|The Pendant Shakespeare|
|The Phoenix and The Turtle|
|The Pendant Shakespeare Logo|
|Air Date||April 21, 2008|
|Directed by||David Alexander McDonald|
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|A Midsummer Night's Dream - Act V||The Rape of Lucrece|
- From fairest creatures we desire increase,
- That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
- But as the riper should by time decease,
- His tender heir might bear his memory.
- But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
- Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
- Making a famine where abundance lies,
- Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
- Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
- And only herald to the gaudy spring,
- Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
- And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding.
- Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
- To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
- Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
- When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
- Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits,
- For still temptation follows where thou art.
- Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
- Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assail'd;
- And when a woman woos, what woman's son
- Will sourly leave her till he have prevail'd?
- Ay me! but yet thou might'st my seat forbear,
- And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
- Who lead thee in their riot even there
- Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:--
- Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
- Thine by thy beauty being false to me.
- Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
- But sad mortality o'er-sways their power,
- How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
- Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
- O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
- Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
- When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
- Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
- O fearful meditation! where, alack,
- Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
- Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
- Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
- O, none, unless this miracle have might,
- That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
- Tired with all these , for restful death I cry,
- As, to behold desert a beggar born,
- And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
- And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
- And guilded honour shamefully misplaced,
- And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
- And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
- And strength by limping sway disabled,
- And art made tongue-tied by authority,
- And folly doctor-like controlling skill,
- And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
- And captive good attending captain ill:
- Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
- Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
- So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
- Like a deceived husband; so love's face
- May still seem love to me, though altered new;
- Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
- For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
- Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
- In many's looks, the false heart's history
- Is writ in moods, and frowns, and wrinkles strange.
- But heaven in thy creation did decree
- That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
- Whate'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
- Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
- How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
- If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!
- Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
- And that which governs me to go about
- Doth part his function and is partly blind,
- Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
- For it no form delivers to the heart
- Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch:
- Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
- Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
- For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,
- The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,
- The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
- The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
- Incapable of more, replete with you,
- My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue.
Alicia Laine Matheson - Sonnet 1
Philip Weber - Sonnet 41
Kathryn Pryde - Sonnet 65
David Alexander McDonald - Sonnet 66
David Ault - Sonnet 93
Fiona Thraille - Sonnet 113