Countess of Gloucester being kept here for
practising witchcraft is not subtantiated. St Patrick's Isle retained
its religious importance which became centered on St German's Cathedral,
which more than likely was built on a keeill site. This probably became
a place of pilgrimage, sheltering relics of St German. The ruined
Cathedral, which stands in the south eastern part of the Castle, dates
from the 12th, 13th, and 14th centuries. It was the Cathedral Church of
the diocese of Sodor and Mann, today, the smallest and oldest see in the
Anglican Church. Here "Sodor" means the southern Hebridean Isles - those
of the Norse Kingdom of Mann and the Isles. While his Cathedral was in
Peel Castle, at least from the end of the 14th century, the Bishop
resided in Bishop's Court, some 8 miles to the north east of Peel.
Because even travelling that short distance was impossible at times, he
also had a house in Peel ,the central one of the three imposing medieval
houses in Castle Street. Besides being the seat of government, housing a
military garrison and being used as a prison, Peel Castle was also the
ecclesiastical centre of the diocese. However, by the mid seventeenth
century, only the Church maintained a presence in the Castle. The last
enthronement in the Cathedral was that of Bishop Crigan in 1795 shows
the roof of the abandoned building still intact, but the last roof
timbers fell in 1824, during a storm. Almost 200 years were to pass
before the Island had a replacement Cathedral, in the shape of St
German's Parish Church. Renovations to the old Cathedral were mooted in
1870 by Bishop Rowley and around that time, some repairs were carried
after the initiative of Governor Loch. Plans for renovations suggested
in the 1970's came to naught. The year 1982 saw the beginning of the
Liverpool University excavation of the area immediately to the north of
the Cathedral. A trial dig in the prison exercise yard was so successful
that it expanded into a teaching dig, which overran its planned five
year lifespan. Under the supervision of qualified archaeologists,
several hundred participants, resident Manx and people form elsewhere,
including the USA, took part in the dig which attracted worldwide
attention. The important discoveries, some of which are mentioned above,
have changed many attitudes on the history of Peel Castle and haved
placed it amongst the most important archaeological sites.>>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
http://www.ee.surrey.ac.uk/Contrib/manx/fulltext/cw1899/ch06.htm

CHAPTER VI. PAWNING THE ISLE OF MAN — FIRST SALE OF THE ISLAND
— GRANT OF MONA TO THE STANLEY FAMILY.

<<ALEXANDER OF SCOTLAND, wishing to make sure of his sovereignty of Man,
entered into a treaty at Perth, in 1266 A.D., with Magnus VI., King of
Norway, the successor of Hacon Hakonson, in which Magnus ceded to him
all his claims and interest in the sovereignty and episcopacy of Man for
the sum of 4,000 marks, to be paid in four yearly instalments of 1,000
marks each, and an annual pension of 100 marks. Alexander, however, had
very great difficulties in getting the Manx themselves to accede to this
arrangement, which was the first sale of the island. He had to send a
powerful army, under the command of Alexander Stuart, of Paisley, to
reduce them to a state of obedience.

Stuart fought a decisive battle at Ronaldsway, where the Manx were badly
beaten, losing five hundred gentlemen of the best families, and their
leader, Ivan the Bold.

On establishing his authority, Alexander, in token of his conquest,
abolished the ancient armorial ensign of the island—the ship with the
motto Rex Mannae et Insularem, substituting the more ancient device of
the Three Legs.

It was a long time before the Manx settled down quietly under their new
Scottish rulers. The Scottish Kings governed the island by nobles or
Thanes, the generality of whom were so tyrannical that at last the Manx
rose in revolt in very considerable numbers, and when the two armies
were drawn up before each other, the Bishop, Marcus Galvadiensio, a
Scotch-man, interfered to prevent bloodshed, and obtained the mutual
consent of both parties to decide the contest by thirty champions on
each side. The contest took place, and extraordinary feats of heroism
were performed on both sides. The Manx champions were all slain, and
twenty-five of the Scottish champions perished also. This affair settled
the matter, and the people quietly submitted to their fate.

On the death of Alexander of Scotland, the contentions of Bruce and
Baliol gave Edward I. of England the opportunity of seizing the Isle of
Man for a period; and in the meantime two claimants for the Manx crown
appeared in the field—both females. The first lady was Mary, daughter of
Reginald III.; the other was Alfrida, a daughter of Olaf III., the
Black, King of Man. This latter lady was married to an English nobleman,
Sir Simon de Montacute, and in her favour the all-powerful Edward I.
decided. Their son, Sir William de Montacute, a reckless young
gentleman—a sort of medieval fast young man hanging around the English
Court—having overrun the constable, mortgaged the island and its revenue
to his ‘uncle,’ Anthony Beck, Bishop of Durham and Patriarch of
Jerusalem, to whom the King of England afterwards made a grant of it for
his life. This is believed to be the first recorded instance of a
hard-up gentleman depositing his property with his ‘uncle’ as security
for cash advanced. If they have not already done so, and they think they
require a patron saint, it would not be amiss for the pawn brokers to
adopt this Bishop Anthony Beck for the purpose, as they have already
done by taking the arms of Lombardy for their sign.

The avuncular Bishop enjoyed his security for just seventeen years, when
he was gathered to his fathers. As the fast-living Sir William de
Montacute was either dead or in too great difficulties to show up, and
his son and heir was but an infant of tender years, the reigning King of
England, Edward II., who was noted for his generosity to his favourites—
especially when he had the opportunity of exercising it with other
people’s property—presented the Isle of Man successively to his
proteges, Piers de Gaveston, Gilbert MacGaskell, and Henry de Beaumont.

Not one of these Court butterflies cared about being a resident King of
Man, much preferring to spend what moneys the revenues afforded them in
the gaieties of London. Consequently Man presented a good opportunity
for the energetic Bruce, who, in 1313 A.D., made a descent upon it, and
besieged the English garrison in Castle Rushen. This fortress, however,
was gallantly defended by Dougall MacDoul for a period of six months,
before he and his brave men surrendered. On the English garrison being
at length driven out of the island, Bruce, King of Scotland, presented
the crown of Man to his nephew, Randolph, Earl of Murray.

