|The Pendant Shakespeare|
|The Sonnets - Part 3|
|The Pendant Shakespeare Logo|
|Air Date||April 20, 2009|
|Directed by||David Alexander McDonald|
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|The Tempest - Act V||The Phoenix and The Turtle|
- Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
- Upon thy self thy beauty's legacy?
- Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
- And being frank she lends to those are free:
- Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
- The bounteous largess given thee to give?
- Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
- So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
- For having traffic with thy self alone,
- Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive:
- Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
- What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
- Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
- Which, used, lives th' executor to be
- Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
- The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
- Will play the tyrants to the very same
- And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
- For never-resting time leads summer on
- To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
- Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
- Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where:
- Then were not summer's distillation left,
- A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
- Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
- Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
- But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
- Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
- Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
- Which I by lacking have supposed dead;
- And there reigns Love, and all Love's loving parts,
- And all those friends which I thought buried.
- How many a holy and obsequious tear
- Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye,
- As interest of the dead, which now appear
- But things remov'd that hidden in thee lie!
- Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
- Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
- Who all their parts of me to thee did give,
- That due of many now is thine alone:
- Their images I lov'd, I view in thee,
- And thou (all they) hast all the all of me.
- Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
- Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
- From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
- Till I return, of posting is no need.
- O! what excuse will my poor beast then find,
- When swift extremity can seem but slow?
- Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
- In wingéd speed no motion shall I know,
- Then can no horse with my desire keep pace.
- Therefore desire, (of perfect'st love being made)
- Shall neigh, no dull flesh, in his fiery race;
- But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade-
- Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow,
- Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
- But be contented when that fell arrest
- Without all bail shall carry me away,
- My life hath in this line some interest,
- Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
- When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
- The very part was consecrate to thee.
- The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
- My spirit is thine, the better part of me.
- So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
- The prey of worms, my body being dead;
- The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
- Too base of thee to be rememberèd.
- The worth of that is that which it contains,
- And that is this, and this with thee remains.
- O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
- Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour;
- Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st
- Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow'st.
- If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
- As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
- She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
- May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
- Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
- She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
- Her audit (though delayed) answered must be,
- And her quietus is to render thee.
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David Ault - Sonnet 4
David Alexander McDonald - Sonnets 5 and 51
Philip Weber - Sonnet 31
R. Francis Smith - Sonnet 74Kristen Bays - Sonnet 126