In the following reign of Edward III. of England, known as the ‘Hammer
of Scotland,’ Man again fell into English hands. Mary de Waldefeof, a
lady, presented her claims to the English King. Edward had other and
much weightier matters on hand to attend to, but managed to find time to
very speedily settle the claims of both aspirants of the rival houses.
He united them by giving the Lady Mary de Waldefeof in marriage to
William de Montacute, Earl of Salisbury, the grandson of Sir Simon de
Montacute and Alfrida, the daughter of King Olaf the Black. In the year
1344 A.D., the Earl and Countess of Salisbury were crowned King and
Queen of Man, with great pomp and ceremony, in the Cathedral of St.
Germain’s, in Peel Castle. The Salisbury family set but little store on
their insular throne, for in 1393 A.D. the chronicles inform us that the
Earl of Salisbury, son of the one who married Mary de Waldefeof, sold to
William de Scroop, afterwards Earl of Wiltshire, the Isle of Man, with
the title of King, and the right of being crowned with a golden crown.
At this period the golden crown appears to have brought anything but
good fortune to its wearer, for the Earl of Wiltshire got into serious
trouble, and was beheaded in 1399 A.D. for high treason against Henry
IV. of England, who bestowed the little kingdom on Henry Percy, Earl of
Northumberland; but he in his turn got into disgrace, and was attainted
and banished by King Henry, who made another grant of the Isle of Man,
in 1406 A.D., to Sir John Stanley—’ to him and his heirs for ever; to be
held from the Kings of England, subject to an annual tribute of a cast
of falcons.’ Henry Bolingbroke was a King who did things thoroughly.

Sir John Stanley married the daughter of Sir Thomas Lathom, of Lathom
and Knowsley, in Lancashire, and thus founded the noble family of
Stanley and Derby, who held the sovereignty of Man for very many years.
Its several members made frequent visits to their little kingdom, but
governed chiefly by lieutenants, who either resided at Peel or Rushen
Castles, both of which were garrisoned, and considered amongst the
strongest fortified places in the British Isles.

Henry Byron, one of these Lieutenant-Governors, is spoken of with great
respect by the Manx people of the present day. He remodelled the House
of Keys, and restored that body to its original number of twenty-four.
It will be remembered that Man sent sixteen, and the other isles eight
members, to Tynwald Parliament. Several years previous to Governor
Byron’s time, the Soderen Isles had in reality been separated from Man.
Byron so rearranged the members that every parish sent one, making in
all twenty-four, the original number first instituted by King Orry.

In the reign of Richard II. of England the Earl of Warwick was banished
to Peel Castle, in the Isle of Man, but after a while was recalled, and
his honours all restored.

Another notable English prisoner in Peel Castle was Eleanor Cobham, the
wife of Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, sentenced to perpetual imprisonment
for witchcraft by King Henry VI. of England—vide Shakespeare, ‘Henry
VI.,’ Part II., Act II., Scene 3, Hall of Justice:

‘KING HENRY. Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Glo’ster’s wife
In sight of God and us, your guilt is great:
Receive the sentence of the law for sins
Such as by God’s Book are adjudged to death.
* * * * *
You, madam, for you are more nobly born,
Despoiled of your honour in your life,
Shall, after three days’ open penance done,
Live in your country here in banishment,
With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man.

DUCHESS. Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death,’ etc.

Scene 4, after the Duchess has done penance:

‘DUCHESS. Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence;
I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
Only convey me where thou art commanded.

STANLEY. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; There to be used
according to your state.’

In the reign of Henry VI. the Stanleys were raised to the peerage, and
created barons, Sir Thomas Stanley being the first Lord Stanley. He died
in 1459 A.D., and it was his son, also named Thomas, who played the
all-important part at Bosworth Field, when, after taking part in the
battle against the unpopular Richard III., he crowned the victorious
Earl of Richmond, on the field of battle, Henry VII., King of England,
for which services Henry created him Earl of Derby.

The regal title of King of Man was resigned in 1504 A.D. by Thomas,
second Earl of Derby, who explained his reasons in the following
letter to his son:

‘The Isle was sometime governed by Kings, natives of its own, who were
converted to Christianity by St. Patrick, the Apostle of Ireland; and
Sir John Stanley, the first possessor of it of that family, was by his
Patent styled King of Man, as were his successors after him. For great
and wise reasons I have thought fit to forbear that title. Some might
think it a mark of grandeur that the Lords of this Isle have been called
kings; and I might be of that opinion if I knew how this country could
maintain itself independent of other nations; and that I had no interest
in another place; but herein I agree with your great and wise ancestor,
and with him conceive that to be a great Lord is more honourable than a
petty king. Besides, it is not fit for a king to be subject to any other
king but the King of Kings; nor does it hardly please a king that any of
his subjects should affect that title, were it but to act it in a play;
witness the scruples raised and objections made by my enemies in His
Majesty’s Council, of my being too nearly allied to the Royalty to be
trusted with too great power (as hereinbefore mentioned); whose
jealousies and vile suggestions have proved very ill consequence to his
Majesties interest and my service of him. Take it for granted that it is
your honour to give honour to your sovereign; it is safe and
comfortable; therefore in all your actions let it visibly appear in this
Isle.

Ever since that time the title has been Lord of Man, not King.
The Queen of England at the present day is Lady of Man.>>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Terry Ross wrote:

> In 1610, John Davies of Hereford published a volume
> entitled The Scourge of Folly, consisting mostly of poems
> to famous people and Davies's friends. One of these
> poems was addressed to Shakespeare:

> To our English Terence, Mr. Will. Shake-speare.
>.
> Some say (good Will) which I, in sport, do sing,
> Had'st thou not plaid some Kingly parts in sport,
> Thou hadst bin a companion for a King;.
> And, beene a King among the meaner sort.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
‘DERBY.’

<<Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby, was a great favourite of the Bluff
King Hal, Henry VIII. of England. During his life the revenues of Rushen
Abbey, at Ballasalla, were seized upon and confiscated, and the building
was dismantled as a religious house. Rushen was the last of the abbeys
that fell under the rapacious hand of Henry VIII. In 1610 A.D. a new
charter was obtained from the King of England—James 1.—for insuring and
establishing the Isle of Man in the name and blood of William, Earl of
Derby; and in 1637 A.D. this Earl William, being tired of public life,
resigned all his dignities and titles to his son, James Stanley, so
celebrated in history as the great Earl of Derby.>>
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Art Neuendorffer

David Hugill

unread,
Jan 18, 2001, 10:10:34 AM1/18/01
to
In article <3A662674...@erols.com>, Neuendorffer <ph...@erols.com>
writes
SNIP. Art; Thank you so much for providing information that I was not
asking for, but which is so interesting to be worthy of archiving. I
probably got the King bit at too late a date. However, the argument
remains. The presence of Stanley at LLL is indicated many times in the
text of the play, as is Mr W Hatcliffe and Shakespeare - recognised as
Apollo and Mercury. Since WS wrote it - 1588 - self mockery is evident
in the references to Sonnets as well as other jibes at the well known
people in the audience. The words of Mercury are harsh!

David Hugill
>Art Neuendorffer

--
David Hugill

Robert Stonehouse

unread,
Jan 24, 2001, 5:44:25 AM1/24/01
to

A suggestion that at least is different from the others!

We have just had two solo songs, presumably with lute accompaniment.
Apollo is the lyre-player, but in Elizabethan times the ancient lyre
and the contemporary lute were treated as equivalent. ('Orpheus with
his lute'.) So it's hard to see how 'the songs of Apollo' can fail
to refer to those two songs.

That makes 'the words of Mercury' apply to the closing words of the
play, 'You that way; we this way'. How can that be?

Mercury was the herald of the gods, sent by Jupiter to make
announcements on his behalf. 'In general heralds lacked the
training, the experience, the social position and character to make
successful ambassadors. A dignified appearance at a public ceremony
and firmness in making an unpleasant announcement were the most that
could be expected of them.' (Garrett Mattingly, 'Renaissance
Diplomacy', near the end of chapter 2.)

So here is Armado, or rather perhaps the actor who has been playing
Armado, coming forward to tell us (firmly) that it is all over and
we are to go home.
ew...@bcs.org.uk

David Hugill

unread,
Jan 24, 2001, 5:02:29 PM1/24/01
to
In article <3a6e7a45...@news.cityscape.co.uk>, Robert Stonehouse
<ew...@bcs.org.uk> writes
Robert; Thanks. Interesting. The problem I have with the suggestion
is that the original quarto of 1598 does not have the extras of later
versions eg; the folio. There is no person identified as speaker - no
Armado - and no instructions about this way and that way, only Finis.
More importantly Mercury took many roles, not only a herald or
messenger.

Shakespeare was seen by his contemporaries as 'the nimble Mercury, sweet
tongued Mercury, witty Mercury'. He was seen to have a quicksilver
witty mind.

The role of Armado the braggart is interesting. It is a very suitable
name for 1588 leap year, for the Armada 'bragged' and was shown to be an
empty threat. I can imagine Armado coming into the play dressed in a
suitably Spanish naval attire.

In that year quick-witted Shakespeare wrote LLL for the Prince of
Purpoole at Grays inn. The Prince was in the role of Apollo. In the
style of the age each 'God' persona had some relation to colour, a
planet, etc. For Apollo the season of the year is Spring-time. Ver, the
first song, and for Mercury Winter, Hiems, the second. Shakespeare
finished the play giving precedence to the royal god Apollo with a
flourish. The words of Mercury...

Apollo, Purpoole, was William Hatcliffe, Mr W.H. the 'fair, kind and
true' youth of the sonnets, '..only herauld to the gaudy spring.

This still seems the best interpretation to me.

--
David Hugill

Neuendorffer

unread,
Jan 24, 2001, 6:33:14 PM1/24/01
to
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wordes of Mercurie, are harsh after the songes of Apollo.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
<<June is under the guardianship of Mercury and is sacred to Hercules.>>

<<May is under the protection of Apollo; its name is most likely from
Maia, a Roman fertility Goddess(; a Greek Maia was Apollo's mother).>>

http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Labyrinth/2398/bginfo/social/dates.html
---------------------------------------------------------------
Hermes went down to the underworld to beckon Hades to release the fair
Persephone. His most solemn duty was to guide the dead on their
journey to their final destination in the underworld.

Apollo, the Sun God. (Helios), is the god of music and song, and the god
of light from the sun which rises and sets in its diurnal cycle.
He has the power to bring secrets to light, and was the god of prophesy.

http://www.louisville.edu/~aoclar01/ancient/greece/gr-gods.htm
-----------------------------------------------------------------
> David Hugill <da...@smole.demon.co.uk> wrote:

> > In the first quarto of LLL, 1598, and in the later folio of the plays,
> > the last sentence is;

> > The words of Mercurie, are harsh after the songes of Apollo.

> > Has anyone an explanation of this?

Robert Stonehouse wrote:

> A suggestion that at least is different from the others!
>
> We have just had two solo songs, presumably with lute accompaniment.
> Apollo is the lyre-player, but in Elizabethan times the ancient lyre
> and the contemporary lute were treated as equivalent. ('Orpheus with
> his lute'.) So it's hard to see how 'the songs of Apollo' can fail
> to refer to those two songs.
>
> That makes 'the words of Mercury' apply to the closing words of the
> play, 'You that way; we this way'. How can that be?
>
> Mercury was the herald of the gods, sent by Jupiter to make
> announcements on his behalf. 'In general heralds lacked the
> training, the experience, the social position and character to make
> successful ambassadors. A dignified appearance at a public ceremony
> and firmness in making an unpleasant announcement were the most that
> could be expected of them.' (Garrett Mattingly, 'Renaissance
> Diplomacy', near the end of chapter 2.)
>
> So here is Armado, or rather perhaps the actor who has been playing
> Armado, coming forward to tell us (firmly) that it is all over and
> we are to go home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
<<"The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo" - can be
interpreted in two ways. "The words of Mercury" can be taken to mean the
"harsh" news of the French King's death as delivered by the messenger
Marcade, while "The songs of Apollo" refer to the courtiers' sonnets of
Act IV. The simpler and more convincing explanation is based on the
association of Mercury, messenger of the gods, with sophistry, and of
the Greek god Apollo with song. What Don Armado seems to be saying is,
"No more clever talk! After the sweet song of Spring and Winter, speech
would be discordant." The invocation of Mercury and Apollo is
Shakespeare's way of saying that there is no need of further wordplay
after song; in other words, the play is ended. The play's final line -
"You that way. We this way." - also has more than one possible meaning.
Don Armado could be addressing the members of the audience, indicating
that they exit in one direction, the actors in another. He might also be
addressing the Princess and her ladies, who are about to leave for
France "that way" while he and the King's entourage go off "this way".
Armado could even mean both at once, but here there is no problem with
ambiguity; all possibilities are equally valid.>>

Symphonic Shakespeare By Paul Schuyler Phillips
http://buweb.univ-angers.fr/EXTRANET/AnthonyBURGESS/NL2Symphonic.html

<<On a Wednesday evening twenty-five years ago in Iowa City, one of the
most exciting events in Anthony Burgess's life took place: the premiere
of his Third Symphony. "Some things went wrong, of course... But it
worked. The work worked. I was, and remain, overwhelmed. I had written
those noises. That was me, that great web of sonorities being discoursed
by those hundred handsome kids under that big man on the rostrum."
Burgess had composed a musical, Blooms of Dublin, based on Joyce's
Ulysses, and made Shakespeare's life the subject of his ballet Mr W. S.
He wrote the script and music for a never-made film called Will!
(originally The Bawdy Bard) about the amorous adventures of the great
playwright, a project that was abandoned by Hollywood once the studio
concluded that a film about Shakespeare in love could never be
successful.

"What distinguishes Love's Labour's Lost from Shakespeare's other,
generally more highly regarded plays is that it contains a tune, one
written and perhaps even sung on stage by the bard himself, for which
reason Burgess based the symphony on this particular work. The last of
Holofernes' six set lines is the essential one: "Ut, re, sol, la, mi,
fa", which presents a tune in solmization (solfeggio syllables that
stand for specific musical pitches) and which Burgess believed was the
only melody by Shakespeare in any of the plays. [Iowa program note. "Ut
re sol la mi fa" corresponds to the musical pitches C D G A E F. The
terms "do" and "ut" are equivalent. Originally the syllable for C was
"ut", which the French still retain.]. Curiously, no musician has ever
taken that theme up and developed it."

The six-note phrase is used very effectively by Burgess as a musical
theme. He is mistaken, however, in accounting it the only example of
Shakespearean solmization. In King Lear, Edmund utters a four-note
phrase following his brother Edgar's entrance in Act I, scene ii:

My cue is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o'Bedlam.
- O, these eclipses do portend these divisions.
Fa, sol, la, mi. (I, ii, lines 131-133)

Burgess's method of composition was to proceed directly to full score,
in ink, without benefit of sketches, rough drafts, or testing out the
music at the piano! Burgess recalls that the page with Arabic
obscenities [on it] "was evidently composed drunk, probably on Christmas
Day," and since they appear on page 30 at bar 215, approximately halfway
through the 412-bar, 53-page first movement, this indicates how far he
had progressed by that date. But according to a passage in You've Had
Your Time, Burgess had almost completed the first movement by Christmas
- the day on which he ate rotten Brussels sprouts that gave him a near
fatal case of food poisoning. His response to not dying was to write a
processional for the dead. "Recovered, I composed the slow movement,
which was a funeral march...The scherzo was merely fast and noisy." In
late February, Burgess embarked on a lecture tour of the US, continuing
to work on the symphony in hotel rooms and airport waiting areas while
working on a draft script for the Bond film The Spy Who Loved Me. He
completed the symphony in early April 1975 "in a Holiday Inn bedroom in
a small town in Georgia" and sent [off] the finished score "without
having checked a note of it aurally (Holiday Inns have muzak but no
pianos)."

Love's Labours Lost probably dates from late 1593. Shakespeare had been
taking note of John Lyly's plays, written for the Children of the Chapel
Royal and St Paul's - highly refined and rather charming comedies, full
of euphuistic word-play. These little dramas were performed before the
Queen and in private houses. In the 'nineties some of them were
published - Galatea, Midas, Campaspe, Endymion: all good classical
themes - and the honeyed language and ingenious conceits could be
examined at leisure. Shakespeare examined them, and then proceeded to a
refined and courtly comedy of his own, full of witty quibbles, big
words, and allusions to foreign travel. Love's Labour's Lost is almost
painfully aristocratic."

"In Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost, the pedant Holofernes has a very
interesting speech, in which he praises the old poet Mantuan, quotes a
line from him, sings a snatch of Italian song - "Venezia, Venezia, chi
non ti vede non ti prezia" - and also warbles the notes do re sol la mi
fa. This snatch is, I believe, the only tune that Shakespeare wrote, and
it has been unaccountably neglected by Shakespeare scholars. My finale
pays homage to Love's Labour's Lost by basing itself on that brief
Shakespeare motif - forward, backward, and upside down - and setting the
Venezia words to an appropriate Adriatic- or Neapolitan-type melody,
corny, full of schmalz, and with a mandoline tinkling away in the
background." Holofernes' brief speech is a rumination that occurs while
the parson Sir Nathaniel peruses a letter just handed to him by the
illiterate dairymaid Jaquenetta. As Nathaniel silently studies the
missive, which turns out to be a love letter from Berowne to Rosaline,
Holofernes pretentiously prates on before asking the curate to inform
him of the contents of the letter. Holofernes, a self-important bore
based on the commedia dell-arte figure of the Pedant (and possibly named
for Gangantua's tutor in Rabelais), incessantly fills his longwinded
utterances with strings of redundant synonyms and snatches of Latin and
Italian, impressing only the curate Nathaniel, whose pretensions to
erudition are even more ludicrous than the schoolmaster's.

In these lines, Holofernes quotes in three Italianate languages - Latin,
Italian, and musical solfeggio. He begins with the opening line of the
first eclogue by Mantuan: "Fauste, precor, gelida quando pecus omne sub
umbra ruminat," which George Turbervile's 1567 translation rendered as,
"Friend Faustus, pray thee, since our flock in shade and pleasaunt vale
doth chewe the cudde." Variously known as Baptista Spagnolo, Battista
Spagnoli, Battista Spagnuoli, Baptista Mantuanus, and Mantuanus, Mantuan
was a poet and Carmelite monk who lived from 1448-1516. [Like Vergil,
Baptista Spagnolo was a native of Mantua. Because Vergil was known in
medieval times as The Mantuan, confusion between these two Latin poets
has sometimes arisen, compounded by the fact that Vergil and Mantuan
each wrote ten eclogues that are in both cases among their best known
writings. During his lifetime, Mantuan was indeed hailed as a "Second
Vergil".] He was a respected philosopher and orator, a noted theologian
learned in Latin, Greek and Hebrew, and an extraordinarily prolific poet
said to have published more than 55,000 verses! His eclogues (pastoral
poems often in dialogue form), modeled on those of Vergil and Petrarch,
were first published in 1498 and used as a Latin textbook in Italy,
France, Germany and England for nearly two hundred years thereafter.

Holofernes then addresses an apostrophe to the poet he has just quoted:
"Ah! good old Mantuan. I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of
Venice: "Venetia, Venetia, chi non ti vede non ti pretia." The Italian
quotation is the first part of a familiar adage "Venetia, chi non ti
vede non ti pretia, ma chi ti vede ben gli costa." This proverb
appeared in Firste Fruites (1578) and Second Frutes (1591), books by
John Florio which were popular bilingual texts for teaching Italian to
Englishmen and English to Italians. Florio's books included popular
phrases contained within dialogues about everyday activities, similar to
many language textbooks today, and were regarded as combined manuals of
polite conversation, handbooks for self-improvement, and digests of
popular journalism. Florio, the son of an Italian emigrant to London was
secretary to the Earl of Southampton, and tutor to Prince Henry, the son
of James I. William Warburton proposed in 1747 that Florio may have been
the prototype for the character of Holofernes. After quoting the
beginning of the epigram, Holofernes goes on to complete his thought:
"Old Mantuan! Old Mantuan! Who understandeth thee not, loves thee not."

With his next utterance, "Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa" (which, according to
a stage direction, he sings), Holofernes displays his learning once
more, this time with solfeggio. In Shakespeare's day, the instruction of
children in singing was of prime importance, and a schoolmaster like
Holofernes would likely have been a singing master as well. Initially
the line seems not to refer to Mantuan, but it does, obliquely. The use
of solfeggio syllables originated early in the eleventh century, when
Guido d'Arezzo noted that each phrase of the hymn Ut queant laxis began
on a successively higher tone of the scale, beginning with Ut on C:

UT queant laxis
REsonare fibris,
MIra gestorum
FAmuli tuorum:
SOLve polluti,
LAbii reatum,
Sancte Johannes.

The hymn, attributed to Paul the Deacon (774), celebrates the Nativity
of St. John the Baptist (June 24), wherein lies the connection with
Mantuan. The poet's full name was Johannes Baptista Spagnolo; the
solfeggio syllables, even out of order, refer back to this important
hymn for the saint whose name Mantuan bore. That Shakespeare intended
this pun there can be little doubt, but whether Burgess was aware of it
is unknown. What is certain is that such a pun, however subtle, is
entirely fitting in Love's Labour's Lost. Linguistic complexity abounds
in this comedy to a greater degree than in virtually any other play by
Shakespeare, with nearly every character continually engaging in his or
her own particular kind of wordplay.

The sunny atmosphere of Love's Labour's Lost changes abruptly in Act V
when the messenger Marcade arrives with the grim news that the King of
France has died. Marcade's entrance interrupts the pageant of the Nine
Worthies, a theatrical entertainment presented by Don Armado for King
Ferdinand and his court. Costard, Sir Nathaniel, Holofernes, Moth, and
Don Armado portray Pompey the Great, Alexander, Judas Maccabeus,
Hercules, and Hector of Troy, respectively, before the festivity is
halted by Marcade's appearance. The Princess, now Queen, announces that
she will return to France immediately with her entourage, causing the
separation of the ladies from their suitors. In conventional Elizabethan
comedies, lovers marry at the end of the play, but not in Love's
Labour's Lost, leading Berowne to grumble, "Our wooing doth not end like
an old play: Jack hath not Jill." For breaking their oaths, the suitors
are assigned year-long acts of penance by their ladies, who agree to
return in "a twelvemonth and a day,"to which Berowne retorts, "That's
too long for a play."

At this point, Don Armado proposes to King Ferdinand a resumption of
their previous entertainment with two songs that "should have followed
in the end of our show." He asks the King to "hear the dialogue that the
two learned men have compiled in praise of the owl and the cuckoo." The
masque replaces the wedding ceremony as a way of bringing merriment and
closure to the play's conclusion. The songs, deceptively simple on the
surface, contain witty contradictions and multiple levels of meaning,
like so much of what has come before. Spring is a time of warmth, color,
and rejuvenation, as reflected in the list of brightly hued flowers that
"paint the meadows with delight": "daisies pied," "violets blue,"
"lady-smocks all silver-white", and "cuckoo buds of yellow hue." It is a
season of shepherds and farmers: the former "pipe on oaten straws", the
latter rise at dawn each day with the larks, who "are ploughmen's
clocks". To ready their warm weather clothing, "maidens bleach their
summer smocks."

But spring has its negative side. A season of life, it is also a time of
sexual activity that "mocks married men." It is the season "when turtles
tread", i.e. when turtledoves (read "lovers") mate, and the cuckoo "on
every tree" sings his "word of fear": "cuckoo, cuckoo". Married men are
reminded of that fear not just by the sound of the cuckoo, but by the
flowers in the field: "cuckoo buds", "lady-smocks" (synonym for
cuckoo-flower), and "violets", since "blue had come in the Middle Ages
to symbolize infidelity, cuckoldry and folly."

Winter is the season of cold, discomfort, and illness, but also a time
of merriment and wisdom. The song contains images of cold throughout the
first stanza: "icicles hang by the wall," "Dick the shepherd blows his
nail," (i.e., blows on his finger nails to warm his hands), "milk comes
frozen home in pail." The cold causes discomfort: "blood is nipp'd, and
ways be foul," while "Marian's nose looks red and raw." It also causes
illness which brings "coughing [that] drowns the parson's saw" (sermon).
In winter's fierce weather, "all aloud (i.e. extremely loudly) the wind
doth blow" and "birds sit brooding in the snow."

Yet winter has a positive side which inversely mirrors the negative
aspect of spring. Fire brings warmth and the pleasure of hot food. To
deliver fuel for the fire, "Tom bears logs into the hall." Mouths water
"when roasted crabs (crab-apples) hiss in the bowl" and hot liquids cook
properly "while greasy Joan doth keel the pot"(i.e. cool by stirring or
some other method to keep from boiling over). Winter nights are
serenaded by "the staring owl", a symbol of wisdom who sounds "a merry
note," with sexual punning on "Tu-who" ("To who?") and "Tu-whit" ("To
it!").

In Burgess's setting, the tenor begins, singing the first verse of
Spring, followed by the baritone singing the first verse of Winter to a
different melody in a new key and slower tempo. The second verse of
Winter is given over to the tenor, who sings it as a variant of the tune
used in the first verse of Spring. Before the tenor finishes his last
two lines, the baritone enters with the second verse of Spring, singing
it to the melody of the first verse of Winter. The last two lines of
both verses are sung in counterpoint by the soloists, with the orchestra
remaining silent until the singers reach their final notes. Burgess
explains it this way: "They deliver the two songs that end Love's
Labour's Lost, using the two main chunks of musical material already
presented, and allow winter and spring, the owl and the cuckoo, to
become mixed together, to appear - to use a Holofernian kind of
pedanticism - synchronically instead of, what nature decrees,
diachronically. Which is absurd. But the singers do not mind."

The line that follows - "The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs
of Apollo" - can be interpreted in two ways. "The words of Mercury" can
be taken to mean the "harsh" news of the French King's death as
delivered by the messenger Marcade, while "The songs of Apollo" refer to
the courtiers' sonnets of Act IV. The simpler and more convincing
explanation is based on the association of Mercury, messenger of the
gods, with sophistry, and of the Greek god Apollo with song. What Don
Armado seems to be saying is, "No more clever talk! After the sweet song
of Spring and Winter, speech would be discordant." The invocation of
Mercury and Apollo is Shakespeare's way of saying that there is no need
of further wordplay after song; in other words, the play is ended.

The play's final line - "You that way. We this way." - also has more
than one possible meaning. Don Armado could be addressing the members of
the audience, indicating that they exit in one direction, the actors in
another. He might also be addressing the Princess and her ladies, who
are about to leave for France "that way" while he and the King's
entourage go off "this way". (Burgess leaves off the final "way".)
Armado could even mean both at once, but here there is no problem with
ambiguity; all possibilities are equally valid. Burgess has the baritone
speak these last two lines during a grand pause for orchestra in the
penultimate bar. Once the baritone finishes his words, the orchestra
blasts a final loud C major chord to end the symphony. One has to smile
at Burgess's description:

"Having sung, they wish to finish the proceedings as quickly as
possible, so the movement ends as Love's Labour's Lost ends - with these
spoken words: "The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of
Apollo." The orchestra plays a single fortissimo chord of C major, and
everybody goes off for a drink."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brag. This side is Hiems, Winter.
This Ver, the Spring: The one maynteined by the Owle,
th'other by the Cuckow.

B. Ver begin.

The Song.

When Dasies pied, and Violets blew, [2860]
And Cuckow-budds of yellow hew:
And Ladi-smockes all silver white,
Do paint the Meadowes with delight:
The Cuckow then on euerie tree,
Mocks married men; for thus singes hee,
Cuckow.
Cuckow, Cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare.

When Shepheards pipe on Oten Strawes,
And merrie Larkes are Ploughmens Clocks: [2870]
When Turtles tread and Rookes and Dawes,
And Maidens bleach their summer smockes:
The Cuckow then on euerie tree,
Mockes married men, for thus singes he,
Cuckow.
Cuckow, cuckow: O word of feare,
Vnpleasing to a married eare.


Winter.

When Isacles hang by the wall,
And Dicke the Sheepheard blowes his naile: [2880]
And Thom beares Logges into the hall,
And Milke coms frozen home in paile:
When Blood is nipt, and wayes be full,

[End signature K2. Catchword: Then]


Then nightly singes the staring Owle
Tu-whit to-who.
A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.

When all aloude the winde doth blow,
And coffing drownes the Parsons saw;
And Birdes sit brooding in the Snow, [2890]
And Marrians nose lookes red and raw:
When roasted Crabbs hisse in the bowle,
Then nightly singes the staring Owle,
Tu-whit to-who
A merrie note,
While greasie Ione doth keele the pot.

The vvordes of Mercurie, are harsh after the songes of Apollo.
---------------------------------------------------------------
The Ancient Greeks characterised:

Spring by Mercury,
Summer by Apollo,
Autumn by Bacchus,
and Winter by Hercules.

E. Cobham Brewer 1810–1897. Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. 1898.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
II. THE LORD OF MISRULE
http://www.columbia.edu/~fs10/spice.htm

<<The lord of misrule is best known as a Christmas figure, but “there is
evidence that the term was freely extended to folk ‘kings’ set up, not
at Christmas only, but at other times in the year” (Chambers Mediaeval
419). Likewise, there is an element of ambiguity between the seasons of
winter and summer in The Winter’s Tale. Given its title, for example,
one might be surprised to find such extended summer activities taking up
so much of the drama. Autolycus ’s appearance in the early spring
coincides with some traditions and foreshadows Perdita’s reemergence,
so that he straddles winter and summer. His statement that he is
“littered under Mercury” implies a winter birth in Shakespeare’s canon
and …may relate very complexly to his confusing mention of a springtime
rising of ‘red blood’ just before the start of a late summer festival…
according to an old ‘rustic or farmer’s calendar’ he [Mercury] was a god
of May or spring, together with Flora … identifying Mercury with winter,
and opposing him to Apollo and spring…[may represent] a deliberate
confusion of two calendars operative at once, a rural and sophisticated
one.

The ambiguity of seasons implied in the allusions to Mercury
simultaneously reflects an analogous ambiguity in the customs
surrounding the lord of misrule (who also traditionally relates to both
seasons in complex ways) as well as the complexity of the regenerative
function of the artist. Similar analogies can be drawn from the name
Autolycus itself.

Recognizing the relationship between the polemical attacks on rural
festivities which were leading to their demise and similar attacks on
the public theater, Shakespeare mobilized the character of Autolycus as
a rhetorical defense first of the virtues of the ancient customs
themselves and then of the London theater companies who were in large
part the heirs of those traditions. James’s Romanist tendencies had
given rise to increasing Puritan dissent which recognized the roots of
the public theater in the mystery plays successfully suppressed during
the previous century.

The pageants which replaced the mystery plays in the rural districts
were tailored to Puritan standards and began to resemble the purely
laudatory rhetoric of the Stuart masques. One given in honor of Henry’s
coronation as Prince of Wales in Chester in 1608, makes extensive
references to Mercury which suggests that Autolycus may have
been littered under Mercury by Shakespeare specifically to offer to
Henry a better and more entertaining alternative to the dry flattery of
the pageants and masques. Autolycus is that other son of Cyllene, the
trickster and soul guide who changes black and white back and forth
opportunistically in accordance with situations in which good and evil
are inextricably mixed (Bieman 84).

Not the least of the surprises that this play springs upon us is the
fact that it leads us into the midst of the summer celebrations of the
shepherds by way of a ‘Winter’s Tale’. Such an eruption into the fluid
time of this summer festival confuses the chronological reference points
that link the sequence of events together. As we pass from the first
part of the play to the second, the scene and the place change (Sicilia
and Bohemia are, so to speak, polar opposites)… (Laroque 218)

In the spring-allegory painting [Botticelli’s Primavera there are]
…seven principal figures: (probably) the three Graces, Flora, Chloris,
Zephyr and Mercury… Mercury is present because according to an old
‘rustic or farmer’s calendar’ he was a god of May or spring, together
with Flora… [this] calendral connection [had been] ‘obscured’ from
scholars by the ‘Julian reform’.

Like Proserpina, to whom she is indeed compared, Perdita emerges into
the light of day in the summer half of the year, leaving the wintry
shadows of the underworld behind her.

Armado. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
(LLL v, ii, 931)

Clown. I cannot do’t without counters. Let me see; what am I to buy
for our sheep-
shearing feast? Three-pound of sugar, five pound of currants, rice
…(IV.iii.35)
Clown. I must have saffron…mace ; dates? …nutmegs …ginger
…prunes…raisins…(IV.iii.43)

Phoebus, and Mercury by chance one day
From Delphi, and Cyllene past this way;
Together they the virgin saw: desire
At once warm'd both their breasts with am'rous fire.
Phoebus resolv'd to wait 'till close of day;
But Mercury's hot love brook'd no delay;
With his entrancing rod the maid he charms,
And unresisted revels in her arms.
'Twas night, and Phoebus in a beldam's dress,
To the late rifled beauty got access.
Her time compleat nine circling moons had run;
To either God she bore a lovely son:
To Mercury Autolycus she brought,
Who turn'd to thefts and tricks his subtle thought;
Possess'd he was of all his father's slight,
At will made white look black, and black look white.
Philammon born to Phoebus, like his sire,
The Muses lov'd, and finely struck the lyre,
And made his voice, and touch in harmony conspire.

This helmet had been stolen by Autolycus out of Eleon when he broke
into the house of Amyntor son of Ormenus… and now it was set upon the
head of Ulysses. Iliad: Book X

Mercury, descending from heaven in a cloud, artificially winged
‘wheele of fire burning very cunningly, with other fireworks,’ mounted
the cross by the assistance of ropes, in the midst of heavenly melody.

Lighten the eyes, thou great Mercurian Prince,
Of all that view thee,
That by the lustre of their optick sense
They may pursue thee:

Mercury replies to this invocation, and then follow a series of most
tedious speeches from each allegorical person, in praise of Britain in
general, and Prince Henry in particular… (Chambers 637)

Autolycus: I understand the business, I hear it: to have an
open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is
necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite
also…

Shakespeare, then, through the agency of the rogue shows how
Providence, working through falsehood and seeming falsehood, elicits
truth and increases the store of good… The Providential agency of
Autolycus contains comment…on the operation and nature of art…Providence
puts falsehood in service to truth……Shakespeare’s insistence on the
false and fanciful nature of his tale suggests an observation on the
possible function of the play and the possible role of the playwright
…as he is an agent for great creative nature, [he] partakes in some
manner of permanence and divinity. …it is peculiarly fitting that the
false man should be a taleteller…where grace…[may] come out of evil, a
false man should be an agent for truth…>>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Art Neuendorffer

Robert Stonehouse

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Jan 25, 2001, 5:36:29 PM1/25/01
to
Yes. They can't both be right - we have to make a choice. The fact
that the Quarto gives us this problem seems to be a point against
its reading.

>More importantly Mercury took many roles, not only a herald or
>messenger.

All the gods had more than one function. If we can find a salient
one that fits, the existence of others is not a problem. Mercury
wears the wide-brimmed traveller's hat and winged sandals and
carrries a herald's staff.


>
>Shakespeare was seen by his contemporaries as 'the nimble Mercury, sweet
>tongued Mercury, witty Mercury'. He was seen to have a quicksilver
>witty mind.

Is there evidence that he played Armado? But I doubt if he would
have used his own reputation this way.


>
>The role of Armado the braggart is interesting. It is a very suitable
>name for 1588 leap year, for the Armada 'bragged' and was shown to be an
>empty threat. I can imagine Armado coming into the play dressed in a
>suitably Spanish naval attire.
>
>In that year quick-witted Shakespeare wrote LLL for the Prince of
>Purpoole at Grays inn. The Prince was in the role of Apollo. In the
>style of the age each 'God' persona had some relation to colour, a
>planet, etc. For Apollo the season of the year is Spring-time. Ver, the
>first song, and for Mercury Winter, Hiems, the second. Shakespeare
>finished the play giving precedence to the royal god Apollo with a
>flourish. The words of Mercury...
>
>Apollo, Purpoole, was William Hatcliffe, Mr W.H. the 'fair, kind and
>true' youth of the sonnets, '..only herauld to the gaudy spring.
>
>This still seems the best interpretation to me.

I am not hung up on my own suggestion - that will have been clear
from the way I made it. But this one does seem fanciful. We need an
alternative!

Art Neuendorffer quotes:


>The simpler and more convincing explanation is based on the
>association of Mercury, messenger of the gods, with sophistry, and of
>the Greek god Apollo with song. What Don Armado seems to be saying is,
>"No more clever talk! After the sweet song of Spring and Winter, speech
>would be discordant." The invocation of Mercury and Apollo is
>Shakespeare's way of saying that there is no need of further wordplay
>after song; in other words, the play is ended. The play's final line -
>"You that way. We this way." - also has more than one possible meaning.
>Don Armado could be addressing the members of the audience, indicating
>that they exit in one direction, the actors in another. He might also be
>addressing the Princess and her ladies, who are about to leave for
>France "that way" while he and the King's entourage go off "this way".
>Armado could even mean both at once, but here there is no problem with
>ambiguity; all possibilities are equally valid.

The last sentence has me reaching for my revolver (metaphorically
speaking) but the interpretation of 'the words of Mercury' seems
possible. I don't find it easy to follow the contrast between
sophistry and song, though; they are not near enough the same kind
of thing for contrasts to be picked up easily. But the end of this
play seems to be deliberately enigmatic.
ew...@bcs.org.uk

David Hugill

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Jan 25, 2001, 2:54:29 PM1/25/01
to
In article <3A6F663A...@erols.com>, Neuendorffer <ph...@erols.com>
writes
Art; While the ancient Greeks may have associated seasons as you
relate, more pertinent information to Shakespeare's time is found in
Ferne's Blazon of Gentrie(1586) - Ver is for Apollo and Hiems for
Mercury. I think Shakespeare played Berowne and himself finished the
play with .. The words of Mercury.. You also seem to have the date
wrong. Try 1588. But I will keep your material, always interesting but
off the side.
--
David Hugill

David Hugill

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Jan 26, 2001, 5:58:10 AM1/26/01
to
In article <3a6fd75d...@news.cityscape.co.uk>, Robert Stonehouse
There I would definitely not agree. The Quarto was the first
publication of LLL and was specifically stated to have been 'Newly
corrected and augmented by W Shakespeare' The Quarto was the 'correct'
version apart from the typo's in the text. The later versions, first
Folio 1623 and second 1632, had plenty of 'adjustments' made by the
publisher/printers. Those are the versions which may give problems. I
have a copy of the Norton Facsimile of the First Folio which was based
on the folios in the Folger Shakespeare collection. As the explanatory
text in Norton explains; "Originally, the First Folio was printed two
pages at a time, on a small hand-operated press over a period of two
years. Late proofs were often read, and late corrections made, as the
printing proceeded. The uncorrected sheets were not thrown out but were
mixed with the corrected ones, with the result that no extant Folio
shows the finally corrected state of every page, and no two Folios are
identical". The Norton text is based on 82 copies of the approximately
240 surviving Folios. I think we should prefer the Quarto in this
matter.

>
>>More importantly Mercury took many roles, not only a herald or
>>messenger.
>All the gods had more than one function. If we can find a salient
>one that fits, the existence of others is not a problem. Mercury
>wears the wide-brimmed traveller's hat and winged sandals and
>carrries a herald's staff.
>>
>>Shakespeare was seen by his contemporaries as 'the nimble Mercury, sweet
>>tongued Mercury, witty Mercury'. He was seen to have a quicksilver
>>witty mind.
>Is there evidence that he played Armado? But I doubt if he would
>have used his own reputation this way.
I think he played Berowne; he wrote it why not take the best part? The
insertion of Armado at the end is one of the Folio changes. No one is
identified in the Quarto; I think it would have been Shakespeare who
completes the play.

>>
>>The role of Armado the braggart is interesting. It is a very suitable
>>name for 1588 leap year, for the Armada 'bragged' and was shown to be an
>>empty threat. I can imagine Armado coming into the play dressed in a
>>suitably Spanish naval attire.
>>
>>In that year quick-witted Shakespeare wrote LLL for the Prince of
>>Purpoole at Grays inn. The Prince was in the role of Apollo. In the
>>style of the age each 'God' persona had some relation to colour, a
>>planet, etc. For Apollo the season of the year is Spring-time. Ver, the
>>first song, and for Mercury Winter, Hiems, the second. Shakespeare
>>finished the play giving precedence to the royal god Apollo with a
>>flourish. The words of Mercury...
>>
>>Apollo, Purpoole, was William Hatcliffe, Mr W.H. the 'fair, kind and
>>true' youth of the sonnets, '..only herauld to the gaudy spring.
>>
>>This still seems the best interpretation to me.
>I am not hung up on my own suggestion - that will have been clear
>from the way I made it. But this one does seem fanciful. We need an
>alternative!
Good grief; why?

>
>Art Neuendorffer quotes:
>>The simpler and more convincing explanation is based on the
>>association of Mercury, messenger of the gods, with sophistry, and of
>>the Greek god Apollo with song. What Don Armado seems to be saying is,
>>"No more clever talk! After the sweet song of Spring and Winter, speech
>>would be discordant." The invocation of Mercury and Apollo is
>>Shakespeare's way of saying that there is no need of further wordplay
>>after song; in other words, the play is ended. The play's final line -
>>"You that way. We this way." - also has more than one possible meaning.
>>Don Armado could be addressing the members of the audience, indicating
>>that they exit in one direction, the actors in another. He might also be
>>addressing the Princess and her ladies, who are about to leave for
>>France "that way" while he and the King's entourage go off "this way".
>>Armado could even mean both at once, but here there is no problem with
>>ambiguity; all possibilities are equally valid.
>The last sentence has me reaching for my revolver (metaphorically
>speaking) but the interpretation of 'the words of Mercury' seems
>possible. I don't find it easy to follow the contrast between
>sophistry and song, though; they are not near enough the same kind
>of thing for contrasts to be picked up easily. But the end of this
>play seems to be deliberately enigmatic.
I don't see Art's explanation is at all simple because it is based on
the Folio text and therefore confuses. The enigma is probably only
because we were not there and we have not absorbed the cultural backdrop
to the play. The words or Mercury are deliberate, but probably
completely understandable for those at that first performance; becoming
more obscure with the passage of time. The Folio, remember, was thirty
five years after the first performance. With a typical life span of 40
at that time is it any wonder that the Folio editors, not being at the
performance, 'tidied' the text and put in their own guesses?
>ew...@bcs.org.uk

--
David Hugill

Robert Stonehouse

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Jan 27, 2001, 3:08:56 AM1/27/01
to
David Hugill <da...@smole.demon.co.uk> wrote:

>In article <3a6fd75d...@news.cityscape.co.uk>, Robert Stonehouse
><ew...@bcs.org.uk> writes

...


>>>Robert; Thanks. Interesting. The problem I have with the suggestion
>>>is that the original quarto of 1598 does not have the extras of later
>>>versions eg; the folio. There is no person identified as speaker - no
>>>Armado - and no instructions about this way and that way, only Finis.
>>Yes. They can't both be right - we have to make a choice. The fact
>>that the Quarto gives us this problem seems to be a point against
>>its reading.
>There I would definitely not agree. The Quarto was the first
>publication of LLL and was specifically stated to have been 'Newly
>corrected and augmented by W Shakespeare' The Quarto was the 'correct'
>version apart from the typo's in the text. The later versions, first
>Folio 1623 and second 1632, had plenty of 'adjustments' made by the
>publisher/printers. Those are the versions which may give problems. I
>have a copy of the Norton Facsimile of the First Folio which was based
>on the folios in the Folger Shakespeare collection. As the explanatory
>text in Norton explains; "Originally, the First Folio was printed two
>pages at a time, on a small hand-operated press over a period of two
>years. Late proofs were often read, and late corrections made, as the
>printing proceeded. The uncorrected sheets were not thrown out but were
>mixed with the corrected ones, with the result that no extant Folio
>shows the finally corrected state of every page, and no two Folios are
>identical". The Norton text is based on 82 copies of the approximately
>240 surviving Folios. I think we should prefer the Quarto in this
>matter.

We need to look at the readings before deciding - this being one of
them.
...


>I think he played Berowne; he wrote it why not take the best part?

He wrote it, but he didn't own it - the company did. Not that this
question is germane to the main argument.


...
>>>Apollo, Purpoole, was William Hatcliffe, Mr W.H. the 'fair, kind and
>>>true' youth of the sonnets, '..only herauld to the gaudy spring.
>>>
>>>This still seems the best interpretation to me.
>>I am not hung up on my own suggestion - that will have been clear
>>from the way I made it. But this one does seem fanciful. We need an
>>alternative!
>Good grief; why?

Because we can't hang our hats on something as far-fetched as this
and claim there is no alternative. It's not reasonable.
...


>I don't see Art's explanation is at all simple because it is based on
>the Folio text and therefore confuses.

Cart before the horse, I think. The weight of the texts depends on
the weight of their readings, not the other way round.


>The enigma is probably only
>because we were not there and we have not absorbed the cultural backdrop
>to the play. The words or Mercury are deliberate, but probably
>completely understandable for those at that first performance; becoming
>more obscure with the passage of time. The Folio, remember, was thirty
>five years after the first performance. With a typical life span of 40
>at that time is it any wonder that the Folio editors, not being at the
>performance, 'tidied' the text and put in their own guesses?

The people associated with the folio were actors and had access to
the company's texts. They would need to know and record who said
what, or they could not perform the play. Now, since these words are
not spoken in character, it very likely did not matter very much who
said them or if different people said them on different occasions.
ew...@bcs.org.uk

jajamesa...@gmail.com

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Mar 8, 2019, 3:21:49 AM3/8/19
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jajamesa...@gmail.com

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Mar 8, 2019, 3:24:34 AM3/8/19
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On Wednesday, January 10, 2001 at 5:15:50 AM UTC-5, David Hugill wrote:
Mercury was a sweet-talker, but even so, such is harsh after music by the maestro.
